Author's Note: Some of you may say that Evey, V, and Dominic are a bit out of character in this scene. In fact, I worried at first that I wasn't keeping everybody in character…then I realized that in some strange way I was.
As you read on, keep the following in mind, please. In the graphic novel, which is what this movie is based off of, Evey is a simpering sixteen-year-old who can barely fend for herself. While I didn't want to make her entirely helpless, I did want to add a bit of her original character and mix it with the way Natalie Portman portrays Evey. So while Evey is a strong girl, do remember, she is young, and she's gone through a lot these past couple of days. She's allowed to break down once in awhile!
V…in the movie and the novel he's a selfish man, let's be honest. He is concerned with his own agenda, liberating the people of England just happens to be a side bonus. Well, maybe that's not entirely true…but he DOES have his own plans and he is a bit self-centered. So while he may seem a bit of a jerk in these chapters, do recall that he is cruel (more so in Alan Moore's version than the movie version) and he is capable of being a real pain in the arse.
Dominic…okay Dominic has completely turned into comic relief. I made him more important this way, we're actually paying attention to him! And if you're the type who doesn't like humor, than…you're not a person I want reading my fanfic. So…go away!
And, as always…Thanks for the reviews! I'm a greedy little sucker, I love 'em!
URGENT MESSAGE: I realize I've made a TERRIBLE mistake. Dominic is the name of Finch's partner, not Dennis! Dennis is the name of the man who helps the pervert Lilliman…I'm so sorry for the mix-up…I'm going to go back and fix all errors. Ahh! so embarrassed I really am a V for Vendetta fan, I swear!
Sprinting through the darkness, Evey tore blindly through narrow alleyways and unfamiliar streets. She didn't bother to read any signs, or take note of where she was headed.
Adrenaline coupled with her basic instincts fueled her. Her brain was numb and couldn't process anything; it simply ordered her to run. Evey was only too willing to comply with that command.
Perhaps she had been running for miles, or maybe it was only a few feet. Her concept of time and space had faded. It was as if she were trapped in some nightmare, where the road stretched on forever, and she was never going to reach a destination. Sirens were blaring in the distance, and Evey swore she could hear gunshots. What was real and what existed only in her imagination she could no longer tell. The only thing she did know was that she had to keep moving.
As she continued fleeing she noticed that the gunfire she thought she had heard wasn't in her head; in fact it was getting louder. Even with her presently diminished logic and reasoning skills, her heightened senses picked up on where the firing was occurring. She wasn't the one being shot at; the bullets were coming from someplace up ahead. There were voices overflowing with authoritative power, shouting above the din. Evey realized that they were most likely Fingerman. Panicking, she stopped running and ducked down behind a garbage dumpster.
She wanted to cry in frustration. There were only two possible ways for her to go. Straight ahead—eventually leading her into a crowd of police and a potentially dangerous situation—or turning around and heading back to the very place she was fleeing. Neither choice seemed viable or wise, so Evey remained crouched and attempted to figure out her next possible course of action. She wracked her brain, trying to calm herself enough to think rationally. But she had no such chance, because was interrupted by the sound of pounding feet, coming closer and closer towards her.
Her first inclination was to cower against the brick wall, in hopes that whoever was darting past would not see her. Yet, curiosity took hold of her, and she peeked around the giant metal dumpster. When she saw the rapidly approaching figure she wasn't sure whether she should laugh or scream. The smiling masked man from the other night, V, was headed straight for her.
He was moving rather quickly, occasionally turning to look behind him, no doubt to see if he was being pursued. In his left hand he gripped a bag—she guessed it was full of money—and in his right was a gun. Ordinarily Evey would have been intimidated by such a weapon, but the past two nights had changed her. She had just attempted to bash in a man's skull—whether or not she succeeded in that endeavor, she didn't care to know—had survived being robbed, and had nearly been attacked by Fingermen, all within 48 hours. Violence was no longer a completely foreign concept to the young woman.
Maybe she felt as though she owed this man for saving her from being raped. Or, perhaps she felt an odd connection to him, as they were both fleeing for their lives. Whatever motivated her, she did not ever learn. Before she realized what she was doing, she had stood up, grabbed the dark figure, and pulled him down to the ground with her. He wasn't particularly large, so it wasn't difficult to drag him back into the shadows, and he didn't struggle or attempt to break away from his captor. Evey could feel him stiffen against her, ready to attack if he thought he was in any danger.
The pair were completely concealed in their hiding place; even so Evey ducked her face in the folds of the man's black cape and kept her arms around his midsection. She did her best not to tremble against him as she heard a group rapidly coming closer to their hiding spot. But the troupe of what she assumed to be police ran right past them, never bothering to inspect the alleyway.
Evey waited for a good minute before relaxing her grip on the man's waist. Her arms slackened and she breathed a huge sigh of relief. V didn't move right away. He simply remained motionless in front of her, unsure as to what to do. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he got to his feet, never once turning to face Evey.
"Aren't you going to at least say thank you?" Evey burst out, unable to hide her frustration at his lack of gratitude. She nearly shook from anger, and her fists clenched into tight balls at her sides.
It had been too dark in the concealed space to see who his rescuer of sorts had been—but the voice gave her away. He turned, slowly, as if expecting this all to be some sort of dream that he would wake up from at any moment.
"You?" The simple question spoke volumes. Within that syllable lied a mixture of conflicting emotions and feelings. There was surprise, a palpable sense of disbelief, and possibly a hint of anger.
"Yes, it's me," Evey confirmed, her voice rising in annoyance. "The least you could do is thank me for saving your life."
V said nothing. He may have nodded—Evey wasn't sure—and then he turned away.
"Where are you going!" She shouted, indignant. He had begun to head in the opposite direction, not even checking to see if she was alright.
"I am returning to my home, Evey, and I highly suggest that you do the same."
"Home? I can't go home! I don't even know where I am!" She sounded like an irritated child, about to throw a temper tantrum. V sighed in obvious exasperation.
"May I inquire as to why you are even out this late, anyway?"
"Someone came into the store…two actually…I got scared…" Evey offered no further explanation, but V had begun to piece her story together. He turned sharply and faced her. Like a distrustful parent interrogating an unruly teenager, V posed a question that left no room for debate.
"Did you kill anyone?"
"I…I don't know…" Evey admitted hopelessly. Suddenly the magnitude of what she'd done to the stranger in the store sunk in. Who had she attacked? Was it really a criminal? Had she murdered someone?
"Evey, I either suggest you turn yourself in and claim paranoia, or else find a place to hide. Whatever you decide, do it quickly…because I suspect whomever you attacked was a police officer."
At that, Evey gasped. Her knees shook and she very nearly collapsed onto the pavement below her.
"No…it can't be…"
"They were probably coming to ask you a few questions," V rationalized in a voice of painful nonchalance, "that or they had come to arrest you. In which case, your fate is already sealed."
At the word 'arrest' Evey felt tears burning in her eyes. She tried to wipe them away, but soon she was quietly sobbing.
"T-they're g-gonna kill me." She started to cry even harder, reminding V that she was truly just a child in many ways. He even felt a twinge of pity.
"Evey," he came close to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "just go to the police and tell them what happened," he quietly insisted. "I'm sure everything will be taken into consideration."
Evey rubbed her eyes with her hands and sniffled a bit. Just as V was about to leave her, she raised her head up.
"Take me with you," she pleaded, her eyes wide and hopeful. "I won't get in your way I swear."
"No," came the flat response. He removed his hand and started to turn away. But Evey grabbed his shoulder and tugged.
"I saved you!" She screeched. "If it wasn't for me you'd be caught or dead or worse. I have nowhere else to go," she mumbled hopelessly. "Please…I won't get in the way," she repeated.
Conflicted, V gazed down the alleyway. He could pull away from her feeble grip—he could walk away and never look back. If he ran, she'd never be able catch up to him. But something about her pathetic situation pulled at his heartstrings, what little he had. She had a point—she did prevent him from being in a potentially threatening situation. And while he knew he wouldn't have been in too much danger of being caught, she had made escaping a much easier process.
He turned again to face her and shrugged. "As you wish."
And saying that he brought two of his fingers behind her head, jabbing a sensitive pressure point, and causing her to black out. Before she fell he caught her in his arms, and began to briskly walk out of the alley.
"What kind of person attacks a cop with a can of soup?" Dominic pondered aloud. His bandaged partner glared at him. Not only was he afflicted with a massive headache, but now he was being forced to speak with Chancellor Sutler this afternoon—along with the rest of the major Party members, about the current fiasco with the masked man. Apparently last night he had killed three more Fingermen, and had stolen over seven thousand euros from a bank vault. Things were getting serious, and this man had to be caught.
"I mean, what's next, frozen peas?"
"Dominic, I don't think our main concern is what food item I'll be hit with next," reprimanded Finch.
"Alright, but I'm just saying…gotta think about the next logical step…"
Finch shook his head and reached into his drawer from some aspirin. Between being attacked by clerks—brandishing gallon tubs of soup—and dealing with an eccentric, panty stealing partner, he was positive that he was a candidate for early retirement. He grimaced at the wall clock, in a few hours he would have to speak with Sutler and the other prominent Party members of England. And so far all he could offer them was that they had some lunatic in a Guy Fawkes mask who seemed to enjoy robbing banks and had acquired an accomplice overnight. Though, Finch was convinced that the girl, Evey Hammond, hadn't intended to work alongside this criminal. In fact, he was convinced that she hadn't meant to attack him. He assumed that she had been frightened by the sudden intrusion at such a late hour, especially because they had both been adorned in black overcoats with their faces shielded away from her. She had simply reacted out of blind panic.
Unfortunately for her, video surveillance recovered from an alley in close proximity to where the robbery occurred revealed that had helped Evey hide the criminal from police. As if that weren't bad enough, the recording had also shown that the girl had apparently argued with the man for some time, and was then knocked out and carried away by him. If that didn't at least land her in jail, Finch would have eaten his own shoe.
"Why do you think she hit you, anyway?"
"She was scared."
"Of what? We hadn't even done anything."
"Think about it Dominic, you're alone in a store, it's dark outside. You've been robbed the night before, you're scared outta your wits. Then, the following night two strangers barge in. Can't see their faces, and all their wearing is long, black coats…how would you react?"
"Sounds exactly like a porno I rented the other night."
"Idiot," Finch muttered before returning his full attention to his computer.
When Evey awoke in an unfamiliar place, her first inclination was to panic. She sat up in the strange, yet extremely comfortable bed and gave a cursory inspection to her surroundings. Around her were piles of books—mountains actually. They rose far above her head, and looked as though they could topple and bury her forever at any moment. Taking great care not to knock into any of them, she slid off of the plush mattress. Her bare feet connected with cold stone and she shivered a bit.
How long have I been asleep?
All she could recall was being knocked out by V. Now she understood why; he hadn't wanted her to see where they were going. Or maybe he hadn't wanted her to slow him down. Whatever the reason, she wasn't too inclined to complain, he had given into her request after all. And it would do no good to upset her fairly unwilling host by mentioning one questionable act.
I have a place to now, a safe place…even though it's with a criminal it's better than being in jail.
Deciding to explore a bit, she exited the room and found herself standing in a larger room with high, arched ceilings. Contained within the room was a plethora of items, the likes of which Evey had never seen before. There were paintings, sculptures, tapestries, and still more books. She passed a perfectly polished piano, and had to battle the urge to not touch the keys.
Just as she was about to pass out of the circular room she noticed a strange box shoved to the wall's side. It was bright and emanated a soft, pinkish light, and Evey couldn't help but get closer. She was fascinated; the box came up to below her chest, and had glass paneling so she could peer into the machine's insides. Contained within it were various names of songs, and they were labeled with a combination of letters and numbers. It was then that she observed that in front of the bizarre box were a set of buttons that corresponded to these labels.
She tentatively reached a finger outwards, prepared to randomly push some to see if music would indeed play. But before she was able to, she was startled by a noise coming from behind her.
Whipping around quickly, like a guilty child caught in an act of mischief, Evey came face to face with V, and his permanently grinning face.
"You scared me," she remarked, pressing her hand to her chest and catching her breath. Staring at the smiling mask she found herself wondering what sort of expression was upon V's face at this time. Was he amused by her reaction? Was he annoyed because she was touching the strange contraption?
"I see you've found my jukebox," he offered as a reply. Stepping towards her, he proceeded to press a larger button, away from the marked ones. Each time the button was pressed, the song choices changed—Evey tried not to reveal her fascination. He stopped after a few pushes, and indicated one of the songs.
"That one happens to be my favorite."
"Cry me a River?" Evey asked, peering through the glass paneling. Before she even allowed V to respond she posed another question, "Where did you get all of this stuff?"
"Oh…here and there…" The evasive answer aroused her suspicions.
"Did you steal it?"
"Would it surprise you if I answered in the affirmative?"
V's casual shrug and air of utter nonchalance infuriated her. She crossed her arms and frowned. "Why can't you just tell the truth? Is that really so difficult?"
"'The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.' I assume you've never heard of Oscar Wilde?"
"No, I haven't." Evey assured him, the irritation still present in her tone, "is he a friend of yours?"
Sighing V shook his head, as if to tell her to disregard his previous question.
"If you're hungry I have some food, I suppose you'll be able to find something suitable to your tastes."
Evey nodded and allowed V to lead the way. The kitchen he had was amazing; full of more instruments than she had ever seen. And when he opened the refrigerator, Evey nearly gasped. Never before had she seen so much food. One person could live off of the refrigerator's contents for months.
"Anything in particular you prefer?"
A bit taken aback by the question Evey fumbled and stuttered for a few moments. Taking note of this, V cleared his throat and made an offer.
"If you don't mind my presumption, you seem a bit undecided. May I allow this opportunity to show off my culinary skills?"
Dumbfounded—and still in awe at all the choices she had been given—she simply nodded.
"Ah, excellent," V clapped his hands in restrained glee and motioned towards the small table that sat in a lonely corner. "Have a seat, mademoiselle, your chef will prepare something exquisite beyond your wildest fantasies."
She made her way to the wooden table, her eyes never leaving the now exuberant man. He tied a pink apron around his waist and then searched through a drawer, pulling out to equally pink oven mitts. The inquiry burst out of Evey's mouth before she realized what she was saying.
"V…are you gay?"
