A/N- OKAY- so this is my first fanfic! I've been reading on this site for about four years and I finally decided to go ahead and give it a go! If you really wanna know more about me and my boringness- go ahead and check out my profile.

By the By- this fic is pretty mucy Comic verse, but all those movie lovers- no worries, I'm using a fair bit of the movie verse in this too, you won't be lost :D

***PLEASE READ*** I'm using the death scene from the comic and in that scene, V asks Evey to give him a Viking Funeral- this is important! However, for those comic fans, I'm rearranging the order of things. She gets' V's body ready BEFORE she goes out and does her little speech and fumbles over who V is.

And of course- it's a V lives fic- what else?

He was dead.

V was dead.

She couldn't save him...

Evey was numb.

"...Give me a Viking Funeral..."

Arms weak with sorrow, Evey held his still very warm body closer; Eyes unblinking, she gazed at his Guy Fawks personage, silently praying for him to speak again. She still needed him to tell her how, make her understand...but most of all she needed him.

"The Victoria line is blocked..."

Gripping tightly she lowered her face to his ever smiling...mocking visage.

"...a Viking Funeral..."

Taking in a sobbing, unsteady breath, Evey finally lowered his body down off of her lap. With strange curiosity she touched the blood staining her shirt and pants. This was him. She was covered in his essence...his life. Morbidly, she brought her fingers up to her bright blue eyes. Staring at them she brought them closer, and kissed the bloody mark. She could never kiss his lips...but she could at least kiss him. Slowly, Evey gripped her hand so tightly, small crescent shaped cuts began to appear in her palm. One...two drops of her blood dropped, spotting the mask.

She would keep these clothes. Always.

Viking funerals...she had read about them once but she didn't know what to do...The train? Had he wanted to be sent off in the train- the explosives his fire? 'Yes,' she thought, for what else could he want- what better way to leave the world? With every intention to put V on the train- sending him off in his final blaze, she moved with purpose towards the medical supplies room he had shown her near the beginning of her stay.

Stopping in front of the white door- the only completely pure, sickly looking white door in the building- Evey couldn't help but remember her first visit here. "Heaven forbid my dearest Evey- but if you should ever come to harm and I am unable to help you myself- everything you would ever need is here..." Touching the door she smiled, remembering a quote he often used fondly, and repeated it sadly as she clicked it open, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans..."

He was right of course- in both aspects.

Taking a step into the room, she let out a whoosh of air. Everything she could ever need was here. Bandages, ointments, strange herbal concoctions, manuals on various levels of understanding, gaze, plaster, bowls...and a stretcher. Looking around the sterile, bland room, Evey tried to avoid looking at the bright orange piece of equipment sitting in the corner. However, it was nearly the 5th...and she couldn't disappoint him...couldn't betray him again. Thus, the angry woman, filled with greif, filled with self-loathing and blame strode forward and yanked the item off the wall. Closing her eyes tightly she let her knuckles turn white and tried to squeeze the tears into submission as her forehead slowly fell to rest on the vertical thin pale mattress.

"Oh V..." she choked out.

Turning after a allowing a few seconds of weakness, Evey placed the item on the floor and lifted it so she could push it along easily. Intent on making it out the door without glancing at a single item, she suddenly stopped. Sitting on a shelf, all by itself was a book in bright red letters titled "VIKING FUNERALS".

"Bastard...you knew..." there was disbelief in her words as she spoke, but then, with renewed energy and fire blazing in her watery eyes she cried out, "YOU KNEW!"

Unable to hold in her pain, and needing to take it out somehow, Evey shouted at the book, blaming it for V's murder- hating it for existing- and then- just as she was about to knock the horrid literature out of existence- she stopped. Inches from the book, Evey's hand trembled, but instead of knocking it, her eyes softened as she picked it up gingerly and carried it out with her- pulling the squeaking stretcher behind.

Glad for the noise being emitted by the blasted piece of machinery behind her, Evey went on auto. It was too quiet without him. There was no loving praise, or even calm correction. There was no TV set playing The Count of Monte Cristo, or blade striking the metal dummy in the next room. Worst of all though, there was no music and no firm arms holding her gently speaking the unspoken.

Shaking her head, Evey wiped those thoughts away. She couldn't waste any more time and she had been selfish enough. Therefore, when she reached V's body, she didn't looking loving at his face, and didn't think anymore of what could have been. Instead she lowered the stretcher, rolled V, as carefully as possible, onto it, and lifted it up again. He would get his funeral...it was the least she could do.

Standing in front of the train Evey opened the book and read the intro. "There are four main ways a person may receive a 'Viking' Funeral," it read. The book went on to list them: Burial at Sea, Open Air Cremation, Scattering at Sea, and lastly Fireworks. The Open Air Cremation page seemed to have been flipped through and subtly marked for her inspection- as if his own word may not have been enough or she needed encouragement. However, instead of flipping there, Evey paused and then made a near violent b- line for page 38- Fireworks.

It wasn't going to be easy, but the book was... eerily helpful in explaining the process. V said he wanted a Viking Funeral, and although he may have left her an easy way to grant his wishes, she had a better idea. V wouldn't leave this world in a train. She would give him so much more than that. He would go out in blaze a Blaze of Glory.

Earring the top corner- a peeve of V's she hopped he could forgive her for- Evey hurriedly placed the book in V's gloved hands and pushed the man back to his domain. She would give him something more- not something he had set up for her convenience , but something she had put together. It would be something she could do for him without him walking her through ever step. Thus, with the idea firmly placed in her head, Evey pushed the stretcher into his room. It had felt right and private... and V deserved that if nothing else at the moment. Glancing at the clock, she frowned, but moved to stand in front of the still body.

Bending down slowly, Evey kissed the cold metal lips with a whispered, "I love you V... I always will and I promise...I'll make you proud...and I'll give you the best funeral- Viking Funeral- possible."

Reaching out a hand towards the mask, Evey thought hard. 'He said I had to know who was behind the mask...'

Grasping the side firmly in her hand, Evey let a single tear drop, letting it land on V's cheek. 'How can I ever do it? He said I couldn't see his real face! But...how can I know "who's face lies behind the mask"?'

Going over several different scenarios in her mind, Evey saw countless faces. None of them worked. None of them were V. Passingly she almost thought it was her father again, but quickly shook that idea out. V couldn't be her father- her father was dead... And her father didn't love her like V loved her... and she didn't love V like her father. No this man wasn't her father...and she didn't want him to be- never again... But then who was V?

Taking her eyes off the masked man for a moment, Evey allowed herself to look at V's room. She had tried not to invade his space, for he loved his privacy, but now it seemed like she had to. She saw books- hundreds of them, a bed with soft plush gray comforter, a night stand- normal things. However, too soon her eyes reached the mirror. Now she knew. Yes, she knew who V was.

Crossing the floor with a slight staggering limp from standing in place too long, Evey touched the extra wig on the stand with her finger tips, admiring the texture. Then, slowly she picked up the mask, looked into the mirror, and Smiled.

Staggering back into the Shadow Gallery, with a new air in her heart, Evey immediately ran to V's room. He had to know. She did it, the people were up and fighting for themselves. The train had gone off to Parliament (yes I used the Parliament destination simply because I felt it was a bit cooler and more symbolic.) Fighting for each other. With each step, she shed a piece of cover, First the cloak, leaving it in the hall. Then the hat, which had flown off a few steps later. Each glove followed, and the boots she paused only for a second to discard. However, only when she reached his room did she remove her mask- his mask...V's mask. Without glancing at the figure, still on the stretcher, Evey placed the wig and mask on the stand. She had a feeling V would be needed again...and she could do that- if only for him.

She hadn't felt right being V in front of him- not yet. That's why she had disrobed so furiously because it still didn't feel right. Therefore, now that she was Evey- just Evey, she turned slowly to glance at his body- ready to say goodbye- and nearly fainted.

'No, it's just a trick of the light...' Yet, after taking a few steps forward, there could be no doupt, V's chest was moving... he was Breathing!'