A/N: Partially inspired by a story I read a while back where a note both began and ended with the sentence, "If you are the one she is looking for, you will know." Also, just be aware of Evey x Finch ahead.
"If you are the one she is looking for, you will know.
I'd given up my humanity long ago, so long ago that I can hardly remember it. I had a name once, but it eludes me now, a lost dream of someone long ago. I had even joked to myself in solitude that it must have been 'Victor' or 'Vincent', it would only be fitting.
Yes, I was a man once, may the fact confound you.
Once I had given it up, I never thought I would find it again- never thought I would want to. I was little more than a conduit, a messenger for an idea, an idea the world needed, her more than most.
But it was for her that I wished I could give it up, let go of the dream, remove the mask and be a man once more.
I wished I could have wrapped more than my cloak around her that night she cried in the rain. I wanted more than anything have held her close, kept her warm, tell her all of the forbidden stories she'd never heard. I would have apologized, pleaded for forgiveness, made her see that I could be more than the madman on the telly.
I wanted to kiss her with my own lips, not the porcelain pair I so chose.
But I couldn't.
I was an idea now, not a man, an idea the world needed, her more than most.
I cried knowing I couldn't be what she wanted, what she saw in me, the man she thought I could be.
If you are the one she is looking for, you will know.
What I know is that you will find this; it will be inside an envelope, between the pages of the book she always brushes her fingers against when she glances at it walking by, the one she never opens but seems to think of reverently, fondly. You'll wait until she is long asleep, she goes to bed early now and will never be caught out-of-doors late at night. You will make your way over to the offending book, take a deep breath to steel yourself and flip through the pages, until you find the little white envelope, containing this note.
Restless as she is now, she will come downstairs for a glass of water or to put something on the telly to ease her mind. She'll ask you what you've got and you'll just say a letter, a bill, something mundane she won't question. You know how she can be. You don't want to trouble her further. You'll kiss her on the top of her head- she likes that- and will drop the note somewhere on the table, reminding yourself you'd need to hide it where she won't see it.
You'd do this even without my direction.
And you'll love her, more than I ever could.
If you are the one she is looking for, you will know."
Finch sighed, refolding the note and tucking it back into the ripped envelope. Somehow this person- this V made both more and less sense the more he found out about him.
No, he didn't know. He couldn't know if he was what she was looking for or if he was any good for her.
Machiavelli, he noted the book on the table, the "offending" book. It probably came from that place.
"Eric?" a voice called down the stairs, "What's that?" Evey asked, making her way over to him.
"Uhh, just a letter. From a friend, you know," Finch stammered, leaving the envelope on the coffee table, "What are you doing up so late, sweetheart?"
She shook her head, "I couldn't sleep. Nightmares again."
He wrapped his arms around her, "Shh shh shh," he shushed, "It's alright. You get yourself something to drink and we'll put something silly on the telly, alright?"
Mutely, she nodded.
"Alright then," he agreed, placing his lips to the crown of her head.
Evey smiled. "I like it when you do that."
Finch smirked wryly, "I know."
As soon as he was sure she was out of sight in the kitchen, he grabbed the note and stuck it back in the book. "Maybe you are right," he mumbled lowly to himself, "Maybe I do know," he mused, snapping it shut.
A/N: Be sure to leave a review, I love them! Hope you enjoyed!