V sat at the kitchen table hanging his head in his hands, as Evey walked in she stroked her hand across the vast blankness of his back. He didn't look up.

"Would you like anything?" Evey said nervously. The masked man didn't stir. She thought she recognised a small movement of his shoulders but it was so small it was quite likely she had imagined it. "does that mask make you feel more comfortable?" she said suddenly. After his fit that morning he had wandered into his dressing room and put it on again, with out a word as to why. Evey was frustrated, things had been going so well! Maybe it had all been a lie and he had been delusional when he had spoken to her, maybe their intimate moment was just a one sided fantasy? He had suffered so much damage after all, what if he had been effected mentally? Why wasn't he speaking to her when he she could tell he knew that she was desperate to ask him questions. Why were things so god damned complicated with this man? He tilted his head a little and spoke.

"Evey," his voice was drawn long from exhaustion and nausea, "I would like to thank you for what you have done for me…"

"Oh V it really isn't…"

"But I should think it was about time you left." Evey was suddenly rooted to the floor. What..? This wasn't right. The air of confusion and frustration was sucked from the room and suddenly everything was quite cold. "I'm sure that you will have been expected elsewhere for the last few days. Work to attend to people to see. It seems hardly right for me to detain you." Evey realised that she wasn't breathing and quickly urged her lungs to wheeze out a breath. Something heavy as a cannon ball landed in her stomach.

"But…"

"I believe that I am strong enough now to take care of myself."

"But V, you said that…" This time it wasn't him that cut her words off, her throat sealed shut tightly enough that she could only just breathe. Tears threatened to brim in her eyes as she tried to compose herself.

"We have both have been quite stressed and unwell these past few days. As well as deprived of sleep. I can assure you that anything I might have said may have been taken out of context." He still had not turned to face her. Outside it seemed as though he was being uncaring, but truly, if he saw her face now he knew it would break his heart. It was killing him to tell her like this. But she deserved to know the truth. They could never be together being the way that he was. He would never deserve her after what he had done.

Evey's heart felt like it had been torn from her chest. He was taking it back! He was fucking taking it back! After all that she had done. For him. Tears peaked above her lashes and drizzled down her cheeks. At an impulse her mind tried to distract itself to calm her down but failed when it found nothing was interesting enough to catch her eye. The world was suddenly in black and white.

"You didn't mean it." She murmured, her emotions lacing her words. It wasn't a question so it didn't need an answer. But he felt he had to say something. What could he say to that? For the first time in his life, words didn't just suddenly spring to mind. Of coarse he loved her! but he had come to far to go back now.

"Evey you have been as deprived of sleep as I have. The events of yesterday afternoon were…" He couldn't think of a quote to describe what he was trying to say. His body was trembling underneath him. He desperately tried to control himself. If she saw him out of his calm, there was no telling what she would think "I was not as able to control my words in my weak state." He took a deep breath. "Before urging into… emotions, you should at least have some time to consider what was done before the fifth. You may not realise what you are getting into…"

"You didn't mean it." she said again, a little louder. He stopped talking. Anything he said now would only make matters worse. Evey's limbs felt completely numb, and she took a step forward almost reaching for him. As if touching him would bring her some small comfort. But she knew it wouldn't and pulled away. Why was he doing this! What had she done wrong?

"I'm sorry," he said standing up, "I really think you should go." He started to walk away, feeling her eyes on his back as he made his way to his room. She would never have loved him the way he loved her anyway, she had been frazzled when she had spoken to him. Too emotionally compromised by feelings that would not last. He slowly walked away down one of the gallery halls and out of site. She stood in the kitchen, the counter digging against her back, and began to sob loudly into the echoing passage.