Meg's Journal, August 16, 1985

There was a note on my bed when I woke up this morning. Apparently, Alexi is still alive. Still in probable danger, but alive.

I hope Rorschach finds the bastard and kills him. Fast.

"And here's your room," Adrian says. His arm is around her waist as he helps her.

The walk from the car to the elevator had been exhausting; everything after that has been excruciating. With each step, Meg finds herself getting more and more lightheaded. Adrian, though, just takes her weight as she slumps against him, practically carrying her with one arm, making her feel feather light.

"Did you redecorate?" Meg asks. Her vision is hazy from being tired, but she can see the room is different from last time. Gone are the purples and framed pictures of Adrian from his Ozymandias days. Instead, everything is done in heather blues and soft greys. There's a few pictures of oceans views and woodland mountains. The bed is situated across from a huge window, giving her a beautiful view of the city. There's a sitting area with a couch and chairs and a television. A huge bookshelf filled with books. Anything anyone could ask for.

And much larger than her apartment. Old one. Just a little smaller than the new one.

"Yes, I did," Adrian answers. He lifts her into his arms, princess style, and carries her the rest of the way into the room. "I thought… I'd hoped you might have use for it in the future. Not like this, of course." He lays her on the bed, in the middle. Crawls on next to her, head propped on his fist, gazing down at her. "But in some way."

She smiles wearily. "Like, next time you talk me in to planning one of those charity events? Or helping whoever you hire to organize the… what are you calling it? Veidt Scholarship and Children's Fund?"

He shrugs. "For now. Unless marketing can come up with a better name." He brushes hair from her forehead.

"Adrian. What do you want from me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." She yawns. Rubs her eyes. "I mean, why do you pay so much attention to me? Do all this? For me and Billy?"

"I love you."

"Adrian…"

"I love you, Meg. You're a good person. You're strong and honest. You do what you can to make the world a better place."

"Yeah, but you were Ozymandias."

"Anyone can put on a costume and run around, putting themselves in danger. That's big picture stuff. That's what I did, it's what I do now. I look at the big picture and try to figure out what I can do to change it. But you… you're in the trenches. You're fighting the battles for the people who truly can't fight for themselves. And you do it without expecting anything for yourself."

"I expect to get paid."

He smiles. Runs his fingers over her lips. "Well. One does need to live." He leans down and kisses her cheek. "I must admit, I miss my days in the field. Miss fighting battles, small and big alike. As Ozymandias, I was able to help on a more individual level. These days, I must think of the entire world when I act. So, well, I suppose part of it is I feel that by helping you, I'm lending my hands to the trenches." Adrian shrugs again. "Plus, I find you endearing. And Billy…" He breaks off. Closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath and says, "I never thought about having children. My parents… my parents were not good people." He opens his eyes again. "I've spent my life trying to make amends for the evils they did. I thought I wanted the Veidt name to end with me. But Billy…. I find I truly enjoy having him around. I've fallen in love with him more than I thought I could love anyone." He strokes her cheek. "Don't worry. I'm not going to try and adopt him out from under you."

"But you do want to be his daddy." She'd seen the look in his eyes the night before. Even in her drugged state, the longing in his eyes, his face, when Billy had asked Adrian if he was going to be Billy's father, had been obvious.

He doesn't answer at first. Just looks away, feelings written plainly on his face. Even when he says, "Maybe not him. Maybe I just… realize I want a child of my own." There's a hollowness in his voice.

Meg shakes her head. "I'm too tired to have this conversation. I'm sorry, but the drugs are making me woozy."

Adrian smiles in that way he has, as if the world around him is pure amusement to him. But, this time, it looks fake. His eyes are sad. Wistful. "Of course. I'm sorry."

"I started it. But, Adrian, I don't want to… to keep him from you. He loves you, and I know you love him. We'll figure something out. Okay?"

His smile morphs into something real. Much less wistful. "I suppose I haven't wanted to say anything for fear of scaring you. Scaring you away."

She shakes her head. "No. No, I'm not going to get scared off. My best friend wants to help raise the kid I never expected to have? It's a bit… coincidental, but in a good way." Meg yawns again. Tightens her hands in his shirt. "I really can't think anymore. Stay until I'm asleep?"

He shifts around until he's lying next to her, holding her. "Let go," he whispers into her ear. His lips brush the shell, warm breath teasing through her hair. "I've got you."

His arms are comfortable, familiar. She loves him, she enjoys the way he touches her. Freely, with nothing expected in return.

But, in her haze of drugs and pain and sleepiness, she can't help but wish it was someone else next to her. Someone she loved less as a friend and more as… something as indefinable as he was.

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Rorschach's Journal, August 17, 1985

Girl's friend is still alive. Don't like her. Dresses like a high priced whore. Simpers and flirts with men. Gets things doesn't deserve. Coffee free, lunch free. All for a smile and a kiss that smears her make-up across strangers' skin like blood stains wall after jugular is sliced.

Will keep eye on her, though. Best lead I have on killer. If not next in line, somewhere. Will try to catch him before hurts anyone else. Even self-indulgent whore like her.

"Oh my God, Meg, I am so scared," Alexi says, pacing the room. She's tugging on her fingers, twisting them as she strides from one side of the room to the other.

"What did the police say?" Meg asks. She picks up a pillow. Hugs it tightly to her chest as she tries to get comfortable on the couch. Not that the couch isn't comfortable; it's her body that's all out of whack.

"They said there's nothing they can do. No threats been made against me, no one's tried to hurt me, all there is, is an incredible coincidence." She comes over to the seating area. Sits on a chair. There a kind of hopeless desperation in her eyes. "The detective said that if I notice anyone following me or anything like that, to call them. Until then, there's nothing they can do."

"Not even have a squad car swing by your apartment every once in awhile?"

Alexi shakes her head. "Nothing." She sits back. Rests her head on her hand and rubs her forehead with the tips of her fingers. "I know I'm probably panicking over nothing. There are thousands of women New York whose names are some form of Alexandra. But, God. They looked like me. They drove the same care. And I just know that I'm going to end up just like them."

"You're not going to."

"Meg…"

Meg reaches out her hand and manages to grab part of Alexi's skirt. She shakes it. "You are not going to be killed. I promise."

She smiles wearily at Meg. Takes her hand. "Are you going to be my bodyguard? I wouldn't put it past you. You're like superwoman these days. If a little battered."

"Funny." Meg rolls her eyes, which only brings a twinge of pain. The bruises are beginning to yellow around the edges, and the dark purple has faded into a kind of sickly brown. Her nose is still swollen, and any movement makes it complain, but she's dealing. "I don't think I'm going to be anyone's superwoman anytime soon."

"No. But that's okay." Alexi sighs. Lets go of Meg's hand and leans back in the chair. "I don't suppose Adrian would mind lending me a bodyguard or anything."

"He doesn't have bodyguards. He's Ozymandias."

"Not even for you or Billy?"

She tries to raise her eyebrow, but stops immediately. "I wouldn't want one if he tried. I don't like the idea of someone following me around. And Billy… well, he has the nanny if I'm not around. And, right now, I'm not as much as I want to be." She licks her lips. Chews on her bottom one, then says, "I could ask. For you, I mean. He might… you know. Be willing to have someone to help you."

Alexi shakes her head. "No. It's okay. I'd feel like an idiot."

"Alexi. If you do notice anything, or you start feeling to scared, please let me know. I'm sure Adrian will help."

"Thanks," she says with a weary smile. "I will. I promise. Right now, though, I just need to figure out what to do with my car."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. The other two girls had the same car as me, right? Right down to the year. I figure, why not make myself less of a target and get rid of it. So. I need to sell my car and get a new one."

"I can help you with that," Meg says. "I'm going to need a car. The new apartment if further from work. And the doctor says that my ribs might take a few months to heal all the way. I'll tire easily. Plus, with Billy, well. I just need to be more mobile. Have more than my feet and the subway and everything. A car would make things easier on me. So. Why don't I buy yours?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Alexi says. "I mean, you know. Friends doing business."

"What, are you going to swindle me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course not. I just, you know. I don't know anything about cars really. It runs fine right now, but you know life. I mean, the minute I sell it to you, it's probably gonna start drinking oil constantly and breaking down all the time. And you'll have to shell out tons of money, and I'll feel terrible. I don't want to do that to either of us."

Meg nods, seeing her point. "I guess. Ah, well. It woulda been so much easier. Now I'm going to have to find a car on my own."

"You know, Adrian…"

"Oh my God! Stop it. Seriously."

Alexi gave her a sly smile, eyelids half-mast. "Oh, fine. Although, really, he'd at least help you. I'm sure he knows something about cars."

"I'm sure he does. But I'm also sure that he's got more to do than help me with that. The apartment was one thing. I get that it was something he wanted to do for Billy's sake as well as mine. We needed it fast and we needed a safe place. And he had the time to help us out. But his work with Dr. Manhattan…"

"Have you gotten to meet him?" Alexi interrupts.

Meg blinks. It's really hard for her to keep up with abrupt conversation changes because of the drugs. She feels stupid as her mind works to figure out what had happened to talking about Adrian and apartments.

"Who?" she finally says. "Dr. Manhattan?"

"Yeah. Have you met him?"

"No. He's not exactly the kind of guy you invite over for dinner or something. I don't even know if he eats." Meg combs her fingers through her hair. "Um, one time, I walked into Adrian's office when he was on the… video phone or whatever with him. I think Dr. Manhattan mostly works from Rockefeller and he and Adrian communicate through the phone."

Alexi sits back. Sighs. "Too bad. I wonder what he's like, you know? In person."

"Naked. Blue."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, besides that. He's just so mysterious and everything. Fascinating." She shakes her head. "God, Meg. Who knew your life was going to be this exciting, you know? Rubbing elbows with the New York elite. Living with a man who works with America's superman. I'm jealous."

Meg smiles wryly. "Well. It's not all it's cracked up to be." She slumps back on the couch, resting her head against the back. She's tired now. Cold. A little shaky, the way she gets now when she gets hungry and her pain medication starts running out. Or maybe it's the antibiotics. Or when she forgot to take deep enough breaths because of her ribs. Or it was a day that ended in 'y'.

"Well. I should probably get going. I still have work."

"Thanks for coming," Meg says. "I miss everyone. Miss work."

"I'll be back tomorrow. And you'll be back soon." Alexi rises. Comes over and pulls the blankets higher over Meg. "How about you lie down?"

"Okay." She lets Alexi help her shift down on the couch, on her side.

Alexi slides a pillow under her head. Strokes her hair out of her face. "Sleep. Eat. Rest."

She smiles. "Yeah, okay." Meg licks her lips. "Um. Oh. If you get rid of your car, take it to a dealer, okay? Don't just sell it to someone through, like, the paper or anything."

"Why?"

"Because I can just see you selling it to whoever is killing people. And then you dying in it anyway."

Alexi shudders. Nods. "Good idea." She leans down and kisses Meg on the forehead. "Thanks for looking out for me."

"That's what I'm here for."

Meg's Journal, August 17, 1985

Adrian had to go to Antarctica unexpectedly. He said he'll be gone for a few days. He's left staff. A cook and a housekeeper. And Stacy, Billy's nanny. His assistant is supposed to be at my disposal, and the staff has orders to take care of me.

God, I wish he hadn't done that. I can take care of Billy and me well enough. At least well enough to feed and clean. I am grateful to Stacy since I can't exactly play with Billy right now. And I'm grateful to the others, I'm just, you know. Not used to any of this.

I hope I can get back to work next week. I'm going out of my mind with boredom

Rorschach stands over Girl's bed, watching her sleep. She didn't wake up this time when he came in. Probably drugs.

She sleeps deeply. Face swollen, puffy, bruised, but peaceful. Hair's longer than when first met. Part of it pulled off face, some coming out and falling over her face. Wouldn't mistake for boy now. Not unless cuts hair again. Or wears hat.

Girl makes noise in throat. Stirs, face scrunching. Pain. She opens her eyes.

"Rorschach?" she mumbles. Reaches up to rub eyes. Gasps when hand presses into bruised face.

He nods.

Girl pushes herself up. Scoots away from the edge where she was. Leaves room as she grabs a pillow and fluffs it under her head.

"Friend is okay. Safe. No one watching."

"She came by earlier," Meg says, yawning. "She says she's going to try and sell her car."

Rorschach shakes his head. "Second victim did. Two weeks ago. Still died in it."

"Who did she sell it to?"

"Still investigating." He sits on the edge of the bed. "Will find out."

"Thanks."

"They must be brought to justice. Not doing it for her. Not for you." His voice breaks on the last. He clenches his fist in the sheets on her bed.

The corner of Girl's mouth quirks. "Out of all the murders and rapists out there, you chose to work on this one."

"Two women dead."

"Yeah. Those poor women." She reaches out. Takes his hand, curling her fingers over his.

"Should have been more careful. Their indecent lifestyles led to their demise. If people cared for more than fornication and superficial pleasures, maybe they'd stop from killing and be killed."

"You know nothing about those women."

"Know enough. Make-up and tight clothing. Advertise their bodies to anyone interested. Even if they're not."

"So, you're saying they deserved to get murdered? Because they wore pretty clothes and flirted with guys?"

Rorschach doesn't answer. He lets his silence speak.

She sighs. Rubs her thumb over his knuckles. "Did I deserve being dragged down that alley the first night we met?"

He tightens his hand in hers. "No." He looks at her. "You don't… flaunt self. Put yourself on exhibition to highest bidder. They do."

"Neither does Alexi."

He looks at her.

"Some people, well. They want companionship. Want to be loved, both emotionally and physically. Alexi wants to fall in love. Wants to get married and have children. So. She dresses nicely and flirts with men, hoping that she meets the right one."

"Right one shouldn't care what she looks like or how she dresses." He turns her hand over. Traces the lines on her hand with his finger. "Some women have a line of men outside their doorway. Bring one in after another. Use body to imitate love. Give it out for pay. Others have line, but instead of outside door, just one after another. One man tried on for size. Discarded. Another picked up. Like clothing. Only pretend they're searching for love. Just after pleasure."

"And men are any different?"

He grunts. "Men don't even pretend."

"Human nature is to want companionship. And most people… they're sexual. They want to sleep with people because it feels good. Because their bodies crave it." She licks her lips. "Adrian says that I'm asexual. That I'm not interested in other people sexually. Stupid that it took someone else to point it out to me. I always thought… just kind of thought that maybe I hadn't met the right person yet. But, you know, I've been in love. When I was younger, I thought I was in love. But I've never wanted… sex."

"Sex is depraved."

"That's not fair. If two people love each other, they want to express it. With their bodies."

He grunts. Doesn't answer. Doesn't know what to say.

Girl sighs and chews on her lower lip. "I don't know. Humans do a lot of things that are depraved. We seem to be able to take anything and twist it around to hurt others. Hurt ourselves. And, yeah, sex is kind of out of control. Always has been. Same with violence. But." She stops. Bites her lip again. Worries it, tearing dry skin off. "There are people who get it right. People who love each other. People who want each other, forever and always. Who make it poetry or whatever. And, you know. People do need to procreate."

"Do they?"

She grins. "Like I've said, I'm not ready to give up on the human race yet."

He says nothing. Runs his finger down the long line in the center of her palm. Presses the leather seam at the tip of his finger to it, feeling. Finally says, "Love exists without joining bodies in depraved acts."

"It does," she agrees. "No less strong. No less true."

"Truer. Stronger."

"Maybe." She stops his tracing fingers with hers. Laces fingers through his. Squeezes. "Rorschach. I want you to know h-how much. I mean, I care for you. A lot." She pushes herself up, wincing as she does. Her hair is a ratted halo around her head. "I'm glad you were there that night. And that you're still here."

He doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Doesn't like talking about feelings. Doesn't like feeling anything for a woman.

Except she's not. She's different. Small and strange and put together different. Acts differently. In a way he can understand.

He can't bring himself to be humiliated again like he was in the hospital. With Veidt not here, there's no reason. Nothing to prove.

But he has to do something. She's sitting up, pain on her face, eye unerringly staring into his, even hidden by his face. Waiting, mouth open, lips chapped and chewed.

So, he takes his free hand. Lifts it to her face. Delicately runs his thumb over her too-big mouth. Watches as a red flush causes her skin to blotch.

"Sleep," he finally says gruffly.

She nods. Lays back down, still blushing. "Stay?"

He takes her hand more firmly in his. Leans back against the headboard. Closes his eyes. "I'll stay."