A/N: All right. All things that were confusing in my last chapter shall be explained in this one. Never fear. Hm, the general consensus so far is that Dr. Owen is really creepy [well, was really creepy. He's dead now.] Good. He was supposed to be creepy! [And, believe me, it was fun to let my demented side run wild while I was writing…] XP Also, for all of you DTG-ers who feel bad about torturing someone with amnesia, don't worry – I can bring Davis' memory back for the purpose of the DTG parody fic, but for now it's fun to have him not remember a darned thing. XP
Chasten-chan - I'm glad you like it!
morph - You really enjoy torturing Davis, don't you? You are very vicious!
LotRseer3350 - Do you remember when Quatermain said that M had to be taken alive if his secrets were to be uncovered? Same thing goes for Mr. Reed. XP
funyun - Reed had the help of my father's construction company, that's how he got his base built so fast! [Ok, not really. My dad doesn't work for evil people.] Hehehe, look, I'm advertising. Dad should pay me for that. XP A skin graft scar on your right arm? I have a scar on my neck that makes me look like I had my throat slit. [I didn't really, but it's fun to tell people that!]
Hoshii-chan - Don't feel sorry for Davis. He's not worth it. XP
schizomaniax - Yay for clever Tom and twisted Dorian! Dude, I love Slinkies! ::sings:: "Slinky, slinky. It's more than a toy, it's a friend…!" [I'm not particularly fond of Doritos, though. I'm more of BBQ Lays girl.] Hm… Pyro in the DTG? Sounds kinda scary. I doubt Skinner has anything left in his closet – we've taken everything… haven't we?
Niani - Now, when you say "Skinner torture," do you mean torturing Skinner, or having Skinner torture someone else?
Lady Moon3 - Well, you just wait… the guilt is about to set in! Urk, what suicidal thing, might I ask?
Oh, just a DTG note – when I asked for names, I really don't care if it's your real name or not. I just need something by way of a nickname that I can call you in the fic – something simple, and preferably devoid of any numbers [so, funyun is perfectly fine.] If you don't want to give that info in a review [which is understandable] you can e-mail it them to me. [For those of you who are 'anonymous' reviewers, I'm sorry you can't access my e-mail address.] Okey-tay, enough of that. Onward!
Sleep evaded Skinner. The bandages on his hand and cheek served as constant reminders of what he'd done – he'd killed someone. Now, not only was he a thief, he was murderer too. True, Owen had been a madman, and probably responsible for his share of murders, but still… he was dead by Skinner's hand. Skinner had never killed anyone before. He would knock people unconscious – that was it. Just grab a book or a gun and beat someone with it, never kill. Mina killed to eat, Sawyer and Nemo killed in defense and Jekyll… well, Jekyll never killed – that was Hyde's job. 'Great,' Skinner thought bitterly. 'Just toss me in the same category as Hyde and Dorian.' He slid out of bed, resigning to the fact that sleep would probably elude him for a very long time. The gentleman thief pulled on his coat and headed for the deck.
The Nautilus had remained docked in Sweden. Even with Reed in captivity and the base destroyed, the League did not want to risk leaving any loose ends. After all, a loose end was the whole reason for their recent ordeal anyway. Everyone had been mystified, Tom especially, as to how Reed had survived Quatermain shooting him. Tom had been standing right there and he could've sworn Reed had died. No one knew how he'd survived, except Reed himself, and he wasn't telling. Davis was another issue altogether. The League had agreed to take the invisible man to the nearest town and leave him, to which Davis responded with very loud pleas, begging the League not to abandon him somewhere with no memory of who he was. So, until the League could figure out what to do with him, Davis was living on the Nautilus, much to the displeasure of everyone else on board.
On his way out, Skinner slipped past the infirmary, and peeked inside before he continued on. Cabrilyn lay in one of the beds in blissful unconsciousness. Jekyll had done what he could, but he had nowhere the surgical skill that Owen had. Skinner worried for her constantly. Her wounds were not fatal, but the trauma had done its damage. She would be in that infirmary for a while. Every time Skinner thought about what Owen had done to her, somehow he felt his murdering Owen was justified, but it was a fleeting feeling. Murder was murder.
It was freezing cold on the Nautilus' deck, but Skinner didn't care. He'd been in a daze since the whole of what had taken place in Reed's fortress had sunk in. 'Being part of the League is not the most joyful of occupations,' Skinner decided as he stared out at the dark ocean waters. 'Everywhere you turn, someone's dieing, or killing…' He sighed. He was exhausted, but his restless mind wouldn't let him sleep. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to sleep anyway, for fear of dreaming.
"Having a pity-me party?"
Skinner chuckled mirthlessly, not bothering to turn around. "What the hell do you want Dorian?"
Dorian, in all his semi-transparent glory, strode up beside Skinner, a smirk playing on his face. "Not in a very good mood, are we?" The gentleman thief merely glanced at Dorian and offered no reply to his snide remark. Dorian raised an eyebrow at Skinner's silence. "Obviously not," he said, answering his own question. Dorian leaned against the rail and began humming softly.
"You're very annoying, do you know that?" Skinner said agitatedly.
The immortal laughed. "And you're not?"
Skinner issued an annoyed sigh. "Would you just go away?"
"Oh, come now," Dorian said. "Rogues and murderers cannot fall out."
That caught Skinner's attention. He had not told anyone he'd killed Owen – it was something he would rather keep to himself, at least for the time being. He stared at Dorian, waiting for some explanation for his prior remark.
After a while, Dorian shrugged. "Alright, so you don't like the company of rogues and murderers." Then, as an afterthought, added, "You're on the wrong ship, then."
"Goddamn ghost," Skinner muttered. He really hated Dorian and his cynicism right now. Dorian chuckled softly at Skinner's remark, and then went quiet. For a long time, the only sound was the lapping of the ocean waves. At length, Skinner asked, "How can you live with it?"
Dorian was taken aback by the sudden question, but more so by Skinner's serious tone. Nonetheless, he replied with a sarcastic, "I don't live, remember?"
Skinner rolled his eyes. "I mean, how do you live with your conscience?"
The immortal chuckled. "I got rid of that wretched thing a long time ago," he replied matter-of-factly.
'Of course,' Skinner thought. 'Only Dorian would regard his conscience as a 'wretched thing'.' Then a thought occurred to him that made him think that Dorian was not completely devoid of morals. "Then, why did you help us?"
"What do you mean 'help'? I never helped," Dorian said defensively.
"Oh yes you did," Skinner said. "We'd all be at the bottom of the ocean right now if not for you. You helped. Why?" In response, Dorian scowled. This conversation had taken a wrong turn as far as he was concerned and it didn't need to go any further. Skinner chuckled lightly at the immortal's silence. So, perhaps Dorian had a conscience after all, he just wouldn't admit to it.
Dawn came, but it came slowly for Skinner who had only caught little naps the entire night. Come breakfast, he was exhausted and didn't have much of an appetite. He only poked idly at his food with his fork, paying little or no attention to those around him.
Tom exchanged a worried glance with Mina. Skinner had been a wreck since the fortress. No one knew why either. Skinner had told them that Owen died when the building collapsed on him, and the reason he had been covered in blood was from his trying to free Cabrilyn. No one knew what had really taken place, which made Skinner feel that much more distant. He knew that the others did not think very highly of him, but he would much rather not change their opinions by telling them.
"So," Tom said in attempt to end the uncomfortable silence around them. "How's Cabrilyn doing?'
"Oh, um, she should be awake by now," Jekyll replied. "But she received quite a shock."
'You have no idea,' Skinner thought grimly.
"Those bandages will have to stay on for another couple of days," the doctor continued. "She's lucky." He cast a glance down the table at Skinner, who issued no visible reaction. It went quiet again. Tom's attempt a conversation had died, and he didn't try to resurrect it.
After a while, Skinner set down his fork, and without explanation, left the dining room. The others made no argument, they just watched him go, concern on their faces. They had never seen Skinner so somber, and it worried them. After Skinner's exit, the silence remained for a long while until the sudden din of pots and pans crashing to the floor shattered it.
"I'm sorry!" Davis called from the kitchen.
Tom groaned. "Davis! Get out of there!" He called back. Without any remembrance of his military training whatsoever, Davis was a bumbling idiot. He was constantly knocking things over, dropping stuff, or running into things. It was pitiful really. Davis had been a clever man, albeit, a wicked man, but clever nonetheless. Now, though, he was a whimpering, uncoordinated fool. To make matters worse, Jekyll had surmised that nothing short of dropping another building on Davis would get his memory back. So, they were stuck with Davis and his clumsiness for a while.
Davis stumbled into the dining room, having been rudely ushered out by the cook. He moodily brushed off his shirt and pants, borrowed from Tom after much negotiation. "Some people!" He said, and then nearly withered under the look Nemo gave him. Davis chuckled nervously. "Heh, heh… erm… I think I'll be going now," he said and quickly left, nearly upending a chair as he went.
"Remind me why we keep him around?" Tom asked, rubbing his temples.
Jekyll chuckled. "Conscience."
A/N: Wow. This chapter got kind of angsty. Oh well. Angst seems to be part of being in the League. A few more chapters, and this loverly piece of work should be completed! [I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing…] Right-o, remember to send me your DTG stuff!