Blind | One-Shot

A LXG Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko

Pairing: Skinner / Tom

Warning: Angst, fluff

Rating: PG-13

Timeline: Movieverse

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of Alan Moore, Kevin O'Neil and their associates.

A/N: Another penance fic written for aefallen. Give it up, dear; you can never convert me into a Skinner/Tom fan no matter how hard you try.

Dedicated to Eleris, my dear unwilling betrothed.

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Nothing really made much sense to him these days. He was injured, lying in the sick bay on board the Nautilus after that last battle with M. But despite his coma, he could hear people entering and leaving the room. Mina and Jekyll, mostly, since they were the doctors responsible of healing him back to health. But only one remained behind as always.

Rodney Skinner believed it to be part of his fevered delusions though. What other reasons were there for young Tom Sawyer to stay by his bedside day and night, holding tightly onto his limp hand and pleading for him to return to the land of living?

But dreams or not, it had given him the faith to keep on fighting. No matter how easy and tempting it seemed to just let it go, he kept on struggling for his life. He could find out if the trembling hand holding his own and the quiet sobs were real or imagination later.

***

Tom Sawyer refused to budge. All of them had come into the room once or twice a day to convince him otherwise, but he was stubborn in his decision to stay behind. He got up from his seat, poured a glass of warm water for himself and sat down again.

He hated the Sick Bay. He hated the pungent smell of medicine in the air. He hated the thick salve Mina had applied on Skinner to keep him visible while they try to nurse him back to health. He hated the fact that no matter how long he stayed by the man; he simply did not wake up. But most of all, he hated Rodney Skinner.

The man confused him in so many ways. There were times when he was irritating and there were times when he was downright exasperating. There were also times when Tom wanted to drop down to his knees and worship the man. Tom could never figure out what sort of man the gentleman thief was. Was he an honorable son of the Empire, or was he the lewd and callous jerk whose favorite pastime includes dropping sexual innuendos where they were least appreciated?

Tom hated him for the fact that he would never get to see his eyes. He would never know what color they were, whether or not Skinner was a blonde or a brunette…It was unfair, that Skinner got to hide that much about himself while Tom had to wear his heart on his sleeve and bare it for all to see.

He hated Skinner because he had no idea whether to hate him or love him.

"You scare me, do you know that? What the hell did you do that for? What on Earth possess you to risk everything just to save me?" Tom whispered. There was no reply. Not that he was expecting any anyway. He traced his fingers lightly across the cream that covered Skinner's face, his eyes welling up again in tears. It was his fault that Skinner was fatally injured in that Godforsaken fire. But why had Skinner done what he did? Was Tom really worth all that sacrifice?

It was in Tom's plans all these while to return back to the States after they destroyed M's base. Go back to where he came from and forget whatever budding feeling he had towards the invisible man. Ignore that pain in his chest when the entire League thought Skinner as the traitor, forget the butterflies in his stomach when he heard Skinner's message over the Morse transmission, and bury the jealous clenching of his heart when he watched Skinner openly flirting with Mina Harker in that cave.

It would have been easy. If only Skinner had not risked his own skin, literally and figuratively, to save his life…making Tom believe that his feelings might be returned after all.

"Wake up, I beg of you." Tom took Skinner's hand again and rested it close to his cheek. "I need to know the truth…what makes you think I'm worth all these trouble?"

To speak the truth, Tom would rather have died a thousand painful deaths than to see the usually hyperactive man lying so lifeless on the bed. Rodney Skinner was worth a thousand of him. Who was Thomas Sawyer anyway? Just a stupid Yankee who could not shoot to save his life.

"Please…" It was getting late, and Tom was getting tired. Heavy eyelids fluttered close as a tear fell from those long lashes onto Skinner's hand. "I love you…" Tom had not realized he had said it as he fell asleep.

***

As time passed, his dreams became clearer to him. He was able to remember more things from them, and soon, he began to believe them as reality instead of make-believes. There were voices all around him. But as night falls, the room grew silent, except for the faithful boy who stayed by his side.

Skinner fought hard. Mina and Jekyll had done a good job in ensuring that he had the energy to fight this battle, it was entirely up to him to win it. He had to. He heard the tears in Tom's voice as the boy pleaded with him to wake up. He felt the warm fingers caressing his face in his sleep. He wanted to know if it was guilt or something stronger. He wanted to know if he was loved as he had loved.

He would win.

***

Tom shivered in his chair, eyes shut in an uneasy sleep. As always, Rodney Skinner had appeared in his dreams, watching him as he was watched, not saying anything.

And then he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but an unexpected commotion in the room interrupted his speech. Tom looked to the bedside where the invisible man was. Mina was crying; Jekyll was holding her upright lest she collapsed from grief. Even the ever stoic Nemo was watching the entire exchange with hazy eyes.

"What happened?" Tom cried. Mina cast an apologetic look at him and continued crying. The American rushed to where Skinner was and understood. His chest was no longer rising and falling while he breathed. Death had claimed the invisible man into his realms.

"Skinner!" Tom shook the man frantically, body cold and devoid of life. "Skinner, wake up! Come back!"

"Sawyer!" Nemo exclaimed, as the young man grew more desperate, shaking the body with a force threatening to tear the flesh apart. Tom struggled, tears running freely down his cheeks.

"Don't stop me! I can bring him back! I have to bring him back!"

***

Tom woke up with a gasp, and stared around the room in confusion. It was a dream, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief as all tension left his body. He smiled sadly at Skinner, propped his chin up with his hands and drifted back to sleep.

The next day, Jekyll, as always, walked into the Sick Bay to check on his patient. Tom was where he had been for the past few days, asleep in the chair beside Skinner's bed, head resting on the mattress. The doctor reached out, wanting to wake the young man before he got a terrible kink in his neck, and then he paused. He turned to leave the room with a smile.

Entangled in Tom's sandy blonde hair was the strong but slender hand of Skinner, still white with the cream they had applied on it.

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End of Blind