Liebestod
Movie!V's Love-death
Warning: unexpurgated maudlin self-pity on my part. Sorry. cries
Disclaimer: characters belong to Moore, Lloyd, and WB
"Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an Idea, Mr. Creedy, and Ideas are bulletproof.
V lunges for Creedy's throat, slams him against the gate, lifts him, feels the bones of his neck. With a twist and a crack it is over. V holds him a few beats longer, counting one, two, three, breathing in, breathing out until Creedy's heels stop their staccato jerks; until Creedy hangs from the gallows of V's arms, dead.
V drops him. He relaxes, gasps for air. It's over. It's over. It's over. He reaches for the wall to steady himself. It's over. More air. Now what? Yes, Evey. I must get back to Evey. If I die here she will come looking for me. She will leave the train, she will find me here. He tilts the mask, he can see ten bodies strewn about him. Ten men, all but one bled out into the stagnant water covering the floor of Victoria Station. She will have to wade through a sea of blood, her ankles covered with it, she will have to kneel in it. No. I can not die here. He turned and took a step.
That tunnel. That tunnel will take me back to my train. I will never make it. V fumbles at his belt. Heavy. Too heavy. The buckle falls apart under his gloved fingers, the belt falls to the ground, used, spent, useless, the knives gone. It splashes in a bloody puddle. Now the armor. He pulls at the metal plate which covers his chest, sways, vertigo nearly overcomes him and he fights for consciousness. I must get back to Evey. Cannot die here. The plate falls away with a clang and a splash. He is lighter, he can stand. New energy flows back to his limbs. That tunnel. One step, another. He forces his legs to obey. They betray me! They are weak. Only a few steps, I cannot. The wall looms before him. Somehow the wall comes to him. Holds him up. "Ah," his breath flees his lungs. He pauses, gathering strength for the next push. How much time do I have? Exsanguination. He puts both hands to his belly, his chest. Bullets in his thighs, his arms, this one through his side, several through his shoulders. Oh. And this one, he puts a gloved finger over the one in his neck. This one bleeds the most, though I feel the one that tore through my lung…that one hurts. That one…hard to breathe. Arteries? No. I'd be dead already. Veins? Not the vital ones. How much time? It was hard to think. Exsanguination: ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. Less if I have to go far. How far? He cannot remember, but he has to go. Cannot stay here. The wall holds him up; he pushes off with his hand. Time to go. He takes a step into the tunnel. Behind him, a V-shaped blood smear is marked on the wall of Victoria Station.
Darkness, then a light; eerie forms flutter in the darkness, shadows, sounds. V focuses on his legs. One step, another, another. The wall helps. The wall reaches out and holds him every few steps, lets him gather more strength for the next one. But he can feel his life draining away liike the gauge on his ammeter. I have this much left, now this much. The needle was dropping rapidly. Must get back to Evey. She must not go looking for me in these tunnels. Finch has been in these tunnels the last few weeks. He is here now. I can feel him. She must stay with the train. If he finds her, if he finds her… Must go faster. He swing his legs out farther, makes his strides longer, one hand on the wall, always the wall. Friendly wall. Helping wall. He has to think to breathe. No pain. Pain doesn't matter.
But it does matter. Every few steps it overwhelms him. His body is rebelling. It wants to die. It wants to lie down. Lie down and die. Now. No! Not yet. Another step. Lie down! Lie down or we will take you down, his body screams at him. V grits his teeth. Another step. The wall is with me. The wall is stronger than I am. And Evey. Will she pull the lever? Can she hear Big Ben from here? He can. It is after eleven. He hears the half-past-the-hour chime echoing through the tunnel. Will she still be there? Did she leave? He stops. The wall holds him. Breathe.
If she is gone…ice flows where hot blood had been. She did not wait. She is already looking for him, she pulled the lever too soon, not waiting for the music. She decided not to pull the lever. She has gone. She has abandoned me. My books…he breathes. The Gallery…his throat contracts, no air can get in. The tunnel spins around him and he finds himself down on one knee. The wall has betrayed him. It let him fall. The ground. The ground will not betray him. He puts his hand there to feel it. Yes. Solid. Always there, the ground. It is slick, sticky, warm. The ground is bleeding…no. It's me.
I am merging with the ground, but not yet! Not yet! Perhaps she is not gone, yes. She is waiting for me. His jaw clenches with the effort. Push the ground, push the ground. You will not have me yet! The wall reaches out to help him. Sorry I let you down, the wall says. Feel me. Use me. I will take you to her. It's not far. V presses his shoulder against the wall, pushes on the ground. Stands. Sways. Not far. Another step and another. This is the end. A wave of relief washes away the pounding pain. Soon it will be over. Evey will take care of my books, my music, the paintings, my roses…She will love them as I have loved them. He takes another step, his boots drag on the pavement, the wall reaches for him and pulls him along. Good friend, the wall. Good friend.
And the train? Love for his train gives him strength for another step, maybe even two. My train. If she pulls the lever, my gift to London, to Britain, to humanity. The faces of the multitude appear in his mind. Don't let this happen again, he says to them. Don't be afraid, he tells them. Remember who you are! Your accomplishments! Science! Literature! Love and Roses! Music and dancing. Build upon the rubble I have given you! When there is nothing but rubble, there can be no fear of further destruction! You can only build. And do it right this time! I have faith in you. I love you. I love you. He falls. The wall tries to stop him. The ground catches him. He is down. Hot stabbing pain strikes at him from his feet to his head, then another icy spear. He begins to shake.
Exsanguination. I am dying. Soon shock will still my legs, blood will fill both lungs and I will die. The wall tugs at him. Get up! Get up! I will help you, it says The ground pushes back. Get up, the ground says, this is not where I take you. I will take you later, not now. Get up! The wall takes his hand, pulls him up to his knees. The ground pushes his legs, he stands. Through this doorway, the ground says, she is there. She is waiting for you.
He takes a shaking step, feels the doorway, sees the light from his tunnel. My tunnel. Clean and bright where he had repaired the damage Norsefire had done to the arteries of London. The wall holds him, but the ground wants him. It wants him now. Here. He puts his hands out, but misses, his hat falls to the ground. The ground has his hat. Soon it will have all of me. He groans. This is it. He has nothing left. Nothing.
"V!" he hears his name. His name, her voice. She did wait for him! I have made it to the train. He feels her arms on him as he lets the ground take him. I have done it. I am finished. I am safe.
"Oh! We must stop the bleeding!" He hears the fear in her voice; he wishes he could see her, but everything is dark now.
"Please don't. I'm finished," he tries to breathe. He shivers. Exsanguination. Only enough blood left. Just enough to tell her. He can feel it pooling beneath him, the ground is calling to him, is pulling everything he has out of him. He focuses, inhale. Take a breath.
"For twenty years I thought of nothing but this day. Until I saw you." He breathes, "I fell in love with you… like I never thought I could."
"I don't want you to die!"
He hears her voice tremble. She sounds far away. Though he can no longer see her, he can feel her hands on him. Warm and soft. Tiny. Fluttering. Like a bird, she is. A little brown bird.
"That's… the most beautiful thing… you could have given me."