Disclaimer: 'The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen' movie is copyright of 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended.

PICKING UP THE PIECES

By Etcetera Kit

Chapter Thirteen: Reflections

Nemo shook his head as Skinner dealt the cards. Where the man got the idea that he did not know basic card games was beyond all imagination. Of course, games like poker relied heavily on chance and an honest dealer. He did not suppose that Skinner was stacking the deck in any way since both him and Sawyer were keeping an eye on it. And he had heard about the game last night where Skinner was keeping track of who was winning what and the odds always seemed to go in the invisible man's favor. Not that any of the shenanigans surprised him much.

He picked up his cards and studied them. It was not a good hand and judging from the expressions on Sawyer and Skinner's faces, their hands were not much better.

Skinner suddenly yawned. "Why is it that we could always think of things to do when the love birds were still here and now all we can do is sit around and play mindless card games?"

Sawyer sat up straight and pointed a finger at Skinner. "Do not start booby trapping my room again!"

"I wasn't going to." He paused. "But now that you mention it…"

The young American let out a noise that was halfway between a groan and growl and collapsed onto the couch, scattering his cards everywhere. Skinner peered at the cards he could see.

"Don't have a very good hand, do you old chap?"

"No," Sawyer replied, but it came out muffled because he had thrown one arm over his eyes and the other over his nose and mouth.

"Can he breathe?" Skinner asked Nemo. The captain shrugged.

"I suppose he will when he must."

The invisible man shook his head. "Always the calm one."

Nemo raised an eyebrow, keeping the impassive look on his face. "I don't know of anyone else in our little group who could remain so at all times."

"He's right!" Sawyer moved one arm from his face and patted Nemo on the back. He gave him a withering look. Nemo had his fill of card games and drink and all the sort of things one expects a pirate to indulge in many years ago. One night, when aboard the ship, he had been staring at the stars and realized that there had to be more to life than plundering merchant ships and finding the best tavern when in port. He and his crew were already rich men. So, he had released the previous crew keeping only his former first mate, Ishmael, and Hasaan aboard. They sailed to India, Nemo's home, and recruited a crew. Most of the men were simple farmers without a chance for a better life. They were all quick learners and were fiercely loyal to Nemo. The idea was that if Nemo got caught the crew would not be in any danger since they had not been a part of the pirate crew and exploits.

The ship, while being splendid to look upon, had been rather dingy inside from housing all the hardened pirates. The new crew made it gleaming and a true jewel, a gentleman's ship. They knew that if anything were to happen to Nemo, they would be allowed to remain aboard the ship and were to take orders from the first mate and Hasaan. However, Hasaan would be truly in charge. If Nemo were to be arrested, Hasaan was to take care of his assets and would be granted custody of the ship. If he were to die, Hasaan would get the ship and his finances would be equally divided among the crew.

But that was prospect he did not want to think about. He would like to have believed that good deeds redeemed a man in the eyes of the law, but that was not so. If he were caught, he would be tried and found guilty of his crimes from the past years. He felt almost detached as he watched Skinner shuffling the cards. Rodney Skinner was nothing more than a petty thief. He stole people's wallets and robbed banks and snatched jewelry boxes from open windows. Unlike Nemo, he did not have blood on his hands. And Sawyer… the young man was an upstanding citizen, even working for his country's government to help enforce the law. Nemo remembered the old passion he had when he first became a cabin boy on a pirate ship many, many years ago. They had been above the law and above the morals of everyone else. They had their own code and the more cutthroat and bloodthirsty one was, the sooner one moved up in the ranks. There were no heroes among thieves.

He sighed, feeling the detachment more and more. The only person on the ship he had really and truly connected with had been Jekyll. For one brief moment, Jekyll had said what truly made him edgy and tense and Nemo understood.

"Has Hyde… killed?"

"He has done every evil that a man can do. And my curse, I recall his actions."

"I sympathize. My curse, I recall my own."

And the doctor had been correct when he stated that 'his talk was all well and good but his own past was far from laudable.' Far from laudable it was and no matter how much of a humanitarian he was now, it did not erase the past.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"

That seemed to be the only song that anyone ever sang on his first ship. He remembered peeling potatoes in the galley while the crew members went about their work above. The crew had taken an instant liking to the 'little Indian boy.' He had learned to read and write from those men and fed his voracious appetite for knowledge, eventually leading into science and the conception and creation of the Nautilus.

"Let's play something other than poker." Sawyer destroyed his chain of thoughts and reminisces perfectly. He kept his expression mild, knowing that the young man had no idea of what kind of life Nemo used to have.

"What do you recommend?" Skinner asked, shuffling the cards.

Sawyer shrugged. "We used to play 'Go Fish' when I was a kid."

"Oh that's dignified," Skinner replied with a slightly sarcastic air as he changed his normally Cockney accent to something resembling upper class society.

"Poker's no fun when there's nothing to bet on."

Nemo just laughed and inwardly shook his head. These two probably did not really want him in on their card games but they probably figured it was the decent thing to do.

"Know any interesting card games, Nemo?" Skinner asked as he shuffled the deck of cards once more.

"Some. But they come from India."

"Terrific," Skinner replied. "We can become cultured." He paused. "By the way, tell the cook to quit yelling at me about all the food I've nicked."

"Did you nick the food?" Nemo asked calmly.

"Yeah, but that's beside the point," Skinner protested. "I have never seen someone so short who has such lung power."

"You've obviously never met my Aunt Polly," Sawyer muttered.

"Or listened properly when Hasaan yells at you," Nemo added.

"Oh, this guy is worse than Hasaan."

Nemo and Sawyer exchanged a glance. "I think he needs to spend a week with my Aunt Polly and then see what he thinks about the cook."

Skinner waved away all the comments. "What are we playing?"

The captain thought for a moment and then named a card game, instructing Skinner to deal seven cards to everyone. The evening should pass rather quickly teaching those two how to play a rather complicated card game.


Henry was asleep as the train barreled through the countryside and he appeared unfettered by dreams and taunting for once. Mina found it amazing that Hyde would not even leave him alone when he slept. In fact, she was not entirely sure that he slept much when they were on the ship save for when he was drunk and when they had been together. It had not even occurred to her last night that he might just remain awake while she slept. And he did sleep and not well. She did not have to ask him what the dream had been about, she knew already. Hyde…

They would have to get a carriage from the train station in Bukovina to a hotel. Then they would either have to hire horses or another carriage to take to Castle Dracula. She was not sure where they would get either but if the hotel was anything like the last one Nemo had put them up in, she was sure it would be no problem. The problem would be finding her way back to the Castle and then remembering where Jonathan had said the crypt was. All his journals had been lost when the Count came to England and destroyed all evidence they had of him. All the handwritten and typewritten journals had disappeared. Van Helsing, Seward or Godalming would have nothing to offer in this adventure either. Seemingly, nothing more than Henry would. And they would consider it a fool's errand, just like Nemo. Unlike them, Nemo did support them and give them the means to make the trip.

A fool's errand… well, she would rather be considered a fool than a great many other things she could think of. She knew what everyone immediately thought when M had mentioned her prior acquaintance with Dorian and how it may help to convince him to join the League. She could see scarlet woman running through their minds.

Perhaps she was a scarlet woman. The fall from proper society when Jonathan was killed was not an easy thing. She was a part vampire. Jonathan had died trying to undo the terrible damage that had been done. Depression must have been a normal thing for a recent widow and even suicidal thoughts. But, try as she might, she could never kill herself and she found out the hard way that she was immortal. Then the affair with Dorian, being swept up by a romantic man into a daring and exciting adventure that society condemned. That ended and the business with M started. She never knew how M knew about her and knew to recruit her. And he had to have known that she was a vampire, because Dorian needed her blood.

The train slowed down and came to a halt in a small station. She gently shook Henry awake and they left the train for the next stop in their journey.


Henry walked down a cobblestone road in Bukovina. He was not sure where he was going, but he was consciously keeping close to the hotel, not wanting to become hopelessly lost and embarrassed since he spoke no German. Not that the hotel would be hard to find since it was the tallest building in the whole village and most everything else was dingy buildings and little huts that people lived in. As he came to the edge of town, he came upon a small church that was really nothing more than a chapel.

A small graveyard was to the left of the building. The grounds were well-tended and neat, indicating that someone did worship here or at least work here. The building was gray stones and looked old from the tip of the small steeple to the crumbling bottom step. But it had a charming air to it anyways, like something old that survived the changing times and stood as a testament to those who had come before.

He walked slowly up the stairs to the church and opened the plain wooden door that had crosses carved in them. The crosses, like the door, were plain and unadorned. The church's inside was much like the outside with the gray stone. The stained glass windows were simple and almost lovely in their simplicity.

"Good afternoon, my son!"

Henry started at the voice speaking perfect English. He turned to see a tiny old man coming out of a side door by the altar. The priest came down the aisle between the pews to greet him. He had iron gray hair and was clad in clerical garb.

"Good afternoon, Father," Henry replied with a slight nod of his head.

"I am Father Fitzgibbon. Been here close to thirty years," the priest said with a smile. "What brings an obvious Englishman such as yourself all the way out here in the wilderness?"

Henry smiled. "I would like to ask you that, Father."

Father Fitzgibbon shrugged. "I was assigned to come out here as a young man. Now," he paused, studying Henry. "What is your name, son?"

"Doctor Henry Jekyll," he replied, completely forgetting to use the false name that he had used when checking into the hotel.

"And the young lady with you is she your wife?"

"You might say that."

"Ah!" Father Fitzgibbon nodded knowledgably. "Is she your mistress?"

Henry suppressed a laugh. "Oh no, nothing like that. We will be married as soon as we take care of some business out here."

Father Fitzgibbon just laughed. "I would say 'two young people out on a worldly adventure before they settle down', but I wager that neither one of you would appreciate the title of 'young'."

"It has been quite some time since anyone called me a young man openly."

"Ah well, me too," the old priest said with a chuckle. "What can I do for you? Or did you just come in the church to admire it?"

Henry looked up at the stained glass window over the altar. "It's been a long time since I have been in a church," he said softly. "I haven't felt worthy enough to be in one."

"Son," Father Fitzgibbon started. "I don't care what you've done- there is no sin that God won't forgive. All you have to do is ask it of Him."

"You think so?"

"I know so. And-" Father Fitzgibbon leaned towards him conspiratorially. "I may be a Catholic priest but I can tell you there are many things the Church upholds that I don't." The priest straightened. "You have to find the truth for yourself, find what really counts in this world."

Henry nodded, understanding what the old priest was getting at. Truth was not something that instantly made itself known. It was something that had to be sought out, gained through experience. He had thought his work with the good and evil in men would be finding the truth and inside he found his own personal hell. "Thank you, Father," he said softly.

"You are welcome, Dr. Jekyll." He looked at a watch at his waist. "I am afraid I must go- I have a house call to make, but if you need anything else while you're in town, I should be here." The priest smiled and disappeared into the side door he had come out of.

He watched Father Fitzgibbon leave and then he slid into one of the pews towards the back of the church. A large crucifix hung over the altar. His blue eyes dwelt on the grotesque image for some time, the reminder one he knew well from his childhood. He remembered asking his father why such a horrid thing would be allowed in a church, churches were supposed to be places of joy. His father's words came back to him clearly. "Henry, I know the image is not something pleasant, but it is a reminder, a reminder of what Christ went through for humanity, what He went through for our sins to redeem us."

He knew that now and knew what great courage it must have taken to willingly submit to it, how much love Christ must have had for humanity in order to sacrifice himself for the evil that they had done. He thought of all the evil that Hyde had done, every evil that a man could possibly do. It did not seem possible that it could be forgiven. It did not seem possible that Henry Jekyll would be able to have a place in heaven. He belonged in hell with Hyde. He had created Hyde and he knew that he should burn for the consequences.

"Henry, God does not want anyone to go to hell, no matter how evil they are. He is sad when people turn away from Him or are convinced of their damnation. He wants everyone in heaven with Him and all we need do is accept His love and forgiveness. That is all it takes."

His father… the man had been so resolute in his faith and convictions and so eloquent in stating them to others that no one doubted him. And his father did not mourn his faith like so many Henry had run into in his adult life, his father celebrated his faith and treated as a blessing. Throughout medical school and his early practice, Henry had tried to be like that, but life and Hyde had worn him down and taken him away from something he used to stand in awe of. Maybe it was not too late to change. Maybe it would help keep him alive in the face of Dracula.

He put his face in his arms and wept.

To Be Continued...