Neither, a v for vendetta fanfic

Disclaimer: As always, they're not mine and never will be. These characters and places belong to Alan Moore, DC Comics, Wachowski brothers, and Warner Bros.

Author's Note: This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website. Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

This story has accompanying artwork. To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "Neither."

Special notes:

Immediate followup to "The Best For Last".

This also acts as set-up for a few issues in "Especially" (which happens not too long after). For example, this is why she wouldn't leave in "Especially", even though she was so offended, and even though she threatened at first.

This was written for healing, more than anything else. About fifteen minutes after finishing "Ruiisag Bane", I started this, if only to fix the sad nightmare in my head.

I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. -- Shakespeare, All's Well that Ends Well

And finally, the song referenced her is the one played in the movie when Evey is leaving after her 'torture' and rebirth. ... I Found a Reason, by Cat Power. Lyrics not really necessary though ... only referenced due to placement.

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Neither

"Evey. I'm afraid the music has yet to begin."

V attempted to deliver the statement with absolute seriousness, but it only came out as poorly veiled bemusement.

He'd deposited her in front of the jukebox while he searched for an appropriate tune. In this case, on this night, he was especially looking for something short ... something she might remain upright throughout, before both her feet and her waking mind surrendered and slumped her into unconsciousness. With every passing moment he could feel it ... sleep and exhaustion creeping into her limbs.

Naturally, in her tired state, she'd backed against the machine. Or at least that appeared to be the excuse. He wasn't quite certain anymore, once that coy smile crept across her face.

And as most other things in life, it was not a coincidence that forced his reach to stretch so very far around her, just in order to find the tunes. Nor was it coincidence when he leaned a bit harder than usual against her ... ... ... she was blocking him from the machine, what else was he to do? But of course, while the fates would not be tempted, perhaps their attention could be caught, when V felt carefully behind his lady for the selection buttons.

Evey's eyes closed briefly at the impromptu, almost mistaken touch, trying not to frighten him with how much she enjoyed such flirtations. He knew though, she was certain ... whether he would acknowledge it aloud or not. When she looked up again, the Fawkes's visage had dipped toward her temple, in just the way she'd been imagining for hours while socializing with Christian.

A series of clicks from behind her as three buttons were pressed, his arm moving lightly against her side in the process. Then the faintest white noise from electricity's rush to the speakers, preparing for the first notes.

"I know this one," she murmured, when the first notes arose. "I don't think we've ever danced to it though."

V's head shook slowly, while one hand moved to collect hers. The other ... it never even retreated ... sliding with as much chasteness as he could muster, up along her hip to take her waist.

"No, we haven't," he verified. His arm went further around her, and he realized exactly how serious she was in her instructions to 'hold her up'. And heavens, once he'd gathered her in against himself, he realized the ease with which he could do this all night. ... ... "Do you remember the first time you heard it, love?"

She relaxed further against him and tried to think.

"Maybe. A few years ago?"

V didn't answer immediately, deciding exactly how many dance steps he actually wanted to take. At the moment, he was more than content to remain just as he was now ... swaying her weight gently against his own.

"Yes," he whispered, leaning his head to hers. "I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body."

At his chest, she laughed lightly for a moment. "What? What are you talking about now?"

"This music played on the event of your second departure," he explained. "Just after ... ..." He paused, choosing not to bring up memories already put to rest.

Ironically, it was the last clue she needed. Yes, she actually did remember that occasion, it having been such an intense moment in her life. Yes. The day V had released the newly reborn Evey into the world. ... ... Or rather, the day the newly reborn Evey had walked away from his world. By the time the mellow string of words ... "come come, come come to me," ... had crooned from the jukebox, she knew his reference exactly.

Now his quotation made sense. Voice dropping, she mournfully asked, "Why would you want to replay it? V, if you're punishing yourself over what happened earlier today ... ..."

His head shook against hers in silent, gentle interruption, and his arms dropped ... breaking from their standard dancing frame ... moving instead to enfold her. He didn't even want to sway anymore, as it turned out.

"Perhaps I was wondering which might claim the weaker sting? Then, or now?"

Tired as she was, she stretched up, wrapping her arms around his neck and purposefully pulling herself closer. She didn't want to know the answer. Honestly didn't. But she knew he'd tell her anyway.

"Neither," he finally concluded.

It was only the truth.

Watching her leave forever because all he'd shown her was the 'monster' within? Or watching her disappear now, because nothing more than his weak, human pride needed to be assuaged. ... ... Two sides of the same knife, cutting equally.

... ... "You walked away to this song," he murmured. "Please, love. Don't allow me to drive you away again. Even if my words are the worst foolishness. ... ... Please?"

Sadly, she drew herself still tighter into him, helped along by his strength as well -- far, far beyond merely 'holding her up'. "I won't," she insisted quietly, emphasized by a squeeze. "I promise. ... I promise."

"Even if my words are foolish," he repeated fervently. "Even then?"

"Even then," she swore. "Even then. ... Even then."

It quieted him, and she waited long, patient moments, until his grip showed the beginnings of appeasement. By then the song was playing out, nearing its last strains. ... ... A song that, ironically enough, she had always remembered just a bit differently.

Yes indeed, she had left the old Shadow Gallery while this song repeated on the jukebox. But something else had happened too.

Or nearly happened, at least.

She finally began to ease herself away, happiest when she could see his face again. Either face ... at this point, she didn't really care.

"I did something else, while this song was playing," she soothed, meeting the mask's smile with her own. "Or rather, I tried to."

V was silent. Perhaps remembering. Perhaps not. ... ... She couldn't tell. ... ... Nor could he, truth be told. Sometimes memory can be shaded by hopefulness.

But he had an idea. And yes, he hoped.

"Can I try again now?" she asked softly.

... ... ... ... "Yes," he agreed, almost as if caught in her trance. ... ... Memory had turned to hopefulness, and hopefulness was becoming reality. Right here, during that same mournful tune.

The feel of her hands retreating from his neck was no loss at all, because he knew where they would go instead. -- -- Onto the sides of the mask, her fingers careful not to go too deep, lest they risk an uninvited touch to disfigured ears.

"I love you," she whispered, drawing him down to kiss that ever-grinning mask.

Three years ago, he had awkwardly foiled her, and she had helplessly allowed it.

But now ... ...

No more foiling. No more allowing. And the ragged inhalation he took when she at last retreated, was very much like that he would have taken had she kissed his actual flesh.

And she could elicit another such breath from her beau, repeating the same verbal endearment as she stretched to kiss his neck as well. This time his head tilted, seeming to close down around hers. As if, maybe, he could keep her there. He was accustomed to such blessings now, and reveled in them like any other man who might have courted her. ... Any other man who would never want to see her go.

Any other man who might receive her next request. ... ...

"Can I come to your chaise lounge again tonight? I'm so tired. And I'll sleep better. ... ... You probably will too."

He almost nodded ... had to resist the temptation with every ounce of willpower, until he could ask one thing ... "How easily would you allow me to push you away, if I refused?"

Evey smiled, recognizing the not so subtle test of her earlier promise. "I wouldn't," she replied, her smile growing still further. Then she leaned her weight back onto his -- -- physical reminder that she would only move toward him, never away. Never truly away. ... "And you're not getting rid of me."

V let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. A little puff that always amused his beloved. "Then yes, I believe I will sleep well too." ... ... He leaned closer, dropping Fawkes's forehead to hers ... maybe even tempting her into another kiss, if he were lucky. "Quite well indeed. Knowing that you will stay."

And he did believe.

He really did.

Because she'd promised.

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This story has accompanying artwork. To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "Neither."