A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! Brings a smile to my face every time I get one :) See? I know I'm taking a long time, especially on the angst factor I've been promising, but I swear it's coming, and I am sorry! Don't hate me! This is a bit of a mushy chapter, but it had to be done. Sorry again! *hides*
Her footsteps were silent as she paced her way through the Nautilus, every part of her aching in some way. Her heart, her head... everything about her seemed painful. None of this was how she wanted it. She wished nothing more than for all of this to be some huge mistake she could just forget.
Oh, how perfect that would be; to simply go to sleep, knowing that when you woke up, everything was going to be fine.
She found her feet wandering of their own accord towards a certain person's room, knowing very well that he may be sleeping himself. She didn't even register this as she knocked, perhaps a little too quietly. She thought he might not hear her.
Within a matter of moments only, a very dishevelled form appeared at the doorway, squinting sleepily against the light outside their room. He rubbed his eyes, and looked at her with more focus then, as he asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Anise mumbled, lying. "I just... I just wanted to see you."
Tom stared at her, bemused for a moment, and then stretched the door wide open so she could slip in under his arm. He closed it quietly behind her, and tried to find a lamp in the dark.
"Dammit, maybe I should have done this part first," he grumbled, even as Anise reached out and lit one for him, right under his nose. He took a step back from the light as it shone in his eyes, and Anise threw him an apologetic but slightly humoured gaze.
Anise recalled the part of her evening that had spurred her recent action. Mrs Harker had also revealed to them that the hair, which had been discovered not far from here, also belonged to the werewolves, possibly the same ones.
She didn't want to think about that at all. She wanted to wash her mind of it all, and there was only one thing she could think of that would do.
And he was standing staring at her, still a little drowsy from the looks of it. His shirt was creased as though he had forgotten to undress before falling asleep, though he had removed his waistcoat and tossed it precariously at the back of the desk's chair. His hair, if possible, was in an even worse state than normal, locks of it hanging disobediently in his green eyes as he watched her.
"You sure you're okay?" Tom probed, and almost fell over his own discarded shoe on his way to sit himself on his bed. She smiled, and then it was gone from her face again.
"I am certain," she mumbled. "I just... did not wish to be alone tonight."
Tom nodded, and sighed heavily, running his hands over his handsome face as though sleep wanted to reclaim him at that very moment.
"My apologies," she said quietly, "I have awoken you."
"No, no," Tom assured her with half a smile, "it's fine."
Anise wasn't convinced, but walked over to him, and stood before him, staring at her own feet. She felt miserable, absolutely rotten. She wished for nothing more than to be able to share her feelings with him, but knew this to be impossible.
He reached out his hand, and took hers in it. "You're freezing..." came his quiet voice as he looked up at her. "Something's wrong."
She couldn't debate this with him anymore, and gave in to what ate away inside of her, and her fingers grabbed in his hair, pulling his head back and up so she could kiss him forcefully.
He reciprocated for a short while, before he wriggled out of her grip and pulled away gently, not sure if he should smile. He had managed to retreat further onto his large bed. Anise stared at him, she realised, with very little in the way of expression on her face.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asked of her then, narrowing his eyes at her -what appeared to him- odd behaviour.
Anise knelt on the end of the bed, and offered him a feeble smile, crawling over to him, saying, "Would you rather I left?"
Tom shook his head slowly, as if in a daze, and stared right into her eyes.
"Then why shy away from me? Did I hurt you?" Her fingers played gently through his hair this time. She was genuinely sorry if she had, and wished to know the answer at once so she could apologise.
"No, it's not that," Tom told her quietly, "it's just... I've never seen you act like this before."
"Well best to see it now then," Anise whispered in his ear with a smile, a real smile crossing her lips this time. "This way, you will not be shocked in future."
Tom laughed quietly, and let her push him down to the mattress. She hovered over him, her hair dangling very close to his face. His hands came up and tucked it behind her ears.
She leaned down and kissed him gently this time, to make up for her brash actions before, and lay down beside him, her right arm draped over his chest. He was so warm she never wanted to move. She realised only then that Tom's left arm acted as a cushion, and she was moving to apologise when he smiled at her. Apparently, he didn't mind. He was comfortable too.
Sighing heavily, she leaned into him, and tried to sleep.
Some time later, lying in the dark, Tom woke slowly and unsure as to why. He could feel Anise lying partially on top of him, and then he felt the not so steady way in which she breathed.
She was awake.
His fingers traced along her bare arm, and he only reached over to turn on the light quickly when she gave a dull hiss, as if in pain. The light filled the area near the bed, and he propped himself up on his available elbow, looking at her skin, where there was a very noticeable gash on her left arm that he had failed to see before.
"Oh my god, what happened?"
Anise sat herself up a little, pulling some of the sheets with her, and tucked her hair away from her face. She looked ashamed that she had let him see this.
Tom's brow furrowed with apprehension, and he looked her in the face. "When did that happen?"
"It was when we... with Evans and his men... I must have scraped my arm on the fence. I did not want to make a fuss."
"Are you serious? You should have said something. Jekyll could have-"
"No, Tom, really I'm fine," Anise insisted with a light smile, "it's nothing." Then she added, seemingly as an afterthought, "I've had worse."
Tom stared at her in disbelief for a long time, wondering why she hadn't at least told him that she had been hurt. No matter how inconsequential she thought it was, it was an injury nevertheless.
"I'd feel better if you saw someone about it," Tom told her sincerely. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Tom," was all she said at first, and her hand stroked his face as she lay back against him. "I appreciate your concern, but it is not needed. You just startled me before. It does not pain me."
Tom was unconvinced, but what else could he do? He let his head find the pillows once again, and he stared up at the ceiling in deep thought as Anise deactivated the lamp, casting the room into darkness again.
Anise lay very still against him; even as she felt the gentle rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that told her he was in fact deep in sleep. She doubted he would wake for some time now. He already had once, and now, when she shifted slightly, he did not stir.
She looked at his face as he slept, amazed at how innocent he appeared, and felt the great sorrow and guilt wash over her face for what had to be the hundredth time since that evening's action.
Her fingers playing lightly over his chest as it rose and fell, she recalled her time with him, and how she had -or thought she had- gotten to know this man. How could she go against all of that and do what she was supposed to do?
It wasn't just Tom either... it was the others. She genuinely liked them... except perhaps Mina. The woman despised Anise, and the feeling was quite mutual now. But the others, Skinner, Jekyll and Captain Nemo... she had nothing against them.
She so hoped to hear something different tomorrow. Time was running out fast, and she wished more than anything that Evans would change his mind. How could he ask this of her when he had to know how she felt on the matter? How could he be so cruel?
He is Charles Evans, her mind answered for her, and she sighed sadly, trying not to look at Tom at all as she thought about what she had to do.