A/N: Sorry for the delay. Enjoy the story. I'll try to be a better person in the future...but no promises...
"…don't you understand what you've done? You've murdered one of the most important people in the government. You're an armed and dangerous criminal, V. You…you could have power and…and influence! Don't you see…you're practically…I don't know…a celebrity or something…" Evey continued her speech as she paced in front of the couch the V had sunk into. While the young woman continued to ramble, V attempted to keep his focus on the book he was holding. It had been nearly ten minutes and he had yet to turn the page.
"…maybe, oh I don't know…you could threaten people, make them listen…yeah…listen…"
A slight exhalation of air went unnoticed by Evey; and V did his best to remain calm. The chattering that this girl was capable of! Her words kept getting mixed up and mashed together. She struggled to take the thoughts that seemed so clear in her mind, and make them into understandable sentences.
"…they'd obey you for sure….you could…well, you could really change the world with this, you know…"
The gloved hand grasped the book's spine a bit tighter. What the hell was she going on about now? Clenching his jaw and trying to keep his voice even, he attempted to silence the tirade in a polite, restrained fashion.
"What, exactly, are you hoping to do, Evey? Take every political figure as a hostage? Threaten the world until things are they way you want them? Expect to eliminate corruption, greed, and a controlling government…so that all the people oppressed by these tyrannies can be free?"
Taken aback—whether it was because she was startled to hear V's voice after its absence for quite some time, or because she was offended by the rebuke—Evey frowned at the ground, puzzled.
"I…I guess I…"
"You guess? Evey, matters such as these cannot rely on guesses and uncertainties. They require planning and preparation. No room for error."
"But V, don't you see, you've--"
"Shot one of the most influential men affiliated with the government? Yes, Evey, I am aware. You've only reminded me a few dozen times."
The sarcasm annoyed Evey. In her mind, the two of them had reached a point of no return. V, whether he had meant to or not, had made a statement by shooting Lewis Prothero. He had lifted his hands up in the air, and in a display of flagrant rebelliousness had delivered two bold middle fingers to Chancellor Sutler. And it hadn't gone unnoticed. News reports revolved around the death of Prothero, all explaining that the hardworking broadcaster had succumbed to a heart attack as he was purchasing some groceries. And while most people were more than happy to swallow the lies being force fed to them, Evey knew some people had to be asking questions. Rumors were forming, because every day the story seemed to be repeated, as if to brainwash all the disbelievers. The whole situation made Evey's stomach turn with excitement. She had been a part of something that was important, something her parents would have been proud of.
Her parents…people she had not thought about in quite some time. It was a touchy subject for her, one she was more than willing to tuck away into the corner of her mind and nearly forget about completely. Mostly because up until this point she had been a sheep, a follower, something her parents would have despised. And now, she had the chance to change that. To live out their legacy, in a way. She wasn't particularly brave, nor was she entirely convinced that she was capable of risking her life for the sake of destroying a cruel, unyielding government, but she would be damned if she didn't try.
"V, you have to do this. You can't ignore what you did. It's not just going to go away."
Patiently, as if he were trying to explain a delicate, complex situation to a small child, V insisted, "Everything will go away given enough time, Evey. Wait a few weeks, and this entire situation will be forgotten."
"What about your mask? They'll recognize you for sure."
"There are other masks to wear," he countered.
"Why do you wear that mask, V?"
"Why don't you wear a mask, Evey?"
"Stop it, that isn't funny." Evey placed her hands on her hips, and she scowled.
"I never said it was meant to be." That was the last thing V said for the night, before he stood up from the couch, and headed toward his own room.
"I will not tolerate this any longer. I want answers, and I want them NOW!" Sutler's voice seemed to echo through the silent, dark room where Finch, Creedy, and the other prominent Party members had been assembled. He could feel every eye flicking towards him. What the hell did they expect him to do? Leap out of his chair and pull the identity and motive behind this terrorist, codenamed V, out of thin air?
"Mr. Finch!" Apparently they did.
"Currently, no new news, Chancellor…the clerk working at the store at the time gave no helpful details, and--"
"That isn't good enough, Mr. Finch." The Party leader seemed to lean in closer, his pockmarked, wrinkled face magnified even more so than usual. His crooked, yellowing teeth gleamed wickedly at Finch. "When I said I wanted answers, I meant it."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, find this madman, catch him, and kill him. And Mr. Creedy!"
"Yes, Chancellor?" To Finch's right, the sneering man leaned forward, an action posessing the illusion of respect and full attention.
"Anyone caught spreading these rumors about the death of Lewis Prothero is to be punished. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, sir."
"Good." And then almost as an afterthought he added, "England Prevails."
"England prevails," came the familiar echo.
The monitor went blank and the group of men were left alone. Instantly the backs of the gathered man slackened, as if a giant pressure had been removed from their shoulder blades. Finch's expression remained hardened even as the sneering face of Creedy loomed closer.
"If I didn't know any better," began the voice that Finch knew would someday sound identical to the devil's when he was whispering into his ear every sin he had committed, "I'd say you were trying to get yourself on Sutler's bad side."
Finch refused to acknowledge the incendiary comments—a verbal confrontation with Creedy would only exacerbate the situation…and his perpetual headache.
"You'd better be careful, Finch. Don't you have some Irish blood in you?"
What his heritage had to do with his current case, Finch had no idea. It took all of his self-control not to reach out and shake the stupid smirk of superiority off of Creedy's face.
"Well, I would start making some arrests," Creedy stood up from his chair, and made to leave, though he turned around and in a low voice completed his sentence, "and I'd start making them fast."
Evey stared at the television, not focusing any attention on it, but simply enjoying the noise and distraction it offered. Reclined upon the couch, she rested her head on an open palm and had her legs curled up and tucked under her. If she wasn't so concerned about the whereabouts of her only companion she could probably have fallen asleep. But V was missing. And he had been missing for nearly twelve hours—which was starting to worry her. Looking for something that would better distract her than the TV's reports of water shortages and possible cures for the latest strain of bird flu, she found a book lying on the coffee table. Not even bothering to read the title, she began a story about a ghost and a gypsy boy falling out of a man's coat. It was a bit too strange for her liking, and V's absence was unsettling.
Standing up, she had held the book between her hands as she timidly called out V's name again and again. Wandering from room to room, many which she had not yet explored, Evey eventually found herself at the entrance to the closed door that she could only assume was V's bedroom. When she called out again, and heard no reply, Evey knocked upon the wood, which was slightly ajar. Even though her taps were light the door pushed open, revealing the insides of her masked captor's room.
A magnificent bed with crimson sheets was shoved to the side, its material unwrinkled, as if it had never been slept upon before. The velvet sheets and the plush looking pillows begged Evey to collapse into them—but she refused the call. Instead, she wandered toward what looked like a dressing room table and mirror, in front of it sat a stiff wooden chair. It occurred to her that this must be where V sat as he tied upon his mask before leaving his room. And, this was also the place where he untied the straps holding it in place, releasing his face from the prison of the grinning plastic.
She couldn't help herself. Mesmerized she inched her way forward, until she found herself sitting in the chair and staring at her reflection. To her right was a faceless sculpture of a head, a hairbrush, and a withering rose. To her left there was a poster attached to the mirror, a faded advertisement for some movie. She turned back to face her reflection, and was surprised at how unfamiliar it seemed. Her face seemed to have aged, her eyes had several dark bags ringing around them, her hair hung in limp, wavy strands. She looked awful and withered—her newfound life of crime had sapped her of life and vitality. But before she had time to fully pity herself she heard a familiar voice.
"Good evening, Lodon,"
Evey gasped. V was home! She pushed the chair back so hard that it fell—she didn't bother righting it. Her basic instinct told her to run, to get out of the room before he found her. And even though all the noise she was creating, and her feet pounding as she sprinted out of the forbidden room would have alerted him to where she had been, her fear pushed her onwards.
But as she found herself steadily approaching the voice's source, she noticed that she was heading right back to her original starting point—the couch and television. Which was odd because that would mean V had somehow apparated into the center of the Shadow Gallery without her hearing him. And while V was capable of stealth, she wasn't sure he could wear his polished black boots and walk on a stone floor without making a sound.
"Allow me first to apologize for this interruption."
What interruption was V talking about? The voice was loud and crystal clear, yet Evey felt as though he wasn't speaking to her. Well, if he wasn't speaking to her, who was he talking to? Had he completely gone crazy?
"Today, as I suppose many if not all of you know, is November the fifth."
Turning the corner, Evey involuntarily gasped when she realized that V was indeed within the room…on a television screen…
"I'm not sure how many of you are aware, that this is actually quite a historic day."
Like a zombie, Evey wandered back to the couch she had been perched upon and collapsed into it, her eyes never leaving V's face. A million questions entered her mind. Where was he broadcasting this from? Was it just some sort of trick?
"But, right now that is of little consequence, and time is rather precious for me, seeing as that there are those who do not wish me to speak."
"I suspect, even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way."
Guns? Evey wrung her hands in front of her in genuine concern. What the hell had V gotten himself into? More importantly, if he was captured, would he give away her location? Would she be caught too, and black-bagged?
"Why? Because words, the power of conversation, the ability to speak to the masses, is a weapon far greater than any one the government could ever construct."
Even though Evey was afraid, she remained attentive to the words V was speaking of. They seemed powerful, even though they were delivered in a low and calm manner. He wasn't like most of the men on TV, who screamed and shouted to get their point across, and still sounded weak.
"But words can only retain so much power, until actions prove them otherwise."
Actions…he couldn't be taking her advice? Addressing the Prothero murder…?
"So, as I pondered what I had done, the previous night, I realize that I my actions are capable of igniting these words, and setting them ablaze with more power than anyone could ever anticipate."
"For you see, last night, though it was not my intention, I set down a path from which there is no return."
No return? Evey rubbed her hands together. He was right, after this speech, he would be hunted until he was dead. The government would make an example of him—to send a message to any other future vigilantes. There was no turning back, now that he had somehow taken over a television station, and broadcast his message of anarchy across London.
"As I robbed what I assumed to be any other convenience store, a civilian refused to comply with me."
V paused on the screen, a twinge of palpable regret popping into what had been an emotionless tone.
"I had no other choice…I shot him…and I later was to learn that this man was Lewis Prothero."
Another pause, as if V were expecting a gasp of complete shock and surprise from his crowd.
"And this one action, I have come to realize, could possibly change the entire course of history, if fueled appropriately."
His hands clasped together in front of his chest, they clenched tightly under the leather gloves. Evey pondered what he meant by changing the course of history.
"Because, if it has not come to your attention, then allow me to suggest, that perhaps there is something very wrong with this country."
V nearly slammed his fist down on the table in front of him, but he restrained himself and only tapped it gently.
"We are persecuted and attacked for being anything other then obedient sheep under Chancellor Adam Sutler's rule."
A twinge of anger bubbled out of his voice, and for some reason, Evey could also feel rage welling up within herself. Why were his words making her react this way?
"I do not blame anyone for initial willingness. When shown the alternative; war, famine, disease, how could anyone pass up the opportunity to be protected and safe…"
He was right, she realized as a shiver went up her spine. This was all true, staring right back at her and the rest of the world, and yet she hadn't fully been able to realize it until now.
"…when the only price was, your freedom."
V's tone subsided, and he was calm again, speaking as if he were delivering the evening news.
"But, England, I ask you, isn't it time we stood against what we know in our deepest and innermost selves to be unfair and unjust?"
"…yes…" Evey whispered quietly.
"Isn't it time we make the government fear us? Instead of the alternative?"
"Yes." She repeated, a bit bolder.
"Whatever you choose to believe, I have begun something that cannot be stopped. Something that I will see through until the end—and I ask you, London, to join me."
Join? What did he mean by join?
"If my words, which were set off by an action, have moved you at all…I ask you…one year from now stand beside me, at the gates of Parliament. And I assure you, we will give them a fifth of November they shall never forget."
The screen blacked out at that point, leaving only a red symbol of a V with a circle around it, and the reflection of a face. Evey screamed when she saw it, and turned quickly, seeing that behind her was V. His gloved hands were clasped in front of him, and his stance was rigid as if in anticipation.
"Sorry, Evey, I didn't mean to frighten you."
As Evey collected her composure, she shook her head. "No, it's alright…did you…?" She trailed off, not exactly sure what her question was in the first place. There were too many things she wanted to ask.
"If you're asking if that was broadcast across the entire nation, than the answer is no, it has not." V stepped over to where the VCR and DVD player sat atop his television. He pushed a button, and the DVD player ejected a small silver disk. It rested neatly in V's gloved palm as he carried it over to Evey. With a swooping gesture, he bowed and presented the disk to her.
"V…what are you doing?" She asked, confused. The shimmering object lay in V's open hand, yet Evey was hesitant to take it.
"I'm presenting you with a choice, Evey."
"A choice?" She repeated, dumbfounded and confused. Feelings that seemed to intensify the more time she spent with V.
"Yes, Evey a choice. Here in my hand is something that will change your life. I guarantee it. Take it, and embark on a journey that you will never forget. Refuse…and remain here, in the Shadow Gallery, while the rest of the world evolves and grows and changes without you knowing a thing about it. It's your decision."
She bit her lip, perplexed beyond any degree she thought possible. Why did everything that escaped the man's masked lips have to be so riddled and confusing? If she took the disk, what sort of journey would that put her on? It was only a disk, and the alternative would be rotting away in the Shadow Gallery…well, if those were her options.
With minimal confidence, Evey reached out and grasp the disk between her fingers. Wordlessly she stared at V as he stood up from his low, sweeping bow.
"Excellent. I'll explain what must be done tomorrow. I suppose you should get some rest." V turned away and began walking away before Evey called out desperately.
"Wait! V…I don't understand." She had begun to follow him, the disk clenched in one hand and the other hand hanging helplessly by her side.
He didn't reply. And that infuriated her. She nearly snapped the disk in half as she tightened her fist, her knuckles turning white.
