A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Thanks for all the reviews. It was an awfully difficult decision I'd been battling with since day... four (?) about whether or not to kill off poor Anise. Well, I've been rather mean to poor Tom lately, haven't I? Not to mention you guys! Hanging there, I see... or hope, on the edges of your seats. Want to find out if I killed poor Sawyer or not... ;)
Skinner paced in the large room, the table before him bare and ignored save for a simple vase of white flowers. He gave them little attention, and waited impatiently for some news of Sawyer. They had managed to carry him back to the Nautilus after he had passed out. Jekyll had seemed quite concerned, and Skinner could understand why... he had, after all, seen the dagger wound.
"What's takin' them so long?" he asked of no one in particular. Only Nemo occupied the room with him, jotting something down in what looked like a log of sorts. Maybe it was a diary... Skinner didn't know, and right now he didn't care.
"Patience is a virtue, Mr Skinner," was all the other man said, and it was with that same irritating calm that he always had about him.
Skinner rolled his eyes behind his glasses, knowing that Nemo wouldn't have been able to see the action anyway, and continued, "Yeah, a virtue I don't have obviously. There should have been word by now!"
"Mr Skinner," Nemo began, and stood from his writing, leaving the pen and the logbook on the table as he did so, "there is no need to panic. Dr Jekyll and Mrs Harker are perfectly capable, not to mention my own medical staff. Do not worry yourself with Mr Sawyer's condition."
"You're tellin' me you're not concerned?" Skinner inquired at once, standing facing the Indian man now, fully aware of the tone that his voice carried... it was far from polite.
Couldn't Nemo just show emotion for once? He was a bit like a blank artist's canvas, and it was starting to grate.
"Of course I am concerned," Nemo replied immediately. "But there is no need to panic. I have faith in Jekyll and Harker, and my own doctors, not to mention Sawyer's will to survive."
Skinner sighed. The man had a point... damn him.
Henry let out a long sigh as he stepped out of the infirmary aboard the Nautilus, a cloth in his hands, which he was using to wipe them clean. He was filthy and dishevelled, and in good need of a wash and change of clothing.
Mina Harker was waiting for him, her hair tied back roughly in a ponytail. She had left the room some time ago to give Henry the space he and the other doctors had needed. She turned at once upon seeing him.
She did not need to speak, to ask questions. Her queries were all over her face, clearly illustrated in her blue eyes as she stared at him expectantly.
Henry sighed again, going to dab his forehead with the cloth before realising it was bloody. He hesitated, and tossed it aside, retrieving a fresh handkerchief from his pocket, and using that instead.
He only realised he had not satisfied Mina's curiousity when she asked, "Well?"
"Oh, my apologies," he mumbled with a forced smile. "We were lucky... he was lucky."
"He's going to be all right?" Mina looked like someone had just taken a great weight off her shoulders, as though she could finally breathe properly once more.
"He'll be fine after a lot of rest and the correct care. Evans missed whatever he was aiming for anyway... nothing vital was hit." Jekyll's smile became genuine. Their young American friend was going to survive, and Edward was being pleasantly silent.
Mina looked practically ecstatic now, and even laughed with relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought we had lost him for sure."
"So did I for a minute there," Henry agreed, feeling very tired himself now. He saw the eager look on Mina's face, and added, "He's asleep now. You can see him later, Mrs Harker. He needs his rest."
"Of course," she muttered in acknowledgement, "of course." She nodded for emphasis, and then persisted by saying, "We must inform the others. I expect they are awaiting word."
Henry nodded, and accompanied her, no longer bothered by the state of his attire or self. They had seen him at his worst, and this most definitely was not it. He was fully dressed at least. He couldn't get the satisfied smile off his face that always arrived when he helped someone in one form or another. He had just saved a friend's life, with Mina's help of course, and there was a great swell of relief in the pit of his stomach.
They arrived in the stately room they used daily for meals and meetings, and two sets of eyes turned to them at once. Skinner looked about ready to explode if he didn't hear some good news soon. Nemo, as always, looked strangely calm. He merely raised an eyebrow in anticipation of what they had to say.
Skinner realised that the both of them were smiling and laughed quietly before exclaiming, "Thank god!"
"I know the feeling," Mina acknowledged, and stepped further into the room, coming to stand beside the invisible man.
Skinner was beaming now and looking to Henry, as if waiting for an explanation of their friend's condition.
Clearing his throat, Henry said, "All we need worry about now is keeping him comfortable and the like." He paused to take in their expressions. He felt on show, and it was a little unnerving, but he pressed on nonetheless, "I- we..." he corrected remembering Mina's assistance and Nemo's doctors, "managed to stop the bleeding. Luckily Evans missed whatever his target was, and we just need to ensure we change his bandages regularly. Other than that, it's just as I said... keeping him comfortable."
"Sawyer'll love that," Skinner chuckled. "Being in a hospital bed isn't far from being pampered, especially if your nurse is-"
He received an elbow in the ribs for his troubles, but still laughed, relieved obviously. Mina gave him a reproachful look with half a smile on her lips and rolled her eyes. His light-hearted quips just showed he was comforted by the news Henry and Mina had provided. He was grateful a friend was going to be all right.
Henry remembered what had happened at Evans' home then, and suddenly found himself concerned and asked himself, -even though Sawyer would recover in body- would he recover in mind? He had been through quite an ordeal... and seen Miss Delacroix -whom he had clearly cared for to some degree- die. There was an uncomfortable sensation in Henry's stomach once again, and he felt oddly guilty for leaving all of the bodies in that mansion. The authorities would no doubt investigate eventually, but he had to live with the knowledge that he had abandoned them.
It wasn't his fault, or his problem; he knew... there was just always something about Henry that made him feel at fault in most situations that went rather... wrong. He worried for Sawyer then, and could not shake off the concern even as Nemo called for dinner to celebrate the wonderful news.
It was quite a time before he managed to open his eyes, sore all over and finding himself in a completely different environment than when he had last been conscious. He was no longer in the generously furnished home of Charles Evans. He now found himself in a rather stark, white-walled room that could be nothing other than an infirmary.
When he felt the familiar shudders and slight quaking reverberating all around him in the bulkheads that surrounded his bed, he realised just which infirmary this was. The Nautilus. Jekyll and the others had brought him back to the submarine.
Tom Sawyer tried to sit up in the slim bed, regretting it at once. His side burned madly, and he winced and hissed through clenched teeth, remembering the stab wound he had obviously survived.
"Careful, Mr Sawyer," came a voice from the other side of the room. A figure emerged, and he realised just whom the voice belonged to. He chided himself for not instantly recognising their tone and words, for she was, after all, the only female on board. Mina Harker strode over to him, smiling pleasantly, and seated herself at his bedside, gently pushing him back down to the pillows as she did so. "You are far from healthy, and the doctor's orders are lots of bed rest and relaxation."
Tom groaned quietly, and closed his eyes. How long had he been asleep for? He couldn't remember anything after collapsing against Nemo in Evans' home... Evans... he was dead. He wanted to smile, but found he couldn't.
Anise... she had died as well, requested to be killed. His heart and everything else sank to the very pit of his being and he felt truly miserable. Surely they should have been able to do something for her. They had all this technology and advancement, and they had acted as though she was a lost cause.
Maybe she was, he thought and sighed as heavily as he could manage. He felt bruised and battered all over, and his shoulder stung slightly from where he had been slashed with a knife. He could feel the generous bandaging around his stomach where Evans had attacked him with the dagger, and there was a dressing on his arm, though it was considerably smaller. The glass... he remembered now.
I must look a mess, he thought without humour, shaking his bangs of blonde tousled hair from his eyes and failing. He frowned and gave up, staring at the ceiling above him for lack of anything else to do.
Tom only remembered his company when she spoke, saying, "How are you feeling? You've been unconscious for almost two days now. We were told by Henry to let you rest."
His green eyes met her blue ones, and he tried to smile. He realised he must have failed by the expression that clouded over her face, something like regret. "I'm fine," he managed to mumble, and tried to identify the look on her beautiful features.
"I am sorry, Tom," she said to him then, and lowered her gaze. "I know you cared for Miss Delacroix-"
"She lied to me," Tom interrupted, and looked away, eager to change the subject.
Mina seemed to sense his urge, and said to him, "You must be hungry, or thirsty at least. We should get you something to eat and drink, if Henry will allow it. I will be back shortly." She smiled at him briefly, and then stood to exit, leaving the door ajar as she went.
Tom stared after her, and then grumbled, feeling too much like a helpless patient just lying flat on his back. There was a sort of headboard behind him for resting on, and ignoring the discomfort that rose up in him with the movement, he shuffled his pillows up and back, and sat up in a kind of half-slouch.
That's better, he thought with a sigh, able to see the rest of the room effectively now. He held a hand to the blankets covering his side then, as it seemed to want to punish him for overexerting himself. Tom tried to ignore it, to no avail.
It wasn't long before Mina returned, a small tray in her hands. He glanced to her and wondered why she was hanging around instead of Dr Jekyll fussing over him, checking he was still healthy and in the land of the living. Tom didn't really mind... it just confused him somewhat. Then again, there was very little about this whole situation that didn't confuse him.
He had started to piece it all together when he had been locked in that cell, but had never really let it occur to him in full what it all meant. Anise had been the bait... that was obvious. Their meeting had not been by chance, and Evans had probably staged the whole thing, right from the assassins to the murders of world leaders, which had been the lure for the League.
How could we have been so stupid to fall for that? How could I have been so stupid?
Tom wondered if everything would have gone exactly the same if it had been centred around Huck instead of him. What would have been his reaction in that situation? Would he have still fallen for Anise so blindly? He should have doubted her as Mina had, as he was sure at least one of the others must have as well.
"Well, Henry assured me that you can safely eat things that won't upset your stomach too much," Mina was saying as she set the tray down near him. He wasn't hungry... he'd take whatever she'd brought him to drink though. His throat was unbearably dry. "I'm afraid you'll just have to settle for water for the time being." She smiled apologetically.
Tom moved to shrug, but thought better of it. "That's fine," he muttered with very little effort, and accepted the glass of water from her. He drank some of it steadily, and handed her back the half-emptied beaker. She took it with a smile, apparently satisfied to see him on the road to recovery.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, and he eyed the tray she had brought with her. It seemed she had raided the kitchens for the most bland and unappealing foodstuffs she could find. In a bowl there appeared to be some kind of soup or broth, and lying nearby was a banana.
Tom shook his head. "Not really. Thanks though."
"That's quite all right," she acknowledged politely and sat herself back down. "We were all worried about you for a while, you know. For a time we thought our numbers were going to drop once again."
Why did she have to pick this topic? Why so morbid? He stared at his feet under the blankets, and remembered Evans' damn cane-sword catching him in the leg. That was going to hurt for a few days.
Mina had selected the most unwanted of discussions for him. He always felt partly, if not wholly, responsible for Allan Quatermain's demise back in M's Mongolian fortress, and Dorian Gray... well, that bothered him very little in truth. But it did always make him think of his childhood friend, Huckleberry Finn, whom he had always looked on like a brother of sorts. They had always had their fun together with their childish adventures. Right now, he could remember very little about the escapades themselves. He just recalled how his friend had always laughed at Tom's ridiculous jokes, and how he had always made him feel important and even marginally intelligent.
"Are you all right?" Mina asked him gently, as though speaking louder would worsen his condition. She had obviously noticed the look of great melancholy that had swept over Tom's young face like a shroud, and was concerned.
Tom glanced to her briefly, and sighed. "Yeah... I'm just thinking."
"What about?"
The look on her face was hard to deny. He couldn't just ignore her question. True, she had said harsh words recently, but hadn't he returned the favour rather unduly?
"There was something I didn't tell you about me and my reasons for chasing the Phantom," Tom divulged, and he could see the curiousity and perhaps even slight suspicion in Mina's eyes.
With that, he started to tell her everything Anise had heard in his cabin, and she listened intently and with sincere compassion.