Author's Note: I've given myself a challenge to try and not only improve the quality of my work, but also to try and make myself write a bit more, get the creative juices flowing. This one is inspired by the word introductions.

And I'll be damned if I'm not on an LXG kick right now. There's just something appealing about the turmoil in and between Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde.

Disclaimer: All characters, blah, blah, do not belong to me, I just borrowed them for a brief jaunt.

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There was something painful and disjointing about the transformation. The way it tore at his skin and muscles and bone like a hungry beast, distending and deforming and so painful that there were no words, even if he could get them past the cruelly twisted jaw, the awkward teeth and a numb tongue that seemed unable to twist to his commands. His body disobeyed him during transformations. It disobeyed Henry Jekyll and it disobeyed Edward Hyde and seemed content to spasm and rip itself apart before finally settling into either form: something wan and frail and lost, or a mountain of force and cruelty.

And the pain. The pain was an illness that consumed them both and ripped away the already blurring lines of reality. As one, Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde growled agony though Henry already had more desperation and Edward only seemed amused by this implication of mortality.

When it was all over there was a numb ache for a moment as he threw his arms out and coughed on air. Before the weight of the chains dragged him to the ice slick floor, he got a brief glimpse of the gathering of people he'd witnessed through Edward's eyes and they all seemed suddenly very large. But that was the impression he always got through Edward's eyes; things were smaller and less significant to him.

Silence grew around Henry as he shed the chains, and before he could be assailed by the cold and the ache and the bone deep sorrow that once again he'd been defeated by Hyde's insistence.. there was the embarrassment. The shame of it all burned against the cold of the room. It took all his willpower to stand, clutching the ruin of his trousers to his waist to save himself even more humiliation as he cast a look around the room. He shook hard, from the cold and exertion and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to shrink away. The sweat that poured off him froze against his skin.

"Doctor Jekyll.." Even his voice seemed to shake and he chastised himself for not being a stronger man. "At your service." Thankfully, the older gentleman that had taken Hyde down with such ease – Qautermain, so far as he understood– turned to address the remainder of the gathering.

"So. The League is set."

They were a league? Shaking in the cold, he looked at the gathered people as one of the crewmembers of this strange and fantastic vessel rushed up with a message. Edward growled unhappily. 'Don't be such a bloody woman Henry. We'll be going home after this. '

"May I…" Henry coughed, his voice felt thick with the cold and shook nearly as hard as he did. "Some water, please?" Almost as if anticipating his request, a glass of water was delivered to his shaking hands and as he gulped it down with the eagerness of a parched and dying man, they began to speak again and he slowly picked up on names.

The members of the League spoke to each other in a friendly enough manner but they also seemed unwilling to include him in their quiet conversation. Then again, Henry thought with an almost dejected slope of his shoulders, perhaps he was simply an unwelcome necessity. It was Hyde they seemed to want, not him. Not Henry Jekyll.

Interrupted in the midst of his embarrassment and self pity, he was interrupted by a friendly clap to the shoulder which, catching him so off guard, nearly delivered him tumbling to the floor.

"Easy there mate," Smiling under a layer of greasepaint, Skinner slid an easy arm around his shoulder and began to lead him from the cold. Though thankful, Henry couldn't fight down the color that rose to his face as he fought to keep his trousers up. "They've got the crew fetching your things from the city, so let's get you a room and settled?"

"Thank you." Falling quiet as they moved through the hallways, Henry found himself startled by the seemingly easy friendship that the self proclaimed thief offered. Skinner spoke as they walked, filling him in on what they were set to accomplish and why they needed Jekylls outlandish other half to accomplish such things.

"But," Quick to reassure him, Skinner halted and faced him. "Not to say a doctor of your skills won't come in handy either, you see." There was an oddly theatrical flourish to all of Skinner's movements that didn't seem to suit a thief at all and with a wonder at what all of this 'Extraordinary' business was all about, he pointed out as much.

"Now you see, I've told this story a hundred times, so I'll just tell you I've got the skills and abilities for silence none of this lot possess, clear?" Skinner chuckled, the greasepaint stiffening the gesture slightly and before Henry could ask what abilities they might be, the thief whipped off the pair of pince-nez lenses he'd been wearing and gifted Henry with a very hollow wink. Where his eyes would be was a nothingness and, impossibly, a glimpse of the black duster at the back his neck..

Struck speechless by the act, Henry had to be nudged before he started moving again. Hyde howled amusement at his reaction in the back of his skull and proceeded to make casual conversation to nobody but himself about the entire thing. "And I'm not the strangest of the lot either."

By the time they'd reached the room Henry had been given, Skinner had told a fantastic tale of vampires and immortals, underwater ships and pirates and the worse part of it is that it was all utterly and completely true.. It was a numb acceptance of all this that had quieted Edward down into ponderous thought in his mind as Skinner threw open the door into a well equipped state room and smiled rather thinly.

"Here we are." With a tip of the black trilby on his head, Skinner turned and began to walk off. "If you need anything, give the crew a holler and they'll set you straight, clear?" At Henry's awkward nod of the head, Skinner was off and for the first time Henry realized that indeed, beneath the black waves of his duster as he stalked off down the hallway, there were no legs or feet. The thief floated merrily away and with a short noise of disbelief, Henry shut the door and walked over the bed.

This was such a strange turn of events. But.. amnesty had been promised and as with Edward, Henry was ready to go home if for different reasons. Letting his head sink into his hands, he brushed his sweat slicked hair back from his head and stood at a soft knock on the door.

Greeted by a crewman in the hallway, he was pleasantly surprised to see his cases in the man's hands and with a gracious nod of his head he dragged them back into his cabin and began to clean up.

There was comfort in the simplicity of getting dressed. Of being able to forget about vampires and hunters, immortals and pirates and invisible men even it was only for a short while. Though he could no longer see his own reflection, the face of Edward mocked him from the other side of the glass as he worked from memory and habit to brush his hair back and tie his cravat.

Heavy footfalls outside his door alerted him to a presence and with a quick jump, he hurried to the door to see Allan Quatermain stalking down the hall with a stack of papers in hand. Letting out an uneasy breath, Henry straightened his coat and shut the door quietly behind himself as he made his way after the taller man. Now that he was properly groomed and in control of himself – Edward laughed cruelly at that thought and Henry shuddered despite himself – it was time to meet these people he would be working with.

It was time to meet this League.