Chapter 18

V had not returned, the lift was broken, her phone was missing and the diary was sitting accusingly on the coffee table staring at her.  Evey wanted to burn it, but that would destroy the words.  The memories were seared into her.  They would never leave.

Cocooned like a babe in swaddling clothes Evey sat on the couch trying hard not to think at all, but finding it impossible.  Before meeting V she had been able to turn off her mind when she wanted to.  It had been easy to deny the obvious and avoid the painful and the frightening.  Now all she could do was think and if she wasn’t moping in the past she was cowering before an uncertain future. 

You just need to relax.  It was a long time ago.  All of this was a long time ago.  Let it go, she told herself wondering how much of V’s hesitance had been fear of reliving a painful past and how much of it had been a desire to protect her.  She had thought his past would be a lot like hers, worse of course, but not much different.  Some losses suffered, some time in prison, a fire at some point and a retreat from society.  She figured there would be some happy moments from his childhood that he clung to in the same way she did.

It was so much worse than she imagined.  He didn’t even have a childhood.  V had never had an innocent moment.  All he had cruelty, fire, and pain.  No wonder he shielded himself behind layers of clothes and a fortress of knowledge.  He lived beneath and apart from the world because he had no connection to it.  He lived a life without hope. 

Not true, she shook her head.  He had hope, lots of it, just none for himself. 

Suddenly unable to sit still anymore Evey climbed out of her cocoon on the couch and started to pace. 

He had survived on purpose.  His life was a mission.  Perhaps he thought death would be his reward, but in the end when his reward was within reach he had refused it.  She had watched him fight for his life.  He lived for her.

Evey remembered being told there was no greater love than sacrificing your life for a loved one.  What about living?  The choice V made was single bravest thing she had ever heard of.  Who risked so much for a chance at happiness?  How could she possibly live up to a love like that?

“I need something to do,” she said to herself feeling the weight of responsibility starting to drag her down. 

Christmas.  It was Christmas soon.  It didn’t have to be a terrible time of year anymore.  She and V could remake it.  It could be happy again or at least it gave her something else to think about for a while. 

She surveyed the room.  All the hard parts were done.  V had gotten the tree up, hung the garland, and strung all the lights.  He did this to not think about what was coming.  He wanted to hide in a project and he found one that would soften the blow for me.  Always thinking, that man.

He hadn’t finished and she wondered if it was on purpose.  He was smart enough and thoughtful enough to leave her with a project too.  The thought made her smile. 

Evey walked over to the neat pile of boxes, spread them out on the floor, and started opening them. She wondered if he got any mistletoe.  Did not appear to have done.  One Christmas tradition he has to experience, thought Evey.  We need to get some.

VEV

V watched Evey work from a shadow in the hallway.  She was high on a ladder putting ornaments on the uppermost branches of his over-tall tree. 

He half expected her to have left.  He would happily crawl out of his own skin if it meant he could escape the past and its repercussions, but she was standing atop a ladder hanging ornaments while singing Jingle Bells badly.  It was as though nothing had changed. 

“I can feel you watching me other there.  I am on to your tricks.” She said as she hung a beautiful blown glass ornament.

“Then I shall have to learn new ones.” V smiled behind the mask and took a step into the room.

Evey chuckled as she shook her head.  “You have a diabolical need to keep me guessing don’t you?”

You will not be guessing much longer, he silently replied.

Evey slapped a hand over her mouth.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean it like it sounded.  It was meant as a joke.  Some sense of humor I have, right?”

“I enjoy your sense of humor.” V responded as soon as his voice would cooperate.  Seeing her react as she did, V felt he was catching a glimpse of a future were Evey tiptoed around him. 

“Where have you been?”  She asked as she climbed down the ladder.

“I’m sorry to have been gone so long.” 

“It’s okay.”  She said automatically, clearly not wanting to upset him.  She leapt off the last rung of the ladder and looked as if she were about to fly into his arms but thought better of it.  Looking awkward and sheepish she asked, “Did you find a good diversion?”

I don’t want this, V thought.  This is why I did not want to tell you.  One of the reasons at least.  I am not made of glass.  I do not need to be handled like a delicate keepsake.  How do I change this?

“There is no such thing as a diversion is there?”  Evey cut into his thoughts as she stepped toward him slowly. 

He knew she was giving him the space to back away.  How do I change this?  It would be difficult for a while.  Maybe it would always be difficult.  This was new ground for both of them, but, “A man can accustom himself to nearly anything given enough time.” 

Evey reached for his hand and when he took hold of hers she closed the gap and hugged him. Leaning against him she asked, “So this is just how it is, all the time inside your head?”

V’s free hand made its way into her short hair and he wished he wasn’t wearing gloves.  “Where would I escape, Evey?” 

She pushed back and looked up at him.  Her brown eyes were serious as she offered, “You could escape in me.” 

V shook his head.  “A lovely thought, but you can be responsible for no ones happiness but your own.  To take on the burden of mine would destroy yours.”

She searched his face, the impregnable mask, as if there was something she had missed.  Soon she would know what lurked behind the façade.  V’s stomach flip-flopped and he had to work hard to suppress a reflexive jerk backwards as her hand reached up and touched an apple red cheek.

“I kind of think it’s a fair trade.  I found strength in you.  You can find some joy in me.”

“I have, Evey.”  V replied, taking her hand away from the mask, not yet ready to give up the safety of its camouflage.  He put his arms around her and held her tightly for a long moment as he tried to control his emotions.  It proved too much and he had to step back.

In the space of a few feet he was able to reclaim his grip on himself and was humiliated by his weakness.  He wanted to run again to find his center in the solitude he had adjusted to long ago, but she was so close.  Everything he wanted was so close.  He risked a glance at her.  She wasn’t looking at him.  Instead her attention was turned toward the tree. 

With her back still turned she said, “We’re going to be okay, V.” 

It was too much.  Run.  Get out.  For a moment the walls closed in and his adrenaline kicked up to fight or flight, but then she turned and faced him. 

“We will get through this.  It will be okay.  I promise.”

Confidence seemed to waft off her like perfume.  She was so certain, so strong.  V took a deep breath and focused on his heart rhythm willing it to slow.  Contain the pain.  Hold it, force it down, save it for later.  I don’t want to save it anymore.  What use does it serve now?  Let it go.  How? 

“V, I can’t reach to put the topper on.  Would you help me?”

As it always had, his mind quieted with purpose.  Looking at the tree he nodded, “I would be happy to.”

VEV

They finished the decorating too quickly.  There was not much left to do.  The second they were done Evey could feel him spinning off again so she asked him to cook leaving him alone knowing he would eat while he cooked if she wasn’t there to see him do it.  V was always at his best when he had something to do.  She needed to come up with more things to keep him occupied until he was more comfortable.

“Your supper, madam.” He said as he held a plate in front of her.  When she took it he sat beside her.

“You want to watch a movie?  I have “A Christmas Carol”.”  Evey had fond memories of watching it with her brother as a child and had found it in a car boot sale.  She had also picked up a copy of “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas”.

“Which version?”  V asked, sounding interested.

“Mickey Mouse.”  Evey had not seen any of the other versions.  She’d never even read the book.

V leaned back into the couch seat making himself comfortable.  “I’ve not seen it.” 

Evey only half paid attention to the film as she ate.  She had loved it as a child, but thinking back on those days when she and Johnny watched it together she found her eyes begin to well up.  She blinked hard and then glanced at V.  He had no childhood memories.  She could not even picture him as a child and wondered what it had been like.  He had to have seen the film before.  There wasn’t a child in western civilization who had not.  She wondered if he would remember them the same way he remembered how to tie his shoes.  She hoped he did.  As the closing credits rolled Evey asked, “Did you like it?”

“I have always loved the book.  I find it necessary to remind myself from time to time.”  V replied as he turned off the television.

“Of what?” 

He put the remote down on the coffee table as he said, “Not to allow bitterness to govern me, to remember we can all rise above selfish instinct and use what we have been given for the betterment of others.”

He saw the story as a cautionary tale.  Evey did not and pointed out the difference.  “So Scrooge is your guide.  Tiny Tim is mine.”

“Really, why?”

She had resisted throughout the film, but the urge to lean against him was strong.  He had sat far away informing her he did not want to be touched and she had obliged him.  Looking at him, seated so near and yet so far, she decided he had had enough space and laid down on the sofa with her head in his lap.  He shifted under her, but only to achieve a more comfortable position.  Smiling Evey tried to remember the topic of conversation.

They were talking about Tiny Tim.  Picking up where she had left off, Evey answered.  “Because his circumstances were terrible, but his attitude was always positive and in the end it worked out for him.”

A gloved hand began to massage the back of her skull.  “The perspectives vary but the lesson is the same.  Do you think you are like Tiny Tim?”

“I try to be.”  Evey replied wishing for once V would take off his gloves and touch her with his bare hands. 

“Ah.  And I try not to be Scrooge.  Perhaps you have made the wiser choice in role models.”

A thoughtful silence descended between them.  V continued to rub her scalp, the motion of his hands bringing back memories from times long past.  She would lounge in her mother’s lap and let her brush her hair.  Those were the last serene moments of her life.  Sadness made her feel heavy and tears began to well again.

You will not cry.  Stop it.  You have cried enough to last several lifetimes.  Suck it up and move on.  You are loved again.  Better, you are cherished, she reminded herself, trying with all her might to let go of the past and embrace the future.  She had mourned enough.  Let them go, Evey.

Finding letting go easier said than done, she said, “I brought some other films.  Do you want to watch another?”

V sighed.  “No, Evey.  I thank you for the interlude, but we are not quite finished.”

“Oh Jesus V, there’s more?”  Evey complained, wondering where the delay between thought and speech had gone.  Every thought in her head seemed to pop out her mouth without any filtering. 

V shifted under her again and his hand stopped its gentle massage.  Turning a little Evey could see it resting on the sofa arm and felt sure under its black leather façade his knuckles were white.  “You have spent the day alone with your thoughts.  Perhaps you have questions?”

“Now?”  It seemed only moments ago he had been on the verge of emotional collapse and unwilling to deal in the past anymore. 

“There is no time like the present, my dear.”

There was nothing Evey wanted to do less than dredge up anymore ugliness.  Her heart could not take it.  “I really don’t…”

“Evey, please.”  He paused and the muscles under her head tensed. 

He is trying so hard.  Pull it together, Evey.  She could not.  Despair engulfed her like a chill fog.  You cannot undo the past, but you can look to the future, God damn it.  Grow up!

A hand touched down on her shoulder in a gentle attempt to comfort her. He’s comforting you.  Do you have any idea how pathetic this is?  Selfish idiot.  Is this really all you’re made of?  Nothing but fluff and fair weather.  God, you do not deserve to be loved by a man like this.  Grow the fuck up!  Now!

As she tried to gather herself, V tried again, “This is difficult, I know, but…”

“What happened to the bitch that did this?”  The words tumbled out of her mouth as she sat up and turned around to face him.

“She died.”

Duh, V.  “Yes, I assumed as much.”

VEV

V understood her anger, but knew if left unchecked, it would consume her and change her into someone neither of them would recognize.  Their starting point was the same, but their paths had to be different.  Where he had torn down, she had to build.  How to make her see this?

The beginning was always a good place to start.  “I hated her once too, but before my vendetta was complete my life was changed and with it my perspective.  I became aware of how consumed by a goal a person can become.”

“You’re nothing like her.”  Evey snarled.

V shifted in his seat to better face her.  She had to understand the point he was about to make.  “That is a matter of perspective. I had you to remind me the path is as important as the destination.  Delia was not so fortunate.  She thought she followed in the footsteps of Oppenheimer who said, ‘There must be no barriers for freedom of inquiry. There is no place for dogma in science. The scientist is free, and must be free to ask any question, to doubt any assertion, to seek for any evidence, and to correct any errors.’  Oppenheimer was not advocating the liberties she took, but surely you can see how such an argument could be twisted to justify her research.”

Evey was staring at her hands and picking at her cuticles, clearly unwilling to entertain his line of reasoning.

V pressed on, “She became the Mengele of our age without realizing it.  Her fate was sealed the day she decided some humans were not people.  Like Oppenheimer, it was only after her work was concluded and used by the organization that sponsored it she realized what she had done.  Both thought they created the ultimate weapon which, through fear of global destruction, would effectively rid the planet of war.  When St. Mary’s was released she finally saw how she had been used.  That realization destroyed Diane Stanton and gave birth to Delia Surridge.”

Evey raised her head and glared at him.  “The bitch changed her name so she could pretend she was someone else?  Pretend she didn’t do what she did?”

V chose his words carefully, watching Evey’s eyes for any hint of misunderstanding.  “Unlike the others who shamelessly profited from Larkhill, Delia took her sins to heart.  She never again set foot in a lab or worked with a living subject.  She became a pathologist and spent the rest of her life as an advocate for the dead.  She owned shares in Viadoxic, the company which gave us the cure, but never touched a single cent.  She didn’t have friends, rarely saw her family and lived in isolation.  Justice demanded her blood, for me, for Valerie, for the others victimized by her work, but in many ways she was already dead.”

Silence descended as V waited for her to engage him.  She needed the chance to process what he had said without interference.  The conclusion she came to might be manipulated by his choice of words, but it had to feel like her own. 

The cuticle on her left thumb began to bleed.  She watched it for a while and then began picking at it again, increasing the size of the wound.  V wondered if he should stop her.  Just as he decided to reach for her hands her head popped up and she asked, “Who are Oppenheimer and Mengele?”

“Oppenheimer headed the team that developed the atom bomb at the end of World War II.  Mengele was a Nazi doctor at Auschwitz.  He did a wide range of gruesome experiments on prisoners there during his tenure.”  V responded wishing that young people were taught more history.  Why did no one see how vital such study was?  His mind chased the tangential thought for a time while Evey sucked on her bleeding thumb. 

Finally she asked, “V, where do you suppose they got St. Mary’s from anyway?” 

He had wondered the same thing.  “Perhaps it was like AIDs or Ebola and lurked in a jungle somewhere until deforestation gave it freedom.  Perhaps they developed it in a lab.  We will never know.”

There was another pause in the conversation.  V watched her, noting the changes in her posture and countenance as her mood slowly changed.

When she looked at him again her eyes were clearer.  She was thinking more logically.  “You said you hated her at first.  Does that mean you don’t hate her now?”

They were heading in the right direction now.  He chose his words carefully not wanted to derail her thought progress, “I hate what she did.  She had somehow convinced herself what she was doing would be to the benefit of mankind.  Her subjects were simply collateral damage.  We were the unfortunate few whose sacrifice would change the world.”

“So she was delusional.”  The words were angry but her tone was thoughtful.

V shook his head.  “She believed so deeply in her cause nothing else mattered.  Sound familiar?”

She paused to consider and then turned a wane smile on him.  “But you had me.”

There you go, V thought, pleased by the progress they were making.  “Yes, Evey.  I had you.”

“I still hate her.  I hate all of them.  I will always hate them.”

“If you try to conserve your rage, you will be eaten alive by it, but if you can direct it, you can use it and when it is finally exhausted, perhaps you will be able to look back on something you can be proud of.”  V told Evey what he had often had to tell himself.

“I understand.” She nodded.

“You usually do.” V replied, making a show of yawning.  He was tired but there was one final hurdle to leap before the past could be returned to its proper place.

She picked up on it.  “You tired?”

“How can you tell?”

“I might not be able to see you yawning, but I can hear it.  There is only so much you can hide back there, you know.”  She teased.

“This is true.”  V agreed.  It was time.

She stood and held out a hand to him, “I’m ready for bed.  You coming?”

VEV

Evey wasn’t sure if V would let her join him in bed.  He rose when she did but did not immediately follow.  After a pit stop in the loo, Evey saw the lights were off in the living areas.  Turning her attention down the hall to V’s room she could see the dim glow of candlelight through the half open door and in a flash she understood what was coming. 

She hesitated, unsure of herself. 

He is going to show me his body, she thought.  He is going to literally strip himself naked and expect me to… 

“Shit.”

I really need to stop cursing.  I’m starting to sound like a sailor and I’ve never even been on a boat, she scolded herself, still staring pensively at his bedroom door. 

You have already seen him naked.  What’s the big deal?

It wasn’t really about her seeing though.  He knew she had seen.  It was about him seeing her looking at him.   V had told her before how expressive her eyes were.  He said it was one of the things he loved about her.  She was an open book to him and it was her eyes he read.  Whatever she thought when she looked at him, he would know it instantly. 

Evey was glad she had spent so much time researching burns and that she had already seen him once.  All he would see what love…she hoped.

With each step she took toward the door her trepidations grew.  She had seen events unfolding more slowly.  She figured he would want to take his time, a little at a time.  It had not occurred to her that he really would try to get it all over with at once.  Maybe he thought she expected it this.

At the door she knocked at the same time she said, “You don’t have to do this.  I didn’t realize what I was really asking.  I wasn’t expecting things to go this fast and I feel terrible for doing this to you.”

“You’ve done nothing to me, Evey.  You pointed out a flaw in my reasoning, something you seem to be quite good at, and I understand I risk more in silence than I do in trust.”  His voice was muffled coming through the thick wooden door.

“I love you.”  She said, feeling like chicken little as she did so.  Suck it up!  Say the words all you want, he won’t believe it until he sees it.  Go show him!

VEV

V breathed in deep, expanding his lungs until he felt like his chest would burst from the strain and held it for a second.  Then he released, pushing hard bending over with the effort to clear all the air from his body.  He repeated the action several times knowing that with each forced exhalation he reclaimed more of the inner serenity needed to do what he was about to do. 

“Come in please.” V said, wishing she had taken a little longer in the loo.

He was in front of a full length mirror, one that he almost never looked in unless fully dressed to make sure nothing was amiss with his clothes before headed to the surface. 

The door’s ancient hinges creaked as it opened and V could see her reflected in the mirror behind him.  The expression on her face was not what he expected.  The worst case scenario was as the layers came off she would be unable to look at him, the hideous ruin of his flesh too much for her to see.  The best case, as V saw it, was Evey would be curious.  Curiosity would indicate an open mind that with time might be able to see past the damage.  But the look on her face was neither.  Instead he saw…lust? 

Surprised, V let his gaze move away from her to his image in the mirror.  He tried to see what she was seeing.  He was encased in a black body suit, his second skin.  She had seen it before.  In the candlelight the soft sheen of the fabric picked up the light and the barely covered layers of muscle below were clearly outlined.  He looked at her face again.  Her eyes were wandering over him now, appreciative. 

A new wave of self consciousness washed over him and he fought the urge to cover himself only half succeeding in controlling his arms as one of them refused to stay at his side and battled his will awkwardly across his stomach. 

Unable to stand the silence anymore, V said, “After the fire I spent two years wearing pressure garments for all but an hour a day.  Burn scars contract as they mature and they were not certain how my new skin would heal.”  He sighed, remembering. “I never saw the man that existed before the fire.  Instead garments like this one became my skin and I learned to see myself as a creature of smoke and shadow.  Old habits die hard, and I continue to view this as my skin though I know it is not.”

Evey said nothing and remained in the doorway.  Bad signs in his mind but her gentle, interested expression had not changed. 

V waited for a few seconds, wondering if she would say something or not.  When it became clear she would not he lost control of his arms and they folded over his chest and his shoulders hunched forward as if collapsing in on themselves.  He tried another deep breath to regain control and, finding he still had some, continued telling her what he felt he had to in order to prepare her for what he would soon reveal. 

“Of course, beneath this there is tissue that holds all the visceral bits in and bacteria out, but beyond serving this purpose it cannot be called skin.”

She still said nothing but Evey moved up behind him, stopping near him but not touching.  She was watching him in the mirror with love reflecting in her eyes.

That could change.

V continued, clinically explaining the damage she would soon witness.  “I have third degree burns over ninety percent of my body.  The rest was largely subjected to second degree burns.  That I walk, talk, see, hear, taste, feel or retain all the various extremities that most burn patients lose are anomalies.  I have vastly exceeded the expectations of those who cared for me.  If I owe my survival to a preexisting genetic mutation or to Delia’s experimentation, I don’t know.  I know simply I should not be as I am.” 

As he was speaking she came closer and V watched in the mirror as a hand reached out for him slowly, projecting Evey’s intention and giving him time to move away from the coming contact if he wanted to.  V forced himself to stay still, but could not control the flinch that accompanied the warm pressure of her palm on his back.

Her expression changed as her face disappeared behind his back.  There as sadness in her eyes.  But not pity, not yet. 

Her voice came softly from behind him as she said, “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve suffered.”

Evey’s hand moved up from the center of his back to his shoulder. There was power in her grip as if she were silently telling him that she would give him strength as he needed it.

“The world is full of suffering; it is also full of over coming it.” [19] He said as he uncrossed his arms and laid a hand over hers stopping its drift down his arm. 

“That’s it then?  Always a positive attitude?” 

Her fingers curled around his and began to gently massage his gloved hand.  She had done that before on several occasions while they watched a film back in the early days when she was afraid and he was not.  How the tables had turned. 

V shrugged. “Clearly not.  However, I try to remember we are not simply constructs of genetics and environment.  It is our attitude that defines us, as the film tonight reminded us.  Some days I am more successful than others.”

Evey stepped back from him and pulled on his hand, trying to lead him away from the mirror.  “Come to bed.”

V was willing to do almost anything to avoid what was to come, but he had started.  He would finish, though he preferred to rest in her arms where there would be no nightmares, no spinning thoughts, no worries, just the soft scent and delicate weight of her body anchoring him to the present and lulling him to slumber.  If he continued he might never experience it.  If he stopped he would not deserve to.  “We are not finished here.”

Clearly she wanted to argue but she held her tongue.  “Okay.”

“True realism consists in revealing the surprising things which habit keeps covered and prevents us from seeing. [20]  Excuse me a moment.” V said, the mask dipping down to her ear and brushing the side of her face as he stepped past her to the bath.

Stripping out of the body suit was a much like removing a wetsuit only more difficult and less graceful.  Though he intended to walk out naked and get the entire thing over with in one shot, V had also hedged his bets by bringing a long dressing gown and other concealment options into the bath.

The robe was tempting.  Extremely tempting.

Be quick about it, V chided himself.  Get this over with already.

He reached for the door handle but could not bring himself to pull it open. 

Instead he caught his own eye in the over sink mirror and turned away reflexively.  He had spent too much time communing with mirrors of late.  He knew what he would see, knew it was not pretty and hated he was about to show it to Evey, but he had told himself if she made it past his history he would show her his present. 

Guy Fawkes was still the face he presented to the world and would present to Evey for now, likely forever since he doubted he would be able to take it off.  He wanted to believe she would get past the ugly surface and remember what she liked underneath it, but could not be certain.

V shook his head.  She had already seen.  The surprise was his alone.  He tried to look at himself objectively, like a doctor looking over a patient.

He had healed well given the circumstances.  The scarring was worst on his back where V had taken the brunt of the explosive gases.  He reached a hand around his torso and touched the thickened skin along his spine.  Rough and smooth, like a river rock only partially worn down by the water running over it. 

His hand pulled back around his waist over his belly where the scarring was less and the texture not as jarringly abnormal.  He let his eyes travel further south, to areas hardly scarred at all.  He remembered those burns, second degree and horrifically painful.  Miraculously functional, like all the other appendages the fire failed to claim.  Evey had seen this too.   

V would not surprise her.  He would not shock her.  She had seen before and she had stayed.  It would be okay. 

VEV

[19] Helen Keller

[20] Jean Cocteau

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