Peace

By: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I don't own The League of the Extraordinary Gentlemen or anything in conjunction with LXG nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended. Sadly, I do not own Tom Sawyer either.

Chapter 2

The league was actually gracing the dining room with their presence … all save one. Some would argue that the one missing was not a member of the league but merely a gatecrasher. The term brought a smile to Allan's face, he happened to like gatecrashers..didn't hurt that he considered himself one of their numbers. Instantly the smile vanished as his look settled back upon the empty chair, Tom Sawyer's empty chair.

'You had to brush him off, didn't you,' Allan rebuked himself, feeling distinctly responsible for the young spy's absence. 'You're the one that bloody mentioned Harry and then when he takes a polite interest you shut him out like some rude bugger. Boy didn't deserve your gruff shoulder, Quatermain. Boy was skittish enough before …though with all the bravado he throws around it's hardly noticeable. But now you've gone and scared him off. Damn Quatermain, who needs enemies with allies like you.'

Skinner's voice brought Allan from his thoughts, "Surprised the young pup is missin'. Thought he liked eatin' almost as much as that Winchester he likes totin'."

Turning a blazing gaze upon the white painted man seated to his right, Allan defended irritably, "That "young pup" saved your invisible behind with that Winchester. He deserves your respect."

"Hold up, Allan. Sawyer has my respect but that doesn't make 'em any older…or less susceptible to a bit of hero worship," Skinner's last words were low enough to only reach Allan's ears.

Allan flinched as if struck. Did the thief know what had happened on the conning tower …had he been there in all his invisible glory! Suddenly his hand clamped around Skinner's white neck. "I warned you about sneaking around."

This scene finally drew the full attention of all the league members but not a single one made a move to intervene. The invisible thief had talked himself into trouble he would just have to talk himself out of it.

"I took that warning to heart!" Skinner choked out around the pressure on his throat, his hand desperately trying to dislodge the old hunter's grip. "It don't take a genius to see the boy admires you…and it don't take a lot of detective work to put two and two together. Last I saw Sawyer he was heading up to join you on the conning tower and now suddenly he ain't into keeping company with you…or the rest of us. Tell me I ain't wrong to guess you got something to do with the kid keeping his distance tonight."

With a curse, Allan's hand left Skinner's throat as quickly as it had come. Throwing his napkin on the table, the adventurer surged to his feet, ruthlessly shoved his chair back from the table and stalked from the room. He heard Dorian's dry voice, "Savage manners to match his savage acquaintances I'm sure," before he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Curse the bloody intuitive invisible man!" Quatermain mumbled under his breath as his long strides ate up the floor. He didn't need some bloody thief giving him a lecture …and about a subject that Skinner knew nothing about. Skinner didn't know how to treat a boy looking for guidance…looking for a father figure. The thought brought Allan's steps to a halt. 'Like you do? You were a bloody lousy father to your own son. Last thing Sawyer needs is your useless presence in his life!'

'No, the best thing you can do is brush the boy's attentions aside.' But the thought of turning the cold shoulder to the young American tore into the adventurer's weathered heart. He liked the boy…too much…for his own good and for Sawyer's good. After all, what good could come from getting too close! "None" he groused aloud even as internally he yearned to get to know Sawyer better, to let himself feel connected to another human being.

'Stop thinking of yourself for a change, old man. Think of the boy! I sense enough hurts on the young man's soul, he doesn't need you adding to that tally. Let'em go. Let'em go like you shoulda let Harry go to be his own man 'stead of a Quatermain junior. Spare Sawyer your tainted 'fatherly' attention.' Without having been aware of his steps, Quatermain found himself standing in front of the closed door to Sawyer's room. Drawing in a steadying breath, Allan took the bull by the horns and knocked briskly on the door. It was best if he broke the ties now ..delaying would only make the task all the harder.

When no response came from behind the door, Quatermain rapped harder on the door and called, "Sawyer, it's Quatermain. We need to talk." Still there was no response. Some instinct too honed to be ignored made Allan's heart clench with worry. Something was wrong. "I'm coming in," he announced as he dropped his hand onto the door knob only to find the door was locked. His worry skyrocketed. "Thomas, open this damn door now!" he roared, fear and fury a dangerous mix in the old hunter. He waited barely two seconds before he took a step back from the door and promptly slammed his boot firmly into the wood of the door, causing the door to break free of the lock and swing open.

With two lithe steps, Quatermain was in the room but the sight before him had him stumbling to a halt. Fear gripped his heart at the sight of the sweat drenched, pale, shivering figure of Thomas Sawyer lying seemingly unconscious on top of the bed. Breaking from his shock, Allan instantly came to the young man's side. His breath caught as he saw the crimson stain blossoming upon the right shoulder of Sawyer's white shirt. With dread, he lifted the boy's shirt to find that a once white bandage wrapped around Sawyer's chest, telling the hunter that this was no fresh injury.

A concerned voice caused Allan to jerk around, "What's wrong with 'em?" Skinner demanded, crossing over to be at Sawyer's side.

Swinging around, Allan snagged Skinner's arm, drawing the man's full attention. "Go get Jekyll. Now!" he barked and shoved the man back toward the door.

To his credit, Skinner gave no protests but left the room at a run.

Turning back to Sawyer, Allan was struck anew with how vulnerable the young man looked. Almost of it's own accord, his hand gently settled upon Sawyer's feverish brow. Allan, leaning down over Sawyer, soothed, "Easy, son" in a tone of voice he thought he would never have cause to adopt again…not after Harry had died. The young spy did not respond and the heat under Allan's hand did little to quiet the older man's rising concern.

Notably Sawyer began to shiver more violently. Quatermain had seen more injuries, illnesses and deaths than he could number….or cared to remember and unerringly he knew the American was dangerously close to losing his life. Suddenly he felt like he was clutching Harry in his arms again, telling him it would be alright, that he would be alright, all the while feeling that his son was slipping through his fingers and he could do nothing to stop it.

'Not this time! Not again!' Allan denied fiercely, his fear rousing him into action. Taking hold of Sawyer's white shirt, Quatermain ripped it open fully, sending buttons flying to reveal the heavily blood soaked bandage. "Bloody hell, Sawyer!" Allan swore savagely, his emotions tittering between anger and fear. Why hadn't Sawyer told him he was injured! Deftly, Quatermain drew his knife from his right boot and cut through the bandages, taking extreme care to not cause the young spy further pain.

Gently peeling the soiled cloth away from Tom's shoulder to reveal the wound, Allan sucked in a breath at the sight. "Bullet wound," he angrily growled aloud wishing he could get his hands on the bloody bastard who had shot the young man. Shoving his fury aside, Quatermain quickly withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket. Tenderly he swabbed at the gun shot wound to clear away some of the welling blood. Gaining a clearer look at Sawyer's wound did nothing to quell Allan's fears. Instead they climbed to higher heights. "A badly infected bullet wound at that," he clarified with bitterness, knowing all too well the effects that an infection had on the human body.

Knowing he needed to calm down, Quatermain silently berated himself, 'Settle down, ya old fool!' He drew in a steadying breath. 'First things first. Gotta stop this blood pouring outta the boy.' To achieve that end, he pressed the handkerchief against the wound, provoking a small cry of pain from Sawyer. Allan's eyes flew up to Sawyer's. Half relieved and half concerned, he watched the American's head roll to the side in delirium but the young spy did not awakened. "You never do anything half way, I bet," Allan surmised, his voice holding admiration and worry as he lightly brushed his fingers down Tom's face, his heart twisting painfully.

'He's so bloody young! Least seven years younger than Harry….was.' That train of thought had him recoiling his hand from Tom's face as if burned. Attempting to clamp down upon his emotions, Quatermain ordered himself to focus solely upon the wound under his hands. 'He's not your son! He's not Harry! You hardly know him! Don't go gettin' so attached. He's a bloody spy, for Pete sake! Riskin' his life is "his" morning ride to work!' Allan chided himself with some of Sawyer's own words. To Allan's frustration, none of this logic eased his overwrought emotions. Instead his concerned eyes settled again on the young American's pale, sweat drenched face. He liked the boy. Damn it all, he liked the boy a lot.

The sound of running footfalls preceded Henry Jekyll's entrance into the room.

Without turning around to view the new arrival, Quatermain snarled, "It's about bloody time you get here, Jekyll!" His eyes searing into the doctor as the man came to his side.

Henry Jekyll's come back died in his throat as he got his first look at Sawyer. Without prompting, Quatermain lifted his handkerchief from Tom's shoulder to reveal the wound to the doctor. Jekyll's eyes flew to Quatermain. "He's been shot? How? When? Why didn't someone tell me sooner he was wounded?" he demanded as he skirted around Sawyer's bed to the other side and leaned over to inspect Sawyer's wound. "You 'claimed' that you told me everything that happened since M contacted you," his voice hard with anger. He had had his doubts that the league trusted him with all the facts…and now it seemed he had proof for his wariness.

Affronted by the condemnation in Jekyll's voice, Quatermain angrily retorted, "I did tell you everything! I didn't 'know' he was hurt!"

Before Jekyll could reply, two of Nemo's sailors entered the room and placed the items they bore, namely a bowl of hot water and bandages, on the table beside Jekyll and left the room as quietly as they had entered. But not before the second man was nearly knocked over by Skinner as he ran into the room, bearing Jekyll's medical bag. "Here's your bag, Jekyll," he said, handing it to Henry while his eyes fell down to Sawyer. With a start of shock Skinner exclaimed, "He's been shot!"

"We already figured that out," Quatermain dryly bit out, watching as Henry stood up straight, turned to the table and proceeded to wash his hands.

"Was he shot at Dorian's!" Mina Harker exclaimed from the doorway, Dorian and Nemo stood at her side.

"Wound is a few days old," Jekyll supplied, drying his hands and stepping back to Sawyer's side. His eyes met Quatermain's across Sawyer's shivering form, "The fewer people in this room the better," he quietly said, his suggestion clear.

Understanding grew in Quatermain. He had been shot before. He knew the agony such a wound invoked and he didn't want to imagine the added pain a bad infection threw into the mix. Jekyll was right. Sawyer didn't need an audience for his agony. "Get out, all of ya and close the door," he ordered, pointedly looking to Skinner and jerking his head toward the door.

With a last look of worry down at Sawyer, Skinner did as Quatermain bade, shutting the door firmly shut behind himself and the other members of the league.

At the closing of the door, silence fell in the room except for Sawyer's slightly labored breathing. Ill at ease, Quatermain watched Henry inspect the wound with surprisingly gentle fingers. It seemed unconceivable that this man was also the murdering Hyde.

The doctor doused a cloth in the water and began wiping away the slowing flow of blood that still concealed the wound from his full inspection. He pressed the cloth into the wound to blot out the remaining blood, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Tom. Again Sawyer's head tossed to the other side followed by a violent shiver that coursed through the lithe agent's body.

Putting a hand upon Tom's head, Quatermain leaned down close to the injured man. "Easy son. We're gonna get ya patched up."

Keeping his voice quiet, Henry disclosed, "He had stitches but not a one's in tact." Looking up from his inspection, he found himself pierced by Allan's searing look. The hunter's threat was clear to the doctor. "The degree of infection is high," Henry stated, needing the old adventurer to see reason. The infection alone could kill the American, not to mention the blood loss and the trauma the wound itself was still wracking on the young man's body. When Quatermain's eyes darkened further, Jekyll knew what the older man was leaving unsaid but heavily implied: He dies, you die. But death did not scare Henry…more than once he had even welcomed it. Instead of fear or anger, a gentle look of compassion entered Henry's features, "I will do all in my power to save him."

"See that you do," Allan gruffly replied, his emotions leaking into his voice.

Without another word, Jekyll finished washing away the blood from the wound and set the wet cloth aside. Taking a fortifying breath, he withdrew a vial from his medical bag and doused a clean cloth with the liquid. Without looking to Quatermain, Henry instructed of the other man, his hand holding the cloth hovering above Sawyer's wound, "Can you please hold him down. I need to clean the wound of the infection. The process will be quite painful."

Complying, Allan's hands came to rest securely on Tom's left shoulder and side, ensuring that the spy did not thrash away from the aid the doctor was about to deliver. With a nod of his head, Quatermain signaled to Jekyll that he was prepared.

Henry clenched his teeth as he lowered the cloth toward the wound. This is what he hated most about his profession…delving out pain to his patients albeit in an effort to aid them. Hyde was the one that enjoyed pain…giving and even receiving it. Quelling that thought, Henry pressed the medication laced cloth firmly against the gunshot wound ravaging Sawyer's shoulder.

Without warning, a hand gripped Henry's wrist in a bone crushing grasp. Henry's eyes shot toward his patient, stunned to see Tom's fever bright eyes blazing into him.

Barely restraining the scream of pain that wanted to tear out of him, Sawyer roughly bit out, "Whatever you're doing…stop." He put more pressure on the wrist in his grasp to make his point clear.

Jekyll opened his mouth to defend himself but it was Quatermain who replied, causing Sawyer to swivel his head to the left to see his second uninvited guest.

"Settle down, Sawyer. Jekyll's here to help you," Allan softly soothed, meeting Sawyer's eyes, eyes that radiated pain and fever.

"Don't need help," Tom gruffly refuted, again turning his look upon Jekyll. With disdain, the spy tossed Jekyll's wrist from his gasp. "I think you know where the door is."

Quatermain, purposefully ignoring the tension between the doctor and the spy, challenged, "Don't need help or don't want help?"

"Both," Sawyer lowly growled, making no effort to defuse the contempt in the burning gaze he directed at Jekyll.

Finally composed enough to defend himself, Henry started out meekly, "Now I know we did not get off on the right foot…"

A bitter smirk covered Tom's pale face as he interrupted, "Right foot? You tried to crush me under some mortar and take off my head with a chain."

Henry bristled as he always did when he was held accountable for Hyde's sins. "That was Hyde…"

The American never gave him the chance to finish his denial. "You've got the same heart, the same soul. To me that makes you accountable for his sins."

Sawyer's words cut Henry to the quick. Numbly Jekyll took a step back from the spy and began dejectedly putting his medical utensils back into his bag. For being so very young, the American had exceptional insight.

Stunned, Quatermain watched Jekyll prepare to leave the field of battle, his heart ripped out by Sawyer's surprisingly brutal utterance of the truth. Narrowing his eyes, Allan studied Sawyer with new respect and fascination. Sawyer had easily brow beaten Jekyll into doing what he wanted…into leaving him alone. 'He is not just some meek affable boy like he projected. There is fire in this one's blood, a fire not so unlike my own,' Allan realized.

Knowing it was now up to him to play hard ball in order to win this match, Quatermain gruffly announced, "Well lucky for you we have two other doctors on board, Mr. Nemo's physician and our own Mrs. Harker." His eyes held the spy's with a challenge. "The choice is yours. Make it, Sawyer," he firmly ordered, his tone and unflinching look brooking no protests on the matter.

Ignoring Quatermain's obvious threat, Tom refused. "None of 'em. I'm alright," he declared, beginning to shift himself up to sit against the bed's headboard.

"Don't move!" Henry admonished in alarm, reaching out to halt Sawyer's motion. But Quatermain's arm was suddenly in front of Henry, blocking the doctor's attempt to restrain the American. Helplessly, Henry watched Sawyer painfully pull himself up to lean against the headboard. The young man's face creased with agony and his breathing became more laborious. Turning furious eyes unto Quatermain, Henry's angry words caught in his throat at the look in the hunter's eyes, a look fraught with worry yet glimmering with understanding.

"Let me talk to 'em alone," the hunter gently requested, as if the subject of his conversation wasn't sitting there catching every word.

Jekyll could not comply so easily, not when he knew time was already against them. "He's lost a fair amount of blood and his fever's still climbing…" Henry countered, adopting Allan's oblivious attitude toward Sawyer's presence. Seeing the set look in Quatermain's eyes, Henry's words faded. He didn't know the man well but he sensed the hunter would get his own way..even if he had to physically toss Jekyll out of the room to do so. Forsaking his efforts to sway either the spy or the hunter, Henry walked from the room, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closed, Sawyer and Quatermain's eyes met. In silence, they sized up one another like two predator animals. Though Sawyer barely looked alive, his face ashen as he leaned heavily against the backboard, sweat making his hair damp and pain rolling off him like some physical wave, the agent's gaze did not waiver in strength as it held Allan's.

Realizing that his usually very effective censorious look was not going to be able to manipulate the young man's stubborn will, Allan abandoned such tactics. He had told Nemo that his pride and vanity had caused him to lose someone dear. He would not let his failings cost him such an unholy high price again.

Surprising the young man, Quatermain claimed a seat on the bed beside Tom. Allan met Sawyer's wary look not with sternness but understanding. They were not so different, this young spy and him. They both craved danger…and both were made to pay the sometimes harsh consequences for such indulgences. Allan's voice was gentle and full of empathy, "You and I both know that you're in a bad way. Stitches are out, wound's infected."

Unprepared for such straight talk from the other man, Tom almost reacted to the words. Almost. Instead he let the statement go unchallenged. It was the truth after all. He had been hurt often enough to know when he was nearing the edge. The agony of Jekyll's ministrations barely reached him in that comfortable void he had so willingly begun to succumb to. And he honestly didn't know if he felt relieved or frustrated to be pulled from the void's clutches.

When Sawyer's expression remained impassive, Allan was left to press on without encouragement. "I know first hand how hard it is to put your life in the hands of a stranger," he gave a little chuckle, "and this group is the strangest I've ever met." This earned him a small smile from the pale Sawyer. "But I would be dead a thousand times over if not for the kindness of strangers. We don't travel this world alone, Sawyer." At those words Allan detected a flash of pain and denial in the young man's too world weary eyes. In that instant, Quatermain wondered if his own eyes mirrored that same look. "Least we weren't meant to," he quietly added, his own voice gruff with pain and regret.

Tom clenched his jaw, refusing to speak, to give Quatermain more insight into his soul. Internally he was shouting, 'You sure about that, Quatermain! Cause every time I let someone in, they get taken from me. Maybe I'm suppose to be alone, maybe that's the only way more people won't get hurt.'

Unable to interpret Sawyer's silence, Quatermain made his case clear. "You've got to put your trust in someone, Sawyer. I know you don't know me well…or any of the others but I think we've proven ourselves to be pretty good guys…and gal in the case of Mina. Strange, I'll grant you that, but still decent folks that came rushing to your side when they heard you were hurt."

Sawyer gave Quatermain a sharp, accessing look, his surprise and disbelief unhidden.

Allan chuckled, "I'm not lying, boy. Skinner bolted outta here to get the doctor, Jekyll ran into this room huffing and puffing like he ran a mile and Mina, Nemo and even Dorian stood outside your door asking how you were." To Allan's enjoyment, Sawyer got an embarrassed, 'ah shucks' look upon his face and dropped his gaze to his hands that rested in his lap. "We're a team, Sawyer. Let Jekyll tend to your wound so we can go after the Fantom together."

This brought Tom's head up sharply to face Quatermain. 'The Fantom! What a selfish fool I've been! Huck's the one deserving peace…peace he ain't never gonna have until his death's been avenged, until I avenge his death. It's the debt I owe him…the only worthy thing I have left to give to the man who was my best friend nearly all my life. The man who gave his life in place of my own.'

"Get Jekyll," Tom gruffly ordered, his guilt firmly guiding his path once again.

Quatermain had achieved what he had wanted to but something told the old hunter that his victory had come at a high cost to the younger man. Maybe it was the dark look that flittered across the spy's face, maybe it was the way Sawyer was clenching his jaw now against a pain Quatermain knew wasn't all physical. He opened his mouth to ask …he didn't know what…he just needed to know that Sawyer was OK, that he hadn't hurt him with his bloody ill-conceived pep talk. Sawyer never gave him the chance.

Raising his voice so it would carry outside the door, Sawyer called with disgusted defeat, "Jekyll get in here."

Henry was through the door and at Sawyer's side a mere moment after the last of the spy's words were uttered. Without giving either Sawyer or Quatermain eye contact, Henry began setting out the items from his bag unto the bedside table.

Looking to the doctor, Tom sincerely apologized, "I'm sorry." Having decided that, just because he hated himself, there was no need to tear down everyone else. His eyes studied the doctor's facial expressions.

Henry's eyes slid to Tom's. With self loathing he quietly retorted, "You spoke only the truth."

Sawyer shook his head marginally, "Every man is many things…good, bad, sinner, saint. I've always believed that if a man does good he makes up for some of the wrongs he's done," Tom softly shared, his eyes shining with compassion amid his pain.

Light returned to Henry's eyes at the young man's words. "Thank you, agent Sawyer."

"Tom, call me Tom," Sawyer amended with a small smile, earning him a full fledged smile from Jekyll.

Quatermain watched the exchange with something he could only qualify as pride…in the young American. Quickly he brushed the emotion aside. He was becoming too sentimental in his old age.

Without warning, a long held back shiver viciously shook Sawyer's frame and the young man began to slump to the left.

"Sawyer!" Allan cried out in alarm, his hands latching onto Sawyer's arms, halting the spy's collapse. When Tom's glazed eyes met his, Allan felt fear ripped through him. He had seen that look before…in Harry's eyes… right before he died.

"You're right," Tom got out with terrible effort, suddenly the void was claiming him, uninvited this time. "I'm in a bad way." With the last of his fading strength he lifted his hand from his lap and gripped Allan's arm. In desperation, he demanded, his breath coming out hard as his eyes pleaded with Quatermain, "Promise me you'll get the Fantom."

"We'll get the bugger, together," Allan countered, refusing to acknowledge the full promise Sawyer was demanding of him.

'Quatermain will see that Huck is avenged if I can't…if this void doesn't let me go this time around.' Relieved, Tom unintentionally diminished his fight against the void. Suddenly Quatermain's grasp was the only thing keeping him upright.

"No!" Allan nearly shouted as Tom body went nearly boneless in his grasp and the young man's eyes began to close. Holding more tightly to the now nearly unconscious Sawyer, Allan gave the spy a shake, causing Sawyer's pain hued eyes to flitter open and focus on him. "Fight damn you! Let me see that American spirit I've heard so much about!" He pulled Tom toward him, desperate that this young man would not slip away from him. Sawyer blinked hard, trying to fight the void, not for his sake but because the action would please the older man. "You are no quitter, Sawyer. You and I are made outta the same coin, fighters both of us. Now keep your bloody eyes open, Tom."

But the void was too strong, it's talons had already been deeply embedded in the young man long before Quatermain and Jekyll made an appearance. "Can't," Tom murmured in apology before he promptly slipped into the void.

TBC

Replies to Reviews:

Sabrina: Thank you so much for your wonderful review! I couldn't have asked for a more encouraging supportive first review for this story! So glad you believe I helped fill the void regarding Huck's death. As for your preference for an AU on this movie, I am totally in agreement with you! I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.

Ten Mara: Thank you so much for your great review! As you can clearly tell, I too am hooked on the father son relationship between Allan and Tom. That relationship was almost tangible in the movie. But I just didn't think they expressed Tom's grief at Huck Finn's death…guess that's why I'm writing this story…to solve that oversight. Thank you for liking my "insights" in the shooting lesson scene. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Julia: You totally flattered me with your kind words! Thank you! I hope I don't disappoint you. Love to hear what you thought of this chapter.

Sawyer Fan: I really value your opinion because your fantastic LXG story (lxg the sequel) got me re-obsessed with this movie and therefore inspired me to try my hand at LXG writing. (To my shame, I never gave you a review! I'm a closet reader most of the time but I truly love your story). I'm so pleased you liked my observations and Tom's reactions to Allan's attentions. I'm really interested in your opinion as this story continues!

Alone Dreaming: Thank you very much for your lovely review! I appreciate it!

Claudette: You're wonderful! Thank you so much for caring that I wrote something other than LOTR and doing me the honor of not only reading it but reviewing it too! I was glad you liked the way I showed Tom and Huck's friendship. (I have to admit to reading "Tom Sawyer" and rereading "Huck Finn" to try and get a feel for the characters). I like your insight…knowing that Tom will be changed if he forges a father son relationship with Allan! Again, I really am touched by your devotion and faith in my writing!

Kid Vicious Clone: Thank you for your kind review and your desire for more of the story. Hope you like where this story is going.

Tonianne: Thank you for your awesome review! I hope you let me know if you like this chapter as well.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story!

Cheryl W.