All language subtitles for Watchmen (2019) - S01E08 - A God Walks into Abar (1080p BluRay x265 Silence)-eng

What?

Would you have dinner
with me tomorrow night?

No.

I brought you a beer.

- You can see I'm a cop?
- Yes.

And I'm telling you to go,
and you're not going?

- Did you tell me to go?
- It was implied.

If I can guess why you're here
drinking all alone,

will you let me join you?

Sure.

Why am I drinking all alone?

You're commemorating the anniversary
of your parents' death.

Have a seat.

So, who at the precinct
told you to come over here?

I haven't spoken to anyone
at the precinct.

Then who told you about my parents?

- You did.
- I did not.

You will.

In about 20 minutes.

But I didn't tell you yet?

Correct.

Then how did you already know?

I'm Dr. Manhattan.

Obviously.

You're dubious.

Oh, I'm not dubious.

I'm just wondering why
the actual Dr. Manhattan is wearing

a Dr. Manhattan mask.

I don't want to be recognized.

Is this a Zeus thing?

A Zeus thing?

The Greek god?

In all the stories...

he came down from Olympus
trying to get laid,

but he turned himself into a swan
or something to blend in.

I'm guessing you popped down here
to Saigon from Mars...

20 years after you abandoned humanity.

That's not me on Mars.

Oh?

It's a recording of me carrying out
a series of pre-determined patterns,

like a computer program.

It's a decoy so that people think
it's you on Mars?

Exactly.

Then where have you been
for the past 20 years?

On Europa.

It's a moon of Jupiter.

Oh, that Europa.

And what were you doing there?

Technically, "What am I doing there?"

I don't get it.

The way I experience time is unique.
And for you, particularly infuriating.

That said,
I am simultaneously in this bar,

having a conversation with you...

and on Europa, creating life.

Ah.

And how does one "create life"?

I do it with a wave of my hand.

It's 1985.

A gossamer sheet of vapory atmosphere
thickens into an azure blanket.

Harsh tundra becomes fertile savanna...

vast swards of green spreading

across the moon's arid skin
like a verdant rash.

A primordial ocean transmutes
into a liquid creation engine.

I step out onto the amniotic lake,
a hatchery stocked with miracles,

finned, winged and hooved.

You walk on water?

Occasionally, yes.

Cool.

You take Sunday off when you're done?

No. The entire process is complete
in approximately 90 seconds.

Typical.

I'm sorry?

A man creating life in under two minutes.

Oh, a sex joke.

That's funny.

Thanks.

So, what about Adam and Eve?
You create them, too?

Adam and Eve are fictional characters.

On Europa, I did it for real.

I knitted their bodies
from the microbes in the water...

two infants that, by virtue
of accelerated biomechanical maturation,

would soon become a man and a woman.

I give them higher brain function,
instantaneous speech, self-awareness...

and then I bring them a place
in which to live,

a manor house.

You brought them a manor house?

Yes. I teleported it...

To Jupiter.

Europa. It's a...

Moon of Jupiter. You mentioned that.

You're still dubious.

Just wondering why
you zapped a house across the galaxy

when you can make one yourself.

The manor is a special place...

a place I'm connected to
from my childhood.

I feel safe there.

Because you're a child right now?

Yes.

Right now.

All at the same time,
you're talking to me here...

and you're creating life
on a moon of Jupiter...

and you're growing up at a manor
in the English countryside?

Actually, I'm raised
in Heidelberg, Germany,

until my mother falls in love
with an officer of the SS and leaves us.

My father is of Jewish ancestry.

Fearing for our lives,
he and I flee for England.

There are rumors that
the lord and lady of the manor

will take in those in need of help
before we travel to the New World.

Mmm-hmm.

- When is this happening?
- 1936.

My father was repairing a watch.

At least it's something that he can fix.

I wander the hallways
of this strange place.

It will be years before I study

the electromagnetic spectrum
of infrared light...

but I can't help but wonder
if I've become invisible.

Something catches my eye.

A sealed atmosphere unto itself.

I don't realize it at the time,

but later this will inspire me
to create a jar of my own on Europa.

In 1936, parents do not talk
to their children about sex.

There, in the darkness of a closet...

I have no idea
what I'm seeing or hearing.

But whatever these two
are doing to one another,

it is overwhelmingly joyful.

This is the first time I know love.

Now, here are some new faces.

Welcome.

- My name is Hans Osterman.
- Hans.

Thank you deeply for opening your home.

Introduce yourself.

Jon.

Eyes up.

- Hello, Jon.
- Hello.

Hans, might we talk to Jon in private?

We like to get to know all the children
during their stay here.

We know you saw us in the bedroom.

And it's all right.

What we were doing...

Good Lord. Er...

What you witnessed was a good thing.

It was a beautiful thing.

We were creating a life.

You see, we, er... We had a son.

He would have been about your age,
but he, er... He fell ill and died.

Such was God's will.

And it is God's will for us to try again.

Jon, this is for you.

Do you own a Bible?

No. Papa does not believe in this.

Oh, well, that's all right.

These are still very beautiful stories.

The first one is called Genesis...

and it's about how God created the world.

You see, there was a time
when there was nothing at all...

and he made everything.

The sky, the seas.
He even made the people.

And they were called Adam and Eve.

What if we made a trade?

You could do us a favor
in return for the Bible.

When you leave this place,

long after,
when you grow into a man in America...

make it your purpose
to create something beautiful.

- Will you do that for us, Jon?
- All right.

Then say it, Jon.

I will create something beautiful.

Seven decades later...

and 390 million miles away...

I fulfill my promise.

I'm creating something beautiful.

Within the pocket of atmosphere
I synthesized,

and before the very structures
they lived and died in decades earlier...

I made Adam and Eve,
not in my own image, but in theirs.

Wow. I gotta tell you, man...

you have a fantastic imagination.

What, you got something
caught in your throat?

Six months from now,

a friend is telling me
I have a profound lack of imagination.

You have friends?

Perhaps he's more of a colleague.

He tried to kill me once.

I wonder why.

So, tell me...

if you went through all this trouble
to create the Garden of Eden...

then why'd you leave?

So I could meet you.

Come on, man.

I love you.

Oh?

We just met.

When the fuck
did you fall in love with me?

I was already in love with you.

Before you even saw me?

I don't experience
the concept of "before."

So there's no moment.

"Moment"?

A moment...

when you realize,
"Oh, shit, I'm in love."

For example, I'm looking at you
hiding behind your mask...

and I'm having the opposite
of that moment.

Hmm.

You might be pretty good-looking

if you didn't cover yourself
in blue makeup.

It's not makeup.

- You're naturally blue?
- That's right.

I thought Dr. Manhattan glows.

I could if I wanted to,
but it would attract too much attention.

Come on. Nobody in here's gonna notice.

Just glow a little bit.

I'd rather you remain unsure

before you agree
to have dinner with me tomorrow night.

My blue friend,

you think you may know all about me...

but you have made a critical error
in your approach.

I hate Dr. Manhattan.

Why?

Forty years ago, Nixon comes
to Big Blue, asks him to go to Vietnam.

Manhattan goes, 100 feet tall...

torches the Viet Cong
with lasers from his hands.

A little boy watches his village burn.

Boy grows up...

becomes a puppeteer
because he wants to hold the strings.

He makes a bomb.

That bomb kills my parents
22 years ago tonight.

Tonight is the anniversary
of your parents' death?

You knew that.

You said it before you sat down.

Yes, but you just told me now.

As for Vietnam...

I was trying to be
what people wanted me to be.

A soldier, a superhero, a savior.

I tried to do the right thing,

and if it's any consolation,
I do regret it.

Aha.

Then you must've known that you would
end up regretting it before you did it.

So why do it anyway?

Haven't you ever done anything
you knew you were gonna regret?

Maybe.

Then will you have dinner with me
tomorrow night?

Well, you know everything
that's gonna happen.

Am I having dinner with you
tomorrow night?

Yes.

Incorrect.

Tonight you fit in with all the other
drunk Manhattan wannabes

stumbling around for VVN.

But tomorrow, you're gonna stick out
like a sore blue thumb.

If I walk into a restaurant with you,
people are gonna stare, man.

Why go to a restaurant
when I can teleport you anywhere?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, that sounds great.

But eventually, we're gonna
have to go out. In public.

So how are you gonna pull that off, Doc?

Actually, you've come up with
a rather elegant solution

to the problem of my appearance.

- Have I?
- Yes.

You're explaining it to me right now.

Actually, for you...

Two weeks from right now.

Dao Van Noi, 26.

Accidental gas leak.

No next of kin.

Michael Declan. Age 36.

Heroin overdose. No next of kin.

William Heath. Age 33.
Killed himself. No next of kin.

Lived alone, died alone and in 48 hours,
they're all gonna be cremated...

ashes floating over Saigon.

Pick one.

I could actually look like
anyone you want, Angela.

Why limit it to just these men?

Because they're real.

They have birth certificates,
Social Security numbers, passports,

everything that you need
to exist in this world.

So pick.

I don't care what I look like.

Whatever form I take is the one
you should be comfortable with.

Well, I don't care either.

Then you should have no problem
choosing one of these men.

Unless, for some reason,

you have yet to present
all of the options.

His name is Calvin Jelani.
He just dropped dead.

Probably a heart attack.

There's no family
to pay for an autopsy, so...

Ashes over Saigon.

I'd be comfortable with him.

I like the name, Calvin.

What do you think?

You sound different.

My vocal cords loosened
in the transformation.

- Shall I adjust them back?
- No. I'm good.

You... forgot your thing.

I'm going to forget so much more.

Conversation for another time.

- I have an elegant solution?
- Yes.

- Okay. What is it?
- I can't tell you.

- Why not?
- Because then it won't be your idea.

- Man, you have got this shit down.
- Thank you.

So you can see the future,
but you just won't tell me about it?

I'm not seeing the future,
I'm experiencing it.

And you're experiencing tomorrow night,
and you and me are having dinner?

- Right.
- Wrong.

But I'll play.

So, after dinner,
how long are we together?

Ten years.

That seems manageable.

I'll still be young.
I can fall in love again.

How does it end?

Tragically.

You want to be a little more specific?

I'd rather not.

So, ten years, tragic ending.
I can roll with that.

But I'm still not convinced.

Convinced of what?

That you know what's gonna happen next.

Your favorite song is about
to play on the jukebox.

Right now.

Oh, my God. Holy shit.

I have never even heard this song before.

It's called Tunnel of Love,
and now it's your favorite.

You don't know shit about the future...

but you are funny.

You find it amusing now.

But in six months, it's the reason
you're telling me to leave.

- I thought we were together ten years.
- We are.

Then what happens in six months?

It's happening right now.
We're making love.

Hmm. Doesn't sound like
I'm telling you to leave.

Not yet.

Right now you're asking where I am.

Where are you?

I'm in the bar, the night we met.

Just before I create the egg.

I'm telling you about the fight
we're going to have.

Shut up.

That you're telling me to leave...

- Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
- All right.

God damn it.

We're not gonna fight.

Because I'm not gonna tell you to leave.

We are, and you will.

I'm sorry, but it's already occurring.

Do you wanna fight?

No. But the fight will still happen
regardless of my intent.

Not if we don't let it.

You knew this about me,
who I am, how I perceive things.

I told you the very first night we met,

knowing that it would lead
to this argument.

- We are not in an argument.
- We're close.

And now you say,

- "Don't tell me..."
- Don't tell me

- what I'm gonna fucking say.
- "...what I'm gonna fucking say."

This is not fair.

If we're not gonna be together,
then why are we even fucking together?

It makes no sense.

Until now, my ability to know the future
was immensely reassuring to you.

It gave you a sense of safety

and stability that you never had
growing up in the orphanage.

Uh-uh.

Was your childhood
not filled with the constant fear

- that you would never have a family...
- Don't you dare.

...because yours was taken away
from you?

Stop.

We're in the fight now.

Yeah, we fucking are.

What do you know about fear?

When was the last time
you were even afraid?

It's 1959.

I'm in Gila Flats, New Mexico.

I left my watch inside
the intrinsic field chamber,

and now I'm locked inside,

fully aware that when the countdown
ends, my skin will burn off of my body.

So 50 years?

The last time you were afraid
was 50 years ago?

No, Angela.
I'm being torn apart right now.

And then you put yourself back together,
piece by piece.

And then you were never scared again.

Because if you know everything
that's gonna happen,

what is there to be afraid of?
What is there to risk?

I'm taking a risk.

I've been taking a risk every day
since you walked up to me in that bar.

What the fuck are you doing?

I'm sorry.

Do you need me to say it?

Yes.

Leave.

Reactor meltdown. Idiots!

Gave them every opportunity.

Solar, wind, wireless power transmission.

Why, oh, why do they need

to keep making their godforsaken bombs?

This may appear paradoxical...

but they make them feel safe.

Nice to see you again, Jon.

It's nice to see you too, Adrian.

How did you know it was me?

Because only Dr. Manhattan
would have the balls

to show up here
wearing nothing but his birthday suit.

Should I put something on?

Welcome back to Antarctica, Jon.

I do appreciate this visit.

How long has it been?

For you, 24 years, 41 days and 13 hours.

For me, it's happening...

Right now. Yes, yes. I remember.

So, Jon, what am I saying to you,
24 years, 41 days and 13 hours ago?

You've just attempted to destroy me.

I'm telling you
that I'm disappointed in you.

Right.

Sorry about that.

Now you're explaining that you've
just killed three million people.

"Morally, you're in checkmate,"
you're telling me.

I was gambling.

Gambling?

That you had morals.

Still fabricating alien incursions,
I see.

And maintaining world peace...

one cephalopod at a time.

That's quite an interesting form
you've decided to take.

Interesting?

It's not the '80s anymore, Jon.

This kind of appropriation is considered
quite problematic now.

It's 2009, Doctor.

A lot has changed
while you were on Europa.

How do you know I was on Europa?

A little elephant told me.

What I don't know is why a blue man
is masquerading as a human.

Though I might venture an educated guess.

What's her name?

Angela.

Love.

Well, let me guess again.

You're wearing this face
because she has no idea

you're the most omnipotent being
in the history of civilization...

whereas you just want her
to love you for you.

I told her who I was
the moment I met her.

She knows who you are?

Yes.

Ah!

That's the rub.

Because who in their right mind

would want to be
romantically linked to a god?

So you don't just want
to look like a mortal...

you want to be one.

Will you help me?

Why can't you do it yourself?

You tell me, Adrian.

Because you have
a profound lack of imagination.

I got to give it to you, man.

You have a fantastic imagination.

You laugh now?

This Angela must be quite something.

Six months ago she's telling me
I have a fantastic imagination.

Tell me something.

Do you have a brain?

I'm sorry?

Well, you seem to have replicated
basic human physiognomy,

but what about the physiology?

You do have a brain?

Internal organs? Blood?

- Yes.
- Yeah.

Why?

Well...

theoretically...

we could insert a device
into your prefrontal cortex

that would short-circuit your memory.

Without the awareness of your abilities...

you wouldn't know to use them...

except perhaps as a reflex
in life-threatening situations.

You could walk and talk
and live among the normals undetected.

You just wouldn't know
you were Dr. Manhattan.

And how long would it take
for you to make this device?

Oh, my dear, sweet Jon.

I made it 30 years ago.

As you reminded me earlier, Jon,
I did try to destroy you.

But the intrinsic field subtractor
that I lured you into

was, in fact, plan B.

"B" for "blowing you up."

Tell me, Jon...

do you know what is inside this?

Actually, I don't.

Because I irradiated it
with tachyon particles.

One small part of the universe
even you can't see.

A blind spot.

This, Jon...

is plan A.

"A" for "amnesia."

Now, you tell your Angela...

to put this here.

The effect should be immediate.

You'll forget who you are,
what you can do

and everything
that's ever happened to you.

So if you have any business to finish,
now would be the time to finish it.

Angela has a grandfather
that she's not yet aware of.

He and I have matters to discuss.

Well, best discuss them now
while you still know you are you.

Thank you, Adrian.

I'll do that.

There's one thing
that I'd like in exchange.

I saved the world
from nuclear Armageddon, Jon.

Aside from you and a select few...

nobody knows.

My plans for a great future...

ignored.

I once asked you, Jon...

whether...

it was all worth it in the end.

You avoided answering...

by saying...

"Nothing ever ends."

Tell me now, Jon.

Will I live to see my utopia?

Yes.

But not here.

I don't understand.

I sought to create a kind of life
that was...

superior to the life here on Earth.

Kinder.

Gentler.

Beings who are designed to care
for others, instead of themselves.

And I did it, Adrian.

I did it on Europa.

It's a beautiful place.

Verdant and untouched,

teeming with life,
completely devoid of conflict.

But all they want is to please me,
to adore me.

Their love is infinite,

which is the very reason
it's so unsatisfying.

Which means
I must leave my creations behind.

They're still there.

Just waiting for someone to worship.

Sounds like... paradise.

Would you like me
to send you there, Adrian?

Yes, Jon.

I would like that.

Godspeed.

I just push it into your head?

Yes.

I'll make myself intangible.

Be sure to withdraw your hand
very quickly.

How do you know it's gonna work?

I don't.

That's what makes it a risk.

Are you gonna forget
how to speak or walk?

No. My understanding is that
it will only affect my memory.

Perhaps you could tell me
I was in some kind of accident.

We should leave Vietnam.

Start over where nobody knows us.

I can be a cop anywhere.

How about Tulsa?

It's where my family's from.

I think that's a great idea.

Of course you do. It's yours.

Actually, it was yours.

What's wrong?

If you forget everything...

will you still be you?

My memories may be lost, Angela...

but you won't be losing me.

Okay, you're losing me, man.

And you're not giving me
a lot to work with here, Dr. Manhattan,

so dinner tomorrow night
is gonna be a hard no

unless I get some proof.

Do you have anything in mind?

You said you can create life.
Create some life right now.

All right.

That's it?

It is technically life.

A chicken would've been better.

But you will still have dinner with me?

No. But I am interested in hearing
more about these ten glorious years

we're together before tragedy strikes.

What would you like to know?

- Do we have any kids?
- Yes, three, a boy and two girls.

Hmm. Are they, like, half-gods?

I would never pass my abilities
on to someone without their consent.

So that's a thing you can do?

Give someone your powers?

I suppose I could transfer
my atomic components

into some sort of organic material.

If someone were to consume it,

they would inherit my powers.

So you can put them in this egg,
and if I ate it, I could walk on water?

Theoretically, yes.

Well, I don't want kids.

I've never wanted kids,
and I'm never gonna have kids.

So sorry, Doc,

you're gonna have to find
another egg to knock up.

They're not our biological children.

They're adopted.

- Where do we adopt them?
- Tulsa.

- What?
- Tulsa, Oklahoma.

It's where your family's from.

- Who told you that?
- You did.

Uh-uh. No, I didn't.

You will.

Six months from now,
when I give you the ring.

Ring?

Now we're getting engaged?

In a manner of speaking, yes.

But this is after the big fight,

- when I tell you to leave?
- Yes.

Okay. So then, these three kids,

how long are we living in Tulsa
before we adopt them?

That I don't know.

What do you mean, you don't know?
I thought you know everything.

There's a period of time I cannot see.

When I try to look,
there's only darkness.

All I know is that you're there
before it begins,

and you're there when it ends.

Why are you smiling?

Nothing.

It's just what you said.

Just sounds a lot like a tunnel.

The tunnel of love.

The tunnel of love.

Ten years, huh?

Then tragedy?

That's right.

But you're not gonna tell me
what happens.

I won't.

Maybe I should leave this thing
in your brain.

That way you won't know
how it all ends up.

I leave it entirely in your hands.

You wanna get down on one knee?

I do.

I love you.

I love you, too.

Hey, baby.

We're in fucking trouble.

Cal?

Jon?

Are you okay?

Jon.

Jon.

We're in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

It's 2019.

I had to wake you up...

because you're in danger.

The people here, they're bad people.

They know who you are...

and they're coming to hurt you.

Do you know who you are?

You still have his face.

Jon, the kids are upstairs.

You can't look like this, okay?

You need to change back.

No.

I need to move forward.

What do you mean?

- Jon, we don't have time for this...
- This clock is damaged.

Do you remember what happened?
How it broke?

It is Christmas.
A man in a mask kicks in the door.

You push me down.

The bullet hits the clock.

There were two of them.

One of them was about to shoot me
in the kitchen,

but you zapped him away.

Without the awareness of your abilities,

you wouldn't know to use them...

except perhaps as a reflex
in life-threatening situations.

Thank you, Adrian.

Now I understand what happened.

Adrian?

Who were you talking to?

I'm sorry, Angela.

This must be frustrating for you.

I'm experiencing confusion
as a result of the device being removed,

and I'm not entirely sure when I am.

Would you excuse me for a moment, please?

Motherfucker.

- Daddy!
- Daddy!

Oh, shit.

Daddy!

Daddy!

- Mom.
- Daddy!

It's okay. It's okay.

What's happening?

There's a blue man on our swimming pool.

Look.

He looks like Cal.

That's because he is.

Motherfucker.

Where are they?

Where did you send them?

It's all right.

- They're safe.
- No. Uh-uh.

Get the fuck up off the pool
and tell me where they are right now.

- You need to see me on the pool.
- Why?

- It's important for later.
- Okay.

I've seen it.

Now tell me where you sent our children.

They're with your grandfather.

What?

They're at the Dreamland Theater
in downtown Tulsa right now.

It's all right.
Your grandfather was expecting them.

When did you talk to my grandfather?

Ten years ago, I'm standing in Karnak.

Veidt is offering me the device,
and he's telling me...

So if you have any unfinished business...

now's the time to finish it.

And so I teleport to New York City.

I'm walking up to a mansion
once owned by Nelson Gardner...

also known as Captain Metropolis,
the leader of the Minutemen.

When he died years ago,

he bequeathed this property
to an old acquaintance.

Mr. Reeves. Hello.

My name is Jon Osterman.

Is that supposed to mean something to me?

Oh.

You may know me better as Dr. Manhattan.

May we talk for a moment?

Yeah.

All right.

Aren't you supposed to be blue?

I recently made some changes in my life.

I'm about to make a few more,
which is why I wanted to speak with you.

Mr. Reeves...

our lives have become entangled
in a most profound way

through someone known to both of us.

But the future is uncertain,

and my ability to influence events
is limited.

In order to ensure an optimal outcome,
I would like to form an alliance.

You want to team up with me?

You are Hooded Justice.

A hero.

Ah. That's what this is all about.

You want me to put on
a goddamn mask, huh?

No.

This is about Angela.

Angela?

Your granddaughter.

I don't have a granddaughter.

But you had a son.

He had a daughter.

Which makes her your granddaughter.

Oh. That's how it works out, huh?

I met her in Vietnam.

We are in love.

Soon we will marry and move to Tulsa,
where she'll be a police officer.

I don't know why the hell
she'd wanna go to Tulsa.

I'm not sure she knows yet...

but I suspect it's because she senses
it is where she comes from.

What the hell you want with me?

Nothing.

But Angela does. She wants your help.

She doesn't even know I exist.

That is because you choose to let her
be ignorant to your existence.

No. She don't want me in her life.

She does.

What the fuck do you know?

I know the moment I first see her,
I sense profound emptiness...

and loss.

I know because
she says over and over again

that she doesn't want a family,

yet it is clear through her actions
that it is all that she wants.

I know because
I'm talking to her right now.

You're talking with him right now?

Relatively, yes.

For you it's right now,
but for him it's ten years ago.

That's right.

You talking to her right now?

Relatively, yes.

Can you ask him something?

Of course.

Ask him, how did he know Judd Crawford
was a part of Cyclops?

Ask him, how did he know
there was a fucking Klan robe

hidden in his closet?

She wants to know how you knew
Judd Crawford was a member of Cyclops,

and how you knew
he had a Klan robe hidden in his closet.

Who's Judd Crawford?

He said he doesn't know
who Judd Crawford is.

But he does now.

No. No, no, no. Shit.

Did I start all this?

Did I send my grandfather here?
Is this my fault?

I'm confused.

You're confused?

Isn't it a good thing
that Judd Crawford is dead?

Does it matter where the idea came from?

Yes, it matters.

I only asked the old man about Crawford
because he murdered him.

The chicken or the egg.

What?

The paradox.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

The answer appears to be both.

At exactly the same time.

I'm hungry.

Motherfucker!

What the hell are you doing?

Making waffles.

Watch the eggs.

God damn it, Jon.
We don't have time for this.

I woke you up
because the Kavalry knows who you are,

and they are coming for you.

You might have an alliance
with my grandfather,

but he has one with Lady Trieu,

and I'm pretty sure
she knows who you are, too.

- So stop fucking around...
- They're already here.

What?

The Seventh Kavalry.

They're in a truck
parked across the street.

On the back of the truck
is a tachyonic cannon,

which they will use
to involuntarily teleport me...

and then destroy me.

They've been here all this time,
and you're just now telling me?

There were more important matters
to discuss.

They want to kill you.

- Yes.
- So then let's fucking stop them.

We can't.

- Why not?
- We can't stop them.

- There's nothing we can do.
- There's something I can do.

What?

This is the moment.

What moment?

I just told you that you can't save me...

and you're going to try to anyway.

In the bar the night we met,

you asked me about the moment
I fell in love with you.

This is the moment.

Is that supposed to be romantic?

- Sorry?
- All this time we've been together,

and you fall in love with me now?

No. I've always been in love with you.

My perception of time...

Yeah. I get it.
You stay here while I save your life.

Hey!

Fuck.

We win.

You were wrong.

No, Angela.

I wasn't.

What?

I'm sorry.

Jon!

I can't keep calling you Dr. Manhattan.

What's your first name?

It's Jon.

No "H."

Jon with no "H."

I'm Angela.

I know.

Yes, of course you do.

So, we spend ten years
in the tunnel of love,

and once we're out,
something terrible happens?

That's right.

But you won't tell me what that is?

I won't.

Okay, Jon,
it was really nice talking to you.

Definitely one of the more
interesting conversations I've had.

But I cannot get serious with someone

if I know it's just gonna end in tragedy.

By definition,
don't all relationships end in tragedy?

Yeah. I guess you have a point.

Then, will you have dinner with me
tomorrow night?

Fuck it.

Why not?

Will you stay, Master?

No.

Will you stay, Master?

No.

Will you stay, Master?

No.

Will you stay, Master?

No.

Will you stay, Master?

No.

If you sing
"For He's a Jolly Good Fellow..."

I'll vomit all over your boots.

Philips and Crookshanks insisted
on preparing this for you.

Before or after they repeatedly
smashed tomatoes in my face?

An action they would
certainly desist on performing

if you agreed to stay.

If I didn't know better,
I'd assume you want to suffer.

Do you know better?

Would you like me
to get you another book?

No. I like this one.

Why?

You wouldn't understand.

It's about loneliness.

I understand loneliness.

'Cause your big blue daddy
left to get a pack of cigarettes

and never came back?

I was here.

The very first to emerge from the water.

I was here when he put light in the sky
and air in my lungs.

I saw grass sprout from dead earth.

And soon after I saw him
bring the beasts forth to graze upon it.

He made Heaven...

before my very eyes.

Why is Heaven not enough?

This is not my home.

My home is 390 million miles away.

And my children...

all eight billion of them,

are undoubtedly standing in their cribs,

crying out in desperation
for me to return.

Heaven is not enough because...

Heaven doesn't need me.

Enjoy your fucking cake.