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Ca va sans Dire	By : FreeSpiritedOne Category: S through Z > V for Vendetta Views: 4138 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own V for Vendetta. I do not own V, Evey, Finch or any other character. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2
In the bathroom, her mind undistracted, Evey�s
thoughts reverted to worrying and guilt. She had done a very poor job
caring for him. �V had never stopped
breathing, but he had lost a lot of blood. �She hadn�t even bothered to see if the
bleeding had stopped. She hadn�t cleaned the wounds, or figured out how
bad they were. She had offered him no pain killers, no antibiotics (never
mind that she had none on hand) and no blanket. She hadn�t asked a single
relevant question but had instead allowed herself to be derailed by a silly
book. It was just like V to do something like that.
Refusing to fall victim to any more of his
diversionary tactics, Evey set about making tea, locating some clean towels and
a bowl of warm water, and wondering if he would want to eat and whether or not
he should. She made some toast, pulled butter and jam
from the fridge and made her way back toward his room carrying a heaping
tray.
V was not in his bed, but instead leaning
heavily against the door to the attached bathroom.�
She set her tray down on the bed and
sighed. �If you could have waited 10 more seconds I could have helped
you, you know.�
He nodded, �Yes, I know.�
�You don�t want my help?� Evey asked
feeling hurt by his ever present lack of trust and unsure of herself.
She had done all she could to make up for her betrayal. �Would he never forgive her?
The mask came up and she knew he was looking
at her. There were times she hated the infernal mask that let him see
every emotion that flitted across her face but left him impervious to her
scrutiny. She had no way to know what he was thinking but assumed that it
had something to do with caring for himself for 20 years and doing a pretty
good job of it given the circumstances. But when he spoke, rather than
remind her of his self sufficiency, he asked quietly, �Evey, help me to the bed, would you?�
Feeling marginally better, she crossed the
room and stopped in front of him, unsure where she could touch him without
hurting him or getting tangled in the IV tubing that now hung from a mobile pole
and disappeared up his left sleeve.
He put his right arm across her shoulders
and she heard his pained hiss as the mask descended close to her ear. His
other hand grabbed the pole.� He could
not hold his own weight and he leaned heavily against her. �Tall and thin as he was she assumed he was
much lighter, but she got him the 10 steps to the bed without collapsing.
�I need to replace these,� she remarked to
herself about the bloody bed clothes as he sank onto them and pulled the pole
close to the bedside.
�Later, perhaps.� �He leaned
back against the pillows and gave a tired sigh.
Evey was not to be detoured this time. �
�Okay then, tasks at hand. I�ve
brought you some tea and toast, if you think you can manage it. If you go
for the tea you will probably be needing this,� She
held up an empty jug for him to see. �I�ve found a first aid kit and, I�m
afraid, there isn�t a single book in here that will distract me from taking
care of those wounds today. So where shall we start?�
�The, um, jug is very considerate. �Thank you. And kind as it is, I don�t
think I�m up to eating just yet. I�d rather go back to sleep if you don�t
mind.�
Evey wasn�t sure what he had already
accomplished himself since his clothes were clean and there was the IV in his
arm, but she was not going to be dodged if there was anything left to do.� �That�s fine with me after we�ve addressed
those wounds. They can�t wait, V.�
�They haven�t,� he replied lifting his shirt
just a little to reveal a belly wrapped in white gauze. �While you were
in the kitchen I took care of them.�
�All of them?� She asked
wondering if she had really been gone long enough for him to have bandaged his
wounds, changed his clothes and gotten an IV started.
�Yes.�
�Are there any, ah, bullets unaccounted
for?� Evey had watched a crime investigation show where they said there
having to be an even number where bullets were concerned. An entrance and
an exit wound or an entrance and the surgically removed bullet. Either
way, you have an even number. If the number is odd, there is a missing
bullet somewhere.
He held out a gloved hand to her presenting
two mutilated slugs. �Twelve total holes, two dug out bullets.�
Evey did not like this answer.� She was only now considering that even with
an even number of holes there could still be lodged bullets. She
cringed. �You�re sure you got all of them?�
�Yes.�
�You dug them out yourself?� She
asked, her arms had folded over her stomach and her shoulders had rounded down
as if she were protecting herself. Noticing her odd posture she
straightened up and tried to appear more relaxed.
�Yes.� He sighed, sounding as if he were
reliving the experience and not enjoying it.
�Was that wise?�
�Undoubtedly not.�
She snorted, silly man. Moving
past him she entered the bathroom which looked like a crime scene. The water in
the sink was a bloody pink and there were drips and splashes covering the
counter and floor, smears staining two walls and the door handle. His
clothes from the night before lay in a heap in the middle of it, the pox marked
mask sitting atop them looking piteously white in the midst of black and
red. �Oh God, where did you find the strength to do
this?�
Evey had spoken softly but somehow he heard her and
replied, �Where there is a will there is a way.�
She smiled, �That should be your motto.�
�It is.�
~~~~~
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