tampered | Log; Ongoing

When; August 28, night
Rating; PG
Characters; Evey

ever_evey, Valerie

violet_carsons
Summary; Evey fills Valerie in on what she's forgotten in her return to the City.
Log;

The kettle's whistle was shrill, piercing the quiet that had taken hold in Evey's underground home. She pulled it from the burner and turned the stove off, pouring the steaming water into the teapot with a deftness she'd lacked only a year ago. Recalling her disastrous attempt at making tea for Eric Draven's visit the summer before, Evey couldn't help but smile a little--though the memory of the many kitchen lessons that had followed as a result caused a twinge of .

That was why she couldn't stay down here--alone or with Valerie--much longer, she had decided. If she did, she was going to stagnate in her memories of V rather than use what she'd learned from him to do some good, whether here or at home.

The teapot accompanied her over to the couch and Valerie on a silver serving tray, along with cups, sugar, and milk. She set it down on the coffee table and sat next to the other woman.

"I thought I should explain how it is I know who you are," she began. "It's--well, it's a very long story, and I'm not sure what the best way to start it would be, but..."

She took a deep breath. "My husband was in the cell next to yours."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All things considered, Valerie thought this little abode was very lovely. Aside from the underground part- but you couldn't really tell with all the art and flowers everywhere. Even though the walls were stone, it didn't make her thing of her Cell- well, not too much. Really, it was all so fresh in her memory that she could look at the knives in the kitchen and have to clench her jaw.

But it wasn't so bad. And Evey was so terribly nice. But there was something about the way the lady looked at her that Valerie couldn't quite place. And as per usual, when Evey sat down Valerie gave her a quizzical look as she picked up the sugar, waiting for her to continue.

My husband was in the cell next to yours.

She dropped the sugar container.

The minute the words were out of her mouth, she realized it hadn't been quite the right way to go about saying it. It was so hard to remember that Valerie didn't remember, that as far as she could recall, her torture had only ended a few days ago. Shouldn't have been so blunt, should've at least let her get her bloody tea first...

But there really wasn't an easy way to say what she needed to say--even easing into it, it would have been a terrible shock to the woman. Not that that was any comfort when she saw the expression on Valerie's face, of course.

The sugar bowl shattered into dozens of slivers of porcelain, but Evey hardly noticed; her attention was entirely on the woman next to her. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I shouldn't have just--I know it's quite a thing to hear--I didn't say that as well as I could've. But..." You need to know were the words that had died on the tip of her tongue; she suddenly wondered if it wasn't she, Evey, who needed Valerie to hear the story right now.

A number of things flew through Valerie's head at that moment. Question upon question upon assumption upon deleight and for a long moment she just stared, stricken, at this girl before her who knew-- who had been married-- to the person in the cell next to her. Cell number five. Her secret letter. She hardly noticed the porcelain was gone from her hands.

But finally, finally, after an extended and viciously tense pause she choked out, hardly over a whisper--

'He- survived?'

Evey hated the silence that stretched taut between them, worried that it might not break--that perhaps, instead, Valerie would. Having seen V in such states multiple times before, it seemed very possible...and to have caused it by her own words would have been too much to bear.

She let go a breath when Valerie finally did speak once more, visibly relieved.

"Thanks to you, he did," she answered, her voice similarly low. A pause, as she considered her next words. "Your letter, it...he got the world to turn. Like you'd hoped."

Impulsively, she took hold of one of Valerie's hands in both of hers, her gaze never flickering. Evey waited, watching for some outward sign of what was going on within the woman's mind.

Valerie stared. Her expression might have been comical to anyone who might be looking in on them, if such a thing could have happened. But the reason it was so impossible to tell what she was thinking, was because there was absolutely no order to her thoughts. At all. How did she know? He had really survived? It had been a he? He'd escaped? Had the world really turned, got better? Did--

It was so much, trying to think of all of these things at once and it was like she was just out of Larkhill, and her hair was long again and this girl was telling her that she had helped changed the world for the better. And it was all so much that she couldn't say a word. It was overwhelming.

Her fingers twitched against Evey's palm, curling into her-- and she started to cry.

The situation wasn't comical to Evey; watching Valerie, the only member left of what had been her family in the City, attempting to process what she'd been told was a heartwrenchingly serious matter. When her fingers jerked in her grip, gut feeling took over, somehow knowing that tears were coming.

She drew Valerie into a careful hug, holding her as she wept. One of Evey's hands still clasped at hers; the other was a gentle, cautious touch at her back. Well aware both of how long she herself had winced instinctively at the possibilty of sudden contact and of the way her lover had clung to her in his less stable moments, she was prepared for either possibility now.

Log; Ongoing

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