A/N: Yes, V lives. Why? 'Cause it would be a pretty shitty love story if he died. And it would be very short, too.
Well, now that that little rant is out of my system, this is based mostly off the movie. A bit of background: After the events on November 5th, a revolution began. The rebels have secret underground meetings when they can and use a radio system to communicate. Rebels include many members of the city who are for liberty, Muslims and other foreign races and religions, and homosexuals. Evey and Finch are both on the rebel side. The revolts have mostly been in London, but are slowly moving outside the city to surrounding towns. V escaped the train and was living in the underground tunnel slowly getting weaker from his injuries.
There will be homosexual relationships mentioned and displayed in this story (nothing too sexual or disturbing, and not between Evey, V, or Ivy) so if you have issues with that sort of thing, I'm sorry and you have been warned. There will be no sex scenes at all between homosexuals or heterosexuals. I don't write stuff like that, sorry.
It's probably going to be Evey/V and OC/V at times. We'll just have to see.
The train sped away with the boxes upon boxes of explosives and fireworks. And V covered in roses. Evey watched sadly as it picked up speed down the tracks. It was so strange to think that only a year ago she may have cried. A year ago…she wouldn't have pulled that lever. But V had done something to her in a year. She now stood proudly as she watched. Then she turned to the inspector.
"Tell me, do you like music, Mr. Finch?" she asked and then she led him to the roof where the most beautiful sight the country had ever seen could be viewed. It was something no one would ever forget. Because, with the explosion and the colorful sparks, a huge 'V' hung in the sky and marked the 5th of November, the day that began the revolution.
One Month Later
A new leader had been appointed. Everyone knew that killing the chancellor wouldn't stop the dictatorship, but it did give everyone hope. Now the war had begun and a rebel alliance was created, waiting for the perfect time to strike. At the moment, everything was quiet. The majority of the rebellions had died down. People seemed to be cooperating. But everyone knew that it wasn't so. There would be more rebellions and riots. And everyone knew that November would be special. They just didn't know what was going to happen.
V, though, knew nothing of any of this. He was alive, but he was confident that he was the soul person who knew that he was so. Living in the tunnel where he had escaped from, he often wondered what became of his plan. The train had gone, Evey had done that. But now…now he didn't know of the rebellion. His wounds prevented him from going out and learning of it. In fact, his wounds were only getting worse. He was getting weaker. He hoped Evey would never find out that he was alive and living (just barely) like he was.
V collapsed to his knees clutching his torso. He was tired. And every bullet in his still hurt. He wondered for a moment if this was his last moments. His only wish was that he had died a month ago in Evey's arms. It was where he should have and, as far as he was concerned, he did.
Miles away in a small town outside of London, there was an explosion. The revolution had reached that far in such a short time. A young man twisted in agony on the ground. Then he was still and he died. Blake Parker, a young doctor for the rebels, had seen it all too often. People died every day here. People fighting for a good cause.
In London, though, things were mostly quiet. It was late and Curfew began at 6 pm these days and ended at 6 am. Everyone except the fingermen had to be inside with their doors locked and curtains drawn. By 10 pm, lights had to be out and all the houses had to be quiet.
A small figure ran through the dark and empty streets. A boy who could have 14 or 15 by the looks of him. He should have been inside, but this boy was a member of the rebellion. He was a scavenger and needed to find some place to either meet more rebels or hide if someone came for him. He wasn't far from his house when he found his way underground. It was the perfect place to hide. He knew there had to be some way of getting to the train tracks from his secret little home underground. These tunnels were all connected. It was amazing the Finger hadn't found them yet.
Slipping through one of the tunnels he hadn't yet explored, he stumbled upon a man. Judging by his mask, he was a part of the rebellion. The first thing the boy smelled was blood. He lifted back the black cape of the man and saw the wounds. The boy gasped. Thinking quickly, he felt for a pulse. There was only a faint one. At that moment, he knew that he couldn't leave the man there.
Evey, who assumed the identity of Vivian Finch, was sleeping in the house of Eric Finch. She was believed to be his cousin who had left home to pursue a career in London. Since he was still believed to be a member of the Nose, she lived undisturbed. In reality, they were both members of the rebellion.
Evey wore a hat most of the time. Her hair was not as short as it had been, but it was short enough that people might ask about it.
Still, everything was quiet…
It was close to two in the morning now. The boy had been working hard on the wounded man. He was trained in medicines and such and could determine that the wounds were not fresh. Still, he was doing alright with what he had. He had gotten ten of the thirteen bullets that were still in the man's body and was working on the infected parts.
The man then stirred and groaned a little bit. Quickly, the boy grabbed a rag and pored something from a bottle onto it.
"What's going…" the man whispered hoarsely and weakly.
"I'm sorry," the boy answered and held the ether-soaked rag up to man's face, pulling the mask slightly back first. He thought it was rude to remove it. It was customary not to in the rebellion. And from the burnt and swelled skin of the man's torso, he assumed it was to conceal the face that was likely equally as charred. It was all too usual to see burned bodies, but the boy couldn't say he had seen any as bad as this.
The man became unconscious again and the boy pulled his mask back down. Then he continued to work on the wounds, checking the man's pulse often. Alcohol, stiches, and various anti-bacteria shots and creams were available to the boy. All were used. At five o'clock, he administered one final shot: a painkiller.
"Please live," he whispered. Then there was a voice from the other room.
"554, come in, 554," the small radio whined.
"554 here, over," the boy answered.
"554, we received your message. How is the patient? Is a doctor needed? Over,"
"Depends, how soon could a doctor be here? Over,"
"One week, over,"
"Then I'll have to make due by myself. I kept him alive this long, over,"
"Nobody ever doubted you would, over,"
"I know," the boy laughed, "I do need a day off, though, over,"
"Will do. Anything else? Over,"
"Nothing. I'll meet you all later. Oh, and I didn't find anything on my search other than him…Over!"
"That's alright. See you at our meeting next week, over,"
"Over and out," the boy switched off the radio now and returned to look at the man. He had done a good job. And he was proud of it. In a crisis, he didn't know whether he'd be appointed to medical or actually be able to fight. He was excellent at both. Of course, being trained by his mother in gymnastics and balance helped a lot.
Now he went to the kitchen and began to cook. He had a rather unusual ability to go for a couple days without sleep. It helped if he was to be on medical for this inevitable war.
Evey awoke and stretched out. She got dressed and looked at her hair. There wasn't much there, but at least it was growing. She liked it though. It reminded her of V. Every day it reminded her of him and what he meant to her.
She walked downstairs to where he "cousin" was cooking breakfast.
"Good morning, Vivian," he said. It was a habit now to call her Vivian, just in case. When he called her Evey once, someone asked him about it. "No, I called her Vi-Vi," he covered up his almost fatal mistake. Now, a lot of people did call her Vi-Vi.
"Any news?" she asked.
"Yes, 978 is working on the creation of new guns and knives; 609 has a new recruit, codename Frog; 771 reports the death of codename Harp due to heart failure," Finch began.
"Well, it's what we expected for a while now, isn't it?" she remarked.
"554 has recovered a man in the tunnels and, obviously, has almost nursed him back to health,"
"God bless her,"
"And codename Rain needs a day off. And of course the explosion reported in 788,"
"Right. It's so quiet, thank God,"
"Yes. And the meeting's on Tuesday."
Evey nodded. "So I'm needed on the radio today?"
"Yes. As you know, our current girl is taking a sick day,"
Evey nodded. "Well, let's eat,"
The boy stood over the man with a bowl of soup in his hands. He placed the bowl down and decided to check for a pulse. His hands simply brushed his neck when a gloved hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.
"You're awake," the boy said, "Good morning,"
"Where am I?" the man asked.
"In an underground rebel chamber,"
"Yes. Our side. We're against Norsefire,"
"There are sides now?"
"Yes. How long have you been in the tunnel?"
"Since November 5th,"
"That's the day the war began,"
"Yes. We, the rebels, are trying to overthrow the government and gain our liberty. Nothing major has happened yet, only a few riots since November. We communicate through our secret radio system. You are on our side, aren't you?"
"I suppose so. I am against Norsefire. I have always been against it. But I have not heard of anything that has been going on in the past month. What is your name?"
"Most people call me Rain. And you?"
"You may call me V,"
The boy known as Rain nodded. "I should at least inform you of what is going on. But first, are you hungry? He tried to pass him the bowl of soup.
"Yes, but I'd prefer if I didn't have to take off my mask,"
"Understandable, sir. I'll go into the other room,"
"You are such a kind young boy, Rain, thank you,"
Rain smiled. The smile truly lit up his face and made him appear to look a bit like a girl. But V assumed it must have been because of the fact that he was so young.
Rain, in the meantime, went to his room and into the bathroom where a mirror was hanging from the wall. He closed the door and locked it. Then he stared at himself in the mirror for a while. His hand went to the hat he was wearing. He removed it and locks of long brown hair fell. He removed the heavy coat he wore, under which was a fitted shirt. Now he looked very much like a girl and for a very good reason: his name was Guinevere Ivy Larkin. He was a she, and she was often called Vi-Vi-Ivy. VV IV, or 554 in roman numerals. She liked to look at herself like this. She snuck around so much as a boy. If she were caught as she was, a twenty-one-year-old girl, she would be arrested and killed. But if they saw a young boy, they would let him off with a warning. Several young girls did that. She, being so petite, was perfect for the part. She liked the day time, though. Then she could wear clothes that fit her.
It dawned upon her that she had been dressed as a boy when she met V. V must have believed she was a boy. For that reason, she had to stay a boy a little bit longer.
'Meow,' came a soft sound from outside the door. Ivy opened the door to let the kitten that she had named Freedom into the bathroom. She locked the door again and looked at the little white kitten. It was a darling little thing. She wished she could have it with her all the time. But pets were not allowed anymore. A fish was the only creature that was allowed in a home. Any other animal was considered a guard or a way to send messages. She had found Freedom when she was out at night. It was one of the pets that had to be abandoned.
She smiled at the kitten. She had two pets: Freedom and a dog named Liberty. It was highly illegal, but she enjoyed their company. She currently put her hair back up so she looked like a boy again and put the coat back on. Then she exited the bathroom and went downstairs.
Pausing outside V's door, which she had closed, she knocked.
"Come in," was the reply. She opened the door and found V with his mask on sitting up in bed. "Are you a doctor?"
"No. But I am skilled in the medical field. I will probably end up being a medic for soldiers when the war begins," she replied in a deep voice, "I do have to apologize, you probably shouldn't move unil Tuesday,"
"What day is today?"
"I'm sorry, it's just‒"
"No need to be sorry. It's just that I hate to be such a bother to you and your parents,"
"You're no bother to me. And my parents…they're dead,"
"Don't be. You weren't responsible for their deaths. They both died in a revolt last month,"
"Oh," V wanted to apologize for the boy's loss again, but held back.
"But anyways, it's nice to have the company," she said.
"Then I suppose I don't mind intruding,"
"You can stay here as long as you'd like. Besides, we're both on the same side,"
"Indeed we are,"
There was silence. "Do you read, sir?" she finally asked, "I feel awful that you're going to be here so long, so would you like a book? I have so many,"
"Please, call me V. It seems we're on a codename basis," he joked, "and yes, a book would be wonderful.
"I'll be right back," she said. A moment later she returned with a box of books. "There should be something in there you'll like,"
"I'm sure there will be," V replied, "Thank you very much,"
For the following days, Ivy took care of V, made him meals, found him things to do, and talked to him often. She had grown to trust him, but still didn't reveal that she was a woman. It was on Monday that their usual routine was interrupted when there was a knock on the door in the house above them.
The underground chamber was connected to a house where Ivy was living as a young singer and writer. It was difficult for her to get a job as music and writing had to be approved by the government. She was therefore a waitress as well.
Ivy went into the other room. She pressed a button. "Who's there?" she asked.
"Remember the fifth," someone said over the intercom, "Codenames King and Queen,"
Ivy buzzed them in and ran upstairs to meet them. She knew who it was, she knew them well. Heather and Jessica, a couple who was on the rebel side.
"Vi-Vi-Ivy," Heather said, "I'm so sorry, but we have nowhere else to go,"
"Please you're always welcome here," Ivy answered.
"Oh, um, Ivy dear, why are you dressed like that?" Jessica asked.
"Oh, I should explain," Ivy then told the entire story of what had happened to her.
"So you're always complaining about not having a boyfriend on the rebel side and yet you dress like a guy when you have a man in your house? I'll admit it's a good idea since there are a large number of gay men on our side, but I wouldn't get really into a relationship with a gay guy if I were you," Heather joked, "Although it's how I met Jessica. She was straight when I met her so I dressed as a man and we've been together ever since,"
"That's not funny," Jessica said, "I think it's wonderful that you're helping him, but you should tell him you're a girl,"
"I'm sure he'll find out eventually," Ivy said, "But Rain will do nicely while you're hear,"
"Jessica's gonna slip up, I guarantee it," Heather said.
"Oh, well. Would you like to meet him?" Ivy asked.
"Love to!" Jessica said.
Ivy led the girls to the room. She lightly tapped on the door. When V answered, she opened it.
"V, these are my friends, Heather and Jessica. They're on our side…and they're a couple," Ivy said in her deep voice that almost made Jessica laugh. "Ladies this is V, the half dead dude in the tunnel I told you about,"
"'Sup, half dead dude?" Heather asked.
"Good evening, ladies," V said with a tip of his head, "I apologize I cannot be in better condition in or der to greet you,"
"Oh, he's so polite," Jessica remarked looking at Ivy.
"Whoa, Jess is my girl!" Heather joked, catching Jessica's slip up right away.
Ivy bit her lip. "Heather and Jessica will be staying with us until Wednesday. I hope you don't mind,"
"Of course not. I'd much enjoy some company as I assume you do as well, Mr. Rain," V replied.
Ivy smiled. "Well, I'm going to go back to making dinner,"
"Oh, I'll help you!" Jessica said, "After all, you need a woman's help in the kitchen,"
Heather rolled her eyes as her girlfriend left with Ivy. She then walked over and sat down in a chair by the bed V was in.
If there was a man in Heather and Jessica's relationship, it would be Heather. Heather was more muscular than the petite Jessica. She had short blond hair and she hated wearing makeup whereas Jessica loved makeup and adored her long brown hair. She liked looser clothing and Jessica liked more fitted outfits. Jessica certainly had a gigglier, gossipy personality where Heather was much more direct and sarcastic.
"Nice kid, huh?" she remarked.
"He's a very kind boy, but I can't help thinking he's hiding something," V replied.
"Believe me," she said, "you have no idea,"
In the kitchen, Jessica was getting four plates out of the cupboard.
"You like him," she giggled, "I can tell,"
"Jessica, I really don't think‒" she began.
"Darling, I may be a lesbian, but I know love when I see. You like him. You may not love him yet, but you may grow to. I can tell you now, three things could happen: you will fall in love with him, you will hate him, or you will become very good friends, but there's no in between,"
"Jessica," Ivy said.
"You're feeling like you don't love him. You don't even think you're friends. What you don't realize is that you care about him. You know you enjoy talking to him and being close to him. You are afraid that when he's better that he'll leave. You're secretly dreading the day he leaves because you believe that you will never see him again and you believe you will never feel that way again. You don't know what will happen, but you wish, deep down inside, you wish it would never end,"
Ivy was quiet. "How do you know so much?"
"I do a lot of people watching," she said with a smile.
Ivy laughed and they got dinner on the table.