Evey sat, waiting, thinking, breathing. What would happen when he came back? Would he come back? Over the months she had had time to come to terms with what had happened to her. No matter how he had done it, he had made her a better person. A smarter person. And she couldn't hate him for that. After all she had been through she couldn't bring herself to hate him at all. But she had gone too far. She had kissed him. She hadn't even been sure that she even liked him let alone... But there were feelings, feelings she hadn't even considered until their lips had met. Feelings that lingered with her now. All she had wanted him to do was stay with her… but why? She couldn't really think of a reason for wanting him back in her life. She could have easily let him walk off to his death but she had acted instead. Evey realised just how heartless that sounded. As much as she hated what he had done to her, she didn't want to see him dead. Something in her wanted him to stay and Evey wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was.

He had told her he would never lie again but how could she know that that in itself was true. She knew that he didn't trust her. She hadn't seen his face, didn't know his name. He couldn't trust her with even his name. He should know her better than that! She had been with him a year now, even if she didn't completely trust him, she could never betray him. He stood for everything she believed in. He was avenging her parents, her brother, Valerie. Valerie would be so proud of him now, for all that he had done. She was proud of him for what he ad done for her country. Even after all that he had put her through, she was proud to know him. To have known him…? She stared at the tunnel remembering the last flutter of his cape disappear. Deep inside, she knew he wasn't coming back.

She glanced at the tube station clock, still running after years of under use. It was just like V to come out to wind a silly old clock. What would life be like without him around? Evey had always known that if she had been caught or found out she could always come back to the gallery and find him. He would always keep her safe, give her food and a place to sleep. What would things be like after he 'met his maker'? He was the only person she had in the whole world. She didn't want to be alone again. She didn't want him to die. What if he came back from the fight wounded? She cursed herself for never taking any interest in medical studies. How did you stop a bullet wound? Would he be able to tell her? But she shouldn't have to rely on him like that. He wanted her to be able to survive by herself, to be strong. That was how he had sculpted her. He had put so much work into making her new, freeing her from herself. She hated to think of his disappointment when after all that torture and labour she turned out to be as weak as ever. Evey found that she was underestimating herself. She wasn't weak. She wasn't as strong as V but she wasn't weak.

What if they got to him before he got to them, what if they came down the tunnel and he tried to fend them off? How many would there be? How many could he stand. Evey imagined him carving his knife into a finger-man's chest, his scream wringing out in the air as they fired their rifles and the bullets pierced his flesh. Suddenly V changed from a warrior into a heap of cape festering on the tube station floor. Oh god…

Silently, without realising, Evey started to cry. He had wanted himself to die, he wouldn't fight. He would just let himself get torn apart. Why had he left? Was she really so bad that he would rather walk to his death than face her? What had she done to deserve his hate in such a way. She shouldn't have kissed him, now he knew that she still couldn't be trusted with her emotions, that all the work he had put into her had been in vane, that she could still feel and touch and love… this was why he hated her. If she hadn't been so stupid he would still be here instead of off facing his death. And what if they didn't stop at him? What if they ambushed him in the tunnels so that he would think that she could still hear him, and he could cry out for her to run because he knew that they would come after her? And she didn't hear him...? what if they were on their way now and she had nothing to defend herself with? Then they both would die and all his work would have been in vane… that poor sweet man. Her silent tears welled into sobs. She had let him go off to die without even a goodbye… not a real one. She could have told him that she loved him but she didn't! She hadn't even known how she felt then and now… now he was all she could think about.

Evey straightened up and realised just how irrational she was being. She dabbed at her tears with her denim sleeve. She should have brought a weapon just in case anything happened. But no, she wasn't smart enough to have thought ahead like that. She was so stupid! She could always run back to the gallery and get something, a kitchen knife or one of his daggers. But what if he came back while she was gone? She hated to think of him suffering, wailing in pain and her not being here to help him. Suddenly a shot rang out and she was on her feet before the sound had cleared the tunnels. She needed a knife.

The pain in Vs sides was seeping back in as his body came out of shock, so excruciating this time that his body shook in places he didn't know he had. It was as if his muscles were trying to crawl away from each other, slowly pulling him apart. His intestines writhed around each other, spurting blood down his legs. V inched his hands off of the dead Creedy's neck. His arms numbed from his fingers to his shoulders. He stood catching his breath. He took a step away from the body and slid his shaking hands up under his tunic, tugging at the straps to his bullet proof vest. He tugged the sheet of metal out from under his shirt and was suddenly relieved by the loss of all that weight. The vest's embosses muscles were now disfigures and drooling with blood, V saw that it somewhat resembled his own torso now. Evey, he thought, he needed his Evey.

Sluggishly, the masked man lumbered down the passage, using his hands along the concrete walls to find his way. "Evey..!" he called weakly and knew right away the she didn't hear him. It was not only his loss of blood but also his months of isolation from her that made his quite weak. He needed her so much…

As Evey returned to the track where the train lay waiting, she heard foot steps coming from around the corner. She backed up against the wall in anticipation of what might come. She could picture Creedy, his lizard smile curling up his face, poised with a gun in his hand ready for the attack. She dripped the knife tight into he fist and then a thought came to mind and she shocked herself in her discovery, she wasn't scared at all. In fact she couldn't wait. His shocked expression lingered on her eyelids. That man that killed her mother and father, that man that tortured the innocent collapsed to the ground with a burst of agony in her mind, her knife sturdy in his flesh. I little smile played on Evey's lips.

The footsteps came faltering closer as she pulled her arm back. Then she heard a moan, a familiar moan, and dropped the blade to the ground. V's muscles stretched and contracted with effort as he forced himself to stop while coming around the corner. The force of him stopping on suddenly caused him to way and his hat fell off his head and rolled off the tube platform. He reached out an arm to steady himself against the wall. Evey wrapped her arms around him as he collapsed to the floor, muttering his name to try and comfort him. His weight pushed them both down to the floor.

"Evey…" he muttered his breath heavy and full of pain. As she pulled her hands from his back she saw a smear of blood on her hand.

"V… V, we have to stop you bleeding.

"Oh please don't…." he interjected, "I'm finished and glad of it…" his sentence ending in a faint intake of air. Evey felt his boy shudder underneath her.

"Don't say that." she replied looking into the black slits of his mask.

"I told you… only truth." he said. Evey couldn't hold in what she wanted to say any longer. She forgot all her inhabitations and said it, not the cheer herself up, not to lose her guilt, not to keep his attention, this was real. She said it and she meant it.

"I love you", Evey said, cradling him further into her arms, "and I'm not going to let you die." With all her strength he hulled the hunk of his body up into her arms and carried him to the bench by the tracks. His breath picked up and down as her feet moved.

Evey realised that she was talking, she heard herself say muttering little calm nothings to him. She sat down next to the bench and huffed out an exhausted breath taking a glance at the clock. There were only three minuets to go. Then she could bring him inside. But how long did he have. Her fingers were buried in the hair of his wig caressing his scalp a little through the fabric, if he had had the energy he would have stopped her. She leaned over to him, comforted by the sight of his chest heaving up and down. She had never been so close to him before, so close she could really smell him. His scent of spices and strange bodily cologne mingled in the air with her perfume. Unwillingly, her body brought her to him and she sank her face against her tunic, soaking him in.

"V?" she muttered. He must be unconscious, she thought. She looked back at the clock. Two minutes. She looked down at V. Her V. She had said it. She had told him. Her hands moved of their own accord and reached over him to poise over his mask. He was unconscious… it was just so easy… but she couldn't. As Evey pulled away her hands she was suddenly aware of another set of feet coming up the station passageway. She looked at the entrance and then down at V. Desperately, she lunged for her knife and then, holding it threateningly in her hand she draped herself over her fallen V. Nothing was going to take him from her. Not now…

Eric Finch came around the corner, armed with a flashlight and a bewildered facial expression. His eyes fell on the protective woman and then on the unconscious terrorist. Apprehension dawned.

"Your Evey Hammond aren't you?"

Evey held the knife so tightly it's engraved CUTCO symbol formed in her palm. "DON'T you come anywhere near me." Finch drew his gun and inclined it towards the body.

"Leave it. Get out of here."

"No." her voice was hard but sweet. The policeman let his gun down a little so that it pointed at her ankles but was still much less threatening.

"Listen. I'm giving you a chance to get out of here", he reasoned, "I could arrest you, easily. Leave it. Go." Evey stood as if she hadn't heard him, her hands in fists, lips in a solid line. He inched away a little and then raised the gun. "I won't do this unless I have to Miss Hammond."

"Then you wont." she replied. Finch took another look down at V's body. Solid, unmoving, dark. Silently he put his gun away.

"Its too late isn't it?" Evey glanced at V, his rising and falling chest and then back at the inspector.

"Yes", she lied. The resonating sound of Big Ben interjected and she got up and walked over to the train. As fast as it had appeared, Finches gun was redrawn.

"Stop! Don't go near that lever!" he came up closer, the gun barrel now a mere foot from her head. He allowed himself a moment to clear his throat. "What are you doing this?"

"Because he was right", she said and every part of her knew it to be true.

"About what?"

"That this country needs more than a building right now, it needs hope." and with that she pulled the lever. It almost escaped her notice that a little red domino fell over as the train set off on its final journey. Evey let herself smile as the music started to play. His music, picking up speed just like the train. Evey closed her eyes and basked in the moment. It was finished, it was done.

V moaned and suddenly the whole world went quiet. Finch fired his gun, Evey threw her blade. It all happened so fast Evey didn't fully realize what had happened until it was too late. The shot rang out in her ears as the blade collided and tore through its victims muscle. Evey looked over at V, lying perfectly still on the bench, sure that he had been hit. She ran to him and glared desperately over his body, looking for a wound. She vaguely noticed a welt in his mask from where the bullet had reverberated. Behind her, Finch collapsed to the ground, spurting blood from his stomach. Evey turned, sure that she had stabbed him in the ankle. In her panic she saw the blade sticking out of his lower shin and him writhing on the floor. Her feet were suddenly rooted into the concrete. The bullet had found him just inches away from his heart, but she didn't have time to worry about him now… did she? The music still hummed away unheard. Evey trembled, she felt faint. But this was no time to pass out, she made her decision.

She once again lifted V's body up into her arms and left, leaving Finch to die on the platform. She would come back for him, if she had time. As she turned the corner she heard as set of footsteps coming up one of the tunnels. Someone would find him. Someone would take care of him. Evey lulled the masked man's frame up the concrete steps, through the door and into the gallery.