a/n: okay, so this bit is very talky. And kinda weird. As always, comments and criticism welcome.

Interlude

"The quantum theory is based on the idea that there is a probability that all possible events, no matter how fantastic or silly, might occur." - Physicist Michio Kaku

Laurie doesn't know where in the hell she is. She doesn't know why the air seems almost too thick and certainly too humid to breath easily. The whole of the world seems to be made of an off-white, almost gray haze. There is a sharp smell of ozone heavy in the air; it reminds Laurie very strongly of a particularly violent thunderstorm from her childhood. She remembers hiding under the covers until it all was over. An odd odor clinging in the air in the storm's aftermath. There are also eerie, but oddly beautiful harmonies, like an otherworldly orchestra, radiating softly all around, from all direction. As if the very world were made of sound. She doesn't know why Jon has brought her here. It's a very weird place. All she knows is that she is literally getting sick at his feet. And he doesn't seem to notice. Or care. She wants to yell at him, vent her frustration that he can't just pick her up and drop her off any old place without telling her first. Not that having any warning would help; it's the principle of the thing. The smell of her own stomach contents coupled with the over-warm environment causes her to feel sick all over again. She begins an uncontrollable bout of dry heaves.

When she stands up, she tries her best to look as dignified as possible. And what possible dignity she musters doesn't amount to a real lot. She runs her hands over her hair, flattening and readjusting it as need be. Then she runs her hands down her shirt and pants, brushing out wrinkles, straightening creases, giving a sharp tug to her shirtfront. She feels shaky and a bit on edge. She reaches in her pocket for a tobacco pipe and lighter.

"That may not be wise," the glowing blue man says, calmly, distantly. He gently reaches out and pushes her hand down. "I do not know what the chemical reaction will cause in this environment."

She just shoots him a deadly dagger-sharp glare. "What. The hell, Jon. Why did you bring me here?" She throws up her arms in frustration.

"There has been an anomaly in what you would normally think of as the universe," Jon states, matter-of-factly. Laurie's posture switches from frustration to bored apathy as she folds her arms over her chest. "I have brought you here in order to discuss the situation. This information will be helpful to you for when we return to Earth."

"How can The Universe have an anomaly? Jon. I didn't ask you to bring me to this weird void world. This isn't very funny."

"I agree. It is not very funny. That was not my intention. Please, allow me to explain." He gently takes her hand, stares intently into her eyes. What he is about to say will shock her. He dislikes seeing her cry, and wishes to minimize her anxiety. He speaks in a tone he hopes is non-threatening. "We inhabit but one of many universes. New universes are constantly born. Budding off others, while older depleted universes collapse and die. This process goes on for infinity."

She pulls her hand away quickly. "Is that where we are now? The universe is called 'The Universe' because there is only one, right? So how can a new universe even be possible?" When they were in their first years into their relationship, Jon had a sense of humor. Hard to believe now, but he had a sharp and dry wit. Over the years, he seemed less and less like that man. Maybe, just maybe he was now having a practical joke at her expense. Trying to reclaim that part of his personality. At least that explanation she could understand.

He looks at her with a fondness she may not even comprehend. She is skeptical, he can see that written plainly on her face, and that is perfectly understandable. She does not perceive things the way he does. Years from now, he will take her to another unusual place in the universe. He will hold a conversation with her wherein he describes the manner in which he sees the strings. Here, in this relatively juvenile universe, they listen to them together. "Yes," he continues. Moments from now, he waits patiently until she stops crying. "We currently inhabit a sufficiently oxygen-rich universe. We are separate from the anomaly. The anomaly was the result of the formation of a nascent universe. In its creation, it inadvertently pulled all living matter from our own native universe. I did not expect to witness such a phenomenon within the span of human civilization. The probability is that remote."

Laurie completely drops her defensive position. She feels as if he has thrown a bowling ball at her stomach. She feels dizzy and light-headed. "E-everyone? Are they all…?"

He tenderly places a hand on her head, and she lets out a sob. She cries for several minutes. She takes large, gulping breaths, and as she slowly starts to come back to herself, she wonders if everyone on Earth was as fortunate as she currently is. To at least be deposited in a world containing enough air to breath. He softly places his hand on her chin, and she slowly stands to meet his eyes. They seem to swirl and glitter, and she wonders if universes exist there within those eyes.

"Am I the only human left?" She says. Her voice is quiet, as if she has completely digested this amazing revelation. Her expression, however reads complete disbelief.

"No," he says. He notices her pulsing heartbeat has slowed to a more normal pace, and she lets out a long, airy breath.

"I am unaware that Dreiberg and Rorschach have been left behind. You will inform me in the very near future they had believed themselves the sole survivors of the end of humanity. They existed in this manner for several days. Every living creature on Earth will return. They experienced no discomfort. Most are oblivious to the event."

Laurie believes it would be no great exaggeration to say she needed to collect her jaw from the floor. Ground. Gray mass-less thing underfoot. To say she was stunned would be the single greatest understatement in the history of understatements. In the world. In the Universe. In all the universes that ever was and ever will be.

She did not know what to say. "Everyone in the world? They are gonna be okay? Did they end up in a world like this one? Enough air to breath? What about food and water?" Several days. That must have been unbearable. And Dan. She cannot imagine trying to survive in a totally empty world. With Rorschach as the only other human on the planet. Dear god. She never did understand why he put up with that weirdo for all those years. She makes a mental note to give him a phone call first thing.

She sighs and suddenly feels very fatigued. The idea of a hot bath and a comfy bed beckons. "I'm tired of talking. My head is swimming and I'm not gonna pretend I understand half of what your talking about. I just want to go home."

"And so we shall."

A/n: so, yeah, this is the bad science. I am not a scientist, physicist, string theorist or whatever, just a complete layperson, so I have mostly bs'd my way thru this.

Inspiration from Machio Kaku's "Parallel Worlds" and Brian Greene's "The Elegant Universe"