Chapter 6 - Troubled Waters
English Channel: August 29th

After an imperceptible amount of time, Nemo found himself becoming aware of his own existence once again. Agitated and anxious, the return from the depths of unconsciousness was an uneasy one. He felt so weak and sluggish, so sore and battered...

Pain swept up to meet him but it was a dull and distant sensation. For a moment he did not understand why he was hurting. Everything felt so washed out and clouded but his thoughts sharpened as he pulled himself together. How had he come to be unconscious? Of course, the attack, the monsters and that man... But what had happened since?

Nemo managed to pry his eyes open. A stinging light flooded into his vision, causing him to reluctantly close them again. It seemed that he wouldn't be able to get a proper look at his surroundings quite yet.

One by one, the rest of his senses began to clear again for him to depend on. A chill slithered around his torso, like a frigid snake scratching and squeezing at his flesh. His shirt had been removed. The pain was starting to become bolder now. The more he came round, the more intense the pain he acknowledged. Whatever drug he'd had forced into his system was fighting to keep him under.

The smell of cleaning alcohol hung in the air. Nemo swallowed back a dry throat and the rusty aftertaste of blood filled his mouth, or was it already there? His concern grew for himself as did his need to act against whatever it was he faced. Was he in danger?

"He is beginning to stir, Lupin," someone close warned. He spoke French but he had said enough for him to determine something important. This voice was new and did not belong to any French speakers on board the Nautilus. He wasn't on his ship, he wasn't safe and despite his unease, he could do nothing. Nemo had never felt more feeble. He wanted to rest and sink back into the painless sea of unconsciousness, but he needed to know where he was, what these men were doing to him.

"Keep him still for me. I'm not finished yet," Lupin instructed. Nemo recognised his voice… Lupin? It took him a moment to remember where he had heard that name. It came to him quickly: the man from the boat. The man who had overwhelmed him in that impossible fight. It was him! It was enough to confirm he was being held captive. His stomach flipped with dread. He too spoke French but it did not matter to him. The captain understood them word for word.

Nemo had no idea what needed 'finishing', but he was not going to lie there and wait to find out. He tried to bring his hand up to his aching chest, but it would not move. He tried the other arm but it proved to no avail. That was when it became clear in his mind that, judging by the cold, firm nature of the surface beneath him and the aching pain in his shoulders and neck, he was bound to a table.

It seemed so obvious now that he was awake enough to pay attention. He could feel the ropes stretched across his body, holding him steady and ensuring he could not struggle. The pain was finally back in full force by that point. His torso felt like it was on fire, with around his ribs feeling especially sharp and intense. His ankle also felt like it had taken heavy damage; there was a pulsing spike of pain that made certain to complain about his previous attempts to run on it. He winced but bit back any noise of pain.

He opened his eyes once more and denied them their desperate request to close again. It stung like salt to a wound and the pain was reluctant to leave. As a result, he had to squint at first.

Two men were present in the room, as he'd already guessed from the voices. The first looked to have albinism. His pale face and pure white hair seemed to be emphasised by the blackness in his clothes, but it was his pale blue eyes, with a reddish tinge that attracted the attention of one's gaze.

There was little more than that the captain could determine about the man, other than the assumption that he was called Zenith as he was ready to restrain him. He was standing on Nemo's right-hand side and had his hands out, ready to pin him down if he was to move too much.

The second man, Lupin, wore a white shirt, though he had rolled up his sleeves. He gave Nemo the impression of a man somewhat similar to Skinner: cunning as a fox and clever as a crow. He was around thirty, perhaps older, but showed little signs of ageing. His eyes were a striking deep brown and they seemed to burn with energy. He had a thick head of dark brown hair which looked lined with sweat. His arm was wrapped with a make-shift bandage to cover the wound on the top of his arm, the only wound Nemo had managed to give him.

Nemo was furious at himself. He shouldn't have been beaten so easily. He had been armed where Lupin was not. He should have dug deeper for more strength and kept going. He'd let his pain control him, but oh, there had been so much pain... Even as he lay there, he realised just how far he had pushed himself, how much his body complained and cried as it began to heal.

Nemo lifted his head to look at what was going on. He saw Lupin sitting in a chair on Nemo's left and cleaned a few of his cuts and scratches. He remained quiet, focusing on the task at hand. Nemo felt his largest wound had already been sewn back together but a firm hand pushed him down before he could determine anything else. He winced as a brief flash of pain scampered across his head and chest, leaving him feeling dizzy.
"Gently, Zenith," Lupin scolded.

Nemo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Only a weak moan he was surprised to hear come from himself. It awarded him nothing but more exhaustion and a horrid thirst.
Lupin's tone softened as his attention returned to Nemo. He spoke with good English in a bid to reassure him, "Lie still, mon ami. There are only a few pieces left to remove and then I can bind the worst of these wounds."

Curious of this stranger and left with no alternative, Nemo lay as still as he could, but he was still in pain and uncomfortable. His breathing was raspy and his throat was scratchy. He needed a drink, though his stubborn pride told Nemo not to ask for anything. It hurt to even breathe.

To distract himself, Nemo began to consider his surroundings. The smell of alcohol was coming from a bottle near a piece of bloodstained cloth. At least Lupin was trying to tend to his wounds. The ceiling and walls were made of dull grey metal. It was far less welcoming than the walls of the Nautilus. This place was made for nothing more than practicality, unlike his ship.

There was a quiet humming in the air. Nemo had heard this sound for most of his adult life; it was the sound of an engine. The familiarity should have served as a comfort but it instead unnerved him. He knew it was not the Nautilus and that turned what could have been a comforting noise into a horrible danger. Moriarty had attempted to recreate the Nautilus for his war... Was this for a similar cause?

He felt a swaying motion and could see the contents of the bottle swishing back and forth slightly. He guessed he was still on that boat that he had fallen unconscious on. Something the size of the Nautilus wouldn't make that much noticeable movement. It was still hard to tell how long he had been there.

Lupin was moving towards Nemo's side. Untrusting of the strange man, the captain caught a glimpse as he leaned closer; Lupin held in his hand an object that glinted in the light. A blade? Nemo breathed in sharply before he could stop himself. This caused a flare of pain in his side. Nemo hissed, trying to sit up to ease it but the ropes held him down. He guessed the cause of the pain was his broken rib, or perhaps more than one, and then there was the glass.

"Keep still. The pain will ease," Lupin said gently, putting a hand on Nemo's shoulder. If Nemo had the energy, he'd have scoffed at such an insincere reassurance. He could feel his anger rising. Even what little he observed about the two men caused Nemo's to feel hollow and irritated with uneasiness. He wanted nothing more than to strike the men with all his might. He longed to show them their decision to capture Captain Nemo was a foolhardy one, to lash out with his blade like he would against so many opponents in the past.

Yet that wish went unanswered. Escaping the ropes was impossible and there was no way to fight even without restraints; his injuries would defeat him before the first strike. Nemo did not care. Anger could be a much greater influence on him than logic. This was one of those times.

He wanted out.

Nemo tried to burst out the ropes, gritting his teeth as he tensed every muscle in his body. The pain only escalated in his side. It was a sharp stabbing sensation that managed to exceed the soreness in the rest of his battered body. But he didn't stop. He fought against the pain, the restraints, and everything that tried to stop him. He wanted to be free of such torment. If only he could get the appalling burning sensation of suffocation to subside.

The two men pinned Nemo down as he fought as best he could. Whether they feared escape or that he would do himself a further injury, he did not know.
"Let...me...go!" he shouted. Black spots flickered in Nemo's vision, warning him that he was on the verge of unconsciousness yet again.

He had a desperate gust of strength to help him fight during his moment of panic. Yet he lasted for less than half a minute. His temper began to burn out, even if he didn't want it to. He struggled for air. As Nemo felt his struggles lessening, he noticed that Lupin's grip was weakening.

"Steady, mon ami. I understand, but we're trying to help. You must calm yourself," Lupin reassured as the captain lost his momentum.

Panting and groaning, he felt his strength give out and he fell back against the table. His head was swimming and his body ached in response to his struggles. He took several gulps of air. The sharp pain continued to flare for a few more moments before easing off a small amount as he grew still. Lupin kept him in place for a few seconds after, as if to be certain that he had calmed.
"Are you finished with your tantrum?" Lupin asked. Nemo clenched his teeth and tried to snatch his arms free from the rope.

Lupin tried once again to bring his hand towards Nemo's side. Nemo saw the flash of metal again and was tempted to fight once more, but the pain encouraged him to stay still. Little could make him feel any worse but whether they were trying to save him or not, he did not know. He did not care and he did not trust them.

"There we are, doesn't that feel so much better? You may remember there are a few shards of glass in your arms and side. I need to remove them before they go septic. Try not to jolt again. It will be easier for both of us," Lupin said sympathetically. Nemo did not have the strength to fight again, but he still inhaled slightly as Lupin leaned in close.

Now calm, Nemo could see he held only tweezers. He wished he'd noticed before he'd caused himself so much pain. But this whole situation was nightmarish. He didn't understand why he was here. Lupin was as slow and steady as possible whilst pulling the fragments of glass out Nemo's skin with a delicate touch. The captain would have been more appreciative of the obvious care he was taking if it wasn't for the fact that the injuries came from him and his companions taking him in the first place.

"This piece of glass is far larger than I first anticipated. It will need stitches," Lupin muttered to himself as he worked.
Zenith said nothing in reply but nodded. Nemo watched and listened as best he could, fighting back a wince.
"I still do not understand why Fantômas had to inflict these injuries onto him in the first place. He knew the plan," Lupin scowled as he carefully wiped the wound clean with warm water.

"He probably could not control the Hyde," Zenith said in the other monster's defence. Nemo wasn't so convinced. He knew of Hyde's potion. Hyde was not a thoughtless monster, and neither would the other two have been. There was something about Fantômas, or rather his red counterpart, that Nemo did not like. It seemed colder, somewhat object-like in nature, more so than Edward Hyde. Nemo hoped the man behind the beast was somewhat better.

"Perhaps so," Lupin murmured, though unconvinced. "Keep him still. I expect this part will sting a little."

Nemo's body tensed up out of instinct. What did he have in mind?
"Cheer up, old boy. You make me feel guilty for helping you," Lupin remarked. "I'm going to have to cleanse the wounds. It should not take long, but it will not be pleasant. It would have been best if you could have remained asleep. You should try to rest. It will help."

Nemo said nothing. He turned his head away from his side with his eyes closed. He knew what Lupin meant. This was going to sting an awful lot, but it was necessary. There were numerous cuts and Nemo was no immortal, healing them away in an instant was not an option.

Exhaustion was starting to creep back upon him. He needed to rest and it would indeed be easier if he was not awake for the next part. Nemo was begging for the world of unconsciousness to take him back, to let him slip back under the waves for a little while. But whether it was his arrogance, fear or his luck that kept him from sleeping, Nemo did not know. He was cold, tired and in pain. He internally pleaded for sleep, but it seemed that it would not greet him yet.

With a sigh, Lupin took a fresh piece of cloth and poured alcohol onto it. Lupin dabbed the cloth onto the larger wounds. Nemo gritted his teeth in an attempt not to cry out, but the stinging on top of the rest of the pain was too much to bear in complete silence. He uttered a hiss as he bit his lip, weakly pulling at his bonds.

Nemo prepared to throw himself forwards despite a lack of energy. He could no more stop himself from reacting than he could stop a fish from swimming. This time Zenith was ready and kept him in place. Even though Lupin was being as quick as possible, Nemo could not help but snarl in intolerable pain.

The instant he finished with the deeper and longer cuts, Lupin took the cloth away. Nemo relaxed and heaved out a sigh of relief. The worst of it was over, but it still seared with pain. He winced, forcing back a whimper.

"You are doing well, Captain. I am almost finished. Don't look so worried, there are only a few grazes left," Lupin praised with a soft smile. Nemo did not reply, nor did he have any intention of doing so, but it was out of exhaustion more than anything. He would have had plenty to say if he had the strength but he was weary beyond what he could imagine.

"Can I trust you to stay still whilst I sew these wounds?" Lupin asked Nemo. "I'm hardly a doctor and your struggling won't make this any easier for me to mend."
Nemo nodded grimly. He was not sure if he would be able to stay still, but he would try.
"Good. Zenith, can you please find me some bandages?" he continued.
"Of course," he said, getting up and leaving the room.

Nemo knew it would take some time to recover and regain his strength enough to even consider escaping. Slightly more concerning, he felt like there was a fever hovering above him. Within a few hours, Nemo predicted that he would be claimed by sickness and sleep for several days, if not longer. He wished that he was under the care of Jekyll instead of such a strangely considerate kidnapper. The doctor's knowledge and skills would be needed when the fever struck. He hoped Lupin's abilities would be up to the task.

Lupin took a curved needle and thread and dipped it in the alcohol.
"Where am I and for how long was I unconscious?" Nemo croaked.
"We're in the English Channel, that's all I can tell you. You've been asleep for about an hour."

Nemo managed a scowl. "Who are you?"
Lupin chuckled and said, "You don't remember me? By Jove, I'm surprised, although I suppose it was a long time ago. We had quite a chase together. I am Arsène Lupin: Gentleman Thief. I have no doubt in proposing myself to you as the greatest thief in the world."

Nemo thought for a while. "Arsène Lupin? If my mind does not cheat me, you stole one of my paintings that I had purchased in France." His voice remained bitter.
Nemo was able to recall that encounter, but that had been a long time ago. He could not deny that Lupin was a somewhat likeable character during the hunt. Lupin had stolen a picture he'd bought for the Nautilus just before Nemo disappeared for the majority of his life.

Lupin had mocked him and aggravated him a great deal throughout the hunt. Still, even with such a serious crime, Lupin's playful, yet respectful, manner took some of the sting out of the theft. He was not like the others Nemo had dealt with before, violent and bitter. No, he was different somehow. He acted like he wanted Nemo to win his possession back, treating the crime as some sort of great game. Even now, Lupin treated him with consideration and calmness, but he was still a thief. In all honesty, he had forgotten the young man. But he was furious to find him involved with this. He had no choice but to direct his frustration to clenched fists.

Lupin smiled at the memory and began to sew. The conversation served as a welcome distraction for Nemo at the very least.

"I was only a boy at the time. It was one of Raphael's paintings, yes? The Madonna of the Meadow? It is a beautiful painting. You were very close to catching me several times when you searched for your painting. But I was always one step ahead."
Nemo stopped to catch his breath. "I also assume you are the reason why there are currently no paintings left hanging on the walls of my library?" Nemo sent him a cold stare, one Lupin seemed to expect. The thief gave a mischievous smile, like that of a schoolboy.

"Of course. You've a refined taste in music and arts. I must admit, your gallery is-"
"Was," Nemo corrected coldly.
Lupin smirked at the remark and continued "was astonishing. You couldn't expect me to just leave it alone, did you?"
Nemo wondered if he could find a window of opportunity for answers, a hint to get him closer to freedom. "How did you do it? How did you manage to find me, to take me?"

"I cannot tell you such secrets, mon ami. Surely you know that but anything can be done with the correct planning and preparation. Take overcoming your League for example. As for the painting, well, that was even simpler."
"If you have harmed any inhabitant on that ship-" Nemo began in warning.

Lupin dismissed the danger Nemo posed. "Hush, there's no need for threats. I don't kill and orders were given to reinforce that. I dare say you've had it worst."

Nemo raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Was Lupin testing him, challenging him, trying to gather his bearings and understand him? Nemo wasn't going to let him know how far he could push. Whether he knew him or not, he was the enemy, and he was dangerous. If the chance came, he had to get away. The best way to provide that chance for himself was to lure them into a false sense of security. He forced himself to calm, to stay civil.

He said "I've little choice but to believe you... But why did you return that painting before I left all those years ago?"

"I could have made you buy back your painting or sold it on. But other... business, I suppose you may say, stopped me. I couldn't store the painting safely, nor did I have the contacts that I have now. I'd won the game but could not gain my reward. I decided to return it, as a way to say bon voyage I suppose. Yet as I said, I was young. I'm not quite as charitable these days. Stealing from you could be considered practice."

Nemo replied with a small nod. He found himself unable to muster the strength to speak. He felt nauseated; fever was taking a firm hold. Lupin, noticing what was happening, put the back of his hand onto Nemo's forehead. Considering how cool the other man's hand felt, Nemo knew he must have been burning up. He looked away.

Lupin sighed and shook his head. Then, he reached behind him and took a glass of water from the small table. "You should drink whilst you are awake. I have a feeling this fever will be a fierce one."
Nemo hesitated. It would be foolish to ignore all the possible risks that presented themselves. But he was thirsty…

"Trust me. I have not wasted my time tending to your wounds just to poison you if that's what you think. If you want me to test it, I shall."
"No," he managed, his small amount of remaining energy fading fast. A smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. He tentatively held Nemo's head whilst he drank. Nemo did not object. He hadn't the strength to do so. Instead, he allowed the water to slip down his throat. It was lukewarm, making it easier to drink; it quenched his thirst faster than cold water would and was gentler on his stomach.

Once Nemo had drunk his fill, Lupin helped him to lie down. He paused as the captain shivered. "Get some rest, Captain."

As tempting as it sounded, Nemo did not want to rest. He wanted answers. So even with most of his energy spent, he summoned up what strength he could to speak. "Why am I here?"
"I cannot answer that."
Nemo tensed his jaw, his temper warming. "You ransacked my home and threatened my crew, going as far as injuring them. I'm currently tied to a table on a hostile ship whilst you pull glass out of my body. I want an explanation for this barbarity!" Shouting hurt his ribs, making him wince and take a few steadying breaths.
Lupin shrugged. "Of course you do, but it is not I who will give it to you. You will have to rest. When you are strong enough, you will get every answer you need."

Nemo grumbled in annoyance but settled himself. Staying calm and passive was essential in aiding any escape plan he could conjure in the future. He felt more comfortable in this new situation at least. Deciding that, for the time being, he was safe, he closed his eyes hoping sleep would finally take him back. This time it welcomed him.