Author's note: This is a bit of a longer one. I only read it once over, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes in it.
Later that evening she found herself in the Shadow Gallery. For the first time in almost a year, she was visiting it again. It was so empty and lifeless. All the art in the world couldn't fill his absence.
A thin sheet of dust has settled on all surfaces, it rose from the ground with each step she took. She made her way to the Wurlitzer and played random song hoping to fill the silence with music. Everything was exactly as she left it a year ago. She went to the telly room and settled on the sofa, wondering why she was there. She didn't feel like watching any of his films or read any of his books, but then she saw it: the little red notebook, sitting on the other side of the sofa as if waiting for her.
She hasn't read it yet. On that fateful night she felt she knew everything she needed to know about him. Tonight, it was different. Tonight, she needed to know, she needed to have even the tiniest bit of him.
She picked up the diary, leaving a small indentation where it once sat, and began to read, sifting through the pages with a trembling hand.
*** v ***
'May 23. My first batch of subjects arrived today…and I have to admit that I'm very excited. This could be the dawn of a new age. Nuclear power is meaningless in a world where a virus can kill an entire population and leave its wealth intact.'
*** v ***
What is this? What were they doing? Evey asked herself. She can't be talking about St. Mary's … can she?
*** v ***
'May 27th. Commander Prothero toured the lab with a priest, Father Lilliman…who I was told is here to monitor for Rules and Rights violations. Made me nervous, but afterwards the commander assured me there wouldn't be a problem.'
'June 2nd. I keep wondering if these people knew how they might be helping their country, if they would act any differently. They're so weak and pathetic. They never look you in the eye. I find myself hating them. They don't fight or struggle against death. They just stare at you with weak eyes. They make me want to be sick, physically. They're hardly human.'
*** v ***
It made Evey nauseous. How could someone even think like this about other people? Like they were less than that. Like they were animals to slaughter.
*** v ***
'August the 18th. Of the original four dozen over 75% are now deceased. No controllable pattern has yet emerged. Out of the ten that are now left, I doubt that three will survive the night. One of the survivors, Donald Crane, is in particularly bad condition. He is delirious all the time, and imagines he is in Trenchtown, Jamaica. He has started to develop four extra nipples, and his generative organs have atrophied.'
*** v ***
"Dear God … " Evey whispered under her breath. Her hands have started to shake. They were experimenting on them … So many people dead. Her mind went to Valerie. She was one of the people they killed.
*** v ***
'August 29th. Only five left now. Two men and three women. We've housed them in individual cubicles at the medical block…'
*** v ***
The next page was ripped. Evey wondered why. Were there names on that page. Did V rip it off to keep his identity hidden? Or did the diary's author want to hide horrors even she couldn't live with?
*** v ***
'September the 18th. There is one case that continues to give me hope. He exhibits none of the immune system pathologies the other subjects developed. I've discovered several cellular anomalies in is blood that I've been unable to categorize. The mutations seem to have triggered the abnormal development of basic kinesthesia and reflexes. The subject said he could no longer remember who he was or where he was from. Whoever he was, he's now the key to our dream and the hope that all of this will not have been in vain.'
*** v ***
That's why he never shared anything with her, not because he liked playing the mysterious vigilante … but because truly he did not know. Her past was not a particularly happy one, but she had something to hold on to, people who she loved and that loved her back. He had none of that. He had been alone for his entire known life.
*** v ***
'September 20th. The crop production has almost doubled. Prothero's letting room five order some garden supplies and he's even given him a patch to grow flowers on. He grows roses. Beautiful roses.
The woman in room one died this morning. The skin on her face and neck was like polythene.'
' September 29th. Prothero's on my back about what five did with the ammonia-based fertiliser that he ordered. It's arranged in piles around his cell. It makes a kind of geometric shape. He sits motionless for hours in the centre of it. His cubicle is covered with so much junk. The ammonia smells terrible and there's a sort of swimming pool smell too. Lord knows where that comes from.
I'm sure that in his mind all this makes perfect sense. I'm sure of it."
"November the 5th. It started last night, around midnight. The first explosions tore open the entire medical section. In the centre of the camp, everything was on fire. While we were trying to work out what was going on, the ovens exploded. I ran, but everyone was running, and all in different directions. All my work gone. I was trying to understand how it could've happened when I saw him.
I couldn't have known…the ammonia. The grease solvent and all the other stuff. He'd been making things with them. Mustard gas and napalm.
He looked at me. As if I were an insect. Oh, God. As if I were something mounted on a slide. He looked at me.
He's gone. The camp is being closed. Nobody is talking about it. Nobody knows where he's gone.'
*** v ***
By the time she finished reading she was shaking with rage. It made her sick. The torture she endured at V's hands was nothing compared to what they've done to those people. To what they've done to him … they experimented on him, they broke him in every way possible.
But somehow, he lived, and he rose in flames. And she could see the genius in him, making them believe he was crazy, just enough so they would let their guard down, just enough that they would never suspect what he was really doing in his cell.
She felt a sense of pride and adoration rising in her. He outsmarted all of them. Her V. Her brilliant V. Her … beloved V…
Because she knew now … that she did in fact love him. And it never hurt her more. It hurt because she knew she could never tell him. He was gone forever. She could scream it to this unforgivable emptiness left in his absence, but he would never hear it. It was too late … she was too late.
She felt void.
She didn't know how to fill it, if it was even possible to do so, or if she really wanted to. But she would try, she promised herself. She would at least try.
*** VEV ***
"Evey, welcome! Come on in." Eric said as he opened the door of his apartment.
"Hey Eric.", Evey greeted. "Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong." he assured her.
"Quite the contrary.", another voice chipped in the conversation.
Evey's eyes grew with surprise and a big smile spread on her lips.
"Gordon? Oh my God … you're alive." she said and jumped in his arms. Gordon laughed and hugged her back.
"Oh, Evey. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you sooner."
"But…how?" she asked as she released him.
"V saved me.", he offered.
"He told me they've executed you."
"I asked him not to tell anyone. I'm glad he kept his word."
"Let's go in. Take a seat and I'll put on a kettle." Eric nudged them. He gave them some space; they had a lot to talk about and he was tired.
Evey and Gordon went to the living room and got seated on the sofa.
"So how … Why? Tell me everything." Evey urged him.
"Well … he got me right before they put me in the truck that was supposed to transport me to the detention center. He was dressed as one of them. They never saw it coming. I don't even think they noticed I was gone until I was long gone. I didn't know it was him until he spoke. I was quite confused I have to add, I didn't understand why take the risk just to save me. But he came to me afterwards and gave me this…" he said and proceeded to take a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his coat.
It was the missing page from Diana's diary. She was right: it was a list of names. The 5 people that were the last to survive. Three women and two men. But her attention was drawn to the end of the list: 3. Raj Patel, 4. Valerie Page … it was her, Valerie, the woman that saved her life, that meant that … 5. William Deitrich. No … no way …
"Gordon?", she said with a shaky voice. She could feel her breath getting shallow. "What is this?"
"He was my brother."
It took a minute for Evey to register what Gordon said.
"I started to suspect it that morning when you were at my place, but I thought it couldn't possibly be true. He was taken 20 years ago. I was certain they killed him. He was an activist after all. So, I pushed the thought aside and joked about it, as I usually do with things that matter." Gordon smiled.
"Yeah, this joking almost got you killed." Evey chastised him.
"Indeed." he agreed "But I've never felt freer."
"Did he remember you?"
"No …" he replied, and sadness tinged his voice. "He remembered snippets of his life, here and there, like the egg in the basket, but never faces, and never full memories. He couldn't even remember his name. It's lucky he found this when he did, otherwise we would both be dead now." he said gesturing towards the piece of paper in Evey's hands.
"So, that's how he found me. How he knew I was with you. I always wondered…"
"Yes. He was coming to see me the night Creedy and his men came. When I realized who he was I told him about you. I was so worried they might get to you before he did."
"Thank you. He got to me." she smiled, she wasn't going to tell Gordon, or anyone else for that matter, what V did. He wouldn't understand. She didn't either at first, she hated him for it. But the more time passed the more she understood what he did for her. The gift he gave her.
"How was he then? Before they took him, I mean.", she asked.
"Fiery … passionate, with a flair for the dramatic.", he laughed, "I guess some of that remained. But I couldn't recognize anything else other than that in him … I suppose whatever they did, stripped him bare of all that he was before."
"What they've done to him was the worst they could do to a human being." Eric said as he came back to the room with a tray of teacups. He placed the tray on the table in front of them and took a seat on one of the armchairs nearby.
"Yes…" Evey said and looked down at the piece of paper in her hands, the memory of last night still fresh in her mind.
"You're different, Evey … since the last time I saw you." Gordon said. He noticed there was a fierceness in her eyes that wasn't there before. She wasn't the same scared young woman that sought his help.
"Well … he had quite an impact …" she smiled.
Then he noticed the sadness that hid behind that smile and his heart sunk. She was in love with V. He had no idea how, when he saw her last she was running away from him. Something made her change her mind to such degree, and he was sure she will not tell any of them what it was.
They exchanged stories for the rest of the evening, recounting what they've been up to since the Revolution. Gordon was now happily engaged with, quotes, 'a dashing surgeon from York' and they were living outside London in a modest countryside house. And Evey and Finch gave him a thorough update of their activity in cleaning the last of Norsefire.
Their meeting ended on a lighter note. Evey was having trouble ending it but she was tired, having spent the last night reading Delia's diary.
"I have to go now." she said as she sat up.
"Evey … it was delightful seeing you again. I'm looking forward to seeing you more often in the future.", Gordon said and then kissed her hand.
"I'd love that.", she smiled and hugged him. She gathered her things and then went to the door followed by the two men. Eric opened the door for her, they said their goodbyes and she left. The two men were left staring at the door in her wake.
"Good God, I hate keeping it from her." Gordon said in a sad voice.
"You and I both." Eric agreed.
"I wish we could tell her … she's so sad."
"I know … but this isn't a fairy-tale. He won't wake up with a kiss. And if he doesn't wake up … then what do we do with her?"
Gordon pursed his lips then sighed …
"Yes…yes. You're right. But I do hope, for her sake, that he does wake up."
Author's note: I think you already noticed I've changed some dates and added some journal entries form the comic book to this chapter. I think it adds a bit of extra info and makes the story have more sense. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Next chapter is really long and it will probably be the last one, as I don't want to split it.
Hope you enjoyed this one. Comments and feedback are always appreciated, but not necessary. At this point in my life, I just write for the sake of writing. XD