Ça Va Sans Dire
French, means: "it goes without saying"
Summary: V survives the shooting and the story continues.
Disclaimer: Nothing from V for Vendetta is mine. This is just for fun.
Finch was gone. Evey had led him to the rooftop through the Shadow Gallery, but she escorted him out another way. With a grand bang, the Shadow Gallery had transformed into hallowed ground and Finch, for all his apparent good intentions, would never again set foot in V's home.
Walking alone back down one of the many corridors Evey tried to reclaim the numbness, bring back the calm and find the peace V would have wanted her to feel at his passing. V had died exactly as he had planned and perhaps better than he'd expected. He would wonder why she wasn't happy for him.
At the door to the Shadow Gallery Evey paused unsure if she wanted to enter. Without V's unique energy filling it, the place could no longer possess the warmth of a home. This time if she pushed through the door it would be reduced to the limits of its name, nothing more than a poorly lit gallery filled with memories of the long dead past. She wanted to remember it as it had been.
Evey almost turned around and returned to her apartment. She almost allowed V's home to become a shrine, a holy or holies that even she was unworthy to enter.
Her hand reached out of its own accord and pushed open the door. Unlike Evey's expectations the Shadow Gallery felt exactly the same. There could be no doubt V was sitting in one of its many rooms, book in hand, lost in a world of imagination.
It was then that Evey broke down. Slumping to the floor she sobbed until dehydration dried her tears and there was blood in the back of her ragged throat. With effort she picked herself up and walked to the kitchen for tea with honey to soothe her vocal cords and distract her spinning mind.
There was blood on the floor and the counter.
Logical doubt and heart felt hope instantly went to war. Hope might have been at extreme end of foolishness, might have been futile, but as V had taught her, sometimes hope was all there was.
Evey followed the trail of blood down a hall she had never traveled before. At the end a large wooden door gaped open. There was minimal light inside. Feeling ridiculous and terrified of being disappointed, Evey called out, "V?"
"A moment, please." His voice was the weakest whisper.
V need not have asked. Shock had rooted Evey's feet to the floor even as her heart tried to run the distance to his side. The result of her body's miscommunication was that she fell.
"You're here, how are you here?" Evey asked as she climbed back to her feet. How do dead men walk again?
"You may come in now if you like."
Evey rushed into the void and dropped to her knees at the side of his bed. The strong odors of gunpowder and blood assaulted her nostrils. "What should I do? We should call an ambulance. Get you to a hospital. We have no phone. Oh God, what do I do?"
"Sit with me, Evey."
Evey had watched enough movies to know what that meant. He's dying, her heart wailed, and there is nothing I can do. Oh God. "Don't go. Not again. I can't bear it. Please, V. Stay with me."
He chuckled. It sounded more like a gurgle, but the mirth was evident.
"I will be going nowhere for quite some time I expect." V wheezed in a breath and continued, "If you would read to me that would be lovely."
Evey had fallen asleep countless times while V read to her, but she had never read to him. Somewhere in the back of Evey's mind she remembered something about sleep being bad for injured people. If he fell asleep he would die. If she read to him V would fall asleep and he would die. "You need to stay awake."
"I don't have a head wound, dear. When I get to it, sleep will do me good."
Now he mentioned it, Evey remembered the sleeping thing had something to do with concussions. Not that being wrong on changed anything. She still feared he would die in his sleep.
V seemed to know. "I promise, on my honor, I will wake up."
"Watch your eyes," Evey muttered as she reached for and fumbled with the lamp which rewarded her for turning it on by blinding her. Before looking for a book she glanced at V. He looked exactly the same as he had at the tracks only now his chest was noticeably rising and falling. She took comfort in the rhythm.
"So what do you want to hear?"
"What book?" Evey asked, as she surveyed a tall stack of books, all with markers in them.
"Something light. There was a Pratchett there I believe."
Halfway down the stack between 'Atlas Shrugged' and 'Emma' Evey found a small purple paperback called, "Witches Abroad". The summary on the back said, "Three witches make the Godmother an offer she can't refuse".
Without thinking Evey said aloud, "Are you kidding?"
V snorted and waved a limp hand at her.
"O-kay." She said while thinking, V, you never cease to amaze me.
Evey cracked the book open to the marked page and started reading. V fell asleep within minutes but she kept going. The exploits of Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat were so engaging she stayed up the entire night, listening to the sound of her own voice keep time with the rhythm of V's respiration. By the time Evey closed the book, her watch told her it was morning, her throat told her it was time for more tea and her bladder said it was time to leave V alone for a few minutes.