The Crucible of Fear part 3

[sawyerfan]

This is part three of my story for the fic challenge. The same stuff applies: Don't own the LXG characters, only having some creative fun...thank you oh great and wise people who thought up this idea.

PG rating

For Mayhemme....I hope you like

PART 3

“I don’t want to be here,” Dorian grumbled under his breath, giving Quatermain a deadly glare.

“I didn’t mean to upset Tom any,” Jekyll offered, not liking the feral look in the explorer’s eyes, “but I was so shocked to see him standing there...after I was so sure he had died.”

“It was like I couldn’t help myself!” Mina threw in, her features still visibly upset.

“I was overcome by a bitterness and hatred that was even greater than what I had felt before,” Nemo admitted with shame. “Enough to make me turn against my friends.”

“Why didn’t me and Quatermain have dreams about trying to kill Sawyer?” Skinner asked in bewilderment.

“Maybe because we had risked our lives to save him back in M’s castle,” Quatemain answered, thankful at least one other member had not succumbed to the murderous actions in their sleep. He had to literally drag the others to this meeting, but it was necessary. They were in England, and Twazul had started the first round, assaulting them on the Nautilus where they thought they were the safest. It was the only explanation.

The hunter now understood Majeel’s reasoning for placing Tom under more protection on the trip to London. They would be vulnerable in their security, and it would be the perfect chance to use his ‘friends’ to kill his surrogate son, dealing him a double blow.

“We better get going,” Sawyer said to Allan, walking into the strategy room. The others, except for Skinner, hung their heads, not able to look the spy in the face. Tom’s feelings of hurt and insecurity diminished after Quatermain had explained what had happened with Majeel and King Umbopa. Everything now made sense.

“I can never offer enough words or actions to excuse...,” Nemo began to say, but Sawyer shook his head.

“That wasn’t me you were killing,” Tom said in understanding. “Twazul took your inner fear and used me in your minds to act it out.” The young man met everyone’s shocked glance. “Don’t you all see? He wants to break us apart. The bastard knows that together we can defeat him.”

“I can’t take the chance of Hyde being unleashed,” Henry spoke up, his vocal chords raw from screaming at Edward during his horrible ordeal. “If he could affect me so strongly in my dreams, what’s to stop him from convincing me to use the elixir?”

“He’s right,” Mina agreed. “If we were unleashed on London, it could be a bloodbath of horrible proportions.”

“But you beat him!” Tom insisted.

“Did we?” Nemo disagreed. “I had killed you in my dream.”

“That wasn’t me, that was your fear!” Curling his fist in frustration, Sawyer turned to Quatermain, hoping for some assistance. They were refusing to see the truth!

“I think they have a point, lad,” Allan replied, not looking at his protege. “Maybe it would be wiser to have them stay onboard till we fully investigate this Twazul...to know what we’re up against.”

“We already know!”

“Thomas,” Allan said in a tone of finality.

Scowling up at his father figure, Sawyer fell silent. None of them could see what he could.... A shiver went down the agent’s spine. How powerful was this Twazul to make even the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen afraid?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Skinner! Put that damn thing down!” Allan growled in the invisible rogue’s direction, seeing the speaking device Nemo had given Sawyer floating in the air. It was some sort of talking machine, much like a telephone, but this was handheld, and you could walk around freely with it. Joking to ease the heavy mood, Rodney dubbed it a walking talker.

“And where exactly should I put it?” Rodney teased. Seeing the venomous glare the adventurer gave him, the former thief cleared his throat. “I know where you’d like to place it, mate, but I don’t think either one of us wants to be the one to retrieve it.”

Sawyer broke out into a hearty laugh, taking the contraption from Skinner. He felt relieved to at least have some way to contact the others if the situation became dire. Deep down he knew they wouldn’t fail if push came to shove, no matter what this Twazul threw at them....they just had to realize that.

Hailing a horse drawn cab, the three men traveled down the rain soaked streets of London, each steeling themselves for whatever lie ahead. Despite his jesting, Skinner never told the others of the dream he had experienced. He may not have killed Tom like the others had, but it was disturbing none the less. Was he kidding himself by going along with Quatermain and Sawyer?

“We’re here,” Quatermain announced when the cab began to slow.
The American spy whistled in admiration at the lavish estate with it’s picture perfect scenery. He had mostly hung around the city when he was searching for information on the Fantom. It truly was beautiful out in the countryside. Casting a sideways glance at Allan, Sawyer could read the faraway look in the older man’s eyes.

“Some fond memories?” he asked quietly.

Smiling down sadly at the spy, Quatermain nodded, his eyes misting. “Harry loved coming here,” he spoke in a warm tone. “He would stay here once in a while when I was leading expeditions in Africa.”

“I could see why he liked it,” Sawyer agreed.

Skinner was scratching at his bald head underneath his black hat. “Hope I didn’t pinch anything at this place before....”

“It’s the ‘present’ I’m worried about,” Quatermain muttered, pulling on a bell rope to alert the occupants of their presence.

A young woman in her early thirties glanced warily through the iron rails of the massive gates, her face lighting up when she recognized an old family friend. “Mr. Quatermain!” the former, Imaline Good cried, hurriedly unlocking the gate. “You couldn’t have come at a better time!”

“What’s wrong, Ima?” Quatermain asked, forgetting the pleasantries as he pushed himself through. “Where are the servants? Sir Henry?”

“Please, come inside,” Imaline pleaded, grasping the hunter’s calloused hand. “Something terrible has happened to my father and Sir Henry.” Skinner and Sawyer hurried after their leader, each exchanging a glance of dread. Twazul must’ve struck!

“My father was called to a meeting here,” Imaline explained as they hurried through the main hall. “Sir Henry asked for me and my husband to come as well. They both went into the study with some man, and hours later they both came out, immediately collapsing to the floor!”

“What?” Quatermain said in alarm. “Are they all right, Ima?”

Tears welled up in the sea-green eyes. “They’re alive, but it’s like they’re in a trance...we can’t get them to wake up or respond to anything! The doctors are at a loss.”

“Do you what the meetin’ is about, Ma’am?” Tom inserted.

“I don’t know, but it was about some business dealings. I know my husband knows more than he’s telling me. Even Sir Henry’s two sons aren’t discussing it with their wives. All the servants mysteriously left as well. I don’t understand what’s going on!”

“Is that other man still here?” Allan asked, patting Ima’s hand in sympathy.

“Yes, he’s still in the study.”

“You go see to your father, I’ll see what I can do.”

Ima swung her arms around the seasoned adventurer. “Thank you,” she whispered before going upstairs.

His eyes turning hard, Quatermain glared in the direction of the study. “You two stay here...”

“No.” Sawyer challenged. “I’m not lettin’ you out of my sight.”

“I have no time for this, boy,” Allan threatened.

“Then let’s meet this Twazul,” the spy said, pushing himself past his mentor. He stopped dead in his tracks when he glanced behind, noting the blank looks that had overtaken Quatermain and Skinner’s features. Turning around, Tom found himself face to face with a tall, elegantly dressed man of African descent. The man appeared to be in his early forties, and he gave the younger man a confident, toothy smile.

“You have met him,” the man said in a deep, almost hypnotic voice. Cupping Sawyer’s chin with his oversized hand, he laughed when the agent angrily pushed it away. “You have Majeel’s stench all over you, little one,” he mocked, eyeing his only adversary.

Whipping out one of his colt.45 pistols from under his black ,duster coat, Sawyer aimed it at the bigger man, his hazel eyes narrowing as he cocked his gun back. Suddenly, three men came bursting out of the study, and jumped in front of Twazul, blocking Sawyer’s aim with their bodies.

“You mustn’t shoot our master,” one of the men pleaded. “We will willingly sacrifice ourselves for him!”

“You dirty bastard...,” Sawyer muttered towards the African between clenched teeth. Lowering his pistol, he knew had been bested...for now. He wouldn’t shoot innocent pawns in the witch doctor’s twisted mind game.

Twazul laughed. “You still hold out hope for defeating me?” he taunted, seeing the fire in the blonde agent’s eyes. Though he could not control or read the youth’s mind, his face was easy enough to decipher. “You cannot stop me, even though Majeel’s spell may protect you for the moment. I will grow in power, and soon I will overcome anyone who tries to stand in my way.”

“You’re not invulnerable,” the young spy disputed.

“No, but I will be,” Twazul boasted. “Even your unique friends are too afraid to fight me...something you should take a lesson from.” The man winked arrogantly, placing his hands on two of his protectors. “Gentlemen, remember to set our agreement into motion Monday morning. I have other things to tend to.”

“Yes, Master Twazul,” the three men said in unison, still using their bodies as shields as they began to walk him to the door.

Pausing in front of Sawyer, Twazul motioned for the nearest slave to disarm the agent. “Let Captain Good’s son-in-law have your weapons.” When Tom refused, the African sighed and turned his eyes towards Skinner. The rogue screamed in agony while he clutched at his head.

“Stop it!” Sawyer yelled, rushing over to his friend.

“Hand over your weapons,” Twazul repeated.

Cursing under his breath, Sawyer relinquished his revolvers, vowing to somehow find a way to stop this evil man. As soon as Tom obeyed, Skinner was released from the mental torment, his knees giving way from under him. Grabbing hold of his teammate as best he could, the spy struggled to lower Rodney to the hardwood floor.

“You okay, Skinner?”

“What just happened?” The invisible thief asked groggily. Why was he lying on the floor?

“Twazul happened,” Sawyer replied bitterly, glaring up at the African’s smiling face.

“That’s him?” Rodney whispered, taking in the tall man’s form. “He’s a big one.”

“Got an even bigger ego,” Tom whispered back.

“I’ll leave you to tend to your ‘father’,” Twazul said in parting, enjoying the frustration on the young man’s countenance. “Good day to you.”

The door closing signaled the departure of the African witch doctor, and all he had held in his power began to return to their normals shelves, all except Quatermain. The hunter swayed slightly before crumbling, but Sawyer and Skinner managed to catch their friend before he fell completely, carrying him to a nearby settee.

“Allan? Let me know you’re okay!” Sawyer implored, tapping the sides of the bearded face for any kind of acknowledgment as Quatermain lay insensible.

“I’m calling in the others,” Skinner announced sadly, pulling the walking talker from Sawyer’s coat pocket. The American agent nodded mutely, his thoughts only on his father figure.

He couldn’t lose him again....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry sighed heavily as he placed the stethoscope on the night stand beside him. “His blood pressure is high, his heart is racing....”

“Those are bad things?” Rodney asked, viewing the still figure of Quatermain. Despite the objections of Sir Henry’s sons and Ima’s husband, the fiery daughter finally convinced the three men to help lift the adventurer to a guest bedroom. “It can’t kill him...right?”

“If it keeps up, yes,” the handsome doctor replied slowly. “He’s obviously experiencing something inside, but he isn’t responding to outside contact.”

“He’s exactly like my father and Sir Henry,” Ima offered, giving Tom a mirroring look of sympathy. The green eyes began to blur with fresh tears. “The doctors can’t even get them to swallow liquid to keep from dehydrating.”

“So, we’re watchin’ ‘em die before us,” Sawyer responded gravely. Feeling a light squeeze on his left shoulder, the American spy glanced up into Nemo’s compassionate eyes.

“Destroying the children through them,” Nemo quoted Majeel from the day before. “He’s inflicting suffering by slowly killing the parents, and the offspring are helpless to stop it.”

Squirming uncomfortably, Gray searched the other League members faces. “Well? Are we just going to sit here and wallow in this misery? We know damn well who’s behind all this.”

Mina’s brows arched up in surprise. “Dorian? Are you actually suggesting doing something to help?”

“I was giving it some thought,” Dorian answered defensively. “If we transferred our fear into the form of Sawyer, why can’t we transform it into Twazul instead?”

“That’s if our fear doesn’t overcome us first,” Jekyll said, referring to the danger of Hyde taking permanent possession over him.

Ima watched the exchange between the odd looking group with bewilderment. “Who is this Twazul?”

“He’s a powerful witch doctor, Miss Ima,” Tom explained. “He can attack you through your mind, usin’ your fears against you, or to control you.”

“Is...is my husband...?”

“Afraid so, Miss,” Skinner replied. “I snuck into the library and opened the safe....”

“How did you know the combination?” Ima gasped in disbelief.

The former thief grinned under his white face paint and shrugged. “A little talent I have. Anyway, there’s paperwork inside, transferring both Captain Good and Sir Henry’s estates to some guy named Turner, which I’m guessing is probably an alias for Twazul. Your husband and Sir Henry’s sons are most likely being used to get them notarized Monday, to make it look more legit.”

Placing a trembling hand on her cheek, Ima began to understand. “He got my father to sign over everything, but he needed my husband to finish the transaction...? But why? There is men with more than my father, or even Sir Henry.”

“Revenge,” Nemo answered. “It stems back from when they found King Solomon’s mines. The evil priestess who tried to kill them was a relative of Twazul’s. He blames them for her death.”

“There’s also another document in there,” the invisible man added. “Seems ol’ Allan made Sawyer his next of kin recently.”

“Me?” Tom shook himself from his grief, staring at the rogue with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Ima confirmed. “Allan had asked my father to help in the arrangements. Though my father hasn’t seen him years, Allan kept us informed by frequent correspondence. I have been told by my father many times that he was so grateful you came into Allan’s life, Mr. Sawyer.” The attractive brunette managed a small smile. “He said you were bringing the old Quatermain back to life again, giving him a reason to face another day.”

Blushing, Tom squeezed the adventurer’s limp hand. Quatermain had enriched his life as well, and the hunter’s fatherly attention and wisdom was worth more than all the wealth of King Solomon’s mines.

“Twazul hasn’t had Allan transfer his estate over to him yet,” Henry surmised, “so he’ll need to tie up that loose end.”

“He may force Mr. Q to sign,” Mina pointed out, “but who is he going to get to finalize it? He needs the heir, and he can’t control Tom. ”

“Seems ol’ Twazie has hit a bit of a snag in his plans,” Skinner chuckled quietly. “Probably wasn’t counting on Majeel putting the protection spell on Tom.”

“That may very well be,” Dorian huffed, “but we can’t sit around and wait. Today is Saturday, so we have some time before Monday to finish him off before he starts the next phase of his plan.”

“But how?” Jekyll insisted. “Remember how Majeel rendered us immobile back on the Nautilus? Who’s to say this Twazul isn’t capable of it too!”

“He is,” Sawyer muttered, recalling how Skinner and Allan were held frozen earlier. “I’m the only one he can’t touch.” Giving Quatermain’s unresponsive hand another squeeze, he gave his fellow League members a determined look. “I don’t know how yet, but I have to beat Twazul before Allan and the others die.”

“When you do figure it out, keep it to yourself,” Rodney said in a serious tone. “Twazie may be able to read minds as well.”

“Excellent reasoning, Mr. Skinner,” Nemo complimented with a nod of his turbaned head.

“I’m not on this team for only my good looks,” the rogue teased with more humor than he felt inside.

The American spy turned his attention back to the man lying motionless in the elaborate bed, making a silent promise not to give up, no matter how hopeless it seemed. The others were part of the solution of defeating Twazul as well...Tom was certain of it, but how could he convince them while the African witch doctor still toyed with their inner fear?

What was the key to unlock the chains that held the remainder of the League trapped in their turmoil? If he did discover the secret, he would have to keep it inside till the last possible moment. This was a house full of subjects Twazul could use for his dark purposes, and despite the presence of his League ‘family’, the young spy felt totally alone.

Picking up on the melancholy Sawyer was showing, Henry caught the attention of the others in the room. “I think we should be going. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

“Yes,” Ima agreed sadly. “I would like to see my father before I turn in.”

“You coming, Tom?” Mina asked gently, placing a hand on the spy’s check.

Tom shook his head. “I ain’t leavin’ his side.”

“Make sure you get yourself some sleep,” she said in parting. “Somehow we’ll find a way to win.”

“I like that ‘we’ part,” Sawyer responded, sharing a brief smile with the beautiful vampire.

When the room finally cleared, Tom let out a shuddering breath, allowing his grief to surface. What hell was his mentor suffering through in his dreams? He also felt the added weight of Ima’s heartache as well, knowing exactly what she felt inside. Allan was not his natural father, but their bond was just as strong as any blood one.

The roller coaster of emotions began to hit the young spy hard, his eyelids drooping from the stress and the infinite possibilities of Twazul’s treachery. Still gripping Quatermain’s hand, Sawyer put his other arm on the mattress, laying his head down upon it with the intention of just resting his eyes.

“I just got you back,” he whispered, slowly closing his eyes, “don’t leave me again.”

Minutes later the exhausted American fell into a troubled sleep, not feeling the adventurer’s hand slip out from under his. A calm look came upon Sawyer’s winsome features as a familiar touch laid itself on top of his blonde head.

Deep in slumber, he somehow knew it was going to be okay.