Chapter VI
They are an island in a sea of motion and color and sound. And the movement of life, people coming and going, cars and taxis and busses, it is all too much. A sensory overload like the sudden ability to see after a prolonged blindness. Dan thinks of a film in time-lapse, ramped up to mind-boggling speeds, brake lights and headlights on the highway nothing more than streams of red and white, torrents of people zipping through existence as if they were nothing more than automated machines. The three of them drift slowly as if on a strange, strange sea. They are now flotsam and jetsam, wreckage and debris left behind from a world in which they no longer belong.
Then they are two. Laurie is saying, "Thanks for the coffee," and "See ya, boys," and Dan is not sure if he is heart-broken, or relieved. She promises with a wink to call first next time, and vanishes around a corner.
Rorschach makes a disapproving sound as the click click click of her shoes fade from the edges of their perception. Dan squints his eyes behind his glasses and looks at the other man. There is an unspoken question hanging in the air like a heavy fog, it slowly fills the space created by the years and decades, permeating the creaks and cracks of ancient arguments, threatening to breach and expose them to the light of day once again.
He knows the trap for what it is. An attempt to bait him into leaping to Laurie's defense like the shining white knight he likes to think himself. She's not like that, he wants to say. She doesn't deserve your ugly words, he wants to tell him, or even, she's one of us, remember? And he won't fall for the ruse, so Rorschach pushes him in.
"Saw the way she flirted with you."
It's what is not spoken Dan hears loud and clear. And even still, he refuses to bite. "I'm no home-wrecker. Besides, I'm sure she doesn't even know I exist. Anyway, I couldn't possibly compete with—"
"Suggest discretion in future dealings with Miss Juspeczyk. Would not want to be seen as moving in on Manhattan's territory, could be misinterpreted as inappropriate. Dangerous to flirt with potential wrath of jealous god."
Then, like a flash of lightning, a sudden glimmer flickers in Dan's eye like a flash of a bulb. Huh. Is that so.
That glimmer makes its way slowly past his crinkled eyes, down to his smile, changing it from the usual amicable warmth to something feral, dangerous. He knowingly nods. Reads between the lines, hears loud and clear the opinion of the injured party. Instead of calling out the man for his hypocrisy, he deftly changes the subject.
"Maybe this is a weird thing to say, but I'm kind of disappointed everything reset, or whatever it was that happened. You know? Like I sort of got used to the idea of living alone." He shrugs and offers a weak smile. "Pretty selfish, huh?"
His companion does not respond, does not acknowledge he was even speaking. There is an obvious 'in' there, in those words. It is better not to name whatever weird thing they have, have had, to acknowledge it, too give it shape and meaning and birth it into reality. It is better to let it slip away unnoticed. So, instead he nods at the man in the scally cap as they approach the newsstand.
"Hey would ya look at this, didn't know ya had any friends."
"No matter. Paper in?" Rorschach sneaks a glance at Dan, and he isn't sure, but thinks that perhaps he detects a playfully teasing smile at the edges of his mouth, a slight upward motion at the lips curling around lighthearted banter as if between friends. He wonders idly if this isn't a game, a dance played by rote between two acquaintances, not because they enjoy the banter, only because its what they know.
"Look, you were here not an hour ago. It isn't in. I told you I'd set one aside—"
Something like understanding clicks in Dan's brain. "Notice anything unusual today?"
Rorschach looks up at him, knows where this is going.
"Sure. See, us news guys, we see everything that goes on. Ain't nobody more informed than me."
"Well, maybe it's nothing. Say, uh…" Shit. What the hell do I call him. Dan turns and stares at Rorschach, eyes searching his, as if trying to find a key, a clue to reveal the man Dan realizes he doesn't really know.
"Charlie," Rorschach supplies.
Really?
Dan doesn't really believe it, thinks it's a misdirection, or perhaps never really considered Rorschach to even have a normal name, just goes along with it because he has no other choice, and that doesn't stop the name from sounding foreign to his ears. It is like a puzzle piece being slotted in the wrong position, or a fuzzy photo just out of focus, accidental movements telegraphed as streaks and streams.
"Uh, Charlie," he starts, "when we were walking earlier, didn't it seem like… wait. What's that?"
A dark magazine cover catches his attention, and he reaches toward the back of the stand to lift it from its little perch there. The magazine cover displays a small group of men and women standing in front of a large device with the caption: "Do these scientists have the answers to unlocking the mysteries of the Universe? What they have learned about possible extra dimensions, and the impact the shocking discovery may have in your life."
Dan holds it up at the man in the hat, "How much?"
***
Rorschach paces behind the couch as Dan reads the article. It talks about an ambitious experimental project out in California. The facility there is conducting innovative research in cosmology. They intend to prove the existence of other dimensions. The article is vague and the science described in fuzzy terms. It is clearly intended for public consumption, the tone of the article sounding more like it would be at home in the National Enquirer than a peer-reviewed scientific journal, with its overly dramatic doomsday predictions. It feels like a start, at least. It is a lead, even if extremely vague. They have gone on less. But of course, that was different.
A tightness begins to form behind Dan's eyes. He removes his glasses and pushes his palms into his eyes, works them in until he sees spots. The tension headache still threatens. He gets up wordlessly from his spot on the couch and heads to the kitchen to make coffee.
***
Rorschach follows Daniel into the kitchen. He pulls out two mugs from the cabinet and sets them down next to the pot. Daniel gives him a sideways glare, watches him slink into the chair he has claimed as his own. Neither man speaks for the duration.
***
Dan isn't really sure how to go about this thing known as life. Things are different now. Retirement had been pretty straightforward, if dull. But dull suited him just fine. Free from self-imposed responsibility. And besides, he was made obsolete. And so he was to be content to fade away in obsolescence. He is surprised when Rorschach stays for dinner this night. He is surprised when, after Dan has gone to bed, it isn't long before he has company. The other man doesn't need to stay anymore, does he? Doesn't he have a home to go to, now that the world is set right? He watches the strange redheaded man sleep, notices how his muscles are kept taut, even in deep restfulness. Fight or flight kept readily at hand, to be uncoiled like a vicious viper at a moments notice. Dan isn't sure whether to feel pity for his friend, so obviously in pain, or anger, at himself, for never noticing before. For being so wrapped up in himself, living comfortably while his friend was still out there. He doesn't want to think about this now, a battle of conscience while he battles for wakefulness.
The morning brings an emptiness he hadn't expected, and he wakes up alone.
***