Part 3

V carefully adjusted the last of the controls, making sure that the new sprinkler system was working without a glitch. He wanted to be positive that the roses would be able to survive until Evey was able to care for them again. He knew she would love and honor them as much as he did because she understood who they grew for.

'And who knows,' he thought with a tinge of sadness, 'maybe she'll be growing them for me as well.' V sighed and smoothed over a bit more fertilizer, making sure the bag was in plain view so Evey would be able to find it when she needed it.

Finally, everything was ready and in place. V could leave this room and know it would be well taken care of if, or rather when, if he was honest with himself, he died. Everything Evey could possible need was here and he knew she would do a wonderful job. There was only one thing left to do. But he found he was having trouble bringing himself to do it, knowing it would be the last act he would do in the place that had meant so much to him for so long.

V sighed, sitting down beside the box closest to the door, tenderly observing one of the blooms. It was one of the few that was still just a bud, just beginning to blossom. Evey had once said his roses reminded her of a story he had told her, that every flower was somebody's life. She had commented playfully that he cared for them so tenderly, as if every life was precious to him. Then she had laughed sweetly, the sound echoing in the room, filling V with warmth.

"Except," she had said, the laughter dancing in her eyes, "you can't have a rose for everybody here, can you? Just special people." After a while, the smile had slowly left her eyes as she remembered seeing the rose he had given Bishop Lilliman and the others. She knew he was tender with most lives, but would pluck them if they did wrong. She had given V a searching look. "Is there a rose here for Sutler? For Creedy?"

V never answered her.

V's mask fell into his gloved hands as a feeling of loss washed over him. How long since he had seen her last? Had last seen the smile dancing in her eyes like that day? But it didn't matter now anyways. The time had come to finish what he had started so many years before. It was time to complete his vendetta.

Swiftly, V rose to his feet and strode to the main box of roses in the center of the room. A knife suddenly appeared in his hand, and with a flash, he sliced the base of the longest stem. V smoothly sheathed his knife back into it's belt, and picked up the bloom that had been severed from it's roots. Determination filled him to the brim as he glared at the perfect blossom. Yes, there was a rose here for Sutler. And it lay in the palm of his hand.

V carefully tucked the rose into his belt and walked around the room grimly, double checking that everything was in order. He wanted to make sure, for Evey at least, there would always be roses.

Before leaving the room behind forever, V stopped one last time beside the bud in the box by the door. After a moment, he reached a hand out, palming the blossom with the stem between his fingers. There was only enough room for a rose for special people. And this one was the most special of all. He studied it for a moment, how the deep red contrasted with the black of his glove. His fingers journeyed over the petals, remembering how soft they are against his bare skin. Then his hand dropped by his side. A long moment passed, as he just stared at the bud.

"Let her grow," he whispered, his heart heavy with emotion, his vendetta weighing on him like it had never had before. "Let her grow."