Ca va sans Dire
Chapter 9
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V let the hot water pour over his shoulders, pounding away
the aches and clearing the last of the cobwebs from his mind.
covers over the bandages had come loose, he realized as he watched his blood
turn the water pink as it circled the drain before passing into oblivion.
He didn’t care. If he
could have dribbled down with it into the refuge of ancient sewers, he would
have gladly done so.
The thing he feared had happened.
preyed upon Evey’s innocence. This was
why he should have made her leave. This
was why she would leave now.
He stepped out of the shower and began to dry off.
way upon the wrong side of that narrow boundary-line between sanity and
insanity.
Pealing off the water guards was easy.
flank was not. He half wished he had not
bothered with these Tegaderm dressings.
with and they were less bulky than traditional guaze,
but the adhesive was not coming off without a fight.
He had been through this countless times and it was always
this moment when his skin would rather stick to the bandage than to him, V
found himself reconsidering. These
things were designed to protect the fine hair on normal skin.
far too good a job adhering these bandages to his skin making sure they stuck
to ridge and crevice alike. Stupid, that
was. He sighed, shaking his head.
His skin was a poor metaphor for his mental health, but a
fitting one no matter how he disliked it.
Sometimes the demands made upon damaged skin were too great and it broke
open, unable to hold together, like now when all he was doing was peeling off a
bandage. Why could he endure, but never
truly heal?
Finally free of the dressing, V began to address the
reopened wound at his flank and the new smaller tears surrounding it. So far
there were no signs of infection. Of
course, getting wet might have changed that.
He wondered how long it had been since the last time.
his body, when he was easily derailed by fear, pain and anger there had many
similar episodes. So many V had built a
room to take the brunt of his rage and hold the mountainous copies of that damn
pattern which had first grabbed hold of him in Larkhill.
Once the wound was cleaned and glazed in antibiotic
ointment, V considered rewrapping his middle in gauze instead of another film
dressing. It wasn’t as good for the
wound really, so said the research. He
sighed and redressed the bullet hole with more Tegaderm,
telling himself he had to find some more of those adhesive remover pads he had
run out of weeks ago.
V gave himself another glance in the mirror and started
peeling off the bandage on his left shoulder.
He should have seen it coming.
he began thinking about the pattern, he knew he was near the end of it.
to hide it from her. He had thought he
could control it this time, but no. The
rage was too much for him.
Like many other things in V’s life, Evey’s presence cast new
shadows on old habits. The only reasons
the episodes had mattered to him in the past were the time and materials they
cost his vendetta. Once he solved that
problem, they had been something of a release, a brain dump that allowed him to
refocus.
There had been no release this time.
control and scrambling for a way to explain.
Gallery he didn’t know how he would face her.
What could he say?
Why did this have to happen now?
the heart of his darkness?
Why was
such a stupidly easy question to answer. .
. . nothing contributes so
much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose….(8)
He
could think of nothing he wanted to do now and he wondered if there would ever
be anything to fill the void.
God, he
could not face her.
It was
her fault in a way. He wondered if she
understood what she cost him. She
brought him crushing self doubt and an overwhelming sense of impending loss.
alone. He could hope for more than a
martyr’s death and….
Did any of this matter?
She had seen and she would leave.
He would be alone.
Knowing her, she would wait and make him explain himself
before she disappeared forever. He had
barely made it through the eight months she had been gone.
There is still a
chance, he scolded himself, you will
simply have to find a way to explain.
You promised her honesty and you have yet to deliver.
this.
It was easier to face bullets and V let his attention return
to examining his wounds in the mirror.
From his collar bones to his groin he was black and blue.
sting of a bullet even if the breast plate had taken the brunt of the impact.
significant organ? He felt cheated by
good marksmanship and the concept of center mass.
Somewhere out there was a vengeful God with a nasty sense of
humor. And Evey called me a
heartless monster, his thoughts snarled.
Having finished with his wounds, V began the slow and
painful process fo dressing made
no more comfortable by the fact it was the last opportunity to hide.
indefinitely. He would have nothing but
cowardice to blame if he tried to out wait her.
V tied the mask back into place while reminding himself of
one small bright side.
Guy Fawkes, just as inscrutable and mysterious as
ever, who would nod with
home and his life forever.
From the day he met her V had known it would come to
this. He wished he had been strong
enough to leave her behind at BTN. Why
had he subjected himself to this?
Because I love her and
have from the moment I saw her.
Why, when they took nearly everything else, couldn’t they
have taken his heart as well? Why leave
him with the one organ that could continue to torture him?
Cruel irony, that.
Oh God, Evey, how do I
face you?
~~~~~
(7) Mary Elizabeth Braddon – Lady
Audrey’s Secret
(8) Mary
Shelly – Frankenstein
~~~~~
Review Responses:
LittleMissReaper
Nope, I’m not dead yet. I had twin
problems. One was school.
diligent in the weeks leading up to them.
hope of the inspiration. Now I’ve got it
back and I’m taking advantage of it. I’m
afraid posts will come slower than I wanted them to.
Ero Sennin:
I love your reviews! They’re so
thoughtful. I fear there is a lot more
angst to come since V refuses to believe in Evey or himself.
chapter was based on the understanding that it’s always the quiet, unflappable
ones that snap the hardest. Long fuses
seem are balanced by rare incendiary blow ups.
beast is a story about trust.
Feather Touch
Thank you! Here is more for you!
since I’m basically reworking the story.