Auxilium Angelus

Chapter Two: Vivian Brooke

Summary: Movie-verse. Madam Fate what a marvelous web you weave…Four years have passed since the night parliament, and V, were both destroyed. Evey saves a young girl's life and now currently lives with her in the Shadow Gallery. What happens when Norsefire tries to regain power, and someone returns from the 'grave'?

Lorem iterum! Thank you to all who reviewed; you know who you are ;). For a story I didn't think people would like, I'm pleased with the feedback. So I hope you enjoy this chapter, it is longer I promise. I've made some changes to the first chapter and may repost it. Let's pretend that Evey was so overcome with emotion that her powers of observation may have failed her.

Now, time to learn about our little patient.

Disclaimer: See first chapter

~VESCOR~

Evey moaned as she sat up on the floor. Her memory swirled when she awoke from her slumber, everything spinning into place. Running her hands over her shaven head, she stood and glanced toward the bed. In it the young girl had awoke and was reading a book; seemingly waiting for her to wake up. Evey had a chance to look at the girl fully now, surprised by how much she had missed.

The girl had medium length dark hair that gleamed like ravens feathers in the faint light of the Shadow Gallery. She was barely graced with puberty, faint traces of breast under the loose silk shirt she was clothed in. Her eyes were the deepest blue Evey had seen in a long time, like two rare sapphire gems. However it was the large area of shriveled, burnt skin that attracted her attention. The patch spread under her chin, across her shoulders and down her neck into the clothing. How could she have missed that?

"Good evening, mademoiselle." The girl greeted in a polite tone, looking up from the worn-out, tan pages.

Evey scrunched her brow, That's exactly how… she shook her head to remove the thought.

"Hello, how are you feeling?" She sat beside her, feeling her temperature with her hand.

"I'm fine, still a little shaken from the bitter taste of Mother Nature's wrath." Her arms wrapped around her arms tenderly. "However I suppose I should thank you for saving me from a graver fate."

Evey smiled, "It was the least I could do. I'm sorry I can't take you to a hospital, there are none for a good mile away."

"Hospitals never agreed with me anyhow. The sterility and silence makes it seem like something out of another dimension." The girl touched her cheek, looking around at the large structure of books in the room. "I've never seen so many books before."

"Yes, they all were banned by the government." Evey followed her gaze till it cast down to the page in the girl's grasp. "Lord of the Flies, that's an excellent choice."

The girl looked down to the piece of literature in her hands, "Yes, it was my dad's favorite. He used to read it to me every night." A saddened look crossed her face as a frown joined it. Evey saw it and immediately assumed the worst.

"What's your name?" She asked leaning forward ever so slightly. The girl looked up at her, her blue eyes perking up as a sparkle entered them.

"Call me Vivian, Vivian Brooke."

Evey smiled a genuine smile at the girl. She had no idea where she came from or who her family is. Surely, she mentally sighed, there is no such thing as coincidence.

"It's nice to meet you Vivian. May I ask what you were doing in this part of London?" Evey's tone deepened as the serious issue arose. Vivian adjusted in the sheets uncomfortably, triggering a thick tension to suddenly grow between the two females.

"My family is dead…" Evey almost asked her to repeat her answer, because she spoke it so softly. "Two years ago, my house was set on fire by several drunk and angry fingermen. I was the only one to survive the blaze, since they killed my parents. My older brother escaped while my mother tried to protect me." The snug frame of her arms tightened around her vulnerable body.

"Have you no other place to stay?" A painful shake of the head was her only response.

"I know what it feels like to lose you loved ones to Norsefire." Evey rose to her feet, "You are welcome to stay if you wish."

The gloom vanished as Vivian perked up, "Really? I can stay here?"

"Only if you want to." Evey said those words with apprehension. The last thing she wanted was to force her to stay in the labyrinth of darkness, like the prisoner she once was.

The young girl's eyes peered down to her folded hands, then spoke, "What day is it?"

Evey scrunched her brow, trying to determine the exact date from her memory, "I believe it is November the 5th." The muffled din of the grandfather clock in the telly room rang midnight's arrival.

"Not anymore." Vivian whispered, "I'm 12 years old now, therefore I am somewhat old enough to make my own decisions." Her soft feminine tone rose to its normal level, "I choose to stay."

"Very well, Vivian. Welcome you to your new home, the Shadow Gallery."

~VESCOR~

Ugh, mental note: fire David.

The blonde-haired woman swore in her head as she proceeded down the bleak, tile floors in the corridor. She had admitted the day before she should have woken up earlier, but 5:30 in the morning was a little too much for her.

Jeanette swore in her head as she proceeded down the bleak, tile floors in the corridor. She had admitted the day before she could have woken up earlier, but 5:30 in the morning was a little too much for her.

The blonde-haired woman tried to awaken her half-asleep senses as she moved through the hallway. She banged opened the push double doors to the bustling hospital lobby. People were pushing; yelling her name and rushing around with sick; injured and deranged patients.

With every little issue, she gave an order. That was what her life was really; she ran this small hospital ever since Norsefire came to power. She hated the oppression and was branded a 'rebel'; causing her to vanish into hiding. Now she was one of the heads in the Revolution; as well as the head physician of the Underground, helping others affected and mistreated by Norsefire's brutal regime.

After settling most of the problems, she ran into the creator of her misery; a young teen named David Gists. He was a close friend of hers even though she was much older than him.

"This had better be good, Gists." She strolled into one of the private operation rooms available in the facility.

"Sorry to wake you up doctor Pembrooke, but you won't believe what I discovered." She could tell he was excited; he looked ready to explode with anticipation. He continued, obviously trying to lower his voice and maintain a somewhat professional attitude. "I snuck into the rubble that was once Parliament-"

"I'm a doctor, Gists, not an archeologist. If you are even think about dragging me out on another one of your urban spelunking…"

"I realize that, but I found this." He motioned to the operating table where something close to a human body-shaped lump, that had been covered in a clean medical blanket. Jeanette stared at the silhouette, confusion and curiosity crowding her face at the same time.

"A-a body… in parliament's rubble? David, what have you done? You could have dug up a half-dead MP! What are we supposed to do with it then?"

David released an irritated sigh and walked over to the body. He carefully removed the sheet covering the face, beckoning the lady toward it. When Jeanette was close enough she gasped as she recognized the Guy Fawkes mask.

"Oh my god," she stuttered, "The revolutionary? What would he be doing in the carnage?"

David shrugged, replaced the sheet and turned to face the doctor. "My thought exactly. When I found him he was barely alive, like bordering a conscious and unconscious state."

"Well, I guess that's not important now." She tapped her upper lip, thinking, "He's here now, and we should do our best to see that he remains alive. I think he would have wanted that."

"What do you mean 'we'? I just brought him here-!" David raised his arms in question.

"-And because you did, he's my problem?" She growled, "Look, he has to be kept secret. No one must know he's here. I don't want Norsefire breaking down my door again." Dr. Pembrooke returned her gaze to the hero's body, "I'll try to keep him stable. He may live just long enough for us to thank him."

David nodded, looking down at his wrist-watch. "I have to be going. Should I come back and check on him?"

The doctor only shook her head, "No, It's best you forgot all about this. I don't want your life at stake if things take a turn for the worst."

He slid on his coat and said goodbye, walking nonchalantly out of the room. Jeanette removed the sheet up to the man's waist. Retrieving a pair of shears from the tray beside her, she then carefully cut away the burned shirt and vest. Only then did she see how much she had her job cut out for her.

~VESCOR~

A/N: Noticed ~VESCOR~? It's a rough translation in Latin for enjoy.

So I hope you all enjoyed that. I'm really excited to write the next chapter but I can't do it unless I get enough reviews. So send me your comment, questions and concerns, but please no flames, they will be crush in my fury. Thank you all for reading, and favorite at your will.

Vale!