Disappear, a lxg fanfic

Rodney Skinner couldn't see his own hand in front of his face. Of course, that would have been true even if he hadn't been concussed in a pitch black room, a situation that he was less than tickled to find himself in. He tried to remember how he had gotten here, but could remember nothing after bidding the League farewell and leaving for his day off. He supposed the apparent blow to the head might have had something to do with that.

Idly, he wondered how long he'd been in... wherever he was. He had no way of finding out until somebody came in, hopefully with something to eat or drink. It was probably less than a day, he supposed, as he hadn't been rescued yet - and that was certainly going to be humiliating, if he didn't manage to escape first. He tried to sit up but failed, partially because of the dizziness and partially because the chains attached to his arms and legs weren't long enough to allow that kind of movement. The clank of metal on metal must have alerted the guard to his current state of consciousness, because not thirty seconds later, someone turned the light on. Skinner shut his eyes against the sudden glare - and a fat lot of good that did, for an invisible man - and looked to his right, where the door happened to be. The door was old and wooden, and had no locks - only a latch. Either these people were stupid or extremely confident that he wouldn't escape. He had no time to decide which group they fell into before the door opened, admitting someone Skinner thought he'd never see again. "Dorian Grey," he said. "Mina said she killed you."

"And she may well have thought she did," Dorian said. "After all, I faded to dust before her eyes. A moment later, I woke up back here."

"Shame, that."

"Indeed," Dorian said. "For you. You see, Mina showed me my painting, thus ending my immortal life." Dorian walked around Skinner, fiddling with something in his pocket. "Although I still have a mortal life to live, I am rather... put out at her, and at the rest of the League."

Skinner had been feeling less and less confident as he watched Dorian walk around and monologue. He had an odd gleam in his eyes, the kind Jekyll often got before they had to take the Hyde formula away. Dorian wanted something, wanted it bad, and Skinner had a feeling it wouldn't be something he was willing to give. "What do you want, Grey," he said, uncharacteristically serious.

"I find myself in a rather unusual position of having nothing to gain from this adventure, Mr. Skinner. All I want is revenge. Let's begin, shall we? I think we'll start with something my mother told me never to do," he said, pulling out the box of matches from his pocket and striking one against the wall. He held the lit match over Skinner's bare chest. "Let's play with fire."

"I found him," Tom Sawyer shouted up the ramp of the Nautilus. "Drunk as a skunk and smelling twice as bad, but he's all right."

Mina Harker, thankful for the warning, covered her nose with her handkerchief before walking down to give Tom a hand with the invisible man. "Why, Mr. Skinner," she said. "What has happened to your hat?"

He raised his hand to touch his head. "I lost it!" he said, blearily amazed.

"Never mind," Tom said. "We'll get you a new one after you sober up and take a bath." The invisible man stumbled. "Easy there! You don't want to fall overboard!"

They walked into the parlour, passing by Dr. Jekyll on the way. "Ah, I see you've found our elusive Mr. Skinner," Captain Nemo said. "Come, my friend. Regale us with tales of your extra day in London."

"Oh, there's nothing to tell."

"Well there must be something interesting," Tom said, grinning. "After all, I found you sitting in an alley outside a bar with a half-empty bottle of scotch in your hand. Did you win too many games of pool or too few?"

"Too few. And now I'm drunk and cold and smelly, but at least I've not been left behind." The invisible man wandered over to the fireplace, where the fire was crackling merrily. He stretched out his hands towards the warmth. "It's cold as Mongolia out there," he said. The room fell eerily silent. Upon noticing, the invisible man looked over his shoulder at the League. "What?"

"You are not who you claim to be," Nemo said, drawing his sword.

The invisible man darted away from the fire, shedding Skinner's coat and throwing a knife each towards Nemo and Tom. Mina grabbed the knife headed towards Tom at the same time that Nemo parried the one that had been thrown at him. Mina then dropped the blade, hissing and grabbing her hand, which was smoking - the knife had been dipped in Holy Water. The door opened and closed, and they heard footsteps running down the hall. They then heard a crash and some heavy footsteps, followed by a thunderous knock at the parlour door. Tom opened the door to reveal Edward Hyde, holding a struggling invisible man, partially covered by a rug.

"I thought Skinner said he'd wear clothes on the ship," Edward said.

"He did," Tom said. "That's not Rodney."

"Huh. I knew he smelled funny. Good thing I convinced Henry to let me out." He brought the invisible man closer to his face. "So who is this? Sanderson Reed?"

"Who?" said the invisible man.

"Now is not the time for games," Mina said, snarling as she cradled her injured hand. "What is your name, you disgusting creature?"

"Rodney Skinner."

"I doubt that," Nemo said. "The chances of two invisible men sharing the same name and background are extraordinarily low."

"Maybe so, but I swear by the air I'm breathing, right now, my name really is Rodney Skinner."

"What was your name before that?"

The invisible man looked at Tom in surprise. "How did you-"

"I seen something similar before. You see a lot in the secret service."

The invisible man was silent for a while and then said, "I don't remember. He didn't give me a name until now."

"Boy-"

"Ease up, there, Edward. He's been through enough without you adding a broken arm to the mix."

"I don't understand," Mina said. "This is the man who has captured or possibly killed Rodney Skinner-"

"No," Tom said. "That man is far more dangerous. This is just the man who was sent to take his place."

"You... have ash... on your face," Skinner wheezed while Dorian was reaching into his pocket for yet another box of matches.

Dorian gave a noncommittal hum. "Skinner, have you figured out why I took you first?" he asked, wedging a lit match between Skinner's toes.

"Because... you're a... psychopath?"

Dorian lit another match and held it up to the bottom of Skinner's foot. "It's because no one would notice if you went missing. After all, who would be surprised if an invisible thief disappeared onto the streets of London and was never seen again? They would blame every unsolved crime on you, from pick pocketing to murder, and nothing could fully convince your friends that it wasn't true. You won't even be able to tell them the truth, when I send you back broken."

Skinner shuddered and didn't try to talk. He hurt everywhere Grey had burned him, which was everywhere. Closing his eyes or looking away didn't help, because Grey would force him to watch if he noticed, and the pain still came anyway if he didn't. To make matters worse, all the time while Grey was torturing him the bugger hadn't shut up. He hadn't learned a lot that could help him. Grey's ramblings had all been along the same lines, lines that Skinner felt could be summarized in two sentences. Grey had become interested in the human mind and how it can withstand pressure over eighty years ago. He had come to the conclusion that everybody breaks.

"There are no exceptions, he used to say. Everybody breaks, unless they die first." The invisible man, who they had taken to calling Roger (for no reason at all, besides it seeming right), shivered and drew closer to the fire. "Hardly anybody dies first these days, he's had so much practice. Still, the amount of practice he's had doesn't keep some people from shattering. Lucky devils, them that shatter. Mostly he puts them out of their misery, unlike those of us he could put back together." Mina poured hot water into the teapot, and Roger flinched as though he had been struck.

"He used water, didn't he? Only water." said Tom. Roger hesitated, then nodded. "Then I didn't see something similar, I think I saw the same thing. I know he wouldn't let you know his true name, but did he call himself Elemental?" Roger nodded again, more quickly than last time. "He used water and then he sent you onto a boat?"

"I don't think he liked you very much," Jekyll said.

"Probably less than Mr. Hyde did," Roger conceded,rubbing his arm. "But more than he likes your friend. I've been among the... the recruitment parties with Elemental before, and most of the time he was just... indifferent. Mr. Skinner... he hated Mr. Skinner."

"I must admit, Mr. Skinner, I did have an additional reason for taking my revenge upon you first, aside from the sheer ease. Do you want to know what it was?" Skinner didn't reply until Dorian pressed a glowing coal into his hand, and then his reply was a pained moan. "It was because you irritated me, even more than the American brat. I know - now - that you led the League to Moriarty's stronghold, which led to the loss of my immortality, but it was more than that." Grey picked up a handful of the hot coals and started throwing them at Skinner to puncture his words. "It was your clothing, your manner of speech, your idiotic greasepaint and above all, the fact that Moriarty didn't even try to make you the spy instead of me. For all you claimed to be a gentleman thief, your past was just as black as..." Grey trailed off upon realizing that Skinner had stopped responding. He checked for a pulse, which was weak but decidedly there, and then opened the door. An old woman and a middle-aged man cowered there. "Clean that up," Grey snapped. "I expect to be able to continue in the morning."

Seeing Roger with the paint on his face, Tom was half-surprised he'd mistaken him for Skinner in the first place. Roger was a thin man, a fact compounded by his obvious malnourishment. His eyes, while still being invisible, managed to give off the impression of beadiness, in the same way Skinner's invisible eyes seemed cheekily friendly. Most telling, of course, was the fact that Roger was a foot taller than Skinner. But all of that was in the past now, and they needed to focus on the information Roger could give them about Elemental and his complex.

"There are four parts of the complex, one for each of the elements: earth is underground, air is a tower, and fire and water are on the ground floor. Your friend will probably be in the fire wing, because of Mongolia, but it might be safest to check them all. When he's there and not in one of the wings, Elemental can generally be found in the middle, where his parlour is. He'll have some of us broken people guarding all of the entrances. If anyone sees you, shoot them - the worst you can do is kill them, but Elemental might break them all over again." Roger yawned. "They know it, too, which is why they'll follow his orders to the letter. I can show you the entrance the-" Roger yawned again. "-the recruitment parties use whenever he brings anybody new in, but no one knows what doors he uses otherwise." Roger yawned a third time, and slumped over in his seat, asleep.

The League jumped up in amazement - all but Tom, who had finished cleaning his Winchester and was now putting it back together. Tom turned calmly to Nemo and asked, "Is there anywhere we can put him that's comfortable, but secure?"

"What did you do?" asked Mina.

"I put one of Skinner's sleeping pills in his tea," he said.

"Why?"

"The American Secret Service has had run-ins with Elemental three times in the past. The first one killed a Senator. The second one was stopped in time. We thought the third one had been stopped too, until he led two of our best agents into a trap, which killed one of them. He knew enough about the League to get Skinner - he must have known I knew about his methods."

"You feel his information cannot be trusted?" Nemo said.

"No, he probably was telling the truth about Elemental's complex. Just not about how many would be waiting for us when we got there."

"So it's a trap."

"Yup."

"And yet you intend to lead us in anyway."

"Well, Skinner's already caught in it. If it was any of us, he'd be part of the rescue party same as me. Besides, we already know it's a trap - that gives us the advantage."

It was dark in the room Skinner was being held in again, and it smelled odd. Instead of fearing the darkness this time, Skinner was glad of it. It meant that Grey didn't know he was awake yet, after all, didn't it? After all, for the past three days, Grey'd turned on the lights before starting in on his... lessons for the day. Of course, Skinner thought as the door opened, it could also mean that Grey didn't need the light for whatever he'd planned that day. He'd been lowered to the floor while he was out, but he recognized Grey's silhouette even so. "Come to bore me to death again, Grey?" Skinner said, more bravely than he felt. He'd decided to use Sawyer's method - sheer bravado - to withstand Grey. It worked for Sawyer, after all, and being chained to the floor more or less negated any natural advantages that Skinner had over him. "I know you wanted torture," Skinner continued, "but forcing me to listen to your dulcet tones all day is just cruel, even for you."

Dorian Grey didn't say a word at first; he merely stared down malevolently at his prisoner and ex-team mate. Eventually, he took a box of matches out of his pocket - again - and said, "It appears, Mr. Skinner, that our time will be cut short. Your League has discovered my trick sooner than I would have liked, and are on their way here as we speak."

"Shame, that," Skinner said, allowing himself a triumphant smile.

"Indeed," Grey said, not breaking his gaze... "For you. You see, I cannot allow you to leave here alive and unbroken. I have a reputation to uphold, after all. It's a shame; I should have liked to watch you destroy the League from the inside out. I suppose watching them discover your charred corpse will have to do." Grey struck a match. At that moment, Skinner realized just what the strange smell in the room was - kerosene. "Goodbye, Mr. Skinner," said Grey as he dropped the lit match on the floor and closed the door. "It's been a pleasure." Dorian Grey walked away, smiling to himself as Skinner screamed.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen waited just behind the tree line outside of the castle Grey had turned into his torturer's paradise. The only distinguishing factor that separated it front any other English castle was the height of the tower, at least from an ordinary man's perspective, and even that was not much taller than the norm. The only other thing that Tom and Nemo found unusual was the feeling of darkness that seemed to emanate from the castle. "So this is Elemental's 'complex'," Nemo said.

"I don't like this place," Mina said. "It reeks of fear, and despair... and death."

"A much finer bouquet than even London at its darkest," Hyde agreed with a dark smile. "But even I don't like hearing Skinner scream like that."

"If you can hear him scream," said Tom, "Then you can lead us to where he is."

"Can you see anyone guarding the door?"

"No, but that might not mean anything. He has Griffin's formula, after all. Mrs. Harker, can you smell anyone there?"

"Two," she said. "Just inside, and on either side of the doors."

"Alright. Does everybody know the plan?" Everyone nodded. "Then let's get to work."

The four of them rushed at the doors, Hyde easily pulling ahead and battering them open, which knocked the two guards unconscious. Mina, upon seeing that her help wasn't needed, flew up to the top of the tower, to come at them from a different angle. Nemo, for once having accepted the offer of a pistol, checked behind them, while Tom watched ahead for more shooters, picking off three while they raced towards the source of the screaming. They found it in a room with four tapestries, depicting earth, water, fire and air. It was a phonograph.

"Well, if it isn't the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen."

The three of them spun to find the source of the voice, which was coming from a brass tube. "Elemental, I presume."

"Quite right, Agent Sawyer."

"Too scared to face us?"

"I'm not stupid enough to face you all at once. I know well what you are capable of."

"Where's Skinner?"

"Your invisible man lives - for now, at least. He should last at least another five minutes," he said doubtfully. "As it stands, I find England is no longer conducive to my... research, so I will be leaving. Perhaps I'll go to America, or India, or France, or possibly Transylvania. I understand there is a recently vacated castle there that would be perfect for my purposes."

"There is nowhere you can go that will be too far for us."

"Perhaps. But you will not be leaving here alive. There are men who you might describe as good men dying in each wing of my complex. One of them is Mr. Skinner. I suggest you act quickly, before the bombs go off."

Dorian smiled as he stepped away from his end of the speaking tube. Claiming that there were other men dying in the complex had been his idea all along, but the lie about the bombs had been a stroke of genius. Nemo, according to the scrambling orders the American idiot had given, would be going to water, while Hyde would look underground, and Mina would search the tower. That meant that he would be facing Sawyer himself. Excellent - exactly as he had hoped.

Barely two minutes later, he heard frantic footsteps in the hallway. "Skinner!" Sawyer shouted, opening the door to the invisible man's room - or possibly tomb, by now. Sawyer swore softly under his breath. Grey grinned and readied his pistol as silently as he could. "He really did a number on you." The clanking in the other room indicated that Sawyer had gotten the chains off.

"T... Trap," Skinner wheezed, his voice hoarse from screaming and from breathing in smoke. "Grey."

"Easy now. What's grey?"

"I believe," Dorian said, stepping into view, "that Mr. Skinner was referring to me."

"Oh," said Tom.

"So you were Elemental all along, after all," Tom said, eying Grey warily. "You know, this makes six I owe you for. If you'd give me a pistol, I'd gladly pay you back."

"Bold words, coming from a man with a gun at his head. It fits with everything I know about Americans."

"Yeah, we're a brave bunch."

"That isn't what I was referring to. Regardless, I must say that I am glad that you were the one to come and face me, Agent Sawyer. I can now deal with the second most irritating member of the League, and leave Mr. Skinner alive - long enough to break him completely, if any of your team mates manage to survive, or just until I am sure of their deaths. Slide your weapon over to me, if you please."

Tom complied. "You won't be able to just walk out of here, Grey, even if you and your men manage to kill us all. If you give yourself up, we can try to get a lenient punishment for you."

"Really? How very... quaint. How did you think you were going to find some non-lenient punishment for a man such as myself?"

"We'd figure something out."

"Hm. Open casket or closed, Agent Sawyer?"

"I think we'll try closed," a deep voice rumbled behind Grey. He spun around and came face to face with Nemo and Hyde.

"Mina couldn't make it?"

"She must be enjoying herself."

"Ah," said Grey, and then, raising his voice. "Execute plan four."

"You think we didn't already take care of your guards on the way in?" said Hyde, before flinching as a bullet took out a portion of the wall near his head.

"You think I didn't have others?" Grey said, before turning back to Tom and Skinner. Or rather, where Tom and Skinner had been. Grey hadn't expected them to be able to move so quickly, or so quietly. No matter. He was blocking the only entrance and there were only so many shadows in which Tom and Skinner could be hiding. He sniffed around the room, found the direction in which the smell of burnt flesh was strongest, and fired a single shot.

The ensuing cry of pain was American, which Grey thought was for the best. Skinner had little strength left, and would cause no trouble. Besides, killing Sawyer, or at least incapacitating him, had been his goal before this little... hiccup had occurred. He listened to the battle outside. It sounded like his men were... losing. Well, nobody could have predicted Nemo using a gun; it was completely unprecedented, and he'd plan for that possibility in the future. He considered the American and the invisible man for a moment, and looked at the two guns in his hands, before deciding on the pistol.

Seconds after the last henchman had fallen - unconscious or dead, Hyde neither knew nor cared - Sawyer was forcibly thrown out of the room Grey and Skinner were in. In the back of Hyde's mind, Jekyll noted, somewhat worriedly, that he was extremely pale and bleeding profusely from the leg. Hyde was a little bit more concerned about Skinner, who was charred, shivering, and being used as a human shield by Grey, who was backing away from the League and pointing a pistol at the base of Skinner's skull.

"Round and round and back where we began, eh?" Grey said, grinning madly. "Of course, this time you know who I am and who I've taken, but you'll never know where or for how long. Never, until I've broken Mr. Skinner and reformed him into someone new - someone who belongs to me, body, mind and soul. But, as I am not entirely without mercy, I'll let Mr. Skinner say a word of farewell." He paused, and then dug his pistol more sharply into the base of Skinner's skull. "Well?"

Skinner only managed to get two words out, but they were the two words Grey had been least expecting, and the two that enraged him the most: "Grey bleeds."

"You have not endeared yourself to me," Grey snarled. He composed himself and addressed the League. "No matter. Your marksman is down and you'll never find us when we're gone from this place, so I bid you all adieu."

A pale, feminine hand reached over from behind Grey and grabbed the pistol. Startled, he pulled the trigger, but the person holding the barrel of the gun had already squeezed, and the bullet never left the chamber. "Mina," said Grey.

"Dorian," she replied.

"How long have you been standing there?"

She let go of the pistol and grabbed hold of his wrists. "Long enough to know that, if I kill you again, it'll be permanent," she said coolly, before, again, squeezing.

Grey was proud of himself for not screaming when his wrists broke, even though he was also upset for losing his grip on Skinner. "Well now that you know I'm mortal, are you going to kill me? Drink my blood?"

"Yes, and no. I'm just going to kill you. You are undeserving of even that small immortality." Her cold, white, deceptively soft hands grabbed hold of either side of his face, then Grey felt a sharp pain in the base of his neck, and then nothing more.

Skinner drifted in and out of consciousness for what felt like a thousand years. He couldn't be sure whether his eyes were open or shut, whether he was awake or dreaming. Sometimes he could hear snippets of conversation, but none of it made much sense.

"...careful with him. You have no idea..."

"...ice bath, so it's probably..."

"...him to be conscious yet? I thought..."

"...three days!"

"Sh! You'll wake him. He needs rest..."

"...shouldn't see the scars, but if..."

"...invisible. He'll want..."

"...if he prefers chocolate?"

"Liqueurs, I should think..."

"Mr. Skinner?"

The room he woke up in was dark, and he wondered for a moment if his rescue by the League had all been a dream - or worse, had failed entirely. But the person speaking was not Grey, and he was lying on a comfortable bed, not a table or a cold stone floor. The room, it turned out, was not really dark; someone had just spread some paint over his eyes while he slept. He experimentally opened his eyes, and squinted to adjust to the glare. He was back in the infirmary on the Nautilus, in the company of one Dr. Henry Jekyll. "'s Grey?" he managed.

"Oh, we took care of Mr. Grey," said Jekyll. "He's quite dead, this time. It took a while for Grey's other captives to be sure of that, as well, and we've put an advertisement in the Strand, so that any others hidden in England will know that they're free, too. Here," he said putting a glass in Skinner's hand. "Drink this, slowly."

He did so. "How long?" he said, his throat already starting to feel better.

"It's been a week since we rescued you. Ah..." he trailed off, smiling slightly. "Edward would like you to know that he intends to tease you to the end of your days about needing rescue. However, I would like to mention that he was just as concerned about you as the rest of us, so I shouldn't take it too seriously."

"Good to know," Skinner said, smirking a little. "A week? Really? After Mongolia..."

"You weren't so bad off after Mongolia," Jekyll said. They both trailed off at the implications. "Well, let's not dwell on that, Mr. Skinner. Not when you have so many people anxious to see you awake with their own eyes."

"Or not, as the case may be."

"Of course." He opened the door, and Special Agent Thomas Sawyer nearly fell in. This may have been because of the crutches and the bandaged leg but was more likely because he'd been leaning on the door with a glass to his ear. "Yes, Tom, you can come in," Jekyll told the sheepish special agent. "If you hadn't figured that out already, from listening at my doorway."

"I'm a spy!" Tom exclaimed. "What else am I supposed to do?" Then, more soberly, he said to Skinner, "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Skinner admitted. "Tired. And certainly in need of a good stiff drink. Do you realize, Grey and his cronies took me before I'd even gotten to the pub?"

"Well then, maybe these will help more than I thought," Sawyer said handing a white box to Skinner.

Jekyll quickly confiscated it. "I'm afraid you won't be enjoying these liqueurs in my infirmary, Mr. Skinner. Doctor's orders. I'll just set these here with the others for when you're better."

"Spoilsport."

"Indeed. Well then, shall we alert the rest of the League that you're up to seeing visitors?"

"No need, Doctor," said Captain Nemo. "We were already on our way."

"Decided not to camp outside the door, then?" Skinner said.

"Of course not," Nemo said. "That was Agent Sawyer's job."

Skinner shot an amused glance at Tom, who was grinning unrepentantly, and then his eyes rested on Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker. "'Ere, now, Mina, why so glum? I thought you'd be alight with joy, now that I'm here and whole again. Well, mostly whole."

"I fear I owe you an apology, Mr. Skinner," Mina said. "If I hadn't-"

"Now, none of that," Skinner interrupted. "Can't change the past, now - and anyway, if you hadn't shown him his painting, we'd have been fighting an immortal, yeah?"

"Well I still owe you an apology for killing him without waiting to see what you wanted."

"Mina, you had as much a right to kill him as any of us. He told me his strategy. It would've been me, Sawyer, Jekyll, Nemo, and you last of all." He caught sight of somebody in the back, sticking to the shadows but wearing a coat and hat very like his. "Who's this?"

The man shuffled forward a little, and then looked up, revealing... nothing.

"Cor! He looks just like me!"

"Not with greasepaint on. Rodney Skinner, meet... what did you decide on, again?"

"Roger Phoenix."

"Cor," said Skinner again. "Bit theatrical, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah. Besides, Phoenix was about as far away from water as I could get."

Skinner yawned suddenly, surprising himself as much as everybody else. Jekyll bustled everybody out of the room, scolding them for taking so much of his patient's energy when he'd just woken up. He walked over to Skinner, quickly checked Skinner's bandages, and then bid the invisible man goodnight and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Skinner waited for a moment, then said, "Thanks."

"For what?" Roger said, not entirely surprised Skinner had known he snuck back in. "I was supposed to make them think I was you until the next port. If I hadn't failed at my assignment, he'd have had you for weeks before they knew something was wrong."

"Well, then, thanks for failing, too. But I meant thanks for staying with me. The worst part..."

"Was being alone, I know. For that, I suppose, you're welcome."

The two invisible men were silent until, one after another, they fell asleep.