Chapter 2: Goodbyes
A broken, anguished man reached up and knocked the hat off of the back of his head. He then took the hem of the latex mask that he had come to recognize as his one true visage-- the face of his absolute, uncompromising identity-- and pulled it off as well. He tossed it away, discarding and abandoning it like a filthy rag, a tainted, ruined thing that had no longer had any use to him. He surrendered, finally, the only thing he had left in his life... And there was nothing left for him to hold onto.
Rorschach was finished. Adrian Veidt had committed the world's greatest atrocity. He had murdered millions of innocent people-- but had saved billions more. He had brought about Armageddon, had played it off as the world's greatest practical joke-- but for all this evil, he had created far more good. He had done Rorschach's work for him, on the grandest of scales, had succeeded-- and he had likewise made Rorschach obsolete. Veidt had given the world everything-- and had left behind for Rorschach, nothing.
My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains.
Walter Joseph Kovacs-- a squalid, timorous, slighted little nobody-- stood in the snow, nothing more than a stain in the pure, white wasteland that was Antarctica. He glared, staring down the closest thing he had ever known to God: the Being-- distant and unfeeling, the idealized man, the empyrean entity-- who had not a mortal inkling or coil for the agonizing, broken degenerate that stood before him. The Divine One, whose power and knowledge was limitless, yet who hesitated before absolving and rendering salvation upon this lowly sinner, even withholding revenge as slanderous words were snarled at him.
"If you'd cared from the start, none of this would have happened."
This is your fault, the man wanted to say. You could have changed everything. Could have prevented this from ever happening. Saved all of us from this mindless self-destruction. None of us would be here. Wouldn't need to be. You could have prevented the world from ever needing people like us. Prevented exposure to monsters like Veidt... And me. The man, Walter, wanted to say that. But what use was it? It would change nothing but perhaps bring about his imminent death a fraction of a moment sooner... And as much as he ached for his pain to end, he was frightened of the unknowable phenomenon that was death. Never would have come to this. I never would have had to make this decision.
Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?
His God's expression shifted imperceptibly and Walter took a sharp breath as the Judge, Jury, and Executioner delivered his sentence. "I can change almost anything, but I can't change human nature."
Yes. Human nature... I would have been no less a fiend then I already am. Would still have been Rorschach. Ruthless. Blood thirsty. Savage. A rabid and vicious animal. The Devil's advocate and petty whore. Would still have been Kovacs. Worthless. Despicable. Forsaken. Always have been. Always will be. No matter the circumstances.
Walter felt tears well up, rolling from the corners of his eyes, stinging in the blighted, incised flesh upon his face. His real face. The one of flesh and blood. The one he had neglected and denied succor, the one he abhorred. "Of course, you must protect Veidt's new Utopia," he rasped, swallowing hard as he offered up what was left of his dignity, the whole of his integrity squandered years ago. "What's one more body amongst foundations?" He let the tears fall where they may, let it hurt. Let it make him feel alive. One last time.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil... Now and at the hour of our death...
But Jon faltered. Midnight blue eyelids fluttered for a moment. Luminous eyes flitted with far more uncertainty than should have been present. Don't understand. He must have seen this. Must have known this would happen. What he would do. Why is he stalling? Walter's heart raced wildly, a deep-seated anxiety plunging over the precipice of his tenuous stability. He couldn't take his own indecision, much less Jon's. He simply wanted to end it; was that so much to ask for? "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, inhaling sharply and nearly choking on the cry that threatened to escape, echoing instead in his shuddering exhale, his trembling voice. "Do it."
"No!" The word resounded loudly in his ears, like a distant memory or fantasy brought forth to light, becoming a reality as Jon allowed Walter one last temptation: Daniel. He winced and closed his eyes, propelled forward by the harsh inertia of Daniel colliding with him, but strong, secure arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tightly, holding him upright. His frail frame crumpled, falling back into the firm warmth behind him. Wrapped up in the very physical, very real embrace of his former partner, Walter yet doubted the actuality of Daniel's presence. He wanted to refuse any notion of Daniel's involvement in his present suffering, diminishing him as nothing more than an apparition, conjured from his deranged mind to comfort and terrorize him as he finally died. He didn't restrain the low hiss that shook his body, pain rippling through him, bright and harrowing. The crush of Daniel's arms knocked the air clean out of him and applied a sweetly painful pressure on his broken ribs. As the last hint of air emptied his lungs and the pain became unbearable, he struggled to resurface and take that last breath before sinking into the black waters. He opened his eyes to see Jon standing near, smiling, and he felt Daniel's lips move against his ear. "No." And it centered him in the moment.
No, Walter begged voicelessly, the words mirrored to Daniel's as he struggled to mouth the single syllable. It was too horrific that Daniel would be there as he engineered his own death. Too perfect to have a change of heart. To late to try in earnest to stop him. Too ironic to try to save him, while crushing the life out of him with his own hands. Daniel's arms tightened around Walter again as if reasserting reality and Walter's breath caught, his pain hitching inconceivably higher.
His lips parted to plead for Daniel's release on his body and Jon's release on his torment, but his voice was silenced as the wind hit him hard, painfully freezing his tears to his cheeks. He stifled a cry, sharply drawing the breath to release it, shaking with the force of his misery. He went slack again in Daniel's arms, lolling his head back onto his shoulder and turning his brow to the warmth of Daniel's throat, desperate for any sort of relief as he was denied the comfort of his death. And he despaired at last. "Do it!"
"No, Jon, d--"
Walter staggered forward on unsteady feet as Daniel moved suddenly and loosened his hold on him, turning away. He suddenly felt empty, as if a fragile sense of hope that he hadn't been aware of, somewhere deep inside of him, had finally shattered. What little enlightenment he felt faded so quickly from his memory, it was as if he had never felt it at all. Fleeting, meaningless, superficial-- like life. Never meant for me. There would be no solace until it was over. Until he was finished.
He looked up into the blasting wind, so thick he could hardly see through it. He felt Daniel move against him, attempting to embrace him again, but Walter lashed out. He abruptly threw Daniel away from him with all the strength he could muster and then pushed himself to move forward into the squall as he turned away from his last saving grace. He couldn't take it anymore, this fluctuation between life and death, affliction and relief. There was only one way to put an end to all of it and if it had to be by his own means in the end, then so be it.
Walter shook as he trudged through the icy terrain, Daniel left far behind in his thoughts. He could feel the chill creeping up his spine and wondered how far he could make it before he collapsed, before he couldn't move anymore and dropped to his knees. They say you grow warm before freezing to death. He wished desperately that it was truth as he covered his face with his hands and trudged into oblivion, fighting the frigid wind that already made him ache. He told himself that it would pass soon. One more moment, one more step and he would be that much closer.
He made it several paces but then was falling through the air. Before he could register what was happening, he hit the ground hard and then found himself staring up at the sky, at Daniel who had tackled him and pinned him bodily. A streak of rage rose in him and he snarled up at the man above him. "Let me up, Daniel!"
"No!" Daniel protested, his gray eyes wide and fierce within the mask over his face, his teeth bared as he restrained the fiery redhead. He struggled to hold down Walter's flailing limbs, seeming to feed on the last of his strength as he slowly began to lose the will to fight at all. "Goddamn it, Rorschach, stop this!"
Walter took a blow to the jaw, his head whipping to the side with the force of it and his cheek scraping against the abrasive ice beneath and around him. He blinked as he saw stars for a moment and then his eyes narrowed, as hard and cold as their wintry environment. Yes. That's right. I am Rorschach. Need to get him off of me. Then take care of business. Finish what I started. He took a swing at Daniel as a shock of vivacity animated him but Daniel easily blocked the punch and lifted him by his shoulders and trench collar. Dan shoved him down onto the ground, knocking his head on ice that might as well have been as hard as concrete.
"Stop fighting me!"
"People have to be told!" was Walter's automatic reply. He tried his damnedest to shake off the vertigo plaguing his head so that he could throw another punch at Daniel, but his senses slowed and his vision continued to spin above him.
"Bullshit! Just-- Just stop with the bullshit!" Daniel bellowed above him.
Rorschach's eyes focused finally and his lips formed a question that was never vocalized. He saw Daniel's arm draw back to hit him again and he turned his head, ceasing his efforts to break free and waiting for the blow to fall. All the fight drained his body and he laid motionlessly beneath Daniel, deflated. He glanced back to Daniel when he didn't hit him, his eyes narrowing as he met his gaze. He watched as Daniel glanced over his features and Walter saw Daniel look at him for the first time. Countless times he had seen Daniel on the streets, stood next to him at the newsstand or sat nearby at the diner, had been unmasked in front of him and had held his gaze, stared him down. Countless times and yet Daniel never really looked at him. At least not like he did now. Their eyes met again and his chest tightened.
Again, Daniel's lips formed that word, "Bullshit," and though Walter couldn't hear it over the wailing wind, it made his heart pound with all its implications. It was not possible that Daniel could know what he was truly saying, what it meant to Walter to hear those words uttered from the lips of the only person he, Walter and Rorschach alike, had ever cared about. From the one with whom Walter had built the foundations of his moral convictions and who Rorschach often measured against himself in times of doubt and, sadly, self-assurance. What it meant for someone like Daniel-- someone who's judgment meant far more than he was often willing to admit-- to denounce him in his final moment, to call him a liar and to be right. It cut him to the core.
Walter turned his face away again, closing his eyes tightly as they welled with tears again. No. Cannot admit defeat! Never surrender! the will inside of him raved weakly, scarcely more than a whisper. Rorschach was finished. The ideal had failed him and even Daniel, of all people, knew. Daniel was calling him out, though there was no possibility that he really understood, and it made his guilt painstakingly worse. It heightened the truth of the matter, loath as he was to admit it to himself in its entirety: everything Rorschach stood for was built upon a lie; Walter had nothing else to live for without it; he couldn't cope with the grand burden of all of his sins; and the only thing he could bring himself to wish for now in his life was death.
The rush of adrenaline he had felt surged to accentuate pang of hurt in his body and heart. That shattered hope he had somehow overlooked gave its last flutter, a spent candle just barely staying aflame in the rampant darkness. As all of his reasons, excuses, and purposes fell down around him, everything he knew to be right and just in his world vanished altogether with his honor, dignity, and integrity, and left him a shameful, damaged man, withering in the snow.
-----
A harsh gust blew over them and Dan clenched his eyes shut, turning away from the blast. He groaned and wiped his face, the sharp crystals embedding in his skin like shards of glass, sucking away his warmth as they melted. He opened his eyes and looked down as he felt a slight tremor pass through his arms from the man below him, bringing forth a slight shiver along Dan's spine as well.
Rorschach groaned low in his throat as yet another icy gale swept about them and opened his eyes to find Dan looking down at him, concerned. He felt Dan let up on the vice grip he had on his arms and watched his hand reach towards him. He closed his eyes as the pad of Dan's gloved thumb brushed across his cheek, an attempt to wipe away the tears there. "Don't," he growled and smacked Dan's hand away, opening his eyes to glare up at him.
"They're going to freeze to your face," Dan muttered softly, reaching for him again. Rorschach's face looked blistered, the tip of his nose pink and the bright orange stubble a garish contrast to his pale skin. He seized Rorschach's wrist as he tried to shove him away again, trying with his other hand instead.
"Already have," Rorschach shot back; his voice wavered and he couldn't stop the next line of tears that trickled down, nor the shaking of his hands as he seized Dan's wrist in turn, stopping him from wiping his cheek again. He couldn't handle Dan's overbearing, worry filled affections. Not now. Didn't he understand that he was only prolonging his pain? "Just go, Daniel."
Dan shook his head slowly, feeling tears stir in his own eyes as Rorschach's weak command confirmed everything he had suspected. He had hoped that he was wrong, that this was some fluke, some misunderstanding, and that facing Rorschach down would reveal the truth behind the matter. That was at least correct. He knew the truth, every grief-stricken syllable of it. Dan felt out of his depth, overwhelmed not just with this realization, but with the sheer magnitude of all the happenings, catastrophes, and utter miracles that had come booming into his life within the last couple weeks, the last several days. He had just gotten his life back. He was falling in love. He finally had his best friend and partner at his side once more. His mentor had recently been murdered at his expense. Adrian Veidt had just devastated the world and if Dan had a mind to live past that night, he had better swallow it down and keep his mouth shut. He had become a hero again overnight and he felt more alive within the last few days than he had felt in years. He was finally living again, finally taking control of his life, complete with the enthralling terror of pushing to his full potential and beyond. He didn't want it to end. He couldn't allow it to end and if there was anything he could do to keep everything from falling even further apart, he vowed to do whatever it took. "No," he breathed finally, his voice cracking. "No. I'm no going anywhere. I can't let you do this to yourself."
Rorschach stared up at Dan, trying his hardest to hold his gaze, to remain firm and strong. He needed to save face, was desperate to be the immovable object, the unstoppable force to which Dan would yield. But he could see Dan's eyes filling with tears and could see them fell against his chest. Though he could not feel them, each falling tear was like bullet whose shockwave ricocheted through him, shredding and destroying his insides. More than that, he felt a stronger desperation fill and conquer him. He couldn't look at Dan anymore and he turned his face to the side in self-defiance. "Don't know what you're talking about," he replied dispassionately, betrayed by his own faltering voice.
"I'm not an idiot, Rorschach. I don't know what's going on inside of you but I know you well enough to know what it's not." Dan paused for a moment, wiping at his own face angrily. He wasn't any good at this. He wasn't any good with matters of the heart-- Well, at least not his own heart and, loathe as he was to admit it, it wasn't only Rorschach's ass on the line here. Dan typically appealed to the logical argument before one of emotion and stuck to what he knew, what he could make sense of. Emotions didn't make sense, but at the moment that was all he had. He was scared, goddammit! And, oh, how he hurt! He felt so stupid kneeling there, trying to convince Rorschach that all this depravity wasn't worth losing hope over, especially when Dan could hardly believe his own willingness to let it pass-- And he felt so lost, trying not to acknowledge that sickening need he felt for this broken man, to make him stay caught up on the tangled web of his life-- And unable to admit how much he wanted to just let it all go to waste himself, to lay down beside his resolute redheaded friend and just give up... To hell with logic. Nothing about this was logical. None of it made sense. None of these lies. "This isn't about good and evil, or-- or compromise, or people needing telling. It's not any of those things."
"It's all of those things," Rorschach argued mechanically, no feeling or inflection behind his words. He didn't believe it himself. He simply had nothing else to say as he stared off into oblivion, shivering lightly; the twitchy trembling spread throughout his body, heightening every ache and cramp. He didn't bring his eyes back to Dan's, knowing full well what would come next, already bracing himself for the words he knew would hurt, already ruined with the anticipation:
"Bullshit!" Dan retorted just as punctually. Something of anger snapped in him then and he hatefully grasped Rorschach's throat in his shaking hand and turning his head to force him look at him. "Why are you pushing me? Stop lying to me! To yourself! It's all bullshit and you know it!" He drew his arm back to hit him, to make him flinch, to draw something out of him, but all he got was those vibrant, unreadable blue eyes. "What do you want from me?"
It was Dan's words that tore the feeling from him. "Want from you?" Rorschach queried breathlessly, his brows pursing. He huffed a strangled sob, his teeth chattering as he turned away. "Don't want anything from you, Daniel. Just want out." Rorschach couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "Want you to leave me here."
"No." Dan turned Rorschach's head again slowly, his grip moving up from his neck to his jaw, cupping his cheek in his gloved palm. "No, I can't just--"
"Leave me here and--" Rorschach's words were lost as Dan lifted him again and shoved him onto the ground again. His head bounced and his vision clouded black, white spots dancing beneath his eyelids as he groaned and swallowed down nausea. He reached up blindly and Dan took his hand, stopping him before he reached him and holding his wrist inthe air. Rorschach's face twisted in a wry grimace. "Why are you doing this?" He asked softly, finally looking up into Dan's charcoal gray eyes, regarding him.
"Be-because," Dan began, the height of his own shivering hitched in his voice. "Because I'm your friend. And if anybody should be out here freezing to death with you," he forced himself to smile, "it should be me. Right?"
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be out here, Daniel."
Dan's eyes darkened and he could feel his heart breaking and out of everything he wanted, needed to say to Rorschach, he couldn't seem to find the words. If there's anybody who should be going back there with me, it's you. Dan closed his eyes, his head hanging for a moment, shaking with the truth laden in the thought. He took a few deep breaths to ease his lightheadedness and then looked at Rorschach again. "Come on, man..." He whispered helplessly. "This isn't over yet. There's more to it than just this. I know there is." Dan swallowed thickly, squeezing Rorschach's shoulder. "It's personal, right? It's always personal. That's what you meant, right? That's the difference between us?"
"Go, Daniel," Rorschach commanded, ignoring his question as he closed his hand over Dan's wrist, weakly trying to pry off his grip and shove him away. "No sense in--"
"No! I'm not letting you die out here." Dan took a deep breath, preparing to spit out his retort but what came instead as a hopeless, petulant whine. "Wh-why are you being such a goddamn coward, Rorschach?" He was crying freely now, tears freezing to his own face. "If you're giving up, what chance have I got? I'm--I'm not ready to give up yet, but... How can I do this when you've just quit? You didn't even fight. You're just-- Taking the easy way out." The words that fell out of his mouth shocked him, the truth of the terror in it all, the hopelessness and trepidation he felt, along with a new, suffocating feeling of regret that he didn't even knew he felt. And the way Rorschach looked up at him, meeting his gaze and really seeing, really listening him, it made the dam inside of him, the one that had been holding things together all these years, finally burst and he couldn't stop.
"So much of all this shit has been hinging on you, do you know that?" Dan paused to take a breath, finding it harder and harder to draw air into his lungs. "It's because of you that I'm here. Because of you that I didn't get blown up in New York. Because of you that I know about any of this shit. It's your fault. It's your fault that I've got nothing anymore." Except you. And I don't even have that. He pounded a fist on Rorschach's chest, holding his breath to withhold his sob as everything fell around him. "I-I... Oh, god," he moaned, lost in his thoughts. His eyes finally focused on Rorschach. "This is all my fault. I should have done things differently. Way back then, I should have stayed, I should have kept at it with you. I should have been there for you, man. I-- I... Shit. I screwed up. I know. I just... I'm here for you now, man. Trust me. Please. I don't want to lose you again. Don't give up on yourself. I haven't."
Rorschach was silent as he watched Dan fall apart. He reached for Dan and closed his eyes as he squeezed his friend's shoulders, with all the strength he could bring into his numbing hands, trying to ground him. He frowned gravely as he listened to Dan choke on his breath. It was the truth. Dan was telling the truth, or at least the version he knew best of it. He was hurting, sincerely and genuinely falling apart with a guilt Rorschach couldn't comprehend. His words shook him, but he didn't think Dan understood what he was really asking. "It's too late for that now, Daniel."
"No, it's never too late. Come back with me," Dan whispered, shiffling as he leaned down over his friend, his breath warming the other man's face. He bore into those stale blue eyes, searching for anything, any reassurance he could hold onto. It made the hair stand on this back of Dan's neck,to ask something like that of Rorschach, a man who took personal commitment far more seriously than anybody Dan had ever met. But for all of his sudden apprehension and all the moments that passed without the redhead's immediate rejection, that was exactly what Dan wanted, the promise of a promise he needed to make it through this. "I've never asked anything of you, Rorschach," he implored shamelessly, his teeth chattering through his words. "But now I am. I don't want to do this alone. Please."
Rorschach drew in a long staggered breath. He searched Dan's face for a hint of deceit or uncertainty and found plenty of the latter, but there was still something hopeful in it. It shook him harder than the cold could. He felt like he should be angry. Like he had every right to hate Dan for taking his sweet time to notice Rorschach reaching out to him and to try to make something of his ruined soul when it was too late and he had no desire to go on. He should despise him for making him want just a taste more of what Dan was offering him. To make him crave the pains of living just a little while longer when he had been waiting so very long for Dan to give him a reason to be anything but what he was. "Daniel, I-- My life is over."
"Then we'll start a new one," Dan insisted without missing a beat. Rorschach's eyes were intent on his, still gripping his shoulders tightly despite the decline in his strength. Dan frowned, his friend's shivering now beyond his control, shaking Dan shared his heat with him. He was running out of time and the urgency beat wildly in his chest. He couldn't fix this all right now. He just needed to give this broken man a little something more to hold onto until he had him safe and secure. "This doesn't have to be the end. The world is gonna change and rebuild itself. We can too. You're not alone in this, Rorschach. I'm here with you."
Rorschach closed his eyes, swallowing dryly as he considered Dan's words. He had told himself that if Dan had looked him in the eye as they stood in the hall, when Rorschach was saying his goodbyes to him-- If Dan had finally felt him reaching out to him and had said, "No, Rorschach, stay," he told himself that he would have. But then, he had only told himself that because he knew Dan would never risk something like this, would never put himself out there, because he didn't matter enough to him, pure and simple. He wanted to end it all but never had he feared dying so much now that he felt at tiny glimmer of hope reignite within him. He wanted to die-- but he wanted to live. And suddenly the compassionate, benevolent man leaning over him was infinitely more frightening than the prospect of his death. As Dan knelt in the snow, braving the blizzard and freezing for his sake, as he pressing Rorschach deeper into the snow with a tragic need for him to survive this with him, Rorschach was beyond afraid. What would it mean to live for Dan? Because of Dan? His eyes opened slowly. "I don't know if I c--"
"Please... I-- Rorschach, please don't make me make a choice about whether you live or die." Dan stared at him, shaking his head. "Whether the both of us-- I can't... Give yourself a chance man. And-and... don't quit on me again. I can't take it. Come back. F-For me?" He watched Rorschach search for a way, he was certain, to reject him. He almost hoped that he would. He didn't know if could do it-- If he could be the one responsible for postponing the death of a man who wanted nothing more than for it to end. Dan wanted to be his friend and that meant trying to salvage what was left of him. But Dan was starting to realize and with stark clarity, that he was in pure agony and must have always been that way. Dan looked down, realizing that he didn't really know the damaged, unsightly man below him. But he meant every word regardless. He couldn't take it back even if he wanted to, even if the guilt ate him alive-- Even if he could never save Rorschach and it killed him in the end. Because, Dan also realized, he had no choice. He couldn't deny him. Neither could he deny himself. There was something between them, born years ago, that made one need the other, cling to the on another in their darkest moments, something that refused to let the other give up on the former. Deeper than friendship and partnership. It was kinship. Brotherhood. And there was no fighting it now that he recognized it. He had no choice.
Rorschach's eyes bore into Dan's as he gazed up at him for a long moment, then looked down a bit, blinking. His eyes rose again and narrowed, and then he nodded softly, whispering his acquiescence so quietly that Dan couldn't hear it, but he knew. And when another tear trickled out, Rorschach didn't stop Dan as he reached up to swipe it away. Dan sat back on his shins and helped Rorschach sit up, a hand on his shoulder to keep him up. Rorschach clutched Dan's shoulders, holding himself up and shivering violently as the canopy Dan's body and cape had formed was gone and all their shared heat seeped away. Dan shivered as well and quickly pulled Rorschach into a tight embrace, holding him firmly against him, happy beyond words despite how heartbroken he felt. And to his surprise, Rorschach didn't fight him but returned the pull of his arms in turn, hugging him back. It wasn't the meagre, halfhearted hug Dan might have expected either. Rorschach was practically clinging to him.
Dan drew him in closer against him, wrapping his arms around him solidly, shivering with him and hoping to pool some heat between them. He considered taking off his cape to wrap around the two of them, or at least around Rorschach, but that would involve removing his cowl and exposing his head, neck, and shoulders, and that thought was simply ludicrous at this point. He let go of Rorschach for a moment, secretly pleased when the smaller man made no movement to let go of Dan in return, and brought his cape around to wrap around them both, a sharp tremor running down his spine as it was exposed to the glacial tempest blowing about them. He could practically feel the frost crawling up the zipper on his back.
"Wrap around further," Rorschach instructed lowly, his words short and clipped and his eyelids drooping low. Dan shivered harder as he felt Rorschach's arm wrap further around his middle to his back, peering down at the redhead quizzically. "Can hold it around you til ready to move," he explained into the curve of Dan's neck. After a momentary struggle, Dan pulled the cape tighter, delivered the end into Rorschach's hand, and felt it tug snugly and completely around them both, the tail of Dan's cape help between them as they were both cocooned inside by their combined effort.
Rorschach felt warmer immediately, but he couldn't shake his impending hypothermia. He was breathing slowly, his head bowed as he worked on clenching and unclenching his fists, desperately trying regain feeling as he buried his forehead under Dan's chin, trying to burrow himself further into Dan's warmth. He started when he felt Dan's hand close over his, squeezing his stiff fingers. "You okay?"
"C-Can we go inside? Can't feel my fingers anym-more." Or his toes. Or his ears or nose.
"Oh. That's why you were--" Dan started, his thoughts lost on the wind. Rorschach's twitching hands were pressed against his chest as he tried to flex them. He really couldn't feel them. They were nearly out of time and they had get back as soon as possible. "Yeah, that'd be a good idea. But just wait a minute. We'll regain a bit more heat and make a dash for the door, okay?
"Can't hardly stay awake anymore." Dan leaned away from him and looked at him, watching his eyelids fluttering closed, his lips tinted blue and trembling with cold. Dan reached for Rorschach's scarf, pulling it of his trench coat and struggling with him for a moment. But Dan finally broke out of his grasp and unfolded the scarf, bringing it up to wrap around Rorschach's ears, nose, and mouth.
"We're-- unnh..." Dan winced, his lips too cold to form the words, actually pained in the effort. That's it. Time's up. Game over. "We're not waiting. We're going n-now," he stammered, mentally swearing up and down that everything's would be alright. That they'd make it through this. But as he unwrapped the both of them and began to stand, trying to help Rorschach to his feet, he found that the smaller man was unconscious.