Who Guards the Guardians?

A HightoppsMadness Fanfiction

Author's Note: All characters not owned by HightoppsMadness are the sole property of Alan Moore and whichever heavenly comic conglomerate that owns it (I think it's DC, but I might be wrong). The events that follow are fictional and should not be attempted in real life. Also, do not expect me to update quickly; I am focusing on my Alice in Wonderland story first and foremost. Do not accuse the of being 'mary sues' as they have some serious flaws. Seriously, they need a shrink.

.U.

Dr. Manhattan pondered as he watched over his red planet. He had covered up one of the biggest lies in history. He had taken the blame for a worldwide attack on the earth. Indirectly, he had helped Ozymandias create the attack, anyway. But his comrade, his... friend, Rorschach. He hadn't taken a liking for the secrecy. He asked Manhattan to kill him. The physicist had done so without hesitation. But in his eyes, as his ally's bloody pulp of remains spilled upon the snow in a pattern so much like the mask he had worn every day, Manhattan saw the stream of time his actions had caused.

Manhattan saw time differently than the way other beings did. He saw time simultaneously; past, present, and future, helping him to know what will he do, what he had already done, and what he was doing at the moment. But Rorschach's beloved fedora fluttered towards his splattered blood, he saw something he had honestly never expected. And he wished he had hesitated to kill his friend.

.U.

The city was crowded as always. That never surprised the vigilantes. But tonight, Niteowl and Silk Spectre were at a loss for the one person they saw. Amongst the filth of the society in which they lived in, was an old friend. His fedora was perched on his masked head perfectly, his trench coat covered in the dust of his travels.

"Rorschach," the avian based hero gaped. "But... you're dead. I saw you explode."

"Did you know," Rorschach's voice was gravely, "that if you put a person's remains in that machine Manhattan made, it can reassemble the pieces?"

The two heroes were dumbstruck. Rorschach held out a leather journal. "Give this to the kid when she shows up, will you?"

He walked away, but before Niteowl could call him back, he was gone. Niteowl looked at the journal. There was nothing remarkable about it, just a leather bound journal. The years printed on it were 1965-1966. It was twenty one years old.

"The kid...?"

.T.

Connie laced up her high-tops, keeping an eye on the clock. She was late, and knew if she didn't hurry, she wouldn't be there to clean up the streets as well as she could. Connie blew out a sigh, and touched her birthmark lightly, as a good luck ritual. The shape of a butterfly, like an inkblot upon her skin. Her mother had told her it was a clue to her father a couple of days before she had died. That was five years ago, when she was twelve. Her red hair was already a clue, but she had a few men she matched up to the time frame. Of course, her mother hadn't slept with all of them, but she knew them all at that point. At the top of that list was Walter Kovacs, though she couldn't place his significance to her mother, she knew he was important somehow. He was dead, a token funeral held two years ago, along with half of New York City. There was nothing left to bury. She was there, as the only witness. Who else would care about a homeless man?

By that time, she had already started her duties as a Watchman, though not an official one. With the thought of her idol, Rorschach, in mind, she donned his fedora and trench coat combo and decided to try to help keep the filth clean as she could.

But now, she had an owl to get information from. She knew her father had died the day of the Manhattan attacks, but he didn't die in New York. What had happened to him?

.U.

Rorschach's journal. November 23, 1987.

I left the truth with Daniel. It has been fifteen years since I had seen her, but it's too painful to tell her why I wasn't there for her. Why I left her with her mother and became myself. Why I love her so much. Why I had stayed far away from her and her mother. God, she looks so much like her mother.