I'm very pleased to say that after a long (or I think so) hiatus, I'm finally back again with a new chapter! I've been very busy with Christmas preparations and working these holidays so I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter (also thank you so much for your lovely reviews!)

And now, here we go.

X

It was about five o'clock that evening that I had fully thought things over. I would do whatever Patrick asked me to do, while somehow managing to keep a low profile and keep things as normal as I possibly could. That was another problem. Should I be telling V all this? He'd probably want to be our chaperone, or something. The thought made me roll my eyes. Honestly.

I sat in the kitchen, flicking my way through one of V's books, Pride and Prejudice. I was enjoying the story so far, and was up to the part where Elizabeth's horrible cousin, Mr Collins, comes to visit. The rest of the Shadow Galley was quiet, apart from the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, the rustling whenever I turned a page, and the–

"Hello, Evey."

Evey?

Evey was here?

The book nearly fell off the table as I hurried into the living room, then stopped at the sight of Evey.

What had happened to her?

Her head was shaved, and she was dressed in a prisoner's outfit; a dark orange dress that hung on her like clothing on a hanger. I stared at her, not quite able to believe what I was seeing, not quite able to speak.

"You." Her voice was faint, but accusing. "It was you."

"Yes."

"That wasn't real."

What wasn't real? I wanted to ask, but couldn't.

"Is Gordon–"

"I'm sorry, but Mr Dietrich is dead." V took a few steps towards her, though his voice became gentler. "Fortunately, I got to you before they did."

"You got to me?" Evey's voice became more incredulous, not appearing to realize I was there. "You cut my hair? You tortured me." Her voice became shriller. "You tortured me!"

I stared first at V, then at Evey. Then, slowly, everything began to fall into place.

That was the reason why V disappeared so often.

That was the reason why he always came back so distant subdued, and full of remorse.

Hating himself for what he was doing to Evey.

"Why? The word that came out of my mouth sounded accusing, horrified. Evey turned to stare at me, shocked.

"Vanessa?" She raised a hand, pointing at me. "You're still here? You haven't left?"

I nodded, slowly. "I came back." It was barely audible.

Evey turned back to V, her eyes wide with shock and anger.

"You said you wanted to live without fear." V stated. "I wish there had been an easier way. But you don't understand how hard it was for me to do what I did. Every day, I saw in myself exactly what you saw in me."

"What?" My voice was rapidly rising, from fear, anger and shock. "So this is what you've been doing, for weeks now, and you've kept it from both of us?!"

Evey had started to shake. "You're sick!" she spat at V, trembling. "I hate you!"

"That's it!" V spoke louder, more feverently. "At first, I thought that hate was all I knew. I thought I would die from all the hate in my veins. But then, something happened. It happened to me, just as it happened to you."

"I can't feel anything anymore!" Evey shouted, her whole body shaking, her breathing coming in gasps. I took a step forwards, alarmed.

"Don't run from it, Evey." His voice was calmer, more controlled, in contrast to Evey.

"V, stop! Just stop it!" I whipped round, panic evident in my voice as Evey fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

He caught her, cupping her face in his hand and began to speak to her, urgently. Crouching beside the two of them I took hold of Evey's hand and held it tightly.

"Listen to me, Evey. This may be the most important moment of your life. Commit to it. When you faced your death in that cell, you were calm. You were still. Try to feel what you felt then."

We waited, as Evey's breathing slowed, her body becoming calmer. Finally, she spoke. "I feel….dizzy. I need air." She took another breath. "I need to be outside."

V wrapped an arm round her, helping her stand. "There's a lift. It'll take us to the roof."

As the rain poured from the sky, and thunder and lightening flashed overhead, the three of us made our way to onto the roof. On V's other side I stood, watching as the flashes on light illuminated the entire city, silhouetting the darkening sky. Watching as V attempted to put his cloak around Evey's shoulders, but she stepped forwards, out into the rain. I moved forwards, the rain on my face wetting my hair, my skin, my clothes.

"God is in the rain." The voice belonged to Evey, as she stood in the rain, staring out at the sky.

As the rain fell, and lightening flashed, she stepped further forwards, raising her arms up, letting the water wash over her from above. Letting the rain fall, half crying, as she stood there, letting a part of herself go forever.

And I was reminded of V. The image of the Man from Room Five filled my head, standing in the flames, as the fire raged around him. His arms raised upwards, just like Evey's were now. And it struck me how both of them were different, yet so similar; both reborn from fire and water, the two elements that contrasted, yet somehow, coexisted together.

Then, my thoughts took a different turn.

"V," I asked, quietly. "what day is it?"

"September the thirteenth." V turned to look at me, as if slightly puzzled. "Why?"

I didn't answer straight away. Instead, I turned to gaze out into the rain, barely feeling the drops of water as they cascaded downwards.

"It's just…I've just remembered." A sudden realization filled my mind, that now, this really was the true start of my future. That nearly a whole year had passed, and I was somehow a completely different person. "Today's my birthday."

As Evey slowly lowered her arms downwards, still facing away from us towards the city of London, I felt V lay his hand gently on my shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Vanessa."

That evening, I found myself sitting alone with Evey in the main living room. For two hours, we just talked and talked. I told her about everything that had happened since I had last seen her, about Patrick, the two of us nearly being captured on the train, spray-painting a picture of V onto the brick wall, everything. I'd never talked so much in my life. I wasn't sure where V was, but then again, I almost never knew what he got up to on a daily basis.

"It's so…strange." Evey glanced round the room. "I never thought that I'd end up back here, at the Shadow Gallery, of all places. I honestly thought that I would die in that awful prison." She gave a bitter smile. "Of course, I didn't know then that whole thing was made up. But here I am."

"I just can't believe that V would go that far." My voice shook as I glanced at Evey's shorn head, thinking of her in her orange prison dress.

"Neither can I." Evey's voice was almost a whisper. "But in a way, now, I'm sort of…grateful that he did what he did."

I stared at her, shocked. "How can you be grateful when the man you thought you could trust imprisoned, interrogated and then tortured you?" My voice rose slightly as I gestured towards her. "Look at what he did to you!"

"Vanessa, don't you see that that is the reason why?" A faint smile flickered across her face. "Imagine being trapped in a tiny cell for weeks, with no human contact except that of your imprisoner. Having your hair shaved off, then being tortured, and being questioned endlessly about the whereabouts of V just became a normal part of my everyday routine." She gazed at the ceiling as she spoke. "But eventually, like V said, something happened to me. I couldn't feel fear. I wasn't afraid of anything any longer. And finally, I just accepted it."

I sat there, thinking about what she had just told me. And in a weird, unexpected way–the whole thing made sense.

"I believe you." Suddenly, the thought of Patrick crossed my mind. Or rather, what his plan was. But whether or not to tell Evey about it was another thing.

"What's wrong?" Evey could obviously tell from my face that something was up.

So, I did what I hoped anyone else in my position would do.

I took a deep breath, hoping to God that she wouldn't tell V about it, and told her all about Patrick's plan.

"Well?" I asked, when I had finished. "What do you think I should do?"

She sat quietly, not saying anything. Then, suddenly–

"Go for it."

"What?"

"I mean it." Her voice was determined as she gazed at me. "This is the final test, Vanessa. For all of us. The fifth of November is getting nearer, and we've got to decide for ourselves what we have to do."

I nodded, letting her words sink in.

"There's another thing, too." She hesitated, then carried on. "V told me that today's your birthday, Vanessa."

"Yep."

"Well, I just want to say happy birthday." The first true smile I'd seen since her return broke out across her face. "Seventeen. Wow."

I shrugged. "Another year older, and I'm almost a completely different person. It's funny how these things turn out." I smiled back at her. "But thanks, Evey."

There was a small silence.

"I would have got you a present if I'd known, but–"

I laughed. "Evey, you've just come back to the Shadow Gallery after weeks of being in the middle of a pretend imprisonment. Yeah, right."

She giggled. "True."

After that, as the evening got later, our conversation dwindled until there was silence. And even though, I can't exactly remember what happened, I think that eventually, we both fell asleep on the sofa.

Two days later, it was time to put Patrick's plan into action.

Evey had been sworn to secrecy, of course. I wasn't sure if V had any ideas about what I was about to do, but sure as hell I wasn't planning on sticking around for him to find out.

On that night of September the fifteenth, I waited anxiously for Patrick down Greenway Street, hidden behind a large pillar beside a very tall building, invisible to anyone who might pass by. To tell the truth, I had to firmly convince myself not to turn around and run as fast as I could back to the Shadow Gallery. You were the one who signed up for it, a voice in my head commented smugly.

"Vanessa?"

At the sound of Patrick's whisper, I gingerly stepped out from behind the pillar, spotting him a couple of metres away from me, faintly lit from the glow of the streetlamps.

"Patrick. Over here."

He turned and spotted me, then smiled as he quickly made his way towards me, though he looked wary. I smiled briefly back at him, yet as I did so, noticing that though he looked the same with his blue eyes, dark brown hair that stuck up in exactly the same spot each day, and black jacket, there was something different about him, too. All I knew was that I was relieved that he hadn't been caught.

Instead, I decided to cut to the chase. "Is it far?"

He shook his head. "Not too far. Come on, let's go."

We walked together down that darkening street in near silence, apart from the sound of our footsteps on the pavement. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but I dared not say anything, mainly because I didn't want to attract any attention.

Finally, as we rounded a corner, Patrick stopped. A large, building stood in front of us, its long windows seeming to stare at us disapprovingly. It was two levels high and built out of red brick, one of the newer buildings that looked quite out-of-place in the street. But what automatically caught my attention was the red and black Norsefire logo painted onto the front of the building.

"Woah." I whispered, gazed at the red and black building.

"They call it the Norsefield Library." Patrick muttered. "But it's not just any old library. It has all the previous records of all the dirt Norsefire has dug up on everything. People who've committed crimes, detention camps, stuff about St Mary's."

I was about to reply, when the thin wail of sirens in the distance caught my attention. My breath caught in my throat and I glanced round in panic, suddenly feeling a lot less brave. If only V were here.

"And we're going to destroy it." Mercifully, the sound of sirens faded away, though my heart was still pounding fast.

"That's right." A look that I knew all too well was spreading over his face–a look of determination, as he pulled something out of his pocket. "If all of this information was destroyed, then all the records would be lost. And that includes the Chancellor's prized information about what caused the St Mary's virus, and when Larkhill was blown up."

Then, he gazed at me, and his face softened for a moment. "It'll be fine, Vanessa. Just trust me."

"Promise?" I whispered.

He reached out and took hold of my hand. As he did, I felt a small, hard metal object slip into my palm, and somehow, knew what it was without even looking.

"Promise." Still keeping hold of my hand, Patrick flicked the spark wheel of his own lighter, letting the flame burn into life.

"Let's go, Patrick. We've got a fire to start." I whispered, flicking my own lighter and watching the two flames burn together.

So it seems like Vanessa is a pyromaniac as well as a graffiti artist, a runaway, a rebel, and a storyteller...anything else we've missed? Feel V to leave a review (yes, I know I've said that before, but I like that pun, so don't hate) and I'll get the next part up as soon as I can! :D