Drabble: They're All Gone
Rating: G
Mostly comicverse/sort of movieverse
Disclaimer: V4V belongs to Moore, Lloyd, and WB
V thinks about the women in his life.
VVVVV
They've all left me, every last one, except for you. It seems some kind of unbreakable pattern that they should leave. A natural order, the way things are intended to be.
What other explanation is there? Not coincidence. You know me well enough to know I put no stock in randomness. The word "random" suggests isolation, influenced by and influencing nothing. But we know that isn't true, don't we? Nothing exists alone. Everything that happens, has happened, will happen, affects and is affected by a dozen, a hundred, a million other things, everything that is and was and will be. It is all connected. And most of the time, I can see how. It is a gift, I suppose. It has let me do more than should have been possible. It has helped me change the world.
But my knowledge of the grand pattern is not complete. Oh, they all think it is, and that's part of the illusion. It can only help me to be thought of as all-seeing. They assume that wherever they are, I have already been, and in most cases they're correct. But they say that every great master has a puzzle he can't solve. I have several.
I want to know why, and I'm afraid to know why. Why everyone who meant anything to me has been snatched away. No, that's not true. Valerie was not snatched away from me. I never had her. She was gone before I even read her letter. It was her ghost that spoke to me and raised me from the dead, not her lips or her hand. I never had her.
And Justice? She walked away from me under her own power. Not uninfluenced, but by her own choice nonetheless. To him. Walked right into his arms, the one who had hurt her so badly. I can't imagine what kind of horrid sickness has seized her. She must be ill, to be so loyal to such a despicable abuser.
And then, Evey. Sweet Eve. God help me, I still love her. Not as I love Valerie, and not as I used to love Justice, not at all. It was different, but in the end it makes no difference. As they left me, so did she. In the end I have no one to blame but myself. I was the one who helped her discover her wings, who am I to deny her flight? I was the one who helped her open the door to her cage, and I have no right to weep because she chose to walk out. And that was our whole point, wasn't it? To teach her to reject her cage, because it could not hold her unless she allowed it to hold her. And my love is only another cage. I know this better than anyone, except you, perhaps. But it does not ease pain to know that things are as they should be. Not at all.
They're all gone but you, my sweet Anarchy. I love you, and I need you. Please don't leave me.
