Disclaimer: I'm with everyone who wants M to die a nasty death - the movie death is too good for him. But if he really dies or not... well, you'll just have to wait! It's not really up to me, it's up to my muse...
I don't own LXG, Tom Sawyer, Allan Quatermain, Mina Hawker, Skinner, Captain Nemo, Dorian Gray, Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, M or anything else used in the fic. (It's starting to bug me, having to put a disclaimer every time. Oh well.)
Roz, of course I remember you! You wrote that truly amazing 'Windmills of your mind' (Hint: Go read. Full of Obi-Wan angst.) It wasn't rubbish. ;) But you haven't written anything new in a while... *pouts*
Thank you so much to everyone who left a review for the last part, I hope you all enjoy this one!
Please read, then review. And now... on with this part!
Black Pawn, White Pawn
~~~
Part 3:- "You Are Forsaken."
~~~
"Madam Mina still sleep and sleep. And though I did have hunger and appeased it, I could not waken her, even for food. I began to fear that the fatal spell of the place was upon her, tainted as she is with that Vampire baptism."
~Dracula. Chapter 27.
~ By Bram Stoker
Mina moved though the base in her bat form. She moved with a single purpose; to find Agent Tom Sawyer... before it was too late. Ahead of her were two gold doors, signifying the entrance to M's inner rooms.
With a hiss she changed back into her human form, walking towards the doors and pushing them open. Instantly her nose was hit with the over powering, intoxicating sent of fresh blood. Mina staggered backwards, fighting to keep control over her lesser nature. It was hard. It was so very hard.
She stepped into the room, her eyes searching for the person she knew would be inside. Tom Sawyer hung from his chains, a pool of blood around his feet. Mina felt herself slipping, loosing control of herself.
Without even being aware of it she ran forward, her eyes changing, her whole body crying out for the fresh blood she could smell. She reached the body and bit down, hard, no pause in her movements. Mina drank deeply, her mind not even registering the faint struggles or the spasms the body gave. It was only when she had drained the body dry that she became aware of herself at all.
She licked her lips. The blood had been so invigorating, young and warm with adrenaline running though it. The blood lust slowly faded from her eyes, the red veil lifting. She stared down at the corpse of Tom with horror on her face. The blood was still moving through her, so warm...
Oh Gods, it had been so warm...
"He had been alive when I drained him." Mina said out loud, backing away from the body, Tom's blood making her feel tingly all over as if someone was lightly pricking her with tiny pin ends.
"Hello Lover." a cool, amused voice said behind her. Dorian Gray stood there, his stick resting on the ground. Mina bared her teeth in a growl, moving to stand between Gray and the cooling body of Tom.
"Bit late for that isn't it?" he said, nodding his head at the dead body. "My, what will Mr. Quartermain say?" he asked, a mocking smile gracing his lips. "He will not be happy." Mina stood there, breathing heavily. She wanted to attack him, hurt him, kill him but some inner force was holding her in place. When she did finally move towards him it was not to attack him in quite that way.
Her lips caught his in a violent kiss.
She pushed him back, taking the aggressive route, all her fibers screaming at her to take him, right there and right now. The bed was getting closer and closer, his hands on her top, her hands fumbling with his buttons.
//It's the fresh blood.\\ she thought vaguely, her mind far away. It came back with a crash as she realized the 'fresh blood' was in fact Tom's life force. Dorian looked at her, sensing her sudden reluctance.
"It's not the past that matters now. It's the moment. This moment." He locked eyes with her for another long moment then kissed her, gently at first, but then increasing in passion as she returned the kiss. Mina closed her eyes and lost herself in his embrace. The guilt she felt at the death of Tom Sawyer was rapidly fading.
He was only a mortal after all.
What did he matter to her? He was food, nothing else.
~~~
Mina's eyes snapped open, her eyes darting around the darkened room. Faint shadows jumped out at her, looming out of the darkness towards her. She slipped out from under the covers and moved blindly forward, her arms reaching out in the hope of finding a lamp.
Her knee banging into a table, making her give a muffled groan. Her hands groped out, catching a lamp just before it fell. Shaking slightly she lit it, the rays casting a warm glow over the whole room.
She turned, scanning the room. It was her own room on board the Nautilus, she wasn't near Gray, she had not drained Sawyer. It was all just a dream. She repeated the last sentence over and over again, trying to ignore the gut feeling in the pit of her stomach.
When she had drained the dream Sawyer, it had felt so good.
How could she trust herself when they found him now? She moved back to the bed and tried to sleep again, ignoring the little voice in her head that urged her to drink from him when he was found.
She would not betray the trust he had in her. She would not. She would not. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Would she?
But the memory of that all encompassing warmth, the energy she had gained, the sweet taste of his blood refused to leave her.
Mina didn't sleep again that night.
~~~
M wandered into his sitting room, where Tom was kept. He walked over to the boy and grabbed him by the face, lifting it up so he could see it the light. Frowning the man peeled back one of Tom's eyelids and peered into his eyes. M let go of the face and the head dropped limply down. The boy was still most definitely out cold. He should have rejoined the land of the living hours ago.
It was no fun having a captive to do what he liked to if the captive refused to wake up.
Half a Hour later...
Moriarty's private doctor lifted Tom Sawyer's arm, feeling for his pulse. He checked the young man's heart, his shoulder, his head. After roughly ten minutes spent examining him, the doctor backed away with a soft sigh.
"Well?" M asked. The doctor looked at his patient, barely mangling to keep the disgust he felt at seeing the man from appearing on his face. In his own mind, the doctor didn't even call him a man. But he had no choice, just like the scientists in the lower levels he knew he had no choice.
He had a wife and a child to think about. He tried to blank from his mind that this young man looked so much like an older version of his own son.
"His shoulder is infected, he is running a fever and though I can't be sure, I think due to the head injury he probably has a concussion." The doctor bent down and pulled two bottles from his bag.
"What are you doing?" Hissed M. The doctor looked surprised.
"I'm going to treat him. Isn't that what you want me to do? This bottle will bring down his fever in theory and this other bottle should help with his concussion."
"Just treat his fever. Leave the concussion." M said. "Also, wake him up."
"Ye-yes Sir." The Doctor spluttered, placing the second bottle back into his back. He turned away from it and focused on his new patent. M moved closer as well, his gaze boring into the doctors. Neither of them saw the bag open of it's own accord or the second bottle the doctor had spoken about, float up into the air. It moved backwards and gently floated behind a large bookcase. Skinner allowed himself a rare smile. He had done something that would help Sawyer at last - as long as the doctor didn't realize the bottle was missing. He had no time to do anything about this however, as the doctor turned back to his bag, bending down and picking it up. He slipped the first bottle back into the bag, giving the inside of it a quick glance as he did. Skinner froze in horror, even though he knew there was no way he could be seen.
Then the moment of danger passed as the doctor shut his bag with a 'snap', before shaking hands with M. Then he turned and walked out of the room with the heavy step of the defeated, making his way towards the cell that was his room.
The Doctor had done his job well. Already Tom was giving soft groans and slight hiccups of breath as he slowly returned to wakefulness. Skinner moved towards the door, glad the the Doctor had left it a little bit open.
Skinner was a coward in these matters.
He couldn't just stand there and watch M beat Tom senseless, then wake him and start the cycle all over again. He had to do something that would help his young friend and until M got bored of tonight's entertainment he couldn't give Tom the medicine he had stolen.
Which just left Skinner with the task of memorizing every inch of this base. Skinner had barely left the room before the first blow landed on Tom's already abused body. Tom gave a soft groan but refused to scream and give in to the monster in front of him.
M snarled, his rage taking over. He hit Tom again and again. As each blow landed Tom would give some small sound but fought against letting the scream he could feel get past his closed teeth.
The older man backed away and stared at the younger man in some confusion. Tom hung from his chains, breathing harshly. By rights he should have been screaming from the first blow.
"Americans. You all have to be so stubborn." M muttered, his gaze racking up and down the other man's body one last time, a childish pout on his face. He hated not getting his own way and right now his own way involved of lots of screaming and pain, all from Tom Sawyer.
Then a slow, sly grin slipped onto his face. He turned away, to the tray of metal instruments and picked one up, slipping it onto his hand. M stood with his back to Tom for a few long moments, enjoying the intense atmosphere. Then he whipped round and punched Tom, hard in the stomach with the metal object attached to his hand.
He was wearing knuckle-dusters.
The knuckle-duster hit Tom right on the rib that was the most tender. There was a loud crack that echoed sickeningly round the room as Tom's rib snapped.
Tom screamed.
M laughed, fingering the knuckle-duster, a smile of pure delight on his face. He moved to punch Tom in the same spot again, stopping at the last second, a happy look on his face. It slowly faded at the absence of a flinch.
//The boy must be scared of me now.\\ he thought, lifting Tom's head to get a better look at him. Sawyer's eyes were unfocused and hazy as he looking around the room. There was not a hint of fear in those eyes. M whipped his hand away from the boy in disgust. Maybe he should have let the doctor do something about the head injury? It was too late now, M was not the sort of person to change his mind if it meant showing mercy on his prisoners.
M removed the knuckle-duster and placed it back on the tray. All the boy needed was a few hours rest. Then the fun could begin again.
Slightly cheered by that thought, M delivered one last kick to Tom Sawyer's body, this time to the back of his knee. He watched with satisfaction as the leg gave out on the boy before being gingerly placed back on the ground in an automatic effort to remove strain from his injured shoulder.
Then the evil mastermind turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. He had real work to do, the fun would just have to wait.
~~~
Skinner crept back into the room a hour later. He moved steady over to Sawyer, not wanting to disturb him if he was gaining any precious and much needed healing sleep. Any hopes of this were dashed as he looked into his friends face.
Tom's eyes were wide and staring. It was clear from the complete lack of reaction he gave after Skinner said his name the the boy was past hearing. Skinner nearly tripped up over his own feet as he turned, running for the bookcase where he had hid the medicine. His one hope was that he wasn't too late. Grabbing the bottle, he hurried back over to Sawyer. His flesh was clammy, Skinner realized with growing horror. He pulled the stopper out of the bottle and gently tried to tip some of the liquid into Tom's mouth.
The American suddenly came to life, spluttering, fighting against the medicine that was trying to run down his throat, not knowing that it would save his life.
"Easy Sawyer, easy." the thief pleaded, trying once more to pour some the liquid down Sawyer.
It might have been Skinner's voice, some inner instinct or simply the fact he didn't have any energy left Skinner didn't know. Which ever one it was though, it meant that this time around, Sawyer swallowed a lot more of the medicine.
Skinner gave a sigh of relief and carefully re-stopped the bottle before placing it back in it's hiding place. He then grabbed a towel from the metal tray and wiped away all outward traces of the medicine. The last thing he wanted was M twigging to the fact that someone had treated Tom. He placed the towel back onto the tray. At that moment, behind him, he heard a shocked gasp.
Skinner turned around and paled - not that anyone would have been able to tell.
The Doctor was standing just inside the door, his mouth hanging open at the sight of a floating towel. Skinner gulped.
This really was the last thing he needed.
TBC...
Okay, Okay, I don't know very much about medicine at all. I do know you shouldn't fall asleep if you have a concussion but that's about it. So there probably isn't some kind of amazing medicine that cures concussion, but for the sake of this story, let's just pretend there is.
Thank you so much for reading this part, I hope you all enjoyed it. Now please, please leave a review to let me know what you think!
~Sethoz
I don't own LXG, Tom Sawyer, Allan Quatermain, Mina Hawker, Skinner, Captain Nemo, Dorian Gray, Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde, M or anything else used in the fic. (It's starting to bug me, having to put a disclaimer every time. Oh well.)
Roz, of course I remember you! You wrote that truly amazing 'Windmills of your mind' (Hint: Go read. Full of Obi-Wan angst.) It wasn't rubbish. ;) But you haven't written anything new in a while... *pouts*
Thank you so much to everyone who left a review for the last part, I hope you all enjoy this one!
Please read, then review. And now... on with this part!
Black Pawn, White Pawn
~~~
Part 3:- "You Are Forsaken."
~~~
"Madam Mina still sleep and sleep. And though I did have hunger and appeased it, I could not waken her, even for food. I began to fear that the fatal spell of the place was upon her, tainted as she is with that Vampire baptism."
~Dracula. Chapter 27.
~ By Bram Stoker
Mina moved though the base in her bat form. She moved with a single purpose; to find Agent Tom Sawyer... before it was too late. Ahead of her were two gold doors, signifying the entrance to M's inner rooms.
With a hiss she changed back into her human form, walking towards the doors and pushing them open. Instantly her nose was hit with the over powering, intoxicating sent of fresh blood. Mina staggered backwards, fighting to keep control over her lesser nature. It was hard. It was so very hard.
She stepped into the room, her eyes searching for the person she knew would be inside. Tom Sawyer hung from his chains, a pool of blood around his feet. Mina felt herself slipping, loosing control of herself.
Without even being aware of it she ran forward, her eyes changing, her whole body crying out for the fresh blood she could smell. She reached the body and bit down, hard, no pause in her movements. Mina drank deeply, her mind not even registering the faint struggles or the spasms the body gave. It was only when she had drained the body dry that she became aware of herself at all.
She licked her lips. The blood had been so invigorating, young and warm with adrenaline running though it. The blood lust slowly faded from her eyes, the red veil lifting. She stared down at the corpse of Tom with horror on her face. The blood was still moving through her, so warm...
Oh Gods, it had been so warm...
"He had been alive when I drained him." Mina said out loud, backing away from the body, Tom's blood making her feel tingly all over as if someone was lightly pricking her with tiny pin ends.
"Hello Lover." a cool, amused voice said behind her. Dorian Gray stood there, his stick resting on the ground. Mina bared her teeth in a growl, moving to stand between Gray and the cooling body of Tom.
"Bit late for that isn't it?" he said, nodding his head at the dead body. "My, what will Mr. Quartermain say?" he asked, a mocking smile gracing his lips. "He will not be happy." Mina stood there, breathing heavily. She wanted to attack him, hurt him, kill him but some inner force was holding her in place. When she did finally move towards him it was not to attack him in quite that way.
Her lips caught his in a violent kiss.
She pushed him back, taking the aggressive route, all her fibers screaming at her to take him, right there and right now. The bed was getting closer and closer, his hands on her top, her hands fumbling with his buttons.
//It's the fresh blood.\\ she thought vaguely, her mind far away. It came back with a crash as she realized the 'fresh blood' was in fact Tom's life force. Dorian looked at her, sensing her sudden reluctance.
"It's not the past that matters now. It's the moment. This moment." He locked eyes with her for another long moment then kissed her, gently at first, but then increasing in passion as she returned the kiss. Mina closed her eyes and lost herself in his embrace. The guilt she felt at the death of Tom Sawyer was rapidly fading.
He was only a mortal after all.
What did he matter to her? He was food, nothing else.
~~~
Mina's eyes snapped open, her eyes darting around the darkened room. Faint shadows jumped out at her, looming out of the darkness towards her. She slipped out from under the covers and moved blindly forward, her arms reaching out in the hope of finding a lamp.
Her knee banging into a table, making her give a muffled groan. Her hands groped out, catching a lamp just before it fell. Shaking slightly she lit it, the rays casting a warm glow over the whole room.
She turned, scanning the room. It was her own room on board the Nautilus, she wasn't near Gray, she had not drained Sawyer. It was all just a dream. She repeated the last sentence over and over again, trying to ignore the gut feeling in the pit of her stomach.
When she had drained the dream Sawyer, it had felt so good.
How could she trust herself when they found him now? She moved back to the bed and tried to sleep again, ignoring the little voice in her head that urged her to drink from him when he was found.
She would not betray the trust he had in her. She would not. She would not. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Would she?
But the memory of that all encompassing warmth, the energy she had gained, the sweet taste of his blood refused to leave her.
Mina didn't sleep again that night.
~~~
M wandered into his sitting room, where Tom was kept. He walked over to the boy and grabbed him by the face, lifting it up so he could see it the light. Frowning the man peeled back one of Tom's eyelids and peered into his eyes. M let go of the face and the head dropped limply down. The boy was still most definitely out cold. He should have rejoined the land of the living hours ago.
It was no fun having a captive to do what he liked to if the captive refused to wake up.
Half a Hour later...
Moriarty's private doctor lifted Tom Sawyer's arm, feeling for his pulse. He checked the young man's heart, his shoulder, his head. After roughly ten minutes spent examining him, the doctor backed away with a soft sigh.
"Well?" M asked. The doctor looked at his patient, barely mangling to keep the disgust he felt at seeing the man from appearing on his face. In his own mind, the doctor didn't even call him a man. But he had no choice, just like the scientists in the lower levels he knew he had no choice.
He had a wife and a child to think about. He tried to blank from his mind that this young man looked so much like an older version of his own son.
"His shoulder is infected, he is running a fever and though I can't be sure, I think due to the head injury he probably has a concussion." The doctor bent down and pulled two bottles from his bag.
"What are you doing?" Hissed M. The doctor looked surprised.
"I'm going to treat him. Isn't that what you want me to do? This bottle will bring down his fever in theory and this other bottle should help with his concussion."
"Just treat his fever. Leave the concussion." M said. "Also, wake him up."
"Ye-yes Sir." The Doctor spluttered, placing the second bottle back into his back. He turned away from it and focused on his new patent. M moved closer as well, his gaze boring into the doctors. Neither of them saw the bag open of it's own accord or the second bottle the doctor had spoken about, float up into the air. It moved backwards and gently floated behind a large bookcase. Skinner allowed himself a rare smile. He had done something that would help Sawyer at last - as long as the doctor didn't realize the bottle was missing. He had no time to do anything about this however, as the doctor turned back to his bag, bending down and picking it up. He slipped the first bottle back into the bag, giving the inside of it a quick glance as he did. Skinner froze in horror, even though he knew there was no way he could be seen.
Then the moment of danger passed as the doctor shut his bag with a 'snap', before shaking hands with M. Then he turned and walked out of the room with the heavy step of the defeated, making his way towards the cell that was his room.
The Doctor had done his job well. Already Tom was giving soft groans and slight hiccups of breath as he slowly returned to wakefulness. Skinner moved towards the door, glad the the Doctor had left it a little bit open.
Skinner was a coward in these matters.
He couldn't just stand there and watch M beat Tom senseless, then wake him and start the cycle all over again. He had to do something that would help his young friend and until M got bored of tonight's entertainment he couldn't give Tom the medicine he had stolen.
Which just left Skinner with the task of memorizing every inch of this base. Skinner had barely left the room before the first blow landed on Tom's already abused body. Tom gave a soft groan but refused to scream and give in to the monster in front of him.
M snarled, his rage taking over. He hit Tom again and again. As each blow landed Tom would give some small sound but fought against letting the scream he could feel get past his closed teeth.
The older man backed away and stared at the younger man in some confusion. Tom hung from his chains, breathing harshly. By rights he should have been screaming from the first blow.
"Americans. You all have to be so stubborn." M muttered, his gaze racking up and down the other man's body one last time, a childish pout on his face. He hated not getting his own way and right now his own way involved of lots of screaming and pain, all from Tom Sawyer.
Then a slow, sly grin slipped onto his face. He turned away, to the tray of metal instruments and picked one up, slipping it onto his hand. M stood with his back to Tom for a few long moments, enjoying the intense atmosphere. Then he whipped round and punched Tom, hard in the stomach with the metal object attached to his hand.
He was wearing knuckle-dusters.
The knuckle-duster hit Tom right on the rib that was the most tender. There was a loud crack that echoed sickeningly round the room as Tom's rib snapped.
Tom screamed.
M laughed, fingering the knuckle-duster, a smile of pure delight on his face. He moved to punch Tom in the same spot again, stopping at the last second, a happy look on his face. It slowly faded at the absence of a flinch.
//The boy must be scared of me now.\\ he thought, lifting Tom's head to get a better look at him. Sawyer's eyes were unfocused and hazy as he looking around the room. There was not a hint of fear in those eyes. M whipped his hand away from the boy in disgust. Maybe he should have let the doctor do something about the head injury? It was too late now, M was not the sort of person to change his mind if it meant showing mercy on his prisoners.
M removed the knuckle-duster and placed it back on the tray. All the boy needed was a few hours rest. Then the fun could begin again.
Slightly cheered by that thought, M delivered one last kick to Tom Sawyer's body, this time to the back of his knee. He watched with satisfaction as the leg gave out on the boy before being gingerly placed back on the ground in an automatic effort to remove strain from his injured shoulder.
Then the evil mastermind turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. He had real work to do, the fun would just have to wait.
~~~
Skinner crept back into the room a hour later. He moved steady over to Sawyer, not wanting to disturb him if he was gaining any precious and much needed healing sleep. Any hopes of this were dashed as he looked into his friends face.
Tom's eyes were wide and staring. It was clear from the complete lack of reaction he gave after Skinner said his name the the boy was past hearing. Skinner nearly tripped up over his own feet as he turned, running for the bookcase where he had hid the medicine. His one hope was that he wasn't too late. Grabbing the bottle, he hurried back over to Sawyer. His flesh was clammy, Skinner realized with growing horror. He pulled the stopper out of the bottle and gently tried to tip some of the liquid into Tom's mouth.
The American suddenly came to life, spluttering, fighting against the medicine that was trying to run down his throat, not knowing that it would save his life.
"Easy Sawyer, easy." the thief pleaded, trying once more to pour some the liquid down Sawyer.
It might have been Skinner's voice, some inner instinct or simply the fact he didn't have any energy left Skinner didn't know. Which ever one it was though, it meant that this time around, Sawyer swallowed a lot more of the medicine.
Skinner gave a sigh of relief and carefully re-stopped the bottle before placing it back in it's hiding place. He then grabbed a towel from the metal tray and wiped away all outward traces of the medicine. The last thing he wanted was M twigging to the fact that someone had treated Tom. He placed the towel back onto the tray. At that moment, behind him, he heard a shocked gasp.
Skinner turned around and paled - not that anyone would have been able to tell.
The Doctor was standing just inside the door, his mouth hanging open at the sight of a floating towel. Skinner gulped.
This really was the last thing he needed.
TBC...
Okay, Okay, I don't know very much about medicine at all. I do know you shouldn't fall asleep if you have a concussion but that's about it. So there probably isn't some kind of amazing medicine that cures concussion, but for the sake of this story, let's just pretend there is.
Thank you so much for reading this part, I hope you all enjoyed it. Now please, please leave a review to let me know what you think!
~Sethoz