Work Text:
“I just hope we’re not too late,” wheezed Dan, winded.
“Your fault if we are,” muttered Rorschach, “Wouldn’t stop for directions.”
Adrian stared incredulously.
“Late for what? Who—is that Rorschach?”
Dan frowned. “Too late to stop whatever insanity you’ve been planning! This end-of-the-world plot! When were you going to do it, anyway?”
“Do it? I did it thirty-five YEARS ago!”
Dan and Rorschach looked at each other, taking in the wild gray beards emerging under their masks.
“Took longer than expected to find this place,” Rorschach grumbled finally, “No signposts.”
“So...we are too late?” asked Dan.
Adrian facepalmed.