Title: An Immortal's Blood 1/1, Sequel to An Immortal's Kiss by P'al Kwai

Ratings: NC-17 graphic violence, description of torture, and semi nonconsensual m/m slash. If any of this offends you, please do not read.
Author's Notes: I tried to be as factual as possible in this fic, so Jack the Ripper's dialogue and letter was copied after the actual Jack the Ripper letters. Using the Academic Info on Victorian England, and the Casebook Files From Jack the Ripper sites, I tried to use factual names, places, and terminology. The Rodney Skinner appearing as the Holy Spirit to Miss Rosa Coote's Correctional Academy for Wayward Gentlewomen came from the K.J. Anderson's novalization of LXG.

London, England, July 9, 1900

Former United States Secret Service Agent, Tom Sawyer strolled through the elegant mansion, which had been his home, his salvation, and his prison for the past nine months. "So why don't I just leave?" It was a question that he had been asking himself for some time.

"I'll just pack my clothes and walk out. . . ." He stepped down into the foyer. "That door." Cocking his head, he stared at the massive, wooden door that was the mansion's main entrance.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth, when that old, familiar throbbing began in his head, compliments of a bullet in his brain. Almost a year ago, he had been shot twice in the head during a mission with the League. One bullet, the doctors eventually removed; the other lodged deep in his skull was impossible for them to get at.

"Headache?" Dorian Gray, his lover, savior, and keeper strolled languidly down the staircase.

Rubbing his temple, Tom shrugged without answering. He saw that Dorian was dressed to leave, something, which was everyday occurrence now. After his lover would leave, he would rattle about the mansion feeling lonely and hollow.

"Will you be in need of your medicine?" Dorian asked, pulling on expensively stylish gloves. When Tom did not answer immediately, he raised an eyebrow impatiently. "I'm on my way out and in a hurry. Can you at least try to answer with a simple yes or no?"

Swallowing down an emotion he didn't want to name, Tom managed a strangled no, as he turned and went up the stairs, using all his will power to not look back.

**

"Mr. Sawyer!" Mina Harker stood up, as her butler announced the young man's arrival. "What an unexpected surprise." She examined him thoroughly for a moment. "You're looking. . .better."

"Better, but not great?" Tom threw himself in the nearest chair with a self-deprecating grin. "I ran into Skinner at the. . . ." He paused, clearing his throat."British Museum, and he told me that you all were back in London."

Wincing a bit at the American English, Mina nodded. "You're looking so much better. That physician, whom Dorian found for you must really be a miracle worker."

"Physician?" Tom was confused. "You mean one of the doctors at Westminster Hospital? I haven't seen any of them since the surgery."

"Strange," Mina said, her expression impassive. "Dorian told me that he had secured a personal physician for you, and that said physician was the one responsible for your miraculous recovery last year."

Tom could only shrug his shoulders. "Dorian says lots of things; truths, half-truths, lies."

"Well, if that was a lie." Mina sat down across from Tom. "How exactly did Dorian bring you out of your coma?"

Tom shrugged again. "I don't know. The only thing I know is that he gives me medicine, when I'm in pain and it does wonders for my headaches. But it's probably just a shot of scotch or whiskey mixed with laudanum and sugar."

"Laudanum?" Mina took a closer look at Tom's complexion and eyes. She was familiar with the drug, and the power it could yield over people. "What makes you think Dorian is giving you laudanum?"

"Mina." Tom gave her a look of disbelief mixed with cynicism. "After all that time I spent in your hospitals, you think I don't know laudanum by now?"

"Are you addicted?" Mina asked quietly, her expressive eyes never leaving Tom's face.

"Maybe." Tom was finding the view of the ceiling very interesting. "A little, but I've gotten to a point where I only take it when I'm really in pain. I do crave it though," he added softly.

"It's Dorian," Mina stated firmly. "He doesn't help the situation. He likes to contribute to people's weaknesses. Leave him," she ordered. "If you need a place to stay for a bit, you can stay here with me, or if that makes you uncomfortable, I can arrange for you to stay with Henry."

"Mina, I. . . ." Tom broke off. It was the perfect solution, the smart solution, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. Not yet. Because he was not only addicted to laudanum, he also was addicted to Dorian Gray. "I. . . ." He struggled for an explanation he could give to Mrs. Harker, but she was a woman, and how could he possibly explain his relationship with Gray to a woman?

But Mina needed no explanation. "You have more than just one addiction, don't you?" She understood because she had been both Dracula's and Dorian's lover. Both men had left her with cravings that still haunted her at times. "You need to separate yourself from him."

Shifting uneasily in his chair, Tom looked around the room, avoiding Mina's eyes. He already knew that.

"Perhaps Skinner already told you, but the League is between missions now." Tom stiffened ever so slightly at the abrupt change of subject. "And we decided we wanted to take a short trip to Africa. It's been a year now." Mina gave Tom a kindly look. "And you were closer to him than any of us in the short amount of time we knew him. So I'm thinking you would like to join us in a memorial service for the deceased, but never forgotten Alan Quartermain."

Tom could only smile at Mina. Leave it to her to come up with just what he needed. A chance to get away Dorian, and see if distance could break the Immortal's hold on him.

**

July 11, 1900

Grabbing things haphazardly and throwing them in a bag, Tom was packing for Africa. He didn't need much, as they were only going to be gone for a few days.

"Going somewhere?"

The question caught Tom by surprise as he straightened up but did not turn around. He didn't have to; he knew who it was.

"Mina invited me to go with them to Africa. We plan to hold a memorial service for Quartermain." He didn't look at Dorian just continued to pack.

"How commendable you all are," Dorian mocked. "Nauseatingly commendable."

"Must you always be such a bastard about everything?" Tom whirled around angrily. "Quartermain was a good man, and come to think of it, might still be alive today, if there hadn't been a traitor. . . ." He broke off, unable to accuse Dorian to his face.

"If there hadn't been a traitor. . . ?" Eyebrow raised, Dorian prompted Tom to finish.

"Never mind," Tom muttered out, turning away. He was a callow, unsophisticated boy from St. Petersburg, Missouri. He'd never be Dorian's Gray's equal.

"Send Mina your regrets," Dorian said, as he turned to take his leave.

"What?" Tom spun around again. "Send Mina my regrets?"

"Yes," Dorian said over his shoulder, as he had begun to walk away. "Because I forbid you to go."

**

"Can you believe that he actually told me I couldn't go?" Sitting in the conference room of the Nautilus, Tom rubbed his forehead. Anger at Dorian had given him a headache.

Prompted by his dark half, Henry Jekyll couldn't help but ask. "Did he use physical force, or try to lock you in?" Hiding his trembling hands behind his back, he saw Sawyer shake his head in the negative, while Mr. Hyde screamed inside his head.

'You tiny, pathetic man. Gray scares you, doesn't he? He's everything you wish you could be, but can't,' Jekyll's demon taunted him. "Let me out, and I will show you how to crush Dorian Gray.'

"Are you feeling all right?" Jekyll quickly asked Sawyer, while trying to squash down his dark desires.

"What?" Eyes closed, Tom was finding the lighting in the Nautilus to be bothersome. "Oh, it's just a headache. They come and go."

"Perhaps a short nap before dinner," Mina suggested, as she stood up. "Which cabin did you assign Mr. Sawyer?" She turned to Captain Nemo.

"I put him in the one next to Henry's," Nemo said in his usual stoic manner.

"Come, Tom." Mina took a hold of the young man's arm. "I'll show you to your cabin."

"He worries me," Nemo said, as he, Jekyll, and Rodney Skinner watched Mina lead Tom out of the conference room.

"Sawyer?" Skinner had been unusually quiet throughout the entire conversation, being too busy enjoying Neno's hospitality."Enthusiastic chap but with good intentions," he said as he downed his drink. "I dinnah think you need to be bothered 'bout 'im."

"It's not Mr. Sawyer, who worries me," Nemo stated softly. "It's the man, who has claimed him that concerns me."

"Claimed?" Jekyll stared at Nemo in surprise. "That's a rather interesting word to use."

"Interesting, but appropriate," Nemo said, face inscrutable as always. "Dorian Gray considers Mr. Sawyer to be his property, and now that we've. . .shall I say abetted Tom in being disobedient, we should perhaps expect some trouble from Mr. Gray."

Jekyll and Skinner exchanged confused looks.

"Maybe it's the booze muddlin' me brain." Skinner held up his refilled glass. "But you, mate, ain't makin' any sense."

"Perhaps." Nemo started for the door. He needed to talk to his first mate. "But as long as Mr. Sawyer is here with us, I plan to keep my guard up."

**

Waking up a short time later, Tom's head throbbed in pain and nausea churned in his stomach. Knowing that this was not one of his usual headaches, he forced his eyes open, so he could try and get his bearing.

Feeling the queasiness start to flow up his throat, Tom rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a hard thud. Using his forearms he managed to crawl over to the chamber pot. Reaching it, his shaking hands encircled it, just as the contents of his stomach came up and out.

**

After a bit of unpacking and freshening up, Mina made her way to the Nautilus' dining room. Entering, she scanned the occupants and found one to be missing. "Tom isn't here yet?" she asked with surprise. Their last voyage, Sawyer had out eaten all of them.

"Probably still sleeping off his headache," Dr. Jekyll said. "Actually that boy is quite lucky. A bullet lodged in his brain, and the only effects he suffers are off and on headaches. I really must speak to his physician one of these days."

"He has no physician." Mina gracefully sat down in a chair across from Jekyll. "Dorian made him up."

"Mina, that's impossible," Henry protested with a short laugh, thinking perhaps that she was joking. "There is no way Tom could have recovered like he. . . ." He broke off as he saw her serious expression. "All right. Let's just forget about the medical impossibility of it all for a moment. Why would Gray lie about such a thing?"

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Mina spoke in her usual quiet manner. "But only God, or shall I say the devil know what they were."

"I know you're probably going to slap me face for askin'," Skinner said between slurps of soup. He hadn't bothered to wait for everyone else. All the alcohol in his system needed a little food to soak it up. "But wot did you ever spot in that man? I guess 'e's an attractive enough bloke, but besides bein' a liar and a traitor, 'e's also sort of. . . ." He broke off, groping for the right word to describe Gray.

"Immoral," Captain Nemo finished Skinner's thought.

"And we in this room haven't had a few of our own immoral moments?" Mina asked with a knowing smile. "Anyway, gentlemen, we've waited long enough for Mr. Sawyer. Henry." She stood up and looked across at Jekyll. "Would you accompany me to Tom's quarters and see what's keeping him?"

Nodding his head in assent, Jekyll immediately stood up. Since joining the League, he found himself doing whatever Mina asked of him. He rarely questioned her requests; he was her most loyal servant.

**

A part of him could hear their voices, although they sounded faint, like they were speaking from a great distance.

"He's having a fit!" Dr. Jekyll quickly rolled Tom over on his side, opening his mouth to make sure his tongue wasn't obstructing breathing. "Mina," he shouted out orders. "Go and get help, then go and fetch my medical bag from my cabin."

Climbing on top of Tom, Jekyll held him down using both legs and arms.

Returning with Jekyll's medical bag, Mina quickly set it down on the floor. "I sent for help." Grabbing Tom's legs, she held them down, so Jekyll was free to open his bag and look through it.

"What are you going to do for him?"

"I'm going to give him laudanum," Jekyll said matter-of-factly. He was a doctor of his time, and in his time laudanum was prescribed for just about every and any aliment.

"Henry, he's addicted to laudanum," Mina protested, just as Nemo and Skinner entered the room.

"Just what would you have me do?" Dr. Jekyll asked with a little impatience in his voice, unusual when he spoke to Mina. "Look at him." He motioned with one hand toward the convulsing Sawyer, as he pulled out a bottle of laudanum.

"My apologies Doctor." Mina immediately realized that she had been out of line. "I shouldn't have questioned your expertise."

"Hold his head." Jekyll instructed Skinner, who had bent down to give a hand, as he measured out a spoonful of laudanum and then carefully trickled it into Sawyer's mouth.

Moments passed and gradually Tom's shaking began to subside.

"I think the fit has passed." Jekyll lifted an eyelid, to check Sawyer's pupils. "Let's get him more comfortable," he said to both Skinner and Mina.

"I'll be turning the Nautilus back to England," Captain Nemo stated flatly, as he watched his associates lift the slender, young American up on the bed.

Mina's head snapped up at Nemo's words, her eyes quizzical.

"He needs to go back to Mr. Gray," he answered her unspoken question. "I believe you know that already."

Inclining her head ever so slightly, Mina sighed with resignation. "I do," she answered softly, as she looked down at Sawyer. It seemed that in order to save the boy, he would have to be returned to the very man she had hoped to rescue him from.

**

July 12, 1900

Night had fallen when the Nautilus arrived at the east docks of London where Dorian's mansion stood.

"This place is as charmin' as ever," Skinner observed as he walked down the gangplank, holding the front end of the stretcher where Sawyer lie. "Since we're spose to be 'aving a look for this new Jack the Ripper, maybe we should start our search 'round 'ere."

"We could ask Dorian," Mina said with a half smile. "Perhaps he's seen Jack strolling around the area."

"Knowin' Gray, he's probably 'ad tea with our Jack," Skinner mumbled softly, but not so soft that the others couldn't hear him.

This time Mina had no half-joking comeback, as Gray's mansion loomed in front of them. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to door and banged the knocker. Minutes passed as the four League members stood in the fog, the pleasant odor of fish and mud filling their nostrils.

"Perhaps Mr. Gray is out," Captain Nemo finally spoke. "We could wait in the Nautilus, until he returns."

"Dorian is here," Mina stated with certainty. "It's too early for him to be out; it's not the fashionable hour."

And to prove her words right, the peep window in the massive front door slid open. Dorian's dark eyes peered out at them, but he said nothing. The window slammed shut, and the door opened. "Good evening, gentlemen and lady." He gave Mina the once over. "Come bearing gifts for me?"

"He had a fit," Dr. Jekyll spoke up, inclining his head at the unconscious Sawyer, as he held the back end of the stretcher. "I dosed him with laudanum, and we returned to London as. . . ." He broke as Dorian stifled a yawn.

"I forbade him to go, and he disobeyed me." Dorian's crossed his arms over his chest, leaning up against the doorframe. "He's not my responsibility anymore."

"Don't talk nonsense, Dorian," Mina spoke calmly, even though her insides were twisting with emotion. "He came because of my invitation, and he truly had been close to Quartermain and wanted to pay his respects."

"I'll say it again," Dorian said, his face a combination of boredom and derision. "He left against my orders. I will not take him back, and if you," he addressed Mina," are so bloody worried about him, then you take responsibility for him. After all, I believe you were there with him when the bad man shot him in the head."

"Mina." Revulsion and jealousy of Gray were welling up in Henry Jekyll. "Let's leave. We can take Tom to Westminster Hosp. . . ."

"This is foolishness," Mina interrupted, as she pushed Dorian aside and swept into his front hall. "Henry, Rodney," she called back. "Bring him in."

"And if Gray just throws poor Tom on the streets?" Jekyll protested to Nemo and Skinner.

"Mina wouldn't leave him here, if she believed that," Nemo stated confidently. Turning, he started back to his Lady; he wasn't about to go into Dorian's home again. "I'll meet you back at the Nautilus."

Shuffling clumsily from having to carry a man on a stretcher, Skinner and Jekyll entered the mansion.

"Mina!" Jekyll started another protest, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Take him upstairs, gentlemen," she ordered, her eyes never leaving Dorian. "Mr. Gray will be right up to take charge of Tom."

"Going to make me?" Dorian leaned over to whisper in Mina's ear.

"Take good care of him, lover," Mina whispered back, as she watched Skinner and Jekyll struggled with the mansion's winding staircase. "Or you'll be feeling my wrath, and I know how you hate being bested by a woman."

**

July 13, 1900

Waking up in Dorian's bed, Tom wasn't surprised to find himself naked and smelling of soap. It was an unspoken rule, a bath before one was allowed in the fastidious Dorian Gray's bed. Sitting up gingerly, he felt his head. Not surprisingly, there was no pain. Gray seemed to have the magical cure for him.

"Headache gone?" Dorian asked, as he stepped out of the shadows to stand in the muted light coming through the window.

Shaking his head yes, Tom eyed Dorian warily. Shirt unbuttoned, the Immortal looked seductive, yet a hint of dangerous anger was evident in his dark eyes.

"You disobeyed me," Dorian spoke softly. "I don't like to be disobeyed, so I'm going to teach you a lesson, boy, so that it won't happen again."

Staring over at the door, Tom considered if he should jump up and make a run for it. A vision of him running around the mansion with Dorian chasing him almost brought a smile to his face. Almost, as he looked up at a very menacing Dorian.

"Teach me a lesson?" Tom said trying to inject a tone of defiance in his voice. "If you haven't noticed Gray, I'm. . . ."

"Silence!" One quick step and Dorian stood at the side of the bed, giving Tom a push, which knocked him down into the bed. "I wasn't going to take you back, but I would have had to go a few rounds with Mina, and I wasn't in the mood," he hissed this out angrily as he stripped off his clothes. "You defy me again, and I'll take on the lovely Mrs. Harker and believe me, the result will be both of your bodies dumped out in the street."

Dorian's rage stunned Tom. He had seen the Immortal annoyed, bored, insolent, but never in a frenzied temper.

"Spread your legs." The command was snapped out, taking Tom by surprise. Mind still muddled by the seizure and the laudanum, his reaction time was slow. Brain said sit up, but Dorian grabbed him before he could move. Fingers digging into flesh, his legs were pushed apart.

"Get off me!" Tom struggled to a sitting position while trying to throw Dorian off of him, but a knee pressed painfully down on his inner thigh halted any fight in him. "Goddamn!" he swore, falling back on a pillow.

But that pain was nothing compared to what he felt in the next instant. Using just spit, Dorian thrust himself into Tom, giving the young man no preparation or warning.

The suddenness and the cruelty of the attack took any fight Tom had in him. Chest heaving, he closed his eyes as tears of pain and humiliation welled up. "Fucking pervert," he managed to spit out.

"Language, boy!" Dorian retaliated by grinding his pubic bone into Tom's perineum and balls.

Curling hands into fists, Tom gritted his teeth, trying not to groan, as Dorian slammed into him again and again. He prayed that it would be over soon, but it wasn't. It seemed to be hours, as Dorian's cock brutalized him. His ass on fire, he squirmed uncomfortably, and then he heard a small moan from the man on top of him. A final, long thrust, and Tom finally felt some relief, as the pounding stopped and a warm wetness spread through him.

**

July 14, 1900

Alone in the mansion, Tom sat in the kitchen, waiting for his coffee to finish percolating. It was already evening, as he had slept the day away and had woken up to find he was alone. A blessing, he tried to tell himself.

"Because I would have shot the bastard if he had been home," Tom spoke out loud, and then after a moment of reflection said. "Which of course wouldn't have hurt him, only piss him off more."

"If you were trying to piss off Dorian, I'd be happy to help." A voice spoke behind him.

Startling, Tom spun around. "Mina, for Christ's sake!" He put a hand over his heart. "Scared the shit out of me."

"My apologies." Mina stepped into the room. "You were so involved in talking to yourself and. . . ." She looked over at the stove to see what he was cooking. "Brewing coffee, I didn't know how to get your attention."

"Dorian's not here." Tom reached into a cupboard for a couple of cups. "Want some?" He held up a cup.

"I know Dorian's not here. I've been across the street watching for him to leave." Mina looked around the kitchen. "I'm not partial to coffee. Do you have tea?"

"Uh, sure, I think, somewhere." Tom set down the cups and began to hunt through the cupboards. The kitchen was not familiar territory.

"Never mind the tea." Mina saw that having a cup of tea was probably more trouble than it was worth. "Sit down," she ordered as she sat herself down at the small kitchen table. "And have your coffee. I just want to talk with you for a few minutes."

Shrugging his shoulders, Tom knew he wasn't being a good host, but the events of the last few days had him hurting both physically and emotionally.

"How are you feeling?" Mina watched with interest as Tom filled his cup half full with coffee, and then proceeded to fill the rest of the cup with preserved milk. He wasn't finished though, as he then began dumping in teaspoons of sugar.

Mina couldn't help but wrinkle her nose with disgust. "You certainly drink your coffee in an interesting way."

"I like it sweet," Tom told her as he took a cautious sip.

"I believe you do." Mina shuddered inwardly. Preserved milk was made by evaporating the water and then adding sugar, so it was already sweet. Adding it to coffee along with more sugar and the result would be cloyingly sugary.

"So why were you waiting for Dorian to leave?" Tom asked, trying to inject in an indifferent tone in his voice.

"I have a couple of items I want to discuss with you, and I didn't care to have Dorian around."

"He must have some magical cure for me because my head. . . ." Tom put a hand up to his forehead. "Feels fine."

"No doubt he does." Mina sighed. Leave it to her former lover to be one step ahead of them. "If you're ever able to obtain a sample, even a small sample." She paused, as she looked hard at Tom."I could analysis it, and we could duplicate it. You could leave him then."

Tom shrugged, trying not to exam his emotions too thoroughly because despite Dorian's treatment of him, there was a part of him that really didn't want to leave. "I'll keep that in mind, but I suspect he hides it somewhere, and I already know that he has many secret places in this. . . ." He waved his hand around. "House."

"He may get careless one day. Keep your guard up and your wits about you," Mina advised. "Anyway, I spent yesterday and part of today trying to cut through the layers of bureaucracy of my government and yours. I believe that the team of Moriarty, Fu Manchu, and Spring-Heeled Jack would have been an easier battle."

Her comment brought a half smile to Tom's face. The first Mina had seen since she had arrived.

"Despite my threats, your government insists that it owes you nothing because you hadn't served the requisite number of years to qualify for a disability pension. Bloody Americans," Mina said sourly, then remembered whom she was with. "No offense."

"None taken," Tom responded another half grin on his face. Mina was succeeding in cheering him up a little. "At least they paid for my medical bills."

"How generous of them," Mina said with sarcasm. "Now my government, on the other hand, did recognize your services and has agreed to pay you a small, monthly stipend on the following condition, you agree to assist in certain cases."

"How can I agree to that?" Tom's expression turned grim again. "I can't stay away from Dor. . .here more than a few hours at best."

"Certain cases here in London," Mina qualified. "And in fact, there's a case now where you could be of assistance."

"Now?" Tom was taken by surprise. Considering for a few minutes, he drained the last of his coffee. "So what's the case?"

"Twelve years ago a number of women, Unfortunates, were murdered in the Whitechapel district."

"A number of unfortunate women were murdered," Tom repeated the information.

"Yes, I do believe they were unfortunate, but they were Unfortunates, our word for prostitutes. Their killer was never caught, and is still known today as Jack the Ripper."

"I heard of Jack the Ripper." Tom gave Mina a grateful look. He realized that she had engineered the whole, stipend for services. He was no experienced crime expert, nor did he possess any special skills. The League, Scotland Yard, nor the London police did not truly need him.

"Read about him in a couple of dime novels," he said jokingly, smiling slightly.

"Dime novels." Mina sniffed disapprovingly. "Well, I guess that's something. Anyway, there have been four grisly murders of. . .Unfortunates in the last month. All in the East End of London. People are terrified, saying that the Ripper has returned. Whether it is him again, or some copycat, we don't know. But we need to catch this man, before there's another death and before all of London is in a panic."

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" Tom asked, as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Study this case file." Mina set a bundled stack of papers in front of him." And come to the British Museum on Monday evening. Be prepared to do some walking. We plan to check over the crime scenes."

"I'm already here on the East End," Tom reminded Mina. "Do I really need to come to the British Museum? I could just meet you somewhere close by."

"How stupid of me." Mina stood up, readying herself to leave. "We'll pick you up on Monday. Around this same time?" She turned to leave. "After Dorian has left for the night."

**

July 16, 1900

After tromping around the districts of Whitechapel, Spitalfields, and Aldgate for a couple of hours, Tom was feeling guilty for ever feeling sorry for himself. The poor people of the East End of London had been given a miserable lot in life.

"Welcome to the city of London." Grinning over at Tom, Skinner could tell what he was thinking "Ever seen slums like this?"

Tom shook his head in the negative. "I'm just a small town boy."

"I think we've done enough for tonight," Mina announced to the group. "We'll meet tomorrow evening and discuss our next step."

"Another meetin'?" Skinner asked unhappily. " 'ow the bloody 'ell do you think we're ever gonna catch the Ripper, when all we do is talk?"

"Planning assures good results." Jekyll was quick to defend Mina.

"Uh huh." Skinner was not convinced. Looking over at Tom, he noticed the boy still half-repulsed, half-fascinated by his surroundings. "Want to join me for a pint or two?" He pointed to a pub across the street.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Mina immediately nixed the plan. "Tom, we'll take you back to Dor. . . ."

"You're not his bloody mum," Skinner interrupted. " 'e's a big boy, and can decide for 'imself if 'e wants a pint or not."

Already fed up with Gray's domineering ways, Tom was not going to take it from Mina too. "I think I'd like drink. Lead the way." He gave Mina a defiant glare as he turned to Skinner.

"Dinnah worry boss, ma'am." Skinner patted Mina on the shoulder. "I'll put 'im in a cab meself after we've 'ad a couple. He'll get 'ome safe."

**

Laughing stupidly, Tom and Rodney stumbled out of the pub a few hours later. Both men were feeling no pain.

"This way, mate." Rodney led Tom around a corner to an isolated, dark spot. "Stand 'ere." He positioned Tom in front of him, so he was hidden from view.

"Whatchay doing?" Tom watched in confusion, as Rodney began rubbing off his makeup.

"Gonna have me a bird tonight?" A white rimmed wink that Tom was able to see, before Rodney completed his makeup removal.

"So how exactly do you plan to. . .chat up a bird?" Two hours drinking with Skinner had Tom speaking the local dialect. "When you're invisible?"

"Bein' invisible is t' my advantage." Rodney removed his hat and coat and gave it to Tom. "Cos then I tell 'em I'm the Holy Spirit. Gits 'em ev'ry time."

"But that's, that's despicable." Tom was appalled.

"Dinnah wo'ry, I'll make it right with 'em." Rodney grabbed Tom by the arm. "Now, I just 'ave to put you safely in a cab."

"I can see myself to a cab, thank you." Pulling his arm away, Tom was so angry; he wanted nothing to do with his new friend.

"Dinnah git all pissy," Rodney appeased. "Most of the cows 'ere are Unfortunates. They'd give it up to any fairy for a couple of quid. Just 'avin' a wee fun, and like I said, I'll make it right with 'em. Just be glad I'm not doin' this at Miss Rosa Coote's Correctional Academy for Wayward Gentlewomen anymore."

"What? You were doing this same thing at a Correctional Academy?"

"Yeah, but a few people found out 'bout it; one of 'em was Mina," Rodney said with what sounded like regret in his voice. "Ooh." He noticed a young, rather pretty, although hardened woman walk past. "I think I spot the lady, 'oo is gonna share a bed with me tonight."

"Repulsive bastard," Tom muttered, as he started walking up the street toward the cab-stand.

" 'ang on, 'ang on." Skinner grabbed a hold of Tom again. "I'll escort you to your cab. I promised Mina I'd made sure you got 'ome safely. If sumthing were to happen, she'd slit me throat."

"And you'd deserve it." Tom continued walking. "Don't worry, Skinner." He turned, as he held his coat open, so the gentlemen thief could see the Smith and Wesson sidearm he had holstered on his hip. "I've already got my protection."

Knowing that Tom was angry with him and also not wanting to lose sight of the young woman, Skinner gave in. "Awright, mate. I'll spot you tomorrow, and if it's not too much trouble, can you brin' me coat and 'at with you."

"Yeah, yeah," Tom agreed, even though he wanted to throw said coat and hat in the gutter. As he made his way to the cab-stand, the vigilant former Secret Service Agent noticed a handsome, private coach parked up the street. It stood some distance away, as if it didn't want to get too close to the populace of the East End.

"What the hell would a private coach being doing here in this area of the city?" Tom asked himself, as he began to head in its direction. The ever-inquisitive Tom Sawyer had to go and find out.

**

July 17, 1900

Sitting across from Henry Jekyll, who was sharing a light breakfast with her, Mina carefully set down her teacup. "So, in your expert opinion, the knife wounds were similar in the four dead women to. . . ."

"Mina!" Jekyll interrupted abruptly. "Must we always be talking shop? I would really like to enjoy my breakfast without having to think about knife wounds and missing organs."

"My apologies, dear Henry." Mina tried to sound sincere, but it seemed the only interesting conversations she had with Jekyll were when they talked about business. "It's just that. . . ."

"Ma'am." The butler suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking quite put out. "There is a gentleman here to see you. I told him you weren't available and to call back later, but. . . ."

"Mina!" Giving the butler a rude push, Dorian stomped in the dining room. "Where is he?"

"Where is who, and a good morning to you, Dorian," Mina said with false sweetness.

"Sawyer!" Dorian's shouted. "I don't know what kind of bloody game you're playing, Mina, but I am not amused."

"Tom?" Mina exchanged a worried look with Jekyll. "Well, last evening we were. . .he was. . . ." For once the usually composed and verbal Mrs. Harker was at a loss for words.

"Spit it out, Mina," Dorian spoke harshly. "And make it fast."

"The five of us were checking out the districts of Whitechapel, Spitalfields, and Aldgate." Henry jumped in to help. "We're investigating the new Ripper murders."

"And what was Tom doing with you?" Dorian snapped out.

"Well, err, he. . . ." Jekyll wasn't sure how to answer that.

"I asked him to help." Mina had regained her composure and her voice.

"Without my permission?" Dorian frowned in anger. "You keep telling me the boy is my responsibility, but then you go and include him in some mad scheme of yours without telling me. Keeping him from me will only cause him to have a fit, like that last time."

"Skinner!" Jekyll said triumphantly. "He's probably with Skinner. Last night they decided to stop off at a pub after. . . ." He trailed off quietly, as Dorian's demeanor became even blacker. "Ward."

"Henry, send one servant to Skinner's residence, and then another to the pub they stopped at," Mina ordered. "Hopefully he can be found at one of the two places."

"Yes." Dorian sat down. "The two of you had better hope he's with Skinner somewhere safe. Because if he isn't. . . ." He glared menacingly at the two.

Exchanging another quick look with Mina, Jekyll hurried out of the room, contemplating whether he would have to dust off a bottle of serum. If Dorian Gray were out for blood, Mr. Hyde would perhaps have to come out of retirement.

**

Waking up to the sounds of terrified screams, Tom felt the familiar throbbing in his head and an unfamiliar throbbing in his right hand. Quickly assessing himself, the sight of a bloody stump of his index finger on his right hand made him gag. Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm himself, since having an attack would only make his situation worse.

He found himself on his stomach chained to the bottom of a leg of a worktable. Pulling uselessly on the chains, he swore weakly. From down on the floor, his vision was obscured, but even so the horrified shrieks, the smell of blood and death, and the air of terror permeated his very pores. He was in the hands of the Ripper.

The screaming seemed to go on forever, as Tom lay helpless, fighting the nausea that was bubbling in his stomach. Concentrating on keeping himself from throwing up gave him something to focus on, instead of the horror that surrounded him. The screaming turned to whimpering, and suddenly a pair of feet and legs appeared in his line of vision.

"I do so love my work." The faceless man said in a horse whisper, as he threw his latest victim in the corner across from Tom.

Seeing the tortured woman had Tom retching. He couldn't hold back anymore. The woman was a mess of blood, slashed clothing, and innards. Her eyes focused on Tom, as she managed a weak, 'help me', before her eyes began to glaze over. Her lifeblood slowly seeped out of her.

Tom could still see the legs on the other side of the table, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He was sure he was next to be carved up but the legs never approached him, as they turned and began walking away. Before passing out from fear, pain, and sickness, Tom heard one last whisper from Jack.

"The idiot police can't catch me, and neither will your friends, the glorified League. Ha!"

**

Standing before his accusers, Jekyll, Mina, and Gray, Skinner could feel the sweat trickle down his face, making rivets in his white makeup. "The last time I seen Tom were last night wen I put 'im in a cab."

"You put him in a cab?" Mina repeated. "You actually saw him get into a cab?"

"Yes, ma'am," Skinner said hastily. "I mean no, ma'am," he corrected himself, as he swore that he saw Mina's eyes flash red for a moment. "But he was walking his way to the cab-stand, and he had a pistol," he quickly added, as he looked over at Dorian and then was sorry he did.

The Immortal's dark eyes were flickering with rage, even though his stance was that of the usual, languid, cool Dorian Gray. "If something happened to him because of your negligence, I will gut you and feed your insides to the fish," Gray said calmly, like he was talking about the weather.

"Enough, Dorian!" Mina snapped at him. "This is not helping. To find Tom, we need to cooperate. Now, Henry," She turned to Jekyll, but he had left the room at the bidding of the butler. "I'll send someone to request the use of Nemo's automobile. It can get us around much faster. We'll break up in teams and check out the area around where you. . . ." She looked over at Skinner. "Saw Tom last."

"I've got a few contacts in the area." Skinner wanted to make amends. "I can start by askin' 'em if any of 'em remembers seein' Tom last night."

"Okay." Mina stepped quickly to the dinning room doors. "Let me send a servant to Nemo's, and then we can. . . ." Opening the door, she found herself face to face with Jekyll who was holding a box.

"We just received a communication from the Ripper," he stated quietly. "This." He held open the box. "Just arrived by an unknown messenger." Inside was Tom's pistol with a dismembered finger stuck in the trigger.

Dorian, Mina, and Skinner stared, momentarily speechless at the gruesome sight.

"There's a note inside," Jekyll continued.

To the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen:

I thought I would send you a keepsake of your former colleague. Something to remember him by.

Yours till death,

Jack the Ripper

Catch Me if you can

Forgetting himself, Dorian let out a string of curses. "Bloody, arrogant bastard! He thinks he's the bleeding king of murder and mayhem. I'll show him how to. . . ." Breaking off, he quickly regained his self-control. Grabbing his hat and cane, he started for the door.

"Dorian," Mina called after him. "My plan still stands. As soon as Nemo's automobile arrives, we should go to the East End, talk to people, and search the area."

Putting his hat on, Dorian stopped and turned to Mina. "I have a few contacts of my own that I want to check out. I'll meet you in three hours at. . . ." He raised an eyebrow at Skinner. "The pub where you were drinking last night?"

"The Britannia pub," Skinner confirmed.

"The Britannia pub on Commercial Street." Dorian was familiar with the drinking establishment. "In three hours."

**

A banging of a door, voices, and footsteps aroused Tom from his stupor. The dead woman still lie across from, eyes still wide open in terror. Fear rose in his throat. Had the Ripper returned? Again a pair of legs appeared on the other side of the table, but this time they were fashionably attired.

Tom tried to shout, but the words came out from a raspy, weak voice. "I'm here. On the floor."

"Tom!" His name was called out, and a familiar face appeared in front of him.

"Dorian." His whole body sagged with relief.

"Henry, I need your services over here," Dorian yelled to Dr. Jekyll, as he jerked at Tom's chains. "The key! The bloody key." He looked around wildly for a moment, but too impatient to search properly, he stood up." Duck your head," he ordered, as he delivered a strong kick to the table leg, splintering it.

Tom's hands were still chained together, but at least he could finally sit up. Shaky, he looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt, blood, and his own puke.

"Here." Dorian pulled out a snow-white handkerchief. "Let me help you." He gently wiped away the worst of the grime and throw-up.

"She's dead." Dr. Jekyll had come over and was stooped down, examining the dead woman.

His pronouncement caused Dorian to roll his eyes. "You don't say doctor," he said mockingly. "Well, if you're quite finished diagnosing that patient, you can come here and see to one who is still alive."

"Of-of course." Jekyll scooted over to where Tom was being held up by Dorian.

Through the whole nightmare, Tom had managed to keep a semblance of control, refusing to allow himself to have a seizure, but with the arrival of his rescuers, he allowed himself to collapse. Body stiffening, the shaking started.

"Tom, focus!" Dr. Jekyll said sharply as he snapped his fingers in front of Tom's face. "Hang on, I'll give you some laudanum." He opened his medical bag and began rummaging for the bottle of laudanum, while keeping one eye on Tom.

"Wait with the laudanum," Dorian ordered. "He needs something else first."

"Just what are you talking about, Gray," Jekyll said angrily. He didn't like that his medical order was countermanded by Dorian. "Sawyer here needs something for his pain, and then a fast trip to the hospital."

"By all means, let's take him to a hospital." In one smooth move, Dorian picked Tom up from the floor.

"Just a minute, Gray!" Jekyll grabbed the other man's arm. "I'm the doctor here, and you have. . . ."

"Henry," Mina interrupted, giving Jekyll a warning look. "Nemo," she called over her shoulder. "Can you instruct your man to drive us to Westminster Hospital?"

"Of course," Nemo agreed. "And Skinner, and I." He glanced over at Rodney. "Will alert the authorities and wait for them."

"I should stay too," Jekyll stated, giving Mina a confused, angry look. "Examine the bodies, and. . .body parts here. I'm sure the police will want a medical opinion."

"We need you to be with Tom now," Mina disagreed. "The police will have their own medical expert. Let them handle it."

Jekyll opened his mouth to argue some more. Both Dorian and Mina's overbearing attitudes were infuriating. "I. . . ."

"Please, Henry." Mina flashed him another telling look. "Trust me," she whispered in his ear.

Slightly appeased, Jekyll nodded his consent, as he picked up his bag and followed Mina and Dorian to Nemo's automobile.

**

July 18, 1900

Relaxing in the privacy of Jekyll's study, Mina and Henry were finally enjoying of moment of calm. The events of the last couple days had exhausted them.

"Brilliant idea about sewing Tom's thumb back on." Mina sipped a cup of tea, which was laced, with a bit of brandy.

"Well, logically if Tom. . . ." Jekyll cleared his throat. "Ingests Dorian's blood on a daily basis, then it stands to reason he would have some of Gray's healing power."

Closing his eyes for a moment, he played back in his mind the scene in the automobile on the way to Westminster Hospital. Tom sucking on Dorian's finger, teeth biting hard into a gash made with a sharp knife, so the wound would not heal over.

"You knew, didn't you?" Jekyll eyed Mina closely, trying to read her face.

"I. . . ." She carefully set her cup in its saucer and set it on a small end table next. "Suspected but didn't know for sure, until yesterday. After what happened on the Nautilus a week ago, I began to have my suspicions. I kept hoping though, they weren't true. Can you imagine being reliant on a man like Dorian? Poor Tom's life depends on that man's whims. It's a dreadful fate."

"So that's how Sawyer survived the bullets to the head and still survives now," Jekyll pondered. "But I don't see him surviving for long. You're right about Gray. He'll decide that Tom bores him one day and throw him out. He's already threatened as much."

"Tom should have died already." Mina's words were callous, but experience taught her to be a realist. "He has actually lived beyond his time, and perhaps, perhaps death will be a better fate than Dorian Gray."

**

July 19, 1900

He was trapped in a pool of blood and body parts. The screams of the dying filled his ears.

It was dream, and part of him knew that, but he still couldn't stop the half yelp that came out of his mouth, as he woke up with a start, heart racing, blood pumping.

"You're here with me. The Ripper can't hurt you anymore." A voice reassured him.

Still gasping, Tom looked over at Dorian, who was lounging in a chair next to the bed.

"I'm. . .where. . . ?" Disoriented and confused, Tom studied his surroundings. "I thought I remember being in the hospital."

"You were. Yesterday," Dorian explained. "I brought you home last night. They operated on your finger." He nodded at Tom's bandaged hand.

Holding it up, Tom couldn't describe the feeling of relief at seeing an attached finger again, even though it hurt like hell. "The doctors were able to put it back?" he asked with surprise. He hadn't thought that the medical profession was advanced enough to reattach a severed finger.

"Those idiots only knew how to sew it back together," Dorian said with contempt. "It's my blood that will heal it."

"Your blood." Tom lay back on the pillows. The secret medicine that Dorian had been giving him, his blood mixed with laudanum. "So now I owe you my life and my finger. How am I supposed to pay you back?"

"Don't worry. I'll be letting you know when I want payment." Dorian's attitude was casual, which had Tom gritting his teeth. Between Jack the Ripper and Dorian Gray, his life was hell. "Always wanted to have adventure," he mumbled softly. "And I've had it."

"What?" Dorian sat up straight, trying to hear what Tom had said.

"I want to go home," Tom said louder, as he wistfully thought of his hometown, St. Petersburg, Missouri where Jack the Ripper was just a boogeyman in a dime novel, and they never heard of people who were immortal, vampiric, invisible, or turned themselves into their mutated, dark half. "Funny," he continued his musing. "I always wanted to get out of St. Petersburg and see the world, and now all I want is to go back there. Go back home." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"You'll never go back there," Dorian stated with certainty. "It's not your home anymore. Your home is here now with me, and that will never change."

****

Finis

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