Author's Note: Jeez, I am SO SORRY for the month-long delay, or however long it's been. I really didn't mean to hold back this long. My argument is that I was taking part in a Ficathon on , and that's what I've been doing. I was dedicated to getting that finished on time, and… well, I really am very, truly sorry. I hope you forgive me, and like this update enough to not beat me with frying pans or frozen bakery products. Oh jeez, this update is a tad shorter than I'd like as well. Eeep. On a positive note, I think this story is going to be much longer than I had first anticipated. At first, I thought maybe fifteen chapters max… it's looking to be much longer than that right now. I have no idea where I'm going. Thanks for staying with me so far, and I hope I can keep your interest in my continuation XD
AcidOverRideChic: Thanks very much. Finish is a long way off.
Drakena: Eva took over a muse-slot in my head. Hostile takeover!
DiabloCat: Thanks very much. I like Eva Draper too, which is why she appeared here when I hadn't really originally planned for her to.
Sawyer Fan: Thanks very much, my fellow AAA member! Bwahah! I haven't planned anything including Hawley Griffin myself, but I know someone who has… XD Update LXG2! And you evil fiend… I was looking at Vin pictures last night XP I blame you.
kingleby: Glad you like Eva. I was a tad worried about putting her in for fear of people thinking she was an OC, and therefore branding her a dreaded Mary-Sue. Ugh. Thanks very much about the Reed thing! Heh.
Angharad: Thanks very much!
Scifi Kane: Eeep. Not the flying monkeys! Better make sure I keep updating then. Thanks for the review!
denna5: Thanks for the review, and about Tom… you'll have to wait and see…
BigMacAttack: You'll have to wait and see if your suspicions are correct, mwahahaha.
Of Love And Death: Eva, as I said, took up residency in my brain, and won't leave, so she'll be appearing a lot more than I first planned… which was… well, I never planned to feature her at first. XD
Funky in Fishnet: I thank you kindly regarding Reed. That's comforting. Glad you like Eva, too.
LotRseer3350: Thanks very much, about Reed! I'm so glad I put that in now.
funyun: I have no idea, regarding the hair, but in the film, you can see his hair in his dusty outline. I was gonna have it falling out and him kinda OO but then I remembered his form in the movie, and reconsidered. Sorry I've been neglecting the League. I haven't been meaning to.
Sethoz: Heh, thanks, buddy! Remember, you're responsible for this story! Mwahahaha! THAT chapter is on the way… somewhere in the near future… horizon. There! Way out there! See it? No? … I'd better run. ::runs::
Capt. Cow: Sorry to see you don't like Tom/Mina. Well, rest assured, this story definitely isn't Tom/Mina.
BloodMoonLycan: Don't worry about the missing review. It's okay! Really XD HAHAHAH! You should kick Dante! KICK HIM! Ahem… yes, anyway. Jerk indeed, that's what he is, to the core. Yay for Eva! I'm getting very fond of Eva oO
wakingbear: I don't remember reading your review 'til just now. How very odd. I could very well have been an evil genius, but Bond probably eradicated me with some silly inexplicable gadget XD And I hope Sethoz, Sawyer Fan, and I can more than make up for the lack of other Tom-angst writers out there XD
SissorsForHands: Here's the update!
brittanysr: Thanks very much. Here's the update.
Nimmo Sawyer: M did indeed get your message… I won't tell you his reaction, because I'm still recovering for myself. Let's put it this way; M was very 'un-gentlemanly' towards Eva. White is no longer her colour… okay, I'm stopping there. Hope that helps.
kelly: AIKE! Don't poke me! PLEASE! I'll update, I swear! See? I updated!
Leigh S. Durron: A new angst fan! HAHAH! Victory is mine…
girl from mars: Eeep! Here's an update!
Mellaithwen: Thanks for your interest, and here's your continuation!
Holy hellfire… that's a lot of shout outs. Of course, I don't have to reply to everyone, but I like to… cuz I'm a nerd. Anyway, here is Chapter Fourteen of Envenom…
Eva slipped out of the room, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her, and offered the guards a brief, grateful glance, before she went on her way, the little box in one hand, and the carafe and mug in the other. True, her hands were full, but she did not want any help. She had always been called independent, and who was she to go back on that now? Besides, there were only the guards to help, and she didn't want that from them. They had played their parts, and she was thankful for what little they had given her in order to help Tom.
The poor young man… he was in a terrible condition. She hoped she had helped enough to make a difference. His breathing had been less laboured when she had finally left him, after spending the better part of an hour and a half in that cell with him, managing to get him to drink sporadically, and generally keeping him company. But she knew one thing, and one thing for certain in her mind.
She could not let the Fantom know of her feelings for Tom. She could not let him know she cared.
He would only enjoy that, and exploit it.
Skinner nearly got jammed in the door as the guards were closing it, but he suppressed a yelp, and slid out awkwardly, managing not to ram against any of the men in the process, and sucked in a deep breath when he was clear of being squashed. Looking over his shoulder at the closed portal, he almost cursed his decision to leave and follow Eva Draper… but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Again.
He followed her like a second and unannounced shadow as they trailed away from the room where Sawyer was being held, and for a moment, guilt tore into his stomach like small blades. He gnawed on his bottom lip, wondering if he really should have left the spy alone. He had been barely conscious when Eva Draper had taken her leave, exhausted and relieved by the treatment the woman had given him. Hopefully, Sawyer would be okay without Skinner there, if he even remembered the thief had been present at all.
The question is, do I let her know I'm here? Skinner was figuring this out for himself, when he realised Eva Draper had stopped walking, probably thinking, and he hadn't noticed.
Which, of course, led to Skinner solving his own puzzle by running into the woman, and knocking them both other with a squeal and a yelp. He cursed his distraction and inability to pay attention, and scrambled off her with wide eyes, seeing her fear and confusion. For one horrible moment, Skinner thought she was going to scream in terror.
"Wait!" Skinner hissed, and forced himself into a suitable position to grab the box calmly and lift it slowly. "I'm not going to hurt you. All right? Spooks don't speak, and I'm not working for M either." She looked puzzled, and he shook his head. "The Fantom. I don't work for him… I'm trying to stop the bugger."
Eva furrowed her feminine brows, and swallowed noticeably. "What do you want?"
"I… first of all, I'm going to give you this box back. See?" He held it out for her to take, which she did, albeit tentatively. He couldn't blame her for that though, considering an invisible man had just knocked her over out of nowhere. "Secondly… I want to thank you."
She cocked her head slightly to one side, locks of her dislodged honey hair falling across her cheek. "Why?"
"Sawyer… Tom Sawyer. He's a friend of mine. Thank you for helping him like you did. It means a lot. He was in a lot of pain."
Understanding dawned on the young attractive face, and she finally smiled, if only wanly. He nearly missed the expression in fact, even as she said, "Though I would like to take credit for the idea, I cannot."
Skinner cocked his head, but when he remembered its futility, he settled for a simple, "What?"
"It was not my own doing to come to your friend and give him treatment."
Skinner furrowed his brow heavily, and then the fog lifted from his brain. He nearly growled, controlling himself long enough to say, "The bastard." It all made perfect sense to him now; why she had been sent, and just why it was her and not a doctor.
"Excuse me?" Eva breathed in confusion, almost backing away from the invisible man.
"M… the Fantom… whatever you want to call him. He sent you, didn't he?"
Eva's nod was all Skinner needed, and his fists immediately started to curl into tight and furious balls, whilst he fought down the strong and powerful urge to smash something… like M's head. "I'll kill 'im."
"I… do not understand. I thought that you wanted Tom to be treated? Is this bad?" Eva's eyes showed her bemusement, and Skinner sympathised at once. She seemed intelligent enough… if a little naïve on top of that. It wasn't her fault. She was only playing the hand that had been dealt to her. Her options were limited, and he didn't blame her. She wasn't the guilty party.
"M – the Fantom – wants to keep Tom alive, so he can keep hurting him! Don't you see? This is all a game with him; a sick, twisted and evil game. It's entertainment, and Tom is on the receiving end of all his… ugh, I want to tear him apart with my bare hands!" Skinner mimed throttling M, but was actually rather grateful the young woman couldn't see the vicious motion.
Eva seemed to comprehend then, and she looked absolutely crestfallen. Guilt swam in her bright eyes, and she even paled. "I…"
"No, wait; it's not your fault, all right? Don't go blaming yourself for what he's doing to my friend. All you can do is what you need to stay alive, all right? And you have to do that. You helped Tom back in there. You did more than patch him up. He looked hopeful for a minute… and I thought he was losin' that." Skinner gently and tentatively – so as not to frighten her – touched a hand to Eva's lean arm. "Don't let him lose that."
Eva almost recoiled from the unseen touch, and swallowed slightly, looking in the vague direction of his face, or where she supposed it would be. His words were sinking into her mind, and starting to take root. He did have a point. The young man locked in that room needed all the help he could get, and if this 'man' thought she was giving the aide desired, then who was she to deny its continuation?
"I'm Rodney Skinner," the voice said softly, and she felt a hand slip carefully into hers for her to shake. She did so, and realised how odd it would have appeared should someone happen around the corner and upon the scene. Swallowing her doubts, she smiled, and returned with, "Eva Draper. I will help your friend any way that I can. You need only ask anything of me, and if I can get it, I shall."
Rodney Skinner sighed with relief. "It feels good to hear that. Not too many folks around here who can help, but you… you're different." She had the distinct impression a finger was jabbing lightly in her direction, and she almost chuckled. "Now, I know this is gonna sound weird, but… well, I'm going to need to shadow you."
"Pardon?" She couldn't help her confusion, or the knitting of her brows that was testament to such.
"Follow you around; that sort of thing. It'll help me figure out what M plans to do with Tom.
Eva's eyes widened. The Professor! She had been gone so long!
"W-what is it?" Skinner stammered, and she imagined him looking over his shoulder and all around for danger, as if she had spotted something looming.
"I must return! He will come looking for me, and you might be discovered! Follow me at your own risk, but please, do not let him find you. One man's suffering, I can take, but not two." Her despair was clear in her voice, and it pained her to think what might happen if the man was discovered or captured… as impossible as that might have seemed. The Professor had his ways of getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He would have no trouble finding Mr. Skinner.
"C'mon then. Let's get you back." She felt his hands firmly in hers, helping her to her feet, and as she brushed off her skirts – already dusty from kneeling in Tom's cell – he retrieved the box for her, handing it over when she had finished her menial cleaning of her own attire. He picked up the mug and carafe, both of which were empty, and they went on their way. She wasn't sure how, but she could feel him behind her all the way to M's chamber. They would dispose of the evidence of refreshment on the way; it wouldn't do to try his temper on her treatment of the 'prisoner', no matter what her argument was.
And if there was one thing she needed right now, more than anything, it was M's trust, and her freedom of movement.
Dorian had more than made up for lost contemplation time, lost with his thoughts, where he had spent the last hour or so in his rooms in the fortress, sitting in front of his lit fireplace. He had stared into those flickering flames, twirling his cane idly in one hand as he let his mind wander… and then his feet had decided they wanted to follow. He found himself now, once again, on the move, strolling along the corridors, looking very much the casual gentleman. His cane would occasionally clack against the stone floor as his heels tapped, and he hummed a gentle tune to himself as he moved. He remembered nights at the opera with friends and acquaintances, and watching performances of plays in the evenings during the week. Oh how simple life had been all those years ago. No matter… those days were gone. All he wanted now was to return to London.
He found himself coming up on some guards, and quirked a neat brow, remembering how the same men had dragged Sawyer away when he had tried to escape. Chuckling quietly to himself, he wondered if the boy would like a visit from a 'friend'. Well, of course he wouldn't, but it would be amusing for Dorian to look down on the brat in his failure and think about that once-cocky attitude. M was breaking him… and if it wasn't figurative, it was soon to be literal.
He nodded his head to the guards, who seemed a little taken aback by his sudden and quiet approach. They obviously hadn't heard him arrive on the scene, and for that, he was glad. He hadn't lost his touch.
The men didn't question his motives, and one of them retrieved the small but vital key from on his person to unlock the door. Dorian waited patiently, resting his hands casually and calmly on the pommel of his solid cane as he did so.
Tom had his arms draped loosely over his drawn up knees, taking deep breaths to try and soothe the lingering pain in his body. The burns, cuts and broken rub weren't so intense now, and neither was the knife wound… thanks to Eva. She had lightly bandaged the stab wound to keep it from bleeding out so badly, and had used antiseptic to keep him from getting infections. It had stung madly, and he had wanted to scream once or twice, but for Eva's sake – so as not to make her feel guilty for hurting him unintentionally – he had choked them back, and gritted his teeth so hard he thought he might break his own jaw. His fists were a little sore from being clenched so tight as well, but the discomfort would pass.
In his mind, he thought he heard the click of the lock being cast aside from the main door to the room, but with his eyes closed and with his own deep breathing to settle the ache, he didn't truly register it. Even the sound of approaching feet could not bring him out of his seemingly meditative state as he simply slouched against that wall, in the least uncomfortable position he could find, head dropping forward a little, hair tumbling across his face limply.
What he wouldn't have given to submerge himself in hot water at that moment…
The creak of the cell door, however, certainly did rouse him from his musings and calming of his own body, and he slowly opened his eyes… he knew that cocky stride. The confidence in the pace was unmistakeable, and as he listened – as intently as he could manage – he thought he recognised the familiar and rhythmic 'click-click-click' of the tip of a cane touching to the cold, hard floor in time with his steps.
The sounds stopped, and Tom lifted his head a little way from the position it had dropped to, eyes meeting the dark, cruel and scheming gaze of Dorian Gray, who stood impassively before him. Tom blinked slowly, staring straight back up with hate burning like an inferno in his own eyes. He wanted to tear the immortal apart with every fibre of strength left in his beaten body, and even as he sat there, seemingly calm and collected, his punished chest heaved rapidly with quickened breathing, his face twisting almost into a sneer as his eyes flashed dangerously. Dorian simply stood, and a slight smile turned his lips up at the edges in an almost mockingly kind smile.
In the blink of an eye, Tom had forced his agonised frame up from the floor, launched like a catapult, lunging forward at the unmoving immortal, and the spy had every intention of trying to strangle the life out of the smug man.
Dorian, it seemed, had anticipated such a volatile reaction, and was just out of reach, as one of Tom's ankle manacles snapped him back, and with a cry of pain, his leg was torn out from under him, causing him to slam down to one knee and brace himself. His arms had run out of slack as well, and were being held back from his torso a little as he gasped and panted heavily, looking up fiercely to Dorian Gray with pained light eyes.
Of all the questions Tom could have possibly asked, only one fought for precedence with the ferocity of a cornered tiger, clawing its way to the surface, with no chance of being denied. It bubbled up in Tom's throat, and emerged before his brain had truly comprehended what it was he meant.
"Why…?"
To Be Continued…