No. 10
In 1975, Adrian makes the decision to go public. He tells me that he thinks it's a lost cause to try to fight each night – that such rampant crime was only a symptom of larger problems that he wants to fix not as Ozymandias but as Adrian Veidt. He comes to me before anyone else, asking if it's the right choice.
He is right, in the end. There isn't much any of us can do anymore. Sure, there's still gang violence and a few small time drug lords; people shooting up on heroin and breaking a few hearts and bones. But as much as it pains me to say this, things were getting bigger than that. And, on the other hand, the rest of the Watchmen and I would still be on the streets. I agree with him.
Adrian releases a statement a week later, followed by a short press conference. The media explodes, obviously, astounded at this revelation. Letters and interview requests pour in like a flood, and, soon enough, the attention turns to me. Reporters begin trying to find me at work for questioning, and even on the streets I have to take shortcuts in order to avoid being recognized. Only two weeks in and then they start to ask if I'm Starmaker, Ozymandias's crimefighting partner.
"I mean, I don't get it. It's kinda a given that you're Ozymandias – you're literally only wearing a domino mask. Like four square inches, tops. I'm wearing a mask and an entire helmet. How did they figure out I'm Starmaker?"
Adrian laughs. "Darling, people assume things. They know you're my fiancee and they know that Ozymandias and Starmaker have been a team for several years. It's not hard to put two and two together."
"True." I hum and take a sip of coffee, before raising my finger. "But here's plan B: we change our identities, birth date, hair color, whatever, and move to England."
Adrian huffs and rolls his eyes. "Childish."
"Come on! You gotta give it some thought. Y'know, you'd look really good with dark hair, and a name like-" I spread my arms dramatically. "Matthew!"
He throws a pillow at my head and I duck, giggling.
The wedding a year later is a tremendously small affair. Although we'd wanted this as just a friends-and-family event, for publicity's sake, Adrian finally decides to bring a small group of two reporters and one photographer with us into the woods of Adirondack park. Our final guest list, aside from the obligatory parents and such, is tiny: Dan, Jon, Rorschach and Laurie. Most of them make it, but although I'm able to hunt down his mail drop and send the invitation, Rorschach never replies and doesn't come. It was almost a certainty, really, but it would have been nice.
Adrian takes my hand once I reach the altar. I'm barely listening to the voice of the minister as he reads aloud from his book. We haven't written any lengthy vows - we don't need to. The way he looks at me, the soft smile on his lips, the soothing relief in my heart when he's beside me - it's been enough all this time, and it will continue to be enough.
"Madeline. Do you take Adrian Veidt to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
My heart is pounding. "I, Madeline Grayson, take you, Adrian Veidt, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, until death do us part."
"And Adrian. Do you take Madeline Grayson to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I, Adrian Veidt, take you, Madeline Grayson, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, until death…" A slight pause. He blinks, but when he looks back at me his eyes are filled with such tenderness. "Until death do us part."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
Adrian curls a finger under my chin and I tilt my head up, pressing my lips to his. I pull him closer and for a moment am completely immersed in his warmth - in this all-encompassing feeling of security and stability.
Madeline Grayson-Veidt. Kind of a mouthful, but I like the union of our surnames.
At the party afterwards, Laurie becomes extremely intoxicated and cries onto my shoulder for almost an hour, saying that she'll miss me so much.
"I'm glad the Comedian didn't come, though," she says spitefully. "He's a real asshole. He, you know, he nearly raped my mother!" Laurie's voice is slurred as she drunkenly pats me on the head. "And – and to think he had the nerve to say he only did it once!"
I don't tell her that he left a message a week earlier, saying that he couldn't make it. "Wish I could say that I'm sorry, sweetheart, but...I don't think I should come in the first place." As Laurie kicks her heels off and slumps into a chair, I remember his gravelly voice through the phone, and for a moment I think of the tormented man who, in his anger and hopelessness, set fire to Adrian's plan to save the world.
Jon takes Laurie home when darkness sets in, and after the journalists leave Adrian invites Dan inside to the cabin. I open a window as Adrian pours drinks for the three of us, and Dan joins me, staring at the first quarter moon; the silver-white glow coldly beautiful. The night is quiet and still, and in our words, our memories and the stories we've lived through are brought back to light.
"Y'know, Rorschach was the first to notice it. You two, I mean. He told me afterwards, but...it was pretty astounding. Nice to know at least you guys could find happiness."
I raise an eyebrow. "When'd this happen?"
"That night - do you remember?" Dan adjusts his glasses as he settles down with the two of us on the couch. "With the...the lead you two got towards that child trafficking ring. Well, Rorschach and I were almost halfway across town when we got your distress signal. When we got there it was like a goddamned beacon - the fire was so bright. And I remember seeing you two outside in the lot - and later when you told me you two had jumped out, well…"
"That was...such a bad night," I shake my head, smiling softly before I lean back onto Adrian's shoulder.
"Mmm."
"Yes, well, anyways - There was that policeman - remember how he ran back to his car, like he was completely terrified of us?" Dan chuckles. "I guess that was back in the earlier days, though, when they weren't sure who we were. And with Rorschach, well, he's been more brutal than any of us."
"God, Dan, just get to your point," Adrian snickers. "Lena and I have a long night ahead of us. Ow, stop hitting me!"
"Dan, come on. Keep talking."
Dan flushes. "Y-yeah so, I just wanted...I remember seeing you two out there, waiting for Rorschach and I, and...and Lena, you were by his side the whole time. You must've dragged Adrian all the way outside! You had a fracture in your leg and broken ribs - you were about to pass out yourself, but you wouldn't let go, not even when Rorschach offered to carry Adrian. And Adrian - he'd protected you as well. From what he told me later, he'd basically broke your fall with his own." He looks down at our joined hands, and smiles. "That's when I knew. Well," he raises his eyebrows, "that plus the fact that you two refused to change partners on New Years'."
"Aw, Dan." I yawn a little and he laughs.
"Guess I'm boring you two a little, huh?"
"No, no, no, that was amazing!" I can't help but pull Dan into a tight hug. Adrian smiles warmly at our friend. "That was beautiful, Dan."
Dan laughs. "I do what I can."
With Adrian no longer working with us, I begin to patrol less and less, instead enjoying the feeling of staying at home working with him - sitting on the couch reading through more books and grading thesis papers, and every now and then, quiet shuffles of paper and pen scratching on a notepad letting me know that he is here. Once a week or so I meet up with Laurie or Dan and Rorschach and spend the night protecting the city I care about so much. Back at our penthouse Adrian stays up until I come home, and as much as I tell him not to, it's nice to see him waiting by the time I get back.
For the next two years it's like this, almost a strange routine. We're not getting any younger but none of us even think about stopping - not when we've already done so much, and not when we can still do so much more. But as the weeks go on, amid more and more violent murders committed by Rorschach and the Comedian, the people rightfully turn on us. Adrian is in no danger, but as the only operating Watchmen who is pretty much publicly known, I begin to receive hate mail and threats from civilians. And as much as I wish I could say that I push them away, brush their anger off, I can't.
Then, in 1977, the police go on strike.
The six of us meet on the night of the second riot and pair up, taking different sectors of the city. Jon and Rorschach choose to operate alone while Laurie and I, and Dan and the Comedian pair up. And for the next six hours, we're surrounded on all sides by hoards of violent protesters and rioters. By the time Laurie and I have cleared four square blocks I've already used up most of my supply of stun grenades and, having lost most of my other weapons, the two of us are resorting to hand-to-hand. And It makes me sad that things have come to this. The accusations they shout, that we've ruined their city - ruined everything for the people, they strike a chord in me. All my life I've worked to help people, but it seems like we've been wrong all along, perhaps too harsh, too turbulent and changing of the status quo. Perhaps they didn't see the need for change.
Block, left hook, duck as a man swings towards my head with a metal pipe. Roundhouse kick, punch to the face.
In Congress there's a man proposing his decision on the Watchmen.
Inhale. Exhale.
"Starmaker!"
I turn at Laurie's yell and see a woman rushing at me, crowbar in hand. Crouch and roll as she passes beside me. Swing my leg out - she trips and falls hard onto the pavement. Scraped palms bleeding red. I swear and kick the crowbar out of her reach.
In Congress, the writing's on the wall.
The crowd is beginning to thin towards the early morning hours, though the stragglers left behind are the most hard-hitting and determined of them all. I'm already tired, unused to this fighting with no respite, and I wonder if I'll be able to make it home soon.
Amid fighting off two protesters armed with spiked baseball bats and knives, the comm link on my helmet beeps. I duck and jab at his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of one of the rioters before I grab his bat and swing, hitting the other one's forearm hard enough that her knife falls from her hand. She tries to swing a punch at me with her other arm and I fake to the side before clocking her upside the head, rendering her unconscious. I stand above the two, panting hard. The man recovers, tries to kick upwards and I block it, pinning his leg down. "Come on, dude-"
Another beep. I'd nearly forgotten the message. I press the button on the side of my helmet and Adrian's voice comes on in my ear. I imagine him sitting in his office, low light of his lamp casting shadows over his cheekbones and jawline. The woman snarls, hands forming into fists, and I realize the stark difference between our two situations right now.
"The act passed."
"What?! No, it couldn't have. Congress isn't in session until the day after tomorrow!" I swat away another kick with the bat. On the other end, I hear the sound of shuffling, a slight exhale as he stands.
"Lena, they held an emergency meeting. It's...it's legalized."
"Aw, shit."
"It's time to come home, darling."
The connection drops and I sigh again, turning to look east where the sun is already rising. A new day. Dropping the bat, I reach up and pull my helmet off. The two protesters take the opportunity to run away.
I wipe at the sweat trickling down my temples, rotate my jaw a bit and sniff loudly. Cold morning air in my lungs. I can feel every muscle in my body strain and ache; a bruise swelling in my thigh from when I was hit a few hours ago. The heavyness of my heart.
Another breath; I put a hand on my hip, blinking to try to clear my fatigue. Finally, I wave at my partner from down the street.
"Laurie! They've called it."
Even from the distance, I can hear her voice. "God damn it," she swears as she shoves the hair from her eyes and lets go of a rioter, who limps away, cursing the two of us. "We've won, you bastards!" he yells, turning the corner.
I survey the wreckage around us as we walk towards each other; the shattered wreckages of cars and buildings; glass from storefronts littering the sidewalk. Two burnt mannequins, one crudely painted with yellow and black and the other, a white striped with grey, lay side by side in the middle of the street. These people had gone mad. Or maybe we did. Maybe this world is too violent to be helped.
Laurie approaches me, yawning, and pats my shoulder.
"It's over." A chilling feeling washes over me as I say those words. "We're done."
One day we'll all be ghosts,
Tripping around someone else's home,
One day we'll all be ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.
Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.
/
One day we'll all be found -
No longer lost, we're just hanging around.
One day we'll all be found, found, found,
Found, found, found.
-The Head and the Heart, Ghosts.
Please review or favorite/follow if you enjoyed it.