"You should let yourself rest... you haven't slept in over a day."
Eric Finch looked with mild disapproval at the untouched sandwich on the dresser near Evey. Her vigil over the fallen V hadn't ended since they'd returned from Evey's address - as V - to the people of London. It had been hours.
He regarded the young woman who'd talked him into treason, set loose the explosives that destroyed Parliament, and nearly single-handedly averted one of the worst riots London had ever known. She looked so fragile and unraveled here in the half-light, still wearing the remnants of the vigilante's "uniform"; it was amazing she hadn't collapsed already.
Evey looked up into Finch's concerned expression. Huge dark smudges lurked beneath her eyes and her already-ill-fitting clothes were even more rumpled from having been worn too long. "He might wake up again." She glanced over to V, lying motionless and silent once a