A/N- I just wanted to take a second and thank you guys for reviewing :) It's really getting me in the mood for writing knowing people are actually reading it-haha.

*IMPORTANT* Okay, I've mentioned multiple times that this is a cross between comic and movie and I thought it pretty important to mention I used the train scene from the movie :) That's all feel free to skip any other notes.

V was very much awake...and very much quiet about that fact... at least on the outside. Inside? He was raging through several different wars all at once.

Part of him- a very large part- was enraged. How dare she? How dare she so selfishly keep him in this hell. He had been ready- prepared- expectant even of his death. Those months apart from her after he had left her out... He had prepared damn it! Didn't she understand he had given her back to the world...No. He knew she hadn't understood when he had needed to bring her back. Then he had tortured her into understanding! Breath coming in gasps- remembering how disgusted he had been with himself after every interrogation...

'NO!' he though viciously. Now was not the time to feel sorry for her- to feel again. He had tried so damn hard to give her up- to purge himself of his feelings...

This is where the next war began. A smaller part- yet equally compelling- whispered sweet promises of death. He had only to reach over and grab the waiting bottle of morphine and every trouble and worry he had would be over. Better yet- she would think he merely hadn't survived his injuries... His body wouldn't be able to process it if he took it all at once. His liver- he could feel it- was bruised badly. It likely wasn't ruptured, for he would have bled out hours ago, but it was swollen enough to let him easily take just enough to simply...go to sleep. If he played it right he could even 'accidentally' knock over the then empty bottle and syringe after taking it.

'It would be painless- and easier than going to sleep...' That particularly morbid part of his mind commented. It was that same hellish voice that allowed him to kill others as if they were insects. It was the same voice that had convinced him of his suicide mission in the first place.

Then- there was the largest part of his internal conflict. Bigger than his suicidal whisper, and greater than his anger- was pure and unadulterated confusion.

'Why, Evey...dear sweet girl why would you save me?'

Indeed anarchy wore two faces- creator and destroyer- and he was supposed to be destroyed along with the world he had helped shape. He was a destroyer...Evey was a creator. It just didn't make sense. There was something wrong in him- Evey had said it herself- he was a monster. Like a monster- he needed to be eradicated from the world like so many others he had already taken care of. He was the final monster to be rid of- the explosion in the great heat of battle... He had only asked for one wish- a viking funeral...and she denied him even that.

This turn of thought made V pause in his battle. It was as if this thought was a martyr itself- a martyr of revolution. Stepping out modestly, the little voice cocked it's head as if in great concentration, before stepping up on it's little soap box. 'Perhaps,' the little voice comforted in a quietly booming voice, 'If it is her choice as creator-' the thought paused again and then swelled as it picked up momentum, 'and she chose to keep you- then you belong in this world after all.'

V had not had this kind of complete mental re-evaluation in a long time. It had been *five years to be exact- the moment he had woken from his victim state at Larkhill. When he had become V.

Breathing hard, he tried to wrap his head around the thought. Did he belong? How could he? He started to think- 'Evey took her place and she is creator. Do I belong?'

In panic, feeling very claustrophobic, V tried to sit up- desperate for air. That part of him that told him he belonged also whispered calmly that he was going to fall into shock again and that he needed to stop if he was going to live. However, he paid no mind to that voice now. All he could think of was getting away from the idea that so threateningly spoke sweet nothings about life and future. Future to what- love?...Love- Evey!

For the first time, V realized Evey was in the room. More than in the room- she was dozed off in a chair he recognized to be from the kitchen mere inches from him. Reeling backwards away from her- he realized his mistake too late. Gasping out and letting one hand fly to his chest, the wounded, confused man came upon a new discovery. His hands were naked... so are his feet...and he is wearing a shirt. The shirt. Furthermore, his wounds were very much already taken care of and wrapped very thoroughly.

"Oh God..." V's hand immediately flew to his face.

But no...no the mask was still there. He was out of control- his emotions had never been this askew before. She had seen him- likely all of him. Betrayal so great filled his heart, V had to take calming breaths to stop himself from reaching over and plunging the morphine syringe into his awaiting pulse point.

'In...out...In...and out.'

It was too soon; however, that his breath became more labored- and turned to hyperventilating. He was breaking...breaking... No who was he kidding? He was broken.

Although she had originally had ever intention of staying awake until V woke, Evey had dozed off. She hadn't slept since the night before and the shock of V dying, living, and patching him up had exhausted her. Therefore, when she heard a strangled exclamation and then heavy breathing, Eve was a bit disoriented. Blearily, she opened her eyes and then sat up strait up against her aching and protesting back and joints. V was laboriously breathing, staring at his hands, hunched over and surly tearing apart her careful binding.

With sleep still thick in her throat Evey spoke, "V? Oh Lord, V it's okay."

Moving closer to him Evey took his hand in hers and glanced up at the clock- damn she was thirty minutes late on his dose of morphine. No wonder he was struggling! His chest had to be on fire and she knew he had sever bruising as well. 'Damn it', she thought, 'Now he must hate me...'

Actually, she knew he hated her after what she'd done to help him... However, she pushed those thoughts aside and quietly exclaimed,"I'm sorry V, I'm so sorry! Damn it I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

V, however, seemed to be oblivious to her words and administrations. He merely sat there dazed as Evey carefully measured out the right dosage and pushed up his right sleeve nearly to his shoulder. He seemed totally out and she would have thought him unconscious again, had it not been for his still achingly fast breathing. Thinking he was simply in too much pain, Evey cursed herself again and put a hand on his arm to steady it- she needed to carefully insert the needle in his upper arm muscle to do this properly.

As soon as she touched his upper arm, skin to skin, V made to move away, but she stopped him with a careful squeeze and a soft whisper of comfort.

"Shhh, don't move now- I need you steady." Continuing to speak soft nothings to him, Evey finished giving him the injection. Pausing for a moment she smoothed her finger over the small drop of morphine that was left on his arm. Then, rolling down his sleeve and pulling the blankets up higher, she tried her hardest not to cry in front of him. She had been using the latest dose listed on the hand written instruction because she wasn't sure how his body would react. However, she had still been late and failed him...again.

Voice thick with tears, she smiled and softly said, "Feel better V? I-I'm-"

He cut her off with a calm methodical- near nonchalant question, "Did you look?"

Scrunching her brow, Evey tried to understand what he meant. 'Look? Look at what? Oh-Well yeah to change his bandages.' She was about to say as much when V spoke again.

"Did. You. Look?" He punctuated each word with his weak unclear voice as he started to shake. He didn't speak unkindly but the force behind his words made it all too clear for Evey what he meant this time.

"Oh- No! No V I promise..." Taking his hand she tried to smile at him. She had known he would be angry and she was prepared to take it. "I swear- I only looked where your wounds were," squeezing his hand a few tears dropped from her eyes, "and because I had to. I...please V."

The panic suddenly seemed to melt out of his prone body. She hadn't looked- hadn't seen just how true of a monster he was. Relaxing into the soft blankets he watched her for a moment. His heart was aching. He had wanted so badly to see her again, and truth be told he still wasn't honestly certain he was actually alive. Therefore, when she smiled at him through tearful eyes and then lifted his burned scared hand to her lips, he was stunned. As soon as her lips touched his flesh he jerked back as if being burned all over again. How could see stand to even touch him- let alone...

Stopping him she held his gaze steadily- however one sided it might appear and spoke louder than she in hours, "Please...please V, don't pull away from me... I just got you back."

Those words. Words. He had always been so eloquent with them. He had always been an expert and connoisseur of speech- language. But her words never ceased to amaze and confound him. Why didn't he understand them- trust her? Shaking from the sheer amount of emotion flooding his mind, V tries to speak, but found his voice gruff and too thick with tears to utter anything more than a choke.

Seeing him shake frightened her. Was he still in shock? Was he cold? Running a hand over his comfortingly, she voiced her concerns, "I'll get you something to drink V, and another blanket- just hold on for a moment.

V's perplexed by the sudden introduction of her voice to his silent stewing and thus was unable to stop her and reassure her he's fine before she had already left to fetch him something else. She hadn't stopped. Not comforting him, reassuring him, touching him (how he still didn't know) moving, speaking. Why? Why wasn't she acting like Evey? Evey would have already exclaimed on the difficulty and how she needed his help for one aspect or another. Maybe she truly didn't need him. Obviously she was doing just fine without him and he- he was alive because of her!

This couldn't continue. She needed to move on- to continue the revolution. Eyes widening behind the mask- V realized he didn't even know if she showed up for his midnight appearance. Didn't know if she sent his train off or did anything he asked of her... She obviously didn't follow his direction on his funeral... '

No matter,' he though, ' My time...is up either way. I am no longer the V and she must realize that. She must continue or my carful destruction will be nothing but child's play!'

Somewhere that annoying little voice was calmly speaking about life again- telling him what to do- but he deafened it with the stronger voice of distrust. Just at that moment Evey strode back into the room carrying a blanket he recognized as one he usually used to drape over the chair that sat by the piano. She must be desperate for blankets...and he must be buried under every blanket in the whole gallery by now. He honestly couldn't complain about that one though. It was November and he had lost blood...a lot of it.

Shaking those thoughts out the forefront of his mind V also realized she had held true on getting him a glass of water- but how was he to drink it. Was this some sort of joke? Some sort of trickery to see his face? It had to be- she had seen ever other inch of his body, but he would keep his face- that inch- to himself.

Evey moved to drape the blanket over his growing stack after depositing the glass on the side table, but he stopped her with a gruff yet still hard, "I do not require assistance, Evey."

She had the nerve to look disbelieving! Then she raised an accusing eyebrow at him. "Really?" her voice wasn't as much angry as matter of fact, "Because if I remember correctly I finished patching you up and pulling two bullets out of your chest not five hours ago."

Flinching V absently touched his chest. Yes they had been deep as well... Before V could say anything in response- Evey pulled out a straw from her back pocket and sat heavily in the chair at his side. Placing the straw in his glass, she held it in place and offered it to him.

"I'm not leaving you...I just got you back." As she spoke she moved to help him forward a bit, but V still refused to believe it- or her. Taking the glass from her with weak arms, the man tried to hold it steady to prove his point... and nearly spilled the whole glass all over himself had it not been for Evey's stubborn hands supporting it at the base. Lifting the glass, she carefully maneuvered the straw into his Guy Fawkes mouth's slit.

The water on his throat felt like heaven. He was sure this water was liquid clarity as he sipped the cold liquid selfishly. While he drank deeply she never said, "I told you so," or said anything for that matter. She just let him have a moment... All too soon, however, Evey was pulling the glass away.

"Whoa V," she admonished softly, "Can't have you over doing it, yeah?"

Smiling, she took the glass away and grabbed his hand again. Just holding it. She wasn't prying or speaking. It was so strange to V- to be so vulnerable and yet so...dare he say it? Safe? Looking closer at the woman, V cocked his head slightly. It was an old habit he had gathered to show emotion to the few he chose to reveal himself to. It made him feel almost..human again.

Her eyes were blood red, and there were dark circles forming under her eyes as well. She was exhausted... 'Because of you,' that annoying little voice spoke unassumingly.

'Because of me...'

Evey couldn't stand this. He was observing her, accusing her, she jut knew it. Worse yet she couldn't blame him, not really. She was so useless...she didn't even know what the blood hell was wrong with him! Yeah she had pulled bullets out of his chest- that had to have done some damage, but what? Letting a few tears drop silently- unable to halt them- she quickly swiped them away and smiled. She has to look strong.

Sniffing she blinked rapidly a few times and tried to sound light hearted. She gave a short laugh before apologizing for her tears, "Sorry."

Damn it she was so weak.

Heart lurching at the sight of her tears V felt miserable. Had he really thought of killing himself? Had he honestly wanted to cause his sweet Eve even more pain? Did he belong in this world? No, probably not. He didn't deserve to live at all, but if Evey- his Evey- had kept him around, then perhaps that little voice had been right. Maybe he was supposed to be here. He needed to be here for her alone if nothing else.

Needing to do something- he couldn't just sit there and watch her cry- V tugged on her hand that was still resting over his scared one. The grip was still weaker than his normal capasity, but he was already healing and it was strong enough to make her move forward.

Confused, Evey let herself be moved forward but stopped when she couldn't go farther without getting on the bed, "V? What are you-"

He cut her off, "Shhh," his voice was calm and clear now. This he could do- being strong for her. "Come here Evey."

Pulling her forward onto the mattress, V sent a silent praise to that decision so many years ago to put in that vainly spacious king size bed. Laying the distraught woman down at his side, he was careful to keep her off of his wounds. Then V wrapped an arm around her now shaking shoulders.

"Hush Evey...I'm here now...I won't leave you again."

This confession caused her to let out a choked sob as she moved closer to him. Her short hair was tickling up under his chin as she turned her face into his shoulder. He was in heaven. Rubbing her back softly he shushed her, whispering soft snippets of poetry to her. Often his lines didn't finish the poem and one would inevitably run into another. Neither minded much as V shifted from Dickinson to Blake, and soon Evey's soft sobs were replaced with quiet snores.

Tucking the drained girl's body closer to his, V felt a hand along his chest. Yes, there was some bad bruising in his liver that was going to cause the most damage, but other than that- his body was taking nice care of itself. Larkhill might have been hell, but this one perk was something he could set his life on. It was going to be a bumpy road ahead of them...especially if she hadn't followed through with the his revolution...but perhaps not quite as dismal as he had originally thought.

Just as that thought entered his mind, Evey made a soft sleeping mew and curled closer. "No," he said softly aloud, "it might turn out much better than expected..."

A/N- Thanks for reading everyone :D I try to keep my chapters coming pretty fast, but this one was hard to write... V's personality is difficult to pin point exactly and you'll have to tell me how I did :) Thanks all!