A/N: Nearly done now. Only one more chapter... I can't believe how long I've jabbered on for! My god! This has to be a personal record :) Anyway, thanks so much for all the reviews. There sure were a lot for these past two chapters :S Anyone would think you're ENJOYING it! :D Hehehehe. My thanks go out to all of you, anyway, I appreciate every single one.
A few days had slipped and trickled away like the waters of a rocky stream, passing without anyone really noticing the change. Everything went on as normal, and the churning and groaning of the Nautilus' mighty engines went unheard, a familiar noise to all, and somewhat soothing to some. Work continued as usual, people milling about their daily jobs as they would, helping one another and progressing nicely in their tasks without much complaint, if any.
Rodney Skinner had spent much of the last few days in the library, trying to read, not really keen on doing anything else. He had discovered they had sailed out a few miles from New York though, far enough out so as not to be noticed, but not so distant if they wanted or needed to return quickly without delay. He doubted they would though. Their work seemed finished here.
Captain Nemo made his presence felt quite frequently on the bridge and in the engine rooms, checking everything was in order and going according to schedule, not that they were needed anywhere just yet. He had a feeling, though; that the accursed British Empire would call them sooner or later with a real mission, not some façade as it had been with Evans. He suspected them of involvement, but then again he had never been a fan of their works.
Henry Jekyll and his subdued alter ego, Edward Hyde, pottered about quietly and simply in the infirmary and his -or rather their- own quarters. He had never really been one for socialising, and out of meetings and meal times, he liked to be on his own, where he was most comfortable. His pocket watch was never far away though, hanging from its sturdy little gold chain from his waistcoat pocket. It was always close at hand when needed.
Mina Harker was where she usually was, dabbling with her chemistry and running tests that only ever seemed important to her. Her mind ran constantly over the secrets her young friend had shared with her in confidence, and she felt saddened once again. She had never expected he had been through so much difficult turmoil, and pitied him, before stopping herself, and turning her attention back to her vials and beakers.
Tom Sawyer himself was starting to grow tired of the same old scenery, and he desperately wanted his freedom back. He had been allowed to hobble around the infirmary a few times, for what little good it did him, but at least he was permitted the oppurtunity to stretch his legs. He still ached all over, sore and thoroughly battered after his ordeal, but he tried to think of other things, failing miserably in almost every attempt.
All in all, life on the Nautilus some few miles out to sea was ticking away rather uneventfully after the last week or so. Many things had happened, and now it seemed to have lulled rather peacefully. That was of course, save for the thoughts and troubles that raged internally in each and every single member of the League.
It was nothing unusual that the members of the League gathered quietly for lunch the following Friday, but there was an empty space at their table that they had grown accustomed to over the past few days. The seat next to Henry Jekyll that was normally occupied by the young and optimistic Tom Sawyer was empty, cold and abandoned, and had been for some time. It was like he was gone forever, when in truth he was wasting the hours away down in the infirmary, recovering.
Nemo had his usual place at the head of the grand table, sipping some brown tea in reflective silence, his usual blues and whites the colours of choice. His ornamental sword and scabbard hung unused at his side.
Skinner was to the left of Nemo on the side of the table, opposite Jekyll. The long dark overcoat, the trilby and the glasses were the only things visible other than the white greasepaint that served to help the others identify his mood and intention. Of course, if the man so wished, he could come to dinner completely intangible, but he had some manners at least, and chose to be seen. He made sure to cover all parts of his throat and the back of his head though, for he knew as well as the others that it was not pleasant to see the food and drink go down.
Jekyll was absent of his black jacket this afternoon, and he wore dark braces that kept his trousers hoisted up around his waist. The sleeves on his white, somewhat ruffled shirt were pushed up loosely, the cuffs still buttoned so that they only just reached up to his elbows. He seemed to be hiding something in his expression, but he was giving nothing away as usual, good at keeping his secrets to himself.
Mina sat to the left of Skinner, as always, and quietly ate her lunch. She had forgotten the name Nemo had given it, but it was actually one of the most appetising items she had sampled that were native to the man and his crew. She was pleasantly surprised. Mina couldn't help but frequently glance at Jekyll though, trying to decipher what he was hiding. She was dressed femininely in a long black skirt and petticoat with a white high-necked blouse to hide the scars on her otherwise flawless skin. She sipped her tea, thinking about her room and the unfinished experiment that waited for her there.
Of course, having grown accustomed to their numbers being lower yet again as of late, even if only temporarily, all heads turned as one when the double doors to the dining room were pushed open, and a figure limped into the room somewhat meekly. He halted just past the threshold, and a hand went subconsciously it seemed to his wounded side, where they all knew a heavy bandage had been applied.
Tom Sawyer looked a lot healthier today than they had seen him all week. There was a lot more colour in his face now, and he had regained some of his exterior confidence and attitude, although it was somewhat lulled now, suppressed. His blonde hair partially covered his right eye, slightly curled in locks as always, half blocking his vision of the room and its occupants. He was redressed in his familiar black trousers with braces hanging down unused at his legs, boots that were far beyond scuffed, a white shirt buttoned up to his chest with the sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, and a black waistcoat that may as well not have buttons, for the young man never made an attempt to fasten them. Green eyes scanned the faces, before landing on Jekyll with an apprehensive light to them.
Henry smiled, and without even moving, beckoned the younger man forward.
When Tom moved, it was clear he was in a little discomfort, understandably. He favoured his right leg, and moved with a slight limp. He tried to hide his wince as he seemed to overexert himself, but knowing that he wanted to do this small task himself, the League simply politely only half-watched him take his seat slowly, without offering to help him. He would only turn them down with that same all-American boyish smile.
Jekyll offered him some tea, and Tom nodded, probably eager to get away from the bland water he had been offered time and time again in his recovery. He had needed to build up his fluids again, and hadn't been permitted to eat much other than soups, broths or soft fruits. Mina was certain he had hated that. Tom had quite a varied taste for food, and being stuck on those few simple, somewhat bland options must have near enough drove him mad.
Even as the doctor was handing him the foods that he saw most suitable, Skinner spoke to Tom, saying, "Welcome back, Sawyer... it was getting a little difficult to be the only entertainment at the table."
Tom smiled honestly, and thanked Jekyll for giving him the food on his plate, and he started to eat quietly and steadily. The others watched him discreetly in between bites of their own lunch and over the rims of their cups of tea.
Either Tom hadn't noticed them watching, or he was ignoring them, for he made very little effort to acknowledge or challenge their observation. He simply seemed content to sit with them and eat food that had flavour, drink something with substance.
When their eyes met across the table where they sat opposite one another, Mina smiled at Tom warmly, noticing with a pleasant sensation that he returned the friendly gesture. He had entrusted her with private information, and it seemed to have solidified something between them that had always been there, but never confirmed. They trusted one another, that was clear now, and it was apparent all previously spoken harsh words of petty insult from the past two weeks or more were forgotten, brushed aside in an instant.
Mina was grateful. She had a good friend in Tom, she knew. She would have hated to lose that over a silly argument that none of them had really understood or believed in. From the way Tom acted, it was as though he hadn't cared for Anise Delacroix... but in her heart Mina knew he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. She had avoided bringing the subject up when it had been made clear on that first day since his regaining consciousness that Tom did not want to discuss the deceased Frenchwoman, and she respected that. Mina had no doubt he had been left in blissful silence internally to discuss and debate this with himself, for other than the obvious presence of Jekyll, the woman had been his only other visitor. Skinner and Nemo had truly taken the doctor's orders to let Tom rest to heart, and had steered clear of bothering him.
But Mina knew that eventually, Tom would need to talk about all of it, even if he didn't realise this himself. It was unhealthy to let it all build up and fester inside, to let his anger and regret, not to mention other feelings, swell up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he did something rash.
Making a promise to herself to make her concerns known, Mina went back to finishing her lunch. The others continued silently around her, and she was at ease.