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 6

If Captain Nemo had been a less patient man he would have abandoned his efforts to engage in conversation with Allan Quatermain half an hour ago. Trying for the second time to wrestle the adventurer from his own thoughts, Nemo repeated with more insistence, "Quatermain?"

With a start, Allan turned to his present companion, almost as if he was only now aware of the other's existence. "What were you saying Nemo?" his tone implying that is was actually his patience being tested.

Instead of resenting the other's audacity, Nemo, discarding his study of the da Vinci blueprints of Venice, sat back in his chair and scrutinized his guest. "You can not change the past, control the present or predict the future. It is madness to try."

'Another insightful bugger! Just want I need,' Allan sourly thought. "So I am to go merrily along with the whims of fate. Then why are we even bothering to chase this Fantom?" Surging from his chair, Quatermain began to pace the small length of the Nautilus's library. "According to you, our hands are tied by some predestination, the outcome is sure."

Nemo's words were calm, measured as his eyes tracked the other man. "I said we could not control the present, predict the future…that does not mean we can not affect the present or change the future. You, however, desire certainties, assurances. There are none in this life. You and I both know that only too well."

"Oh yes, too well," bitterness resonated from Quatermain's few words.

But Nemo detected another emotion lurking in Quatermain's tone. Worry. "How is he?" he asked quietly, causing Allan's eyes to fly up to meet his own.

Allan almost pretended ignorance to Nemo's inquiry. The captain's knowing gaze halted his attempt at deception. "Sleeping," the hunter bit out like he resented the cheekiness of Sawyer's action. "Jekyll re-bandaged his shoulder, gave him something for the pain and he's been asleep ever since." Allan vividly recalled returning to the room that morning, tray of food balanced in his hands, only to find Sawyer sound asleep. The first sensation that had hit him was fear and it must have been palpable for immediately Jekyll had surged from his chair, reassuring him that all was well, that it was natural for sleep to have overcome Sawyer without much warning. Soon after Jekyll had left, Allan bestowed a feather light caress on Sawyer's wayward locks of blond hair then he too left the young man to sleep in solitude.

"He's a remarkable young man," Nemo stated with admiration, hoping to bait the adventurer into deeper waters.

Nemo's words brought Quatermain back to the present and sent pride swelling in the hunter's heart. "Yes, yes he is," Allan agreed quietly. Sighing, he reclaimed his seat.With measured words, Nemo revealed his inner thoughts, "He does not seem so young…when you look in his eyes. He too has been haunted by ghosts from his past."

Surprised at Nemo's statement, Allan began to wonder if insight was the only tool the captain had at his disposal to make such an accurate assessment of Sawyer. Sawyer's first words on the conning tower came back to him, 'Nemo told me that you hate the British Empire.' Quatermain broke the silence that had fallen. "You and Sawyer spent some time talking," his tone half accusatory half questioning.

Feeling that rough waters might lie ahead, Nemo kept his answer precise, "He asked me why each of us had joined the league. I told him what I knew."

"Regardless if it was hearsay," a sharp edge colored the hunter's words to match his glittering gaze.

Uncharacteristically, Nemo shrugged his shoulders. "He prompted me to tell him all I knew whether it was hearsay, logical deductions or truth. Since you had accepted him into our league, I did not see the harm in trusting him."

The Captain's words echoed back to Allan like a reproof. "I trust him," he insisted heatedly. "The point is you were gossiping like women in a quilting bee."

Dropping his relaxed pose, Nemo leaned forward, his eyes piercing Quatermain's. "Did I lie when I said you hated the British Empire? Did I lie when I said you were once one of its loyalist sons? If I spoke falsely, I will apologize."

With ill concealed anger Allan conceded, "No, you didn't lie, not about that."

Refusing to let Allan slink out of the corner he had been maneuvered into, Nemo pressed, "But that was not the image of yourself that you wanted to present to Sawyer, was it? It was not heroic or fanatically patriotic or impervious to the cruelties in this world."

Allan's eyes narrowed dangerously. He knew where Nemo was sketching his perfect image. "Those bloody stories about me are more fables than facts," he growled.

Raising an eyebrow, Nemo drawled, "Still, false or true, the image depicted is one every man would like to be."

Dropping his eyes to the wooden table, Allan rubbed his fingers of his right hand over a rough section of the wood. When he spoke, regret hued his words, "No man can live up to that standard, not for himself..or for those he loves. It's impossible."

"Perfection always is," Nemo replied matter-of-factly as Allan's eyes came up to meet his. "All humans are fallible…that is what keeps us humble."

Allan could not fight the smile that began to turn up his lips. "Oh then I should be very humble."

A matching mischievous smile came upon Nemo's lips, "As should I be."

"Maybe you are right," Allan sighed, "maybe I didn't want Sawyer's "hero worship" to be replaced by disappointment and disgust…not so soon anyway."
"Agent Sawyer is a man of the world, a man of your dangerous world. I do not think he believes in heroes but instead he respects men of honor, valor and compassion. Men such as you," Nemo pointedly said.

Quatermain snorted derogatorily, "I have not been those things for a very long time."

"Can I join you?" came Sawyer's quiet voice from the doorway, causing hunter and captain to swing their gazes to their newest arrival.

"It's good to see you up and about," Captain Nemo greeted, a smile evident beneath his mustache and beard as he watched the younger man enter the room with a casual stroll.

"It's good to be up and about," Tom replied, letting a small smile escape while trying to ignore the censorious look Quatermain was bestowing on him. Stopping in front of the table the two men surrounded, he quirked up an eyebrow to Nemo, requesting again if his presence was welcome.

Shooting a look of collaboration to Quatermain, Nemo found he could not snag the adventure's hot glare from Sawyer. So he made the decision on his own, "Please join us," he invited, indicating the chair beside Quatermain.

Nodding his thanks, Tom pulled out the chair and flung his frame into the seat, his motions as fluent as he could make them. Boldly he turned his steady gaze to Quatermain, daring the older man to protest his ability to be out of bed and take part in their preparations for the next day.

Anger, frustration, worry and resignation warred in Quatermain as it had since the second he had heard Tom's voice and saw the still pale young man standing in the doorway. The fool should not be out of bed, let alone walking nearly the length of the boat. However, the set look in Sawyer's eyes had warned Allan that nothing would sway the agent's resolve to be "up and about" as Nemo had so congenially said.

Inspecting the American like he would a stranger who dared intrude upon their meeting, Allan noted the paleness of Sawyer's face, the dark bruises under his eyes and the holster and guns strapped once again to the agent's lithe torso. Allan's scowl of displeasure deepened. The shoulder strap of the holster lay directly upon Sawyer's bullet wound, no doubt aggravating the wound and increasing the agent's pain. Meaningfully looking to Sawyer's guns, Allan raised his eyebrow, "Expecting trouble…here under the ocean," he scoffed.

A cocky smile sprang onto Sawyer's face. "I believe in always being prepared 'cause you never know when the natives may get restless." He leaned over closer to Quatermain and dropped his voice mockingly lower, "Thought that would be your motto too….having lived a time in Africa."

"Now you listen here.." Allan began heatedly, his eyes boring into Sawyer's goading gaze.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Nemo interrupted, "we can not waste time bickering among ourselves if we wish to foil the Fantom's plans." Suddenly he was nearly taken aback by the fierce almost identical glares that lanced into him. He had garnered his fellow league member's attention, now the question was how to harness that attention. Pointing emphatically to the da Vinci blueprints on the table he insisted, "The Fantom took those plans of Venice for a reason. We must discover that reason…before it's too late." Suddenly the two men before him morphed into the professionals they were, letting personal matters vanish and combining their formidable knowledge with his own.

Within the hour, Quatermain, Sawyer and Nemo had narrowed down their theories but before they could formulate a plan of action for the morrow, Jekyll had appeared in the doorway, bearing more dreadful news. One of his vials had gone missing and he had laid an unrelenting accusation upon Skinner.

"Are you sure it was Skinner?" Allan's question to Henry superseding the incredulous retort Tom was about to utter.

For some inexplicable reason, Tom not only liked Skinner but placed some grain of trust into his care. No, Skinner was not Tom's first suspect…his first suspect had paid him a visit this morning and kindly ransacked his possessions while he lay there too weak and in pain to hinder him.

Henry's reply was more personal contempt than fact. "Who else? You've seen how the sneaky blackguard works."

Apparently that statement was all the proof Nemo required to issue a man hunt for the invisible man upon the vessel. So it was that Nemo and Jekyll left, intent upon their witch hunt, leaving Quatermain and Sawyer to exchange a shared look. Having been participants in the throes of deep deceptions too often, neither man was willing to claim Skinner the villain yet. Not when the facts were sadly lacking and each man's gut instincts was denying that claim.

"What happened to not bickering among ourselves," Allan growled, frustrated at the divide in the league. 'Like I need another bloody problem on my hands like a traitor.'

"See, the natives did get restless," Sawyer commented, a cocky smile lighting up his face, relishing Quatermain's reaction.

Shooting Sawyer a warning glare, Quatermain ignored his companion's comment and continued on his own line of thought, muttering "That's the problem with working with bloody amateurs."

This earned a snort of laughter from Sawyer. "Guess we already know our plan for tomorrow. We'll wing it"

"Wing it! What does that mean?" Quatermain shot back, gruffly.

"Make it up as we go," Tom said, slowly, enunciating each word as if he were speaking to someone's whose grasp of the English language was vague at best. "You know, search for the bombs, find them, defuse them."

"And you know how to defuse bombs?" Allan shot back, disbelief in his tone.

Tom gave a smug smile, "Yea. Don't you?" before he walked out of the library. Without warning, Quatermain's hand snaked around his right forearm. Finding his forward motion halted, Tom met the hunter's eyes with a questioning look.

All traces of affable banter were gone from Quatermain's brown intense eyes as he stated, "We have to talk."

Tom's stomach clenched. He knew the topic the older man wanted to discuss. 'Why'd I have to be honest with Quatermain! A lie wouldn't have him looking at me with …was that look disgust, pity or concern?' "I think we better make sure Nemo and Jekyll don't turn their hunting parties into lynching mobs."

Tightening his grip on Sawyer's arm as if he feared the younger man would bolt, Quatermain refuted, "I'm betting Skinner can slip out of any noose invented. Come on," and he began to walk down the corridor, his grip forcing Sawyer into motion.

"I do know how to walk so you can let me go," Tom demanded sharply, trying to disengage his arm from Quatermain's hold and ignore his shoulder's protest at the struggle. When his comment didn't gain his release or even eye contact from Quatermain, he drolly added, "I'm not likely to turn invisible and slip away."

Without notice, Allan turned a corner, causing Sawyer to almost trip as he too looped sharply to the right. A hiss of pain escaped him as his shoulder objected to his ungainliness and the strain Allan's grip put on his arm and consequently his shoulder.

Tom's hiss of pain was like a knife in Allan's heart. Instantly he dropped his grip on the agent's arm, cursing himself for heaping additional pain on the wounded man. "I'm sorry, Tom. I …I didn't mean to hurt you," he stammered as he came to a stop at Sawyer's side, watching the pain flicker in the other's eyes.

Absently clutching his right forearm with his left hand to stabilize the arm's motion, Tom downplayed his pain as he saw the guilt in Quatermain's eyes. "I'm OK. My arm is just a little stiff."

Allan did not offer opposition to Tom's reply but instead racked his memory of the layout of the Nautilus, seeking a close room that offered Sawyer a much needed seat and would give them some privacy. Remembering that a room just down the corridor contained the ship's attempt at a garden, something Nemo had called a "hydroponics" room, Allan turned worried eyes upon Sawyer, not missing the way the young agent tightly braced his right arm against his chest. "The garden's just a few doors down. We can talk in there."

"Garden?" Sawyer scoffed even as he began walking down the corridor, Allan hovering at his side. "Can't have a garden on a boat, Quatermain?" he scoffed.

"Tell that to Nemo," the adventurer quipped back, as he stepped a few paces ahead of Sawyer and opened a door to the right.

Entering the room, Sawyer was astonished to be surrounded by plants and the poignant smell of the flowers that sat in trays on the floor. "How does he keep things growing?"

"How does this boat cut through the water faster than any other boat in history?" Allan's voice spoke from directly behind Sawyer. A moment later the door clicked shut behind him. The adventurer came to stand at his side and took in the sight of the gardens for the second time, "Man's an enigma and so are his toys."

"I like his toys, 'specially the automobile," Sawyer admired, a eager look in his eyes.

"I should have known you'd know what that contraption was," Allan retorted, putting a guiding hand on Sawyer's back. "There are a few chairs ahead on this path."

Without further prompting, Tom walked down the path rowed by plants that reached above his head and trays of flowers. Turning the corner, he saw the chairs that Quatermain had alluded to. He claimed a chair, too sorely sick of the pain to protest his need for the respite.

Quatermain claimed the chair across from him, letting the few feet between them give Sawyer the space to work through the pain. 'Pain you caused him!' he rebuked himself.

Forcing himself to release his death grip on his right arm, Tom met Quatermain's look head on, readying himself for the conversation to come. 'You opened your big mouth now you have to deal with the consequences,' he bitterly told himself. When the older man appeared content to let the silence choke Sawyer, Tom brusquely declared, "If you're afraid I'll step in front of a bullet, I won't. I was down last night but I'm not going to throw my life away. I have promises to keep."

"To your country…or to Huck?" Allan quietly asked his look boring into Sawyer, hating himself for pressuring the younger man on a subject that clearly was painful.

Cursing both his decision to lower his barriers and Allan's perceptiveness, the Secret Service agent stewed internally, 'how does he back me into a corner again and again!' Uncertain what he could say in return, Sawyer opted for a stony silence as he kept his eyes unflinchingly on Quatermain.

Leaning forward to etch his searching gaze into Sawyer, Allan spoke from harsh experience, "Some promises can't be kept and some shouldn't be kept."

"And who decides which promises to keep or which ones not to? You?" Tom acidly demanded.

Gentleness entered Allan's eyes as he shook his head slightly. "No," lightly he tapped two fingers upon Tom's left chest where his heart lied underneath, "this does," and then his fingers moved to tap Tom's left temple, "and this does."

"Lucky for me they are in agreement on this promise," Tom said, his resolve glittering in his eyes.

"You sure?" Silence fell a moment. Realizing that he had no choice but to press the issue, Allan continued, "If I had a promise I was planning on fulfilling, I wouldn't have tried to 'throw my life away'…like you did last night."

Tom surged from the chair with an expletive. "I wasn't trying to throw my life away! I just wanted…" he broke off and clenched his jaw tightly. 'No. I wouldn't say too much, not again, no matter how he tries to manipulate me!'

"Wanted what?" Allan's eyes fixed on Sawyer.

Some instinct in Tom yelled at him for a retreat. Trained to obey such commands, he started back down the path through the garden before he had consciously made the decision to leave Quatermain.

Stunned at Sawyer's flight, Quatermain stood and called after the younger man, "Getting the Fantom is personal for you, isn't it?"

The words halted Tom's retreat. Without turning around he challenged, "Just like it's personal for you." He heard Allan's approach but remained still as the adventurer came to stand in front of him.

Seeing an opportunity to break down some of Sawyer's barriers, Allan offered, "I'll tell you my reason if you tell me yours." But by the steel in the American's eyes, he knew his offer had been denied before his last word was uttered.

"Sorry but not knowing your reason isn't going to keep me up at night," Tom drawled, making to go around Quatermain but the adventurer boldly blocked his path.

"Fair enough. Seems we're at an impasse." Frustration and sorrow etched onto Quatermain's features. He had been right, he wasn't the type of person one confided in.

Detecting the dejected feelings settling on Quatermain, Tom soothingly declared, "Some things are out of bounds for us."

"Like Huck," Quatermain supplied with quiet accusation as his eyes seared into Sawyer's.

"Like Harry," Tom countered with matching accusation, daring Quatermain to deny that truth.

Neither man offered up protests in the silent stare down that followed.

Then, with conviction Allan ventured, "Maybe they shouldn't be."

Finding to his surprise that he desperately wanted to ease some of the sorrow in Quatermain, Tom offered, "Maybe they won't be forever…"

Silently Quatermain completed the end of Sawyer's sentence 'but they are right now.' With regret Allan retreated from that verbal battle and concentrated on achieving a victory he sorely needed for his own peace of mind. "Make me a promise then."

Wariness entered Tom's look and he hedged, "I'm kinda full up on promises."

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, that you won't recklessly risk your life to keep some promise," Allan implored, needing some assurances from the young man he had come to care about.

Tom's heart jolted to a stop at Allan's words, "promise me you'll take care of yourself.' Huck had asked for that promise…with his dying breath. 'That's the promise Huck made me swear to. He hadn't asked me to get the Fantom, to stick a knife deep into his gut and watch him die as I had watched Huck die. But he would have, had he had the time, the breath. He would have wanted me to avenge his death." Justice, wasn't that the thing everyone wanted …even if it were the last thing they wanted for themselves in this life! Certainly that had been the understood promise between he and Huck, the promise that, if one of their lives had been taken in the line of duty, the other would get justice for them.

Allan watched Tom's eyes flicker with a myriad of emotionsthat he could not categorize. His heart clenched at the emotion that settled firmly on the younger man's face: bitter blinding resolve.

"Sorry that's one promise I can't make," Tom replied unwaveringly. "I'll risk everything, do anything to fulfill the vow I've made." His eyes bore threateningly into Allan's. "Don't try and stop me and don't stand in my way," he ordered lowly, suddenly revealing to Quatermain the hardened man that had tracked, captured and killed criminals in the pursuit of justice. Then Sawyer sidestepped the stunned older man and casually walked out of the garden.

Something in Allan turned cold with dread and worry. He had seen that look in Sawyer's eyes before…in the mirror. 'And that's just before everything usually goes sour …and then progressively gets worse.' The adventurer's shoulders slumped under the strain. Not only did he have to save Venice from annihilation, and prevent the outbreak of a world war, now he had to safeguard the soul and life of a Secret Service spy that meant entirely too much to him.

"I should have stayed in Africa and let the rest of the world sort out this bloody mess," he growled, walking from the 'serenity' of the garden, already focused on the tasks that awaited him on the morrow.

TBC

Replies to Reviews:

Kingleby: So glad you liked the conversations between Allan and Tom as well as the depth I'm striving to give Tom. I just think he's as tortured in soul as Quatermain. Which of course makes them the perfect father/son. Thanks for your fantastic review.

Claudette: I loved when you told Quatermain to "get yourself in hand man"! The reason you're confused is Tom's suicidal tendencies weren't very defined from the start because I was uncertain of the direction the story would take. I'm very pleased that you enjoy the traits I'm bringing out in my main characters! Thanks so much for the wonderful review.

Sawyer Fan: Happy to hear that you liked the conversation between Tom and Allan. It sure is fun to envision that scene! Thanks for your much appreciated support.

StriderX: Thanks so much for your flattering review! I so love hearing that people enjoy following the intricate emotions between characters. As for your question..Yes, this story will go to the end of the movie and a little beyond. Hope you'll drop me a line again and tell me your thoughts!

Julia/Anonymous: Thanks so much for your input and support..even when I am making you wait longer than you can bear for some upcoming events in the story! I was really pleased that you enjoyed he conversations in the chapter..I'm always afraid I'm boring my readers to death with such tactics. As for writing a bad chapter…I've reread my own stories enough to know I've written some pretty cheesy stuff that makes me blush in shame. At least most of those stories I never shared with the world! Thank you again for your wonderful words of support and encouragement!

Laura B: Thanks for your continuing support for this story! Yes, it is nice to see the spark come back into Tom's eyes…even I missed it.

Alone Dreaming: I really am touched by your efforts to drop me your wonderful review! I know sometimes the old internet is against us all! Thanks for the insight on the stability or lack thereof of suicidal persons. I eat up all the knowledge I get like that! And you're right, with Quatermain's sharp eye on him, Tom wouldn't have a chance to slip back into depression and do something 'stupid'. As for your request for Hyde…I'm a little hesitate to tackle that character. However, since Hyde seems pretty prominent in the second half of the movie, it seems like a perfect opportunity for me to try my hand at his character and hopefully give you what you want. I'm not promising a lot of Hyde but I'll try to sneak him in. Glad my crazy dialogue made you laugh…when it was suppose to of course! You gave me a wonderful compliment when you commented on my writing style/grammar. Lacking a college education, I really struggle to remember my old grammar lessons! Thanks again for such a wonderful review!

Ten Mara: Thank you for your great review! And I just had to let Tom know that Allan had kicked in his door, it represented so much more than words could say. As for the continuing closeness between Tom and Allan…well I hope this chapter showed the delicate balance of their relationship. As for which "version" of the scenes I'm going to reflect in this story, I'm sticking with (as you can tell in this chapter) with the Movie house version. I loved seeing the deleted scenes but they revealed too much that I have worked really hard to conceal namely Huck, his fate and his friendship with Tom. Hope you don't mind the track I'm taking with my story. Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.

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

Cheryl W.