Actions

Work Header

Dying Scream

Summary:

Henry Jekyll has two choices when it comes to Hyde, give up, or fight back. He fights back this time, and leaves Edward with no weapons to defend himself. Until he's just, gone.
Here's the thing about the Society of Arcane Sciences though, they rewrite the definition of impossible every day. And they're not about to let their friend vanish forever.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Withdrawal

Chapter Text

    So that was it.

    Hyde was going to die.

    Jekyll had it all figured out, he’d crafted a version of the serum that triggered the transition but left Hyde too drugged and sluggish to cause trouble, perfect for waiting it out and slowly weaning himself off of the formula.

    Today he’d taken the last one to turn back, after this, Hyde was never going to have the body again. Of course, this time, Henry hadn’t drugged him, he could move and think clearly enough. But with the police on them for arson, he couldn’t even leave the Society tonight.

    He sat in the corner of the office, curled up in a ball, tears leaking down his face as he tried stubbornly to fight them. In his mind, panic burned as embers, ever present and painful, alongside the conversation he’d had with Jekyll before.

    “After tonight, you’re going to fade.” He’d said it out of nowhere, over paperwork, while Edward had been sulking in the mirror as he’d taken to doing. Hyde had sat up, “What?”

    Henry sat back, running a hand through his hair. He looked healthier now, the shadows under his eyes had faded, color returned to his cheeks and eyes, he smiled more, all because he knew Hyde was going to die. “Tonight is the last time you’ll have our, my body. After that, as the serum works itself out of my system, the intense hallucinations it created, IE you, will fade.”

    Hyde stood, “Henry come on, you know you can’t live without me.” He was lying, Henry had been doing just fine leaving him drugged out on the floor of the laboratory so the withdrawal didn’t kill them first. The time between transformations had been getting longer too, it was no secret Jekyll was trying to quit it.

    A week after the fire, the police still looking for him, they- he’d had no choice.

    Hyde pressed himself against the glass of the mirror, “You need me.”

    “I do not,” the doctor said sternly, standing. “Haven’t I made that very clear? This society depends on me, all these people, especially after the exhibition, I need control over my life again.” He glared at Edward, “I need you gone.”

    “Henry, you can’t kill me, I’m part of you!” Edward snarled, bending the mirror, pushing out of it, allowing his form to become wild and smokey. Henry was unphased, his glare steady as the darkness of the hallucination surrounded him, “I created you, drew you forth with alchemy, I can smother you the same way.”

    “You can’t smother me.”

    “I can. I haven’t ordered any more chemicals and I’ve burned all the papers to order more,” Jekyll said firmly. “The last of it will be used tonight, without the sedatives, and you’re welcome to do as you please.” He leaned closer, “If you dare to tell any of them what I’ve done, I will craft something that leaves you in agony until you change back, do you understand?”

    Edward stepped back in fear, his hallucinatory form faulting around him, “What? You’re threatening me? How dare you.

    “I dare because this is my body, and you’re the mistake I intend to fix,” Henry said, turning and striding for the cabinet.

    That was two hours ago.

    Edward buried his head in his hands, the visceral reality of the moment making his fear burn brighter than it had in his hallucination form. God that’s all he was, a malfunction, a mistake , and this was his last night. Having the body always sucked for that reason, everything felt more real, more intense, and more painful. He couldn’t even go get laid because of the warrant out for his arrest, all he could do was stay here and be miserable, and it hurt so bloody much.

    Henry was dead silent in their mind, but Edward could feel him watching.

    He made sure the red-eyed prick was watching when he stood, pulling fresh paper from a notebook and writing. He wrote and wrote and wrote because he couldn’t bring himself to speak. To Rachel, to each of the Lodgers, there was a stack of letters by the time he was done.

    Jekyll drifted by in the glass of a wine bottle, are you finished with your suicide note then?

    “It’s not a bloody suicide note, it’s a murder weapon,” Hyde growled, glaring at the reflection with tears pricking at his eyes. “And you’re fucking mistaken if that’s all I’m doing.”

    He saw Jekyll go pale as he turned, going to the cabinet full of glass bottles and vials, Edward no! Hyde grabbed the doors and threw them open, ripping out the shelf and jumping back as glass and chemicals came spilling down. Edward Hyde!!
    “It’s my last night, and you’re going to remember what you did to me,” Hyde snarled, grabbing the cabinet itself and throwing it down onto the shattered glass and sizzling fluids. Henry screamed at him as he flung books from shelves, used the chair to bash the mirror beside the door, ripped down the curtains, and shredded notes until the room looked as if a hurricane had passed through it.

    Breathing heavily, throat catching, Hyde dropped to his knees in the center of the trashed room, cupping his face in his hands and breaking down in sobs. What he said, Jekyll wouldn’t remember, but it mostly comprised of the phrase: “I don’t want to die.”

    How sad, a man who didn’t even technically live, sobbing over the loss of his life. He had no impact on the world, he’d left no mark, and no one was going to care that he was gone. The thoughts of what he was going to lose, the moonlight nights, the star swept skies, the thunder storms and violent sunsets, the burn of absinthe and of lust, the ache of exercise in the legs and chest, all of that was going to be gone.

    And there was no way to stop it.

    Edward Hyde was hopeless.

    How long did he have?

    It was four days before he noticed the changes.

    It had been almost as if nothing had happened, Hyde was annoying, Jekyll tried his best to ignore it, and then it changed. Edward was going on and on about how irritated he was, he’d been losing form more frequently, becoming bursts of color and action as opposed to a human shape, filling the air with hallucinations more impressive than any he’d done before.

    But four days after the final draught, Hyde’s face went pale as he realized he could not escape the mirror. Beyond the glass it was a panicked whirlwind of color and voice, but no matter how he pounded on the glass of the mirror, it would not bend, it would not melt or warp, he could not escape.

    And Jekyll, he bloody smiled, he seemed outright ecstatic that Hyde could not escape his glass confines. He could not even drift along at Jekyll’s shadow any longer! The mirror felt small now, confined, and Edward felt claustrophobia and panic clawing at his mind at all times now, his time was running out.

    Again and again he tried to scare Henry, but it became harder and harder to change his shape from human. Two weeks from the last night, he was a wholly human hallucination now, his power and terror gone. He took to begging now as opposed to fighting, every chance he got, begging for his life.

    Jekyll brushed him off, “What life? You were never real Hyde.”

    And just as the hallucinations had done, Edward’s voice began to fade, and that was the most terrifying. Jekyll remarked how much nicer it was now that he was quieter, Hyde had to shout to be heard, and he only got quieter.

He could scream and pound against the glass, but Henry would not hear a sound. His throat would be raw, face streaked with tears, begging and begging, but not a sound would escape his lips. He was silenced, trapped, and no one even knew. Time and time again he tried to tell the Lodgers, but of course none of them could hear him, and it hurt even worse when they came looking for him.

Jekyll held Hyde’s letters hostage, hid them, blamed the mess Hyde had made on an accident that got way out of hand, but no one believed him. He continued to improve, sleeping well, eating regularly, it seemed better now that Hyde was gone. But he wasn’t gone, was he? He was still there in the mirror.

Just beyond the glass, sulking, arms folded, head bowed, eyes ringed with dark circles, face pale and drawn. He’d stopped screaming and protesting, how long ago had that been? Long enough, he just looked pathetic now.

And then, one day, he stood and waved to get Henry’s attention. He looked ill, horribly so, white as a sheet and shaking. Jekyll stood before the withering mirror of his alter self and raised a brow, “Yes Hyde?”

Edward leaned forward, fogging the glass with his breath, raising a shaking hand.

Goodbye.

Jekyll frowned, “Hyde, I don’t understand, why-” he looked up to meet Edward’s eye and saw himself staring back. The foggy message was gone, that place in his mind where Hyde had been was silent, and only Henry stared out from the mirror.

But, it couldn’t be that simple, could it? Was he free?

Henry raised a shaking hand and touched it to the cool glass, watching the reflection do the same. Every gesture in sync, no sign of green in those eyes, and a wide smile of relief on his face.

He was gone.

Hyde was gone, and Henry Jekyll was whole.

Chapter 2: Missing

Chapter Text

    “He would’ve left some message, gone out for drinks one last time, even if it was just ale in the kitchen,” Rachel said firmly, planting her finger on the countertop in rhythm with her words.

Jasper, who sat across from her, shrugged. “I don’t know Rachel, he, seemed pretty forgetful, how do you know he didn’t just leave? And what if he got chased a few weeks after the fire? Isn’t that about when he disappeared? And it’s been like a month and-”

“He would have told me ,” Rachel snapped, planting her hands on the counter to lift herself up and glare at Jasper, who leaned back. He glanced away nervously, balancing on his stool, “I uh, you, make a good point.”

“He would have told someone I think,” said a voice. They looked up to see Luckett walk in and he shrugged, “No word to anyone, he just vanished. We’ve been discussing with the doctor but, he insists Hyde left after the fire. But, that mess a few weeks ago looked just like something Hyde would do, I think something happened to him.”

“What like, he was murdered?” asked Jasper nervously, ideas of a bloodsoaked Doctor Jekyll popping into his head. Luckett shrugged, “Perhaps, everyone’s been on the lookout for him. Even if he’s in hiding, you think he’d visit his friends or something.”

There was a general solemn sigh and Rachel stood straighter. “Where’s Zosi? He knows where all of us are all the time right? Because he’s supposed to be our guardian or something? He can find Edward!”

“Zosi? You think he’s going to be able to find him when police couldn’t?” Jasper asked, standing from his seat. Rachel nodded firmly, “You bet! Come on, I think I know where we can find him.”

She lead the way out into the Society, running along with Jasper in tow as they’d become accustomed too. A bit of searching, and they found Zosi lying outside Jekyll’s door, sighing sadly. He’d been like this for a while, and no one had any idea why.

“Zosi! Zosi-boy!” Jasper called as they approached, smiling as the pup perked up a bit and walked over to greet them. He knelt and scratched behind Zosi’s ears, “Good boy Zosi, good boy!”

Rachel knelt too and the grim hopping up on her knees, licking at her face. “Easy boy! Listen close, we have something very important you need to find. You know where Edward is don’t you?” Zosi tilted his head, but he was listening intently. “Well, find Edward! Show us where he is!”

Zosi nodded and leaped off her, scrambling along the floor, claws and bones clicking as he took off as a sprint. Jasper jumped to his feet and ran after the pup, Rachel hiked up her skirt and ran too. “Come on Zosi! Where is he?”

Up the stairs they raced, nearly knocking Maijabi out of the way in passing as they ran towards the chemistry lab. Zosi skid around a corner and started whimpering, pawing and clawing at the leg of an individual who shouted in surprise. Rachel and Jasper slid into the room and paused, watching Zosi whimper at Doctor Jekyll, Virginia Ito watching on with a frown. They shared a look and Jasper walked forward, picking up Zosi.

“Sorry Doctor, er, Henry, we were looking for Hyde, thought Zosi might know where he was,” Jasper said, sheepishly scratching behind Zosi’s ears. A flicker of pain crossed Henry’s face and he sighed, “Yes, I do suppose you all don’t believe that he left.”

“He would’ve left a note!” Rachel protested, stepping forward, gesturing with her hands. “I know him Henry! Nearly as well as you do! He wouldn’t just go!”

“Rachel he was a coward, if he’d wanted to leave he could have just forgotten,” Jekyll said. Rachel became livid, “No! He was scatterbrained but he wasn’t a total ass! He would’ve told us, he would’ve told me! He was our friend Henry! Where did he go??”

Again, Jekyll’s expression became pained and he said: “Excuse me,” before walking off. Rachel glared at him, “He knows where Hyde is! I know that look and that’s his secret look!”

“Or you could be overreacting and overanalyzing,” Ito said, leaning back against the table.

“What makes you say that ms. Ito?” asked Jasper, gently setting Zosi down. Ito considered it, one could almsot see the gears turning away in their head. “Hyde, wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t bad but, he wasn’t good.”

“He would’ve told us,” Rachel pouted, even as Jasper pat her shoulder in comfort.

~

    Elsewhere, Jekyll leaned heavily against a doorframe, feeling his heart thundering in his chest, panic racing like a steam engine through his mind. What was wrong with him? Hyde was gone, there was no need to fear being discovered any longer, no evidence remained! He was safe!

    But, something in his mind insisted something was wrong, that he’d be caught, that they’d find out he was a murderer.

    He wasn’t a murderer though! Hyde had it coming, for all the trouble he’d caused, he’d never even truly lived in the first place! He was a hallucination, a collection of chemicals that thought themself a real person.

    Edward’s voice came back to him, the way it’d shaken as he’d cried and screamed and begged, echoing in his mind like the dying screams they were. He hadn’t even had a chance for last words, to write a will, Henry hadn’t given him that right, he hadn’t deserved it.

    So why, why why why did it suddenly hurt so much? The silence thundering in his ears, the missing substance of his shadows, the thin look of his reflection, why did it hurt? He was alone, whole in body and mind once more, it was a good thing! Yet, could he be missing the blonde trickster?

    No, no he would never miss Hyde.

    Jekyll forced his fear into anger, anger at himself for being irrational, for Hyde leaving such scars on his psyche, and he stood a bit straighter. A hand through his bangs, a quick adjusting of the waistcoat, and once again his facade was in tact. And no longer was it threatened.

    But how long could he keep it up?

    With Hyde, he could fall back, allow himself to fall apart while Hyde went and had fun and no one would notice or care. Now it was just him and an emptiness in the back of his mind like a cliff, as if the world had fallen away behind him and left him teetering on oblivion.

    Oh god, Hyde’s purple prose had stuck around without him, fantastic, what else had that gremlin left be-

    “Doctor?”

    Henry nearly leaped out of his skin, his calm facade shattering once more as he spun to face Mr. Bird, carrying a small box of what appeared to be seeds and a book. He frowned upon seeing the pale and drawn look on Jekyll’s face, “I’m sorry if I scared you sir, you looked as if you were a million miles away. Are you quite alright?”

    “I’m, fine,” he lied with a practiced smile. “Merely, without having Hyde to assist me these days, I’m surprisingly stressed.”

    “Do you know where he went? He kind of just, vanished after the fire all those weeks ago,” Bird said, tilting his head slightly. Jekyll bit the inside of his cheek, scrambling for an explanation, “Well, you do know we had to blame him for the fire. He told me he was leaving London and then, not a word.”

    He folded his hands behind his back, puffed out his chest, and grinned widely, hoping that would work. Bird’s frown only deepened, “Alright, sir, if you say so.” Henry breathed a sigh of relief as the botanist walked past, but apparently he sighed too loudly because Bird placed a hand on his shoulder and made him stiffen.

    “Doctor, you know you can talk to us, right? We’re gossips yes but, if it’s serious-”

    “Bird, honestly, I’m quite alright,” he lied, turning to pull away and stepping back. “I’m more concerned for all of you, anyhow. I have to return to the chemistry lab, finish my work with Ito, didn’t mean to get in your way.” And with that, he turned and walked off before Bird could get another word in.

    Ice was creeping around Jekyll’s heart.

Chapter 3: Stress

Chapter Text

    It was Sunday.

    There was an unspoken rule that doors were left unlocked and rooms were tidied on Sunday, sooty rugs got the life beaten out of them, windows were thrown open to bring fresh air into the Society, and the halls were swept. The Lodgers shared the work for the rest of the building, mostly, but it was Rachel’s responsibility to clean Henry’s office. He said it was because she knew where he kept the files and not to disturb the papers on the desk, but she suspected it was because he trusted her to be around his chemicals and such.

    This week, however, she’d have to break that trust and do some snooping.

    She needed to know what happened to Edward, what happened to her friend, and Henry knew.

    Of course, work came first, so she swept and dusted and stacked up his paperwork all nice and neat like usual, and only after the window was opened for the first time in who knows how long, did she start poking around.

    Before she’d seen him hide paperwork between the books on the shelf, all alphabetized of course, so there she looked first. She checked between the E and H books, then near J and L for letter, because Henry liked to have things organized, but found no papers. Rachel began to check inside the books that she found with less dust on them, eventually coming upon one with no dust and a lump within the pages.

    Flipping it open, she found a number of letters stuffed between the pages, and the first she pulled out was her own. The handwriting she recognized, Hyde’s messy scrawl, but it looked deliberate and neat. The corner of the folded pager had a little ripple on it, like water damage, small and circular, and a few small green stains.

    It took a great deal of will for Rachel to fight the urge to open it, stuffing the letter in a pocket and grabbing the others to do the same. She shut the book and rushed to finish the rest of her cleaning, impatient to find out what these letters had been hiding. With the dusting and organizing finished, she checked who each letter was addressed to, and found one for each of the lodgers.

    Some were clearly smaller than others, but there were so many letters.

    Rachel left the letters in front of the doors to whom they belonged to, knowing eventually their reader would find it and thus find out what was inside.

    It was far too long before she could finally stow away to her small room in a corner of the Society, among her knicknacks and trinkets where the clutter felt, not claustrophobic, but cozy. The candle she’d been given as a gift flared to light with the strike of a match, and provided more than enough light to read by as she unfolded the letter.

    Dear Rachel,

    We knew each other well, didn’t we? I’d like to think we did, hard to tell when you hardly know yourself like I did. I remember meeting you in the Sugar Stacks, though you didn’t know it was me at the time, and thinking back it still doesn’t seem like me does it?

    You don’t remember, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter.

    Rachel, you were a wonderful friend, and one of the few people I’m genuinely going to miss in the next life.

    Don’t let them grieve me, don’t martyr me, and don’t let Jekyll paint me as a monster. I was a prick, an ass, an idiot, impulsive, whatever, but I wasn’t as evil as I pretended. God I wish I could’ve been some days, that I’d actually set the fire so that way I wouldn’t feel so betrayed that I got blamed for getting all of you in trouble.

    That’s why all of this is happening, because I lead a fight against a madman and expected to get away without blame when everything went to shit.

    I miss you, I really do, and it’s horrible I can’t say goodbye in person.

    We both know I’m not a sentimental guy, but there’s something awful about not being able to say goodbye to your best friend the last time, you understand.

    I’m dying, as I write this, my time is running out and by the time you read this I’ll be long gone.

    But, like I said, don’t grieve me, don’t martyr me, don’t let them make me something I’m not. Remember the stupid shit we did together, the times I made them laugh and the times I made you smile. Remember when I annoyed you and teased, when I got punched for going too far, remember the best parts of me and please don’t let me be forgotten.

    God, nothing terrifies me more than being forgotten.

    Rachel, I love you like a sister, and I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please don’t forget me.

    Sincerely,

    Your unworthy and unhappy friend,

    Edward Hyde

    Those last words rung in Rachel’s head like a gong, and she found herself reading it over and over and over again. Her hand crept up to cover her mouth, and something dripped down over her fingertips.

    So he was gone, and Jekyll had been hiding his goodbye. How long ago had he vanished? How long ago had he died? He was gone, but where? Buried somewhere? Dumped in the Thames and washed out to sea? Burned?

    He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye, was that Jekyll’s fault too?

    But he was gone, gone for sure, and this was all that was left.

    Maybe Zosi had known Jekyll was hiding something, but what did it matter? Of course he wouldn’t have been able to find Edward unless his ghost was floating around here too.

    He was gone.

    Rachel buried her face in her hands and let out a choked sob, allowing herself to be covered with the cold, yet comforting, grip of sorrow. She cursed Moreau for coming and causing trouble, she cursed Edward for being an idiot and going to fight, she cursed Jekyll for keeping it secret, and she wished there had been some way to know sooner.

    How had he died? Disease? Poison? Had he been hanged? Shipped off to an asylum and tortured? Drowned? It seemed even Edward hadn’t known how he was going to die, only that he was, if only there were some way to know!

    If only he could’ve told her, maybe they could’ve saved him.

    Maybe.

~

    Dinner was late that night, but from the looks of it, no one seemed to mind.

    There was, a thick sort of silence in the dining room, even with everyone in their usual places, it seemed off.

    Doddle, surprisingly, was the first to speak.

    “I’m, guessing we all got similar letters then,” he said in a soft voice, looking up from his hands, folded on the table. There were a few murmurs of agreement and heavy sighs, the silence returned.

    Helsby suddenly pounded his hands on the table, “Why didn’t Jekyll just tell us? Edward was our bloody friend and he thought, he thought he could just hide the fact that he’s bloody dead?”

    “Ranjit-”

    “No! It’s outrageous! We deserved to know!” He dragged his hands down his face, “What other secrets has he been neglecting to tell us because we don’t need to know?’

    “He had his reasons I’m sure,” Cantilupe said, folding her arms and looking away, “But I do wish he’d told us sooner. Surely with all of us, we might’ve been able to save him.”

    “Unless he wanted Hyde dead,” Helsby grumbled. When everyone looked at him with varying degrees of insult and disgust, he raised his hands in defense, “Oh pardon me! Henry hated Edward, look as much as he played it off, those two hated each other! I’m sure he and Lanyon would be glad to be rid of Hyde.”

    “You shut your bloody mouth!” Flowers snapped, suddenly sitting up from her own seat and planting her hands on the table. The way her lip quivered, she was close to tears. “We already lost one friend today, must you destroy another??”

    Helsby stared at her, and wilted a little, clearly feeling bad for having upset Flowers. Lavender put a hand on her shoulder, intending to comfort, and got a tear soaked hug instead. A few glares were shot Helsby’s direction, chastising him for making ones of the softer and more sensitive of the Lodgers cry, but even those glares weren’t truly angry.

    Archer broke the silence this time, and his normally chipper tone was somber. “I for one think we ought to confront Jekyll about the fact he didn’t tell us. Maybe after a little while, so we’ve all got a chance to pull ourselves together. But, frankly, we deserved to know about this, or at least to receive the letters once he’d passed, and not when Rachel found them hidden.”

    “Jekyll won’t give a straight answer and you know it,” Griffin countered stiffly. He seemed the most together of anyone, but to a trained eye, one could see he kept fiddling with the hem of his apron and sleeves, a nervous tick. “Asking him is only going to stir up trouble.”

    “So he shouldn’t have told us?” Archer asked, frowning.

    “No, I’m saying, you’re not going to get an answer out of him,” Griffin snapped, glaring, “None of us are. Lanyon maybe, but he won’t tell us! Hell I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even like most of us.”

    “So what do we do?” asked Jasper weakly, arms folded on the table, eyes unfocused and spacey. There was silence, because no one knew.

    “Then, we wait.”

    The eyes in the room turned to Rachel, who had been silent all through serving dinner and the following conversation. Her eyes were still puffy and her cheeks wet, but there was a look of cold determination on her face. “He won’t tell us? Well, we’ll wait till he notices we know, then make him tell us.”

    There was a small mumble of agreements, it wasn’t a bad idea.

    Well, it wouldn’t have been a bad idea if Doctor Jekyll hadn’t had his hand on the door, prepared to come in. He turned quickly and walked off, that fearful rush swarming back into his head as his pace picked up, running for his office in fear. He ripped the book from the shelve and searched inside, heart stopping as he found Hyde’s letters missing from their place within.

    They knew.

    After so long trying to hide Edward’s disappearance, somehow they’d found out.

    Good news, none of them thought he’d murdered Hyde, but the bad news was that they no longer trusted him. If he told them the truth of who Edward was, would they even believe him at this point? Worse yet, would they completely believe him and hate him even worse than they were beginning to now?

    Why hadn’t he burned those damn letters as soon as Hyde was trapped? Why hadn’t he completely erased everything of Hyde’s? What had forced him to keep those letters?

    And why did he only now feel like crying?

Chapter 4: Decomposition

Chapter Text

    Something was wrong with Jekyll.

    In fact, something was wrong with the whole damn Society.

    Robert found it surprising, how quickly the change had taken place, the lively and welcoming atmosphere of the Society for Arcane Sciences changing into a cold and lonely feeling. He noticed it in how the window over the lobby was closed most of the time now, how the air seemed only to be full of the sounds of work, how there was no laughter or excited peals of shouting that would tear through the ambiance every so often. What had happened?

    He knew Hyde had been fired after the fire, pardon the pun, and had vanished, but this silence was surely not his fault. And it surely could not be why Henry had gone silent too, spending more time at the Society and requesting to be alone, all after he’d been doing so well!

    When Hyde had first left, color returned to Henry’s cheeks, his laugh was louder and more genuine, it was something that would’ve made a younger Robert swoon. He’d wanted to go out more, he talked more, smiled more, and it was all so wonderful to see. Without Hyde, Henry had been happy, Robert could see that much.

    So, why now, was he falling apart? Had something happened? Did one of the Lodgers get injured?

    Had there been a death?

    Lanyon intended to get to the bottom of this, and after a week of near silence from his friend, he marched himself to Jekyll’s home and knocked briskly on the door. Poole let him in, greeting with that same familiarity before directing him up to the study.

    Jekyll’s study at the Society was as much a show as the rest of the building, yes much of it was genuine, but much of it was also for show. This study was different, disorganized, colorful, stuffed to the brim with books and glassware and chemicals, very nearly a laboratory. Many a time, Lanyon had found his friend hard at work within, today he just found him seated at the desk, staring out the window.

    His eyes had a strange look to them, as if they were focused on something beyond the window, beyond the horizon. Poole explained he hadn’t left the study for nearly two days now, and that was enough to make Robert fume. Of course, he didn’t make it clear how irritated he was when he approached, “Henry? I’ve uh, heard you were upset, I came to make sure you were alright.”

    “I’m fine,” was the answer. Jekyll sat up from where he’d slumped in his plush chair, sighing, “Robert, there is nothing wrong, in fact, things have never been better. Yet, I feel something is wrong.”

    “Is this about Hyde?” Lanyon asked, folding his hands behind his back and taking a step forward, posture not unlike a curious bird. Jekyll turned quickly, looking as if he’d been stuck with an electric rod, and Robert could see the toll that had been taken on his friend.

    The shadows had begun to ring his eyes again, the color was once again gone from his cheeks, unshaven, and his hair was positively a mess. Robert frowned, “Henry, what happened? You look as if you haven’t been sleeping again.”

    “No, it’s, it’s not even that.” He stood and ran a hand through his hair, fixing it for the most part. “I, I’ve just been in a slump these recent days after there was, an accident at the Society. Everyone’s gone quiet and I can’t help but feel as if it’s my fault.”

    “Surely it wasn’t, you would’ve told me if it were,” Robert said sweetly, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I mean, you would, wouldn’t you?”

    “I would,” he admitted, bowing his head slightly and looking away in shame.

    “What say you get dressed and we go down to the Society, I know there’s a play on at six tonight, might be worth seeing,” Lanyon continued, gently prodding Jekyll. The doctor smiled a little and nodded, “Yes that, sounds quite nice. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

    Lanyon could tell his friend was putting up a front, after all, it was the same face Robert had taught him to construct. The fact he was even coming though, that meant something of what he said was genuine. But even as they hailed a cab and travelled towards the glamorous house in which the Society was placed, Robert couldn’t help but feel deeply unsettled by his friend’s unhappiness.

    It’d come from nowhere and latched on like a parasite, feeding off of Henry until he was bled dry, as it had before. Lanyon never had been very good with helping, but damn him if he didn’t give it his damndest try.

    They made small talk along the ride and as they paid the cabby upon arrival. The Society itself seemed lighter now, but that was likely because the roof window was actually open for the first time in what seemed like ages. There was a little more energy to the air, the buzz of voices had returned to the humdrum of the building.

    Something new though, had joined the lobby.

    Neither doctor was quite sure where it’d come from, but it made Jekyll’s face go white as a sheet and made him step back in fear.

    A small table that had once held a clockwork globe had been cleared and draped with a black cloth bearing hand torn holes, Hyde’s old cloak. A sketch of Hyde, done by someone with skill, was with black and sat in the center of the table, surrounded by a number of strange items. A small candle, half melted, matches, a small dagger, some broken cogs, a length of green ribbon, a small cat made of clay, a wine glass that had clearly held a cheap wine, almost like some kind of shrine.

    Robert frowned, “Well, that’s certainly interesting. Henry what do you-” he turned to look at his friend and found Henry backing away, pressing himself against the glass of another display, a gloved hand reaching to cover his mouth. “Henry?”

    “Oh god, Robert what’ve I done?” he said, voice sounding like a wheeze as tears began to prick in his eyes. “I try to get rid of him, to free us from his stupid antics and he keeps, coming back. I’m being haunted Robert!”

    Lanyon blinked in surprise, reaching out for Jekyll, only to miss as his friend turned and ran, hiding his face in his arm. “Henry wait!”

    Beyond the safety of the office door, Lanyon questioned again. “Henry, what’s wrong? What happened to Hyde?”

    “He’s dead, Robert,” Henry snapped, ripping off his hat and casting it aside, taking off his jacket as if it were hurting him. “He’s gone, I did everything I could to separate him from us and he died. And now the Lodgers know and they don’t trust me and everything seems inclined to make me suffer for firing him. I didn’t kill him Robert! I didn’t kill him.” He covered his face and sank into a chair, mumbling the phrase over and over as he curled in on himself.

    Slowly, frightened, Lanyon stepped forward and pulled off his own coat. He draped it around Henry’s shoulders in a gesture he hoped would seem considerate. “Why, why would anyone think you’d killed him?”

    “Because I hated him? Because I showed no concern when he vanished?” Henry babbled, holding his face in his hands, breath coming in quickening gasps and his shoulders beginning to shake. He felt tears tugging at his eyes, brought on the idea of his friends, people he’d consider family at this point, leaving because of a misunderstanding.

    If only they truly knew, if only they could know! But if they did, wouldn’t that make them leave sooner? Would they really put their trust in a man who’s life was writ in lies? Who was half a mad blonde twig? Who’d willingly cut himself off a drug to kill that alter self?

    That alter self that they now probably liked more than the original?

    To Robert’s horror, Henry choked down a sob and buried his face, beginning to cry loudly, shoulders heaving as the stress bubbled over like magma. He knelt and wrapped his arms around Jekyll, speaking softly as his friend cried onto his shoulder, knowing full well how the stress could build up. If only he knew just how much, how close his friend was to breaking, even when he denied it.

    All it would take would be the right push, and he would snap.

    A push like, say, Rachel throwing open the door of the office and, her own face twisted with anger, eyes bubbling with tears, shouting: “You know what? I’m done waiting! What the hell happened to Edward, Jekyll? How did he die??”

    Jekyll stood abruptly, accidentally shoving Lanyon to the side, the jacket sliding from his shoulder. “Rachel, Rachel please I can explain-”

    “You should’ve explained when we came asking!” she cried, storming forward, jabbing a finger in his chest.

    Jasper appeared in the doorway behind, his face going white at the scene. “Rachel! Please, I’m sure he can explain-”

    “He had his chance, I want answers now!”

    Before she could go on, the color drained completely from Henry’s already pale face and he cried out in pain, doubling over and clutching his head. Everyone was taken aback, Rachel’s anger turned into fear that she might’ve just given her close friend a heart attack. He dropped from his knees to all fours, moaning in pain and clutching his head.

    “No, NO! You were gone!” He cried, clutching at his head, pulling at his hair as a louder scream than before came from his chest.

    And suddenly, he looked up, standing quickly and grabbing Rachel’s shoulders, eyes wide and bright, beautiful green. “Rachel, Rachel can you hear me?”

    “What? Yes I can hear you Henry what the hell are you on abo-”

    “NOT, Henry,” he snapped, voice and eyes desperate. “It’s me, it’s Edward, I know you can’t believe me but you must, right now. I need to say goodbye before Henry takes his mind back. This is my last chance and I, I don’t, god Rachel, I don’t want to die!”

    She backed away in fear, staring at him with horrified eyes, looking to Lanyon and Jasper for answers. Jasper looked more confused than scared, and Lanyon looked as if his soul had departed, his eyes locked on the form of his friend.

    Or, was it even his friend?

    Henry- no, Edward, folded his arms and hunched his shoulders, too large for him, too long, all of it wrong and such a thin grasp on the moment. “You all are going to hate him for this, for creating me, but you have to understand I’m just part of him and-” he gestured vaguely around his head- “And I’m fading. I’m going to vanish, and I, I don’t want to but please, please don’t let me disappear completely, please. I, remember me or something because I don’t want to-”

    “It’s you, isn’t it?” This was Jasper speaking, not Rachel, not Lanyon, Jasper. He walked closer, frowning curiously, “It, really is you. You, were you always part of him?”

    “Ever since the beginning wolflet,” Edward answered, his typical smirk sad and strange on Jekyll’s face. He sighed angrily, “I mean, I get that he was mad after that event with Moreau, but, did I really deserve to die?”

    “Hell no!” Rachel this time, and her voice cracked as she spoke. She ran forward and hugged Edward, “You’re a prick but we don’t want you dead! Henry what the hell were you thinking?”

    “I’m a bloody hallucination and delusion, to him, he was just cutting himself off of a drug,” Edward mumbled, hugging Rachel as hard as he could, as if clinging desperately, afraid to vanish again. “Please, please don’t let me be remembered as a mista-AGH!”

    His knees gave out again and Rachel helped him to the ground where again he grabbed at his head, groaning in pain as his mind forced itself back. And again, he began to cry, folding in on himself, head in his hands. Rachel moved back, staring, face drawn.

    “Just, leave me,” he begged softly, hands clawing into his hair. “Get out of my head, just get out! I don’t, I don’t need you! None of us need you you stupid, blonde, idiot.” And Henry’s voice cracked into fresh sobs that shook his frame, leaving everyone staring.

    The office door was slammed shut as Lanyon stormed out.

    Jasper looked between the leaving doctor, his friend, and the mad alchemist, then turned to run after the doctor.

    “Doctor Lanyon! Wait!”

    “What for?” Robert snapped, turning and looking at Jasper his a wounded and scared expression. Jasper stopped and swallowed, “I, I can’t speak for Henry, but he needs you. Look, I get your upset, he should’ve told you about his true relation to Hyde but, can’t you see why he wouldn’t? You would’ve, abandoned him when he needed you most.”

    “So you’re saying he used me, Mr. Kaylock?” Lanyon answered stiffly.

    “No, I’m saying he valued your friendship, and didn’t want to lose it because of a stupid decision he made,” Jasper said, voice getting soft as he became more and more worried he was making a mistake. But Lanyon’s expression did soften a bit, and he looked towards the office doors where a few of the other Lodgers had begun to gather, looking in worriedly.

    He sighed heavily, “Damnit Henry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

    And he walked back to the office, motioning for everyone to leave, give them space.

Chapter 5: Revival

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

    “He’s not gone you know.”

    Ito looked up from her notes, frowning, “Pardon?”

    Doctor Maijabi sat opposite her at a table, between them vials of ghosts’ blood and ectoplasm filled the space with petri dishes and bottles. He shrugged slightly, sipping slowly from a small clay cup of tea, “Hyde, he isn’t gone.”

    Slowly, Ito lowered her notes. “I know, there’s no way he could be. You don’t do something like that to yourself and have it leave no mark.”

    Jekyll’s secret hadn’t stayed secret long after Hyde’s last, appearance. Rachel had been left shaken and sent to her room to gather her senses, there she’d remained while Lanyon did his best to draw answers from his upset and near catatonic friend. But after a while, Henry admitted to everything, and despite how it angered many of the Lodgers, it also helped to ease some of the pain they all shared. They knew the truth now, and many understood why this wasn’t something you could just come out and say, but there was still a simmering resentment aimed at Jekyll for what he’d done.

    For who he’d killed.

    “No, I’ve seen Hyde, in the mirror,” Maijabi explained in a voice far too casual. “Wandering behind Jekyll like a spirit, faded, ghoul-like, but there nonetheless. He doesn’t react to any sort of stimuli, I don’t think he even knows he’s still there.”

    “I’ve not seen such a thing.”

The doctor tapped his eye patch, “You must have a trained eye for such a thing. But his soul, if he even has one, is still present.”

    “Why are you telling me this?” Ito asked, closing her notebook slowly. “You, you don’t think we can save him, do you?”

    “I do. And I know you’ve studied the potion Jekyll used to bring him forth, do you think you could recreate it?”

    “Recreate it? Easily.” She tapped the notebook under her hand, “He took such detailed notes, should be easy to recreate. But, how will we separate Jekyll and Hyde? They are in the same body.”

    Maijabi took a long sip from his tea before speaking. “I have artifacts, used in past rituals for capturing spirits, a fracture of soul should be no different. We will need some sort of vessel for him or we’ll just have a Hyde in a bottle.”

    Ito sat up straight, brow furrowed, “You don’t expect us to ask her for help, do you? She barely tolerates being here and I’m almost certain she swore off graverobbing!”

    “Ito please, we both know with alchemy there’s no need for graverobbing,” Maijabi said coolly. “Besides, it’d be cruel to put Hyde in a body that did not feel familiar.”

    Virginia stared at the doctor for a long, long time, mouth drawn up in a small frown. When she spoke, it wasn’t accusatory, but genuinely curious. “Why are you telling me about this? I thought Hyde annoyed you.”

    “He does, but I’ve seen the blow his uh, unexistance has taken on everyone, on Doctor Jekyll.” A moment of silence as he considered his next words, “He didn’t deserve his punishment, and if we were able to bring him into our reality, not only would that greatly advance many of our studies, but it’d heal that wound Jekyll has left. At least somewhat”

    Ito looked away, observing the lab around them with its floating ghostly furniture, eyes lost in thought. And then, she stood. “I’ll go talk to her, is anyone else in on this?”

    “Griffin, Pennebrygg, Jasper, Sinnett, Lavender and Cantilupe, none of us knew how to approach her.”

    “And you’re asking me to because…?”

Maijabi smiled warmly, “Why, because she likes you Virginia.”

    Ito gave him an annoyed look, but sighed, and strode for the door.

    Frankenstein’s room was a large one, as it was home to them and the Creature, but it was also hidden behind a bookcase in the parlor on the bottom floor. (Couldn’t just have guests finding the mad galvanist living downstairs after all!) Originally it had been part of the basement, but after the Frankensteins had joined the Society and that whole fiasco had blown over about two months ago, it had been renovated into a proper room despite how Mosley (quietly) protested.

    The stairs creaked as Ito trotted down through the secret passage, she could hear conversation from down the brick hallway and see lamplight. Pushing open the door at the bottom revealed the “Mad Galvanist” and her creation, sitting on the floor, playing chess it appeared. They both looked up at her entry and Victoria grinned, “Why! Frau Ito! Welcome to our  humble abode. Did the doctor send you or have you come to join us for tea?”

    “Neither, actually,” she answered, looking around. “I, I’m here about a project we’re trying to start, Jekyll must not know.”

    Frankenstein’s face went white, “I thought I made it clear I was not-”

    “We won’t be graverobbing, and we only want to know how you gave life.”

    “That’s only the most dangerous part, you know,” Creature said, having not looked up from the chess board. He slid a piece forward, “Check.”

    “Yes well, we want to save Edward.”

    There was a clatter as Victoria dropped the piece she’d been carrying, “What? I thought he was dead!”

    “I thought he was part of Jekyll,” Creature added, looking up, seemingly intrigued now. Ito folded her hands nervously, “Well, Maijabi says he has a way to separate their uh, souls. We need a vessel though, and even if we can make one, none of us know how to bring it to life. We, need your help.”

    Frankenstein scowled, but she looked conflicted, the familiar spark of scientific wonder burning in her mind, battling against the memories of what had happened the last time she’d given life. Before she could say anything, however, Creature gently picked her up onto her feet by the back of her coat, “Go on, you have been complaining about how dreadfully boring it is to play chess with me. It’d do you well to get out of this room.”

    Victoria glared at her creation, sighed dramatically, and nodded to Ito. “I must confess, I’m thoroughly intrigued. I assume there are-”

    “Multiple others. We’re still, planning, but with all of us it won’t take as long as yours did. We, we just need you to bring it to life, can you do that?”

    “Can I do that? Pah.” She grinned, “I’ve been wanting to for years.”

~

    And the plan was set.

    With impossible alchemy, innovated on the spot with stolen materials, a combination of Jekyll’s potion and Sinnett’s phlogiston, they began to shape a human body. It helped that they had the science to resurrect it, meaning all they had to worry about was keeping what they created from decomposing. A much easier feat with Frankenstein around.

    Soon, the word of the plan began to slip out, more and more of the Lodgers found out what was going on and wanted in. They swore to secrecy, not a word of this was to reach Jekyll or Lanyon, for the project would surely be ground to a stop. Those who could not contribute helped keep the gentlemen distracted, kept it secret.

    It took about two months before the body was complete. Multiple times Victoria expressed their excitement at how quickly it was coming together, how fascinating it was to watch and take part of. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, there were scars in odd places, metallic bolts in the wrists, it was taller than Hyde had been by a few inches, the face looked too much like Henry’s, the barely too dark hair fell out if you pulled too hard, but Victoria assured much of this would look better once the body was animated.

    Soon, very soon.

    But how to get Jekyll in on it? There was no way he’d cooperate willingly, they could only pray he’d understand when they were finished.

    Rachel was easy enough to bribe, she was the last to be brought in on the plan. At first she’d been horrified, as one would expect upon finding a manufactured body of your good friend who had begged for his life the last time you’d, seen him. But once she learned what they were going to do, she was more than happy to help.

All she had to do was slip a special kind of venom from Cantilupe into his tea and wait for it to take effect. She brought him his tea that day at the same time, with the same smile. She hadn’t wholly forgiven him, anyone who knew Rachel Pidgley knew she could hold a grudge till Judgement Day, and though she really did understand why he’d done it, it still bloody hurt that her friend had to fight his way back to reality just to say goodbye.

    And he’d been so scared....

    She shook it off and pushed open his door, “Morning Henry.”

    “Good morning Rachel,” he said lightheartedly, sorting through papers. A small machine was playing music nearby, it never seemed to stop playing music these days. He’d never admit it but, Jekyll could not stand the silence in his own mind anymore.

    She set the tea tray, pouring a cup, watching the slightly more blue than usual tea swirl in the glass as she handed it to Jekyll. “You know they’re planning something, right?”

    “The Lodgers?” he asked, taking the cup and looking at her. “I did have my suspicions, but the holidays are close, I assumed it was something related to that.” Rachel worried at the inside of her cheek as he took a slow sip of the tea.

    “Yes well, it’s certainly big, I know that much,” she said in an animated fashion, trying to distract him from the odd taste. He noticed anyway, “A new kind of tea?”

    “I’m experimenting with a new blend.”

    He yawned deeply and looked perplexed, “What, what is it?”

    “Chamomile-” she paused, watching the color drain from his face as realization sank in, “And sleeping newt venom. Henry I’m so sorry.”

    “Rachel, what’ve you done?” he asked in a shaking voice, the teacup slipping from his hand as his vision began to swim.

    “Made it so you’ll get enough sleep, for once.” His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forward, breathing steady. “And you can’t be awake for this. I GOT HIM!”

    Archer and Griffin looked into the room, shared a glance, then hurried over. It took all three of them to move him back from the desk and lift him without knocking him into anything. Rachel held him under the arms and his head while the boys carried him by the feet, they had to keep him asleep as long as possible so he didn’t hurt himself during Maijabi’s, er, ritual. Then again, they were also going to tie him to a chair, but still.

    If he stayed asleep, it would be painless.

    Maijabi’s lab, normally chaotic and full of gently, ghostly light, was bright this time from the myriad of candles and lamps that the Lodgers had brought. The body they’d constructed lay under a sheet to one side, two tall metallic towers on either side of it, humming softly with electricity as Tweedy adjusted the settings according to Frankenstein’s instructions. A heavy chair was set up in the center of the room, belts attached with makeshift latches at the wrists and ankles, meant to hold someone down. Maijabi was working with a number of odd white crystals, placing them at measured intervals around the chair, tracing a circle with some sort of powdery ash.

Most of the floating furniture was currently being held down by the many Lodgers assembled, sitting on the tables and normally floating chairs, watching with earnest.

To say they were curious was an understatement.

    If they pulled this off, it’d mean that souls were tangible items that could be altered, it would mean they could be moved between bodies, it would mean someone could be saved from death.

    When the trio came in, carrying Jekyll’s unconscious body between them, the mild chatter went silent as the grave. Maijabi motioned them over and they placed the doctor gently into the  chair. Griffin knelt and began to fasten the belts, and though there had been some argument to the morality of strapping Jekyll down, the reasoning had been to prevent him from hurting himself or someone else if things went wrong.

    Rachel placed a gentle hand on Henry’s cheek, “I’m so sorry. But, he didn’t deserve that.” And she backed out of the circle and to the edge of the room, arms folded in worry, chewing again at the inside of her cheek. Jasper appeared at her side, gently putting a hand on her shoulder, “You okay?”

    “I’m scared,” she admitted, watching as Maijabi began to place the crystals. Ito stepped forward, carefully over the lines drawn in ash, pulling a syringe of green fluid from one of her many pockets.

    “Scared? Edward might be coming back, isn’t that a good thing?” When Rachel didn’t answer, Jasper pouted a little, his big eyes imploring her to answer. Damn how was he still such a puppy when he was human!

    “We’re taking apart Henry’s soul, Jasper,” Rachel finally confessed, “I’m worried something worse might happen. That we might kill them both, and if he does survive, is he going to hate us for this?”

    “I doubt he could really hate all of us, after everything we’ve done,” Jasper said, putting a comforting arm around her. “I, he’ll understand. It’ll, be good for him, probably.”

    “We’ll have to see.”

    Maijabi placed the last large crystal and pulled one of his angular bottles from a pocket. He motioned to Ito and she stepped up beside Jekyll, tapping the green syringe to remove the bubbles from within. The tip of the needle went into the skin just below Jekyll’s jaw and he shifted slightly in sleep. There was a pained look on Ito’s face as she injected the substance and pulled out the needle, darting out of the circle before anything began.

    A tense moment passed, everyone watched with intrigue and a bit of fear as the moments ticked by. They’re read the notes, the plan, they knew what was going to happen, but witnessing it was something entirely.

    After the long moment, Jekyll’s eyes snapped open, wide awake and he groaned in pain, doubling over in the chair. No doubt he’d seen them, because he wheezed: “Why, why’re you doing this?”

    “It wasn’t your sacrifice to make,” Rachel said softly, when no one else answered. She had to look away as Henry cried out again, straining against the belts, glowing goop beginning to drip from the corners of his eyes and mouth. The crystals surrounding the chair began to glow green, growing intensity until SCHWOOP.

It was, rather comical actually, how the small green fireball shot from Jekyll’s chest and into the bottle Maijabi was holding, more like a sneeze than a splitting of souls. There were a few snorts of laughter, a small cheer, and Maijabi placed a cork in the bottle. He shook it gently, watching the tiny flame flare a little, “Hello there Edward.”

There was a heavy cough, “Wh, what did you, what did you do?” The focus returned to Jekyll, who forced himself to sit upright in his bindings, the glowing goop still dripping from his mouth, eyes, and nose, but he didn’t look in pain any longer. And he still looked like himself, which seemed to perplex him.

The room began to fill with curious and excited chatter, Maijabi stepped forward and untied the belts that had been holding Jekyll down. With his hands freed, he pulled a kerchief from his pocket and tried in vain to clean his face, leaving odd, glowing green smears. “I’ll ask again, what did you do?”

“Pulled our friend out,” Maijabi answered, standing and folding his hands behind his back, the bottle containing Hyde’s spark hung on his belt. Jekyll dabbed at his nose, eyes drifting to the glowing green fire, “You, you what??

“Got Hyde out of you.”

Jekyll blinked, and looked down at himself. They couldn’t see it, but he was looking into his mind, searching that place he knew Hyde had been and found, nothing. When he looked up again to speak, Maijabi had moved over to the table and pulled back the sheet from the head of the creation.

Again, Jekyll’s face went white and he stiffened, because the likeness was so, so close to his alter self. It sent a cold sensation of utter terror into his stomach, choked his voice and sent his mind reeling. It was, it was wrong.

And again the room went silent, this time with anticipation, the Lodgers watching with excitement and curiosity as Maijabi passed the small bottle with the soul shard to Frankenstein. She nodded to Tweedy, who grabbed a large lever on the electrifying machines and waited.

The cork was removed, and the contents of the bottle tipped into the mouth of the body created. The flame darted within, like a man seeking shelter from a storm, a slight green glow emanated from the chest for a brief moment and Victoria called: “NOW!”

Tweedy slammed the switch down and electricity surged into the form, making the back arch and limbs spasm. A choked scream came from the throat and there was a flash of green, the same goop that had come from Jekyll’s eyes began to bubble from the body’s. Multiple people in the room gasped in horror, some had to look away, and Frankenstein grinned in an almost maniacal manner. They made a sharp motion and Tweedy cut the power, the body went limp on the table, eyes shutting again. Head falling limp onto the table.

Drip, drip, drip.

A small puddle of that strange glowing slime was forming beneath the head. Frankenstein approached the table hesitantly, reaching under the blanket to where the heart was to be, searching for some sign of a pulse. The Lodgers watched with bated breath, Jekyll’s eyes were wide with horror and Rachel had her mouth covered.

Frankenstein smiled proudly, “It’s alive. The heart is beating, he’s breathing, but we can’t know if it’s Hyde quite yet.”

“Wake him up!” someone said, sounding excited. Other voices joined the chorus, and though Ito loudly said there wasn’t a simple chemical way to just “wake him up”, the body shifted.

It groaned in pain, head rolling side to side as the room went silent again. Despite herself, Rachel ran to the side of the table, taking one of the hands from under the blanket. “Edward??? Are you there?? Can you hear me??”

The head shifted again and slowly, the eyes fluttered opened.

Revealing a beautiful, brilliant green.

“R, Rachel?” he rasped, squinting. “What, what’s going on? I feel, like I was hit by lightning.”

Rachel broke into a teary smile and lifted Hyde into a hug, clinging to him as the Lodgers erupted into cheering. Hyde was slow to react, but realization dawned on his waking mind and he returned Rachel’s embrace, laughing weakly.

Frankenstein and Tweedy shared a handshake and then an embrace, other Lodgers ran to the table, each trying to see if Hyde recognized them. And slowly, he began to, a wide happy smile on his tired face, leaning in Rachel’s arms for he didn’t have the strength to sit up on his own quite yet. This body was thin, weak, it didn’t have his mane of hair or quite the same sized shoulders, but for once in what felt like an eternity, he felt like himself.

It felt solid, real in a way his shared body never had, his mind felt quiet but whole, and it felt good.

Well, despite the tingling and lingering pain of electricity within his limbs and the odd numbness in his skin.

Behind all of it, Jekyll was frozen in his chair, mind reeling for an explanation, they’d done it. Together, they’d really done it. What he’d tried to do, separating the good and evil from man, and they’d just pulled it out of him and stuck it in a new body, just like that! The horror of the fact they’d built a body was smothered under the terror of Edward Hyde existing on the same material plane as him, what was he going to do? Would he murder Henry in vengeance?

Between the bodies of the Lodgers, his eyes locked onto Hyde’s.

The look in them went from tired joy, to complete loathing in less than a second, a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Jekyll stood on shaking legs, staggered back from the chair, turned, and ran in fear.

    He didn’t stop running until he was in a far corner of the Society, some shadowy place where no one would look for him, back pressed against the wall and sweat beading his forehead. Hyde was going to kill him, or if Hyde didn’t kill him he was going to make Jekyll’s life a living hell.

    It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it, he’d put Hyde literally through sensory deprivation hell. God, imagining going through that, watching the world be stripped of your presence without your influence, it was terrifying.

    Terrifying enough to warrant vengeance.

    Henry sank against the wall, sitting in the corner, hands covering his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. Tears of terror bubbled in his eyes and he curled in on himself.

    There was no keeping the secret now, he was doomed.

Notes:

Thanks to a dear friend of mine, I've figured out how to end this fic.

Chapter 6: Judgement

Chapter Text

    Edward was wearing a warm, fluffy blanket and was sitting on a small bed in one of the few open rooms in the Society, a lazy, sleepy smile on his face. He wasn’t fading, he wasn’t dreaming, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t Henry, he was real . He had a body, a heart, a chest and a-

    He giggled at that thought, no more worrying about Henry getting embarrassed in the background during his escapades. Of course, that also meant no Henry telling him what to do which was a double edged sword, not having to worry about upholding the facade, but also the new worry of being the forgetful arse he was. (How could he seriously not figure that a flamethrower had fire in it??)

    Well, he wasn’t that forgetful, just scatterbrained. Everything was so interesting all the time, there was always something to look at and see and hear and taste, how could people stay focused on one thing? Even here right now his mind was racing in spirals through the mental plane on some hidden energy.

    Maybe it was the electricity they’d used to bring him to life, it’d left a buzz in his limbs on his tongue, not bad but certainly present. There were two bandages on his wrists now, where they’d taken out the bolts, and the spots were very sore. He couldn’t move his hand quite right because of the pain, they’d taken the bolts out before his skin came back to life when he’d woken up, so it hadn’t hurt as bad. Then Ito had given him something for pain and Rachel had taken him to bed.

    He’d come to life gradually, his mind having come first, then his voice and face. Arms and torso followed shortly, then legs and hands, all tingling vibrantly and making him twitch as he tried to get the pins and needles to stop. Wide spots of his skin were still tingly and numb, but he hadn’t mentioned it, he was too tired.

    It was midafternoon, he was still naked, and he’d spent the last hour or so poking his new form, exploring the small scars, the curves and contours of a body he knew his friends had painstakingly crafted for him. They’d taken such care to try and make it close, had they studied Henry’s form to craft it?

    Henry… Just thinking that name dragged horrid memories to the surface of darkness, not like a lack of light, but a lack sense. Blindness, but not because his eyes weren’t working, but because there was nothing to see, deafness from a void of sound, ice and numbness from there simply being nothing to touch. He’d been floating in a void, no sense except the clawing dreading fear of being forgotten and lost forever.

    Edward rolled, flopping onto the creaky bed, staring at the tea cup and bread Rachel had left on the bedside table, at the clothing sitting folded on the rickety wooden chair, at the open window through which golden sunlight was beaming, where cold wind was drifting in. That void, that was gone now, he was here and he was real.

    He pulled out his hand and stared at it, at the branching burns that stretched up his hand and down his forearm on both sides of the bandage. Tweedy had scars like these, from the time he was hit by lightning, Edward had been struck by lightning now too hadn’t?

    God damn was he sleepy.

    He ought to put some pants on, shouldn’t he? In case the blanket slipped away and someone came to check on him. For their sake.

    With a yawn and a groan, he dragged himself to a sitting position, clumsily reaching to take the trousers from the small pile of clothes. They were cold to the touch, uncomfortable, but under the blanket was warm. He fumbled, slipping the pants on but leaving them unbuttoned before curling up under the fluffy quilt again.

    The ambient buzz of the building around him, the distant voices of the Lodgers, all of it was so comforting.

He allowed his eyes to drift closed.

~

    “No, Henry, he could stay! We could hide him here!” Rachel was saying, gesturing wildly, still buzzing with excitement.

    Jekyll, on the other hand, looked both annoyed and sickly, pale, a half finished wine bottle on his desk as he reclined in the chair, glass in hand. “Rachel, you and I both know how much trouble he was when he was part of me, just because we’re separated doesn’t mean he’s spared.” He didn’t want to listen to her, he didn’t want to listen to any of them, not after they’d done that to him.

    “Yeah sure but think of how many people here are more or less hiding from the law of other countries?!” she exclaimed, “It’s not out of the question!”

    “Robert is going to kill me,” Jekyll sighed, trying to drown her out. “And then he’s going to kill Hyde.”

    “You can fix this though! Now that he really exists-”

    “Rachel I don’t want him to exist,” he snapped, standing suddenly, planting his hands on the table, furious. “He is the culmination of my darkest secrets and I’m almost certain he wants to murder me. You’ve all put the Society in danger by bringing him to life!”

    “You didn’t have the choice whether or not he deserved to die! Which, he didn’t!” snapped Rachel, leaning in closer. “We were saving our friend and finishing your bloody experiment! I thought you’d be happy to have the duality of man truly separated!”

    “There is no duality! No one man is perfectly good or perfectly evil, my experiment-”

    “Then Hyde isn’t evil! And he deserves life!”

    “He was a collection of hallucinatory chemicals in a broken mind, Miss Pidgley.”

    “That had a soul Doctor Jekyll.”

    “Both of you stop it!” They froze, turning to see Jasper where he sat on a settee, notebook in hand. He dropped it and stood, “Here, I’ll sum it up for both of you, Henry doesn’t like Edward, who exists now, and because he properly exists we can clear his name, which again Henry doesn’t want because now his anxieties personified is a real person and visible threat.”

Jasper paused for air, “And, whether or not this experiment completed Jekyll’s study it doesn’t matter because now Maijabi, Ito, Pennebrygg, and Tweedy all had sig nificant breakthroughs today. Not only that but now Henry, you don’t ever have to take responsibility for Hyde’s bullshit ever again now can you two stop screaming in circles and get to the point?? Are you going to clear Hyde’s name or not?” His voice sounded like he was almost begging by the time he finished, out of breath, hands balled into fists at his sides.

Jekyll and Rachel both visible relaxed, looking sheepish at their immaturity. Jasper rubbed his eye, “Sorry it’s, I can’t imagine how stressful that was, Henry. We, we should’ve told you, it wasn’t fair to you, we should’ve asked.”

“It was, rather terrifying,” Henry admitted, running a hand through his hair. His hand then went to his chest and he rubbed it, “Feels like something is missing now, but it’s felt that way since I…” He sighed, “Since I messed everything up. I deserved it, frankly.”

“You didn’t think he was a real person, it’s easy to do bad things when someone isn’t human,” Jasper said, folding his arms and tracing a hand over his forearm, where his old werewolf bite was.

“Which was rather rude of you,” Rachel said, planting her hands on her hips and looking at Henry. “It should’ve been a sign he was another person how no one even had a clue that you were the same person.”

“I suppose.” The doctor folded his arms and looked to the mirror, staring at his reflection. “You’ve all forced me to regret what I did, realize how cruel it was. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Well, it shows you’re human, and that you’re willing to learn,” Jasper offered, walking over to place a hand on Jekyll’s shoulder. Henry shoved the hand off, “No, don’t. Don’t touch me. Please.”

Jasper looked wounded, moving the hand to hold his upper arm. “Who, who knows though? You two might be able to become-”

A blood curdling scream tore through the building from nearby.

    It wasn’t the shriek of someone being surprised in an accident, it wasn’t delight, it was pure unbridled terror. Without thinking, Rachel, Jasper, and Henry sprang into action, running for the door and towards the sound, fearing the worst.

Rachel knew that the door they ran to was the room she’d carried Edward to, and the frantic noises coming from the other side struck fear into her heart as she threw open the door.

    Hyde had fallen out of bed, the bandages from one of his hands had been ripped away and cast aside, allowing the wounds there to bleed freely. His hand was soaked in his own blood, staining the quilt draped around him. Long red scratch marks crossed over the electric burns up his arm, some of them had tiny lines of broken skin from where he’d scratched too hard. He was wheezing in a panicked manner, hands buried in what fluffy hair he had, folded into a ball.

    The sight left Rachel frozen, internally panicking, trying to figure out what to do to help her friend, and to her surprise, Jekyll slowly moved forward. She started to follow, to stop him from getting close, but Jasper caught her shoulder. In a whisper he said: “He needs to do this, trust me.”

    Henry knelt before the form of his alter self, brow furrowed in concern. So similar, so eerily similar, but distinctly different.

    Gently, he took Edward’s injured hand, picking up the discarded bandage and gauze. Hyde tried to pull away, but Jekyll’s grip was just strong enough to hold him until the bandage was in place, tied once more, soaked with fresh blood.

    “You shouldn’t scratch,” he said softly, pulling out a kerchief and dabbing up the blood from the small scratches. Hyde’s whole body stiffened and his eyes, slightly teary on his pale face, narrowed to a glare. “Get away from me.”

    “I’ll tell Ito to prepare a Flesh Weaver salve, these won’t heal with just gauze,” Jekyll continued, pocketing the kerchief and standing.

Edward pulled the blanket tighter around himself, hiding his arm, eyes locked on Henry. “I don’t want your help.”

“I can’t have you dying before your name is cleared,” Jekyll said icily, turning and walking out of the small room. He stepped around the shocked Rachel and Jasper, then over the frantic Zosi who’d come skidding around the corner.

The church grim froze, looking between Henry and Edward before letting out a happy whimper and running into Hyde’s lap. Hyde didn’t notice he was being licked at first, as he’d been staring after Jekyll with a confused and conflicted expression, but when the puppy’s tongue brushed his nose he broke into a giggle. “Hey, hey Zosi. Yeah it’s me, it’s me.”

~

    “Ito, are you in here?” Jekyll called, pushing open the door of the chemistry lab.

    “Over here!” she called, looking up over the top of a test tube rack. She straightened upon seeing her mentor, “Listen, Henry, about earlier, I didn’t use the same HJ7 formula you crafted, just something designed to bring Hyde’s mentality forward a little bit, expose him and I made sure it wasn’t going to ki-”

    “That’s not what I’m here about,” he said sharply, waving a hand dismissively. He strode over to a shelf of books on one side of the cluttered but organized lab, pulling free an old and familiar tome. “You remember the potion I taught you, your first lesson, correct?”

    “I do, I’ve had to patch multiple wounds with it since then,” she deadpanned, folding her arms and shrugging. “Why?”

    “We must make some again, to patch Edward’s wounds, the bolts,” Jekyll answered, walking over, opening the book. He didn’t notice Ito’s surprised look, “Why, Doctor Jekyll, you’d think you almost cared about Hyde’s well being.”

    He looked up at her, expression unreadable and dark, and did not answer. Whatever mask he wore, it concealed well. But Ito knew him well enough, he felt guilty. He also felt, scared? All of this, it was his fault, he felt he owed Hyde something, despite how it had been the Lodgers who’d brought him back. He owed Edward for the trauma that surely remained from ceasing to exist, and his way of repaying people was doing things to help them, whether they wanted it or not.

    A healing salve was something, at least.

    Or was it, he was trying to defend himself? Did he fear the Lodgers would do something else to him if he didn’t help Hyde? Did he think they’d let Hyde do something to him? They’d only wanted to save both of their friends, and they’d done it, what else was there to do?

    Ito silently helped him make it, gathering supplies and playing the role of the student. There was a certain stiffness in his actions, as there is when one is only going through the motions, measuring chemicals, turning herbs to powder, lighting a bunsen burner and watching the potion bubble, all of it was mechanical, like an automaton. And he kept his distance from Ito too, not an “I’m ignoring you” distance but “don’t get close to me” distance.

    As he poured the flesh weaver into a bowl to carry off, she caught his shoulder. “Henry, what we did was for you as well. You were falling apart and, we thought having his death on your consciousness was what was hurting you. We, kind of went overboard, I’ll admit, but we really wanted to-” he shoved her hand off forcefully and turned sharply.

    “You all did something fantastic,” Jekyll said, his expression twisted into anger. “You did something amazing, because I did something terrible, and that is what weighs on me. But you also did something to me, without my consent, forgive me if I’m a little on edge.”

    And he turned, and left.

    The walk to Hyde’s room was silent, Henry focused on keeping his hands steady. They’d been shaking on and off all day since that bloody ritual, or whatever it was, that had shaken him to his core. He couldn’t ask for Hyde’s forgiveness, though his heart desperately sought it. And why? To prove, for some reason, that he’d done the right thing?

    That he wasn’t an evil person? That he even deserved forgiveness?

    And God they’d done this to him, had they even considered that taking his soul apart might kill him? Surely they must have, they’d been planning this for near on two months apparently. What else did they have planned?

    Someone called for him in passing, he didn’t hear it, and if he did, he didn’t respond.

    There were more voices beyond the door when he returned to the room, and there was laughter. He heard Hyde chattering away, like he usually did, he heard Jasper laughing and Rachel giggling, Luckett was trading quips with Hyde and Frankenstein, oh, of course she would come to check out her most recent creation. He couldn’t go in, he wasn’t wanted right now.

    So, he knocked.

    The conversation faltered a moment, but someone came to answer. Jasper pulled open the door, “Oh! You’re b-”

    “Do you know how to apply a healing potion?” Jekyll demanded, voice sharp. Jasper frowned, “Yes? Why?”

    He pushed the bowl into Jasper’s hands, “For Hyde’s bolts. Tell him to change the bandages in four hours. I must go.”

    “Wait! You should stay, try to talk to him,” Jasper called, stepping out of the room, closing the door behind.

    “I don’t want to speak with him.

    Jasper pouted, “Fine! But you can’t avoid him forever Henry!”

    Jekyll scowled to himself, folding his arms as he walked. In a soft voice he said: “I can damn well try.”

Chapter 7: Evidence

Chapter Text

“So, Robert, you know how the Lodgers had that secret project for these past few months?”

    “Yes I do. I remember having to answer some, odd questions during that time.” Lanyon reclined back in his chair, holding an elegant glass in one hand, swirling the wine in thought. Jekyll sat opposite him at the table, hands folded under his chin, half eaten meal cooling before him.

    He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well uh, Frankenstein was involved.”

    “God she didn’t make another one of those Creatures did she?”

    “She uh, she did.”

    Lanyon felt his heart stop in sudden fear, but he didn’t let that show on his face. “Good lord! Tell me you stopped she.”

    “I, couldn’t, they drugged me.” Henry’s tone was sharp, the word biting a bit as they left his mouth. He was bitter about it, that much was clear.

    Lanyon let out a strained laugh and tried to be optimistic, “Well! At least at the Society it can be taught to be civilized.”

    “Robert they, the Lodgers, gave it Hyde’s soul. It’s Hyde. They brought him back.”

    Lanyon choked on his drink and doubled over coughing, red splattering the tablecloth between him and Henry as he tried to breathe. They’d spoken little of Hyde after the day when Jekyll had confessed, after the arguments that’d followed and the eventual rekindling of their friendship. It, hadn’t been easy, but they’d agreed not to speak of the, missing, blonde individual.

When he’d finally caught his breath, Robert dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, slowly regaining his composure as he sat a bit straighter, looked Henry dead in the eye and said: “How the actual hell did they do that?”

    Jekyll shrugged stiffly, stirring a spoon through his soup in thought, practically stabbing a piece of meat, “Something to do with the fact I split my soul into pieces, they were able to abstract the part that was him and put it into a body that Frankenstein showed them how to bring to life. And now he’s alive, walking around with us.”

    “They went graverobbing?” The thought was horrifying, not just of having Hyde among the living, but of a second being made of stitched together body parts. That with the idea of any of the Lodgers getting arrested again and this time for a much more heinous crime was enough to give Robert a heart attack from stress.

    “No, that’s the incredible part. Apparently they were able to synthesize a body with that, flesh weaver potion or something,” Henry answered, trailing off to a mumble. Robert stared at him, wine forgotten, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

    “By God I wish I was, but Hyde is fucking alive, and independent.”

    Henry took a slow drink of his wine in hopes to smother his anger, which threatened to bubble over without Hyde to temper it, watching the news process on Robert’s face. To his surprise, Robert grinned, “This is great! We can turn him in and get Scotland Yard off of our back!”

    “What??” Why was he so concerned by that idea? Hell, even insulted by it?

    Lanyon nodded eagerly, “Think about it, him being back is going to-”

    “Robert, I already put him through Hell, he would die in prison,” Jekyll deadpanned.

    “I thought you wanted him dead.”

    “When he wasn’t a person!” he exclaimed, gesturing suddenly and violently. “When he was a hallucination it was easy to want him dead because he wasn’t human! But now-” Jekyll sighed deeply and put his head in his hands, the bitter fading into guilt, “I can’t do that to him, to the Lodgers, not after everything they did to, did to me, to bring him back.”

    Robert thought about this, watching the candle on the table between them flicker. “Well, Henry, I’ve seen what he’s done to you. The way you feared your secret being revealed, the way you fear being abandoned, would it not be best for Hyde to leave?”

    “By leave you mean die properly, we’re not killing him.”

    “I never said kill! Merely, misplace. Send him to Bethlam for delusions perhaps, have him arrested for the fire, maybe-”

    “Robert enough.” Lanyon looked to his friend, eyes wide, not used to hearing such a serious tone from Jekyll. The doctor looked tired, his face drawn, shoulders pushed back and gaze steady and strong, “We’re not getting rid of him, Robert. But, I can’t do this, not alone. I need your help.” He reached out and took Lanyon’s hand, his grip was shaky, “Please, I’ve done so many horrible things to him at this point, I can’t do that to him. He doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve that. Not after everything.”

    Lanyon’s expression softened and he cupped Jekyll’s hand in his, “Henry, you know I want to help you, I really do. But there’s not much we can to except turn him in once he’s well.”

    “I suppose.” Suddenly, Jekyll’s eyes lit up, “That’s it!”

    “Pardon?”

    “His condition! He’s ill, injured, starved and his hands are covered with bizarre scars, we could come up with a story that he was taken, kidnapped! After the fire!” Henry exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his free hand, excited but not smiling.

Robert considered this, pursing his lips a bit in thought. “I’m not sure Henry, knowing Brokenshire, he’ll likely demand jail time once Hyde is well.”

“What if we exchanged for him to stay at the Society under house arrest? We’re well funded now, it’s not like we lack the money to-”

“You want to pay them, to have Hyde be at the Society, at all times, for a few years. That’s what you’re telling me, you know.”

Jekyll paused, turning the reality over in his mind before nodding resolutely. It was, a cold sort of decision, a we-have-no-other-choice decision. “Yes. I would prefer that over the thought of him rotting in a jail cell because of me, as if I didn’t already trap him in a mirror and try to leave him there.”

There was a long moment of silence, Jekyll pulled his hand back and leaned against his chair, arms folded and eyes downcast. “Robert? Am, am I a bad person? Did, do I deserve this?”

Lanyon stared at him, and seemed to consider it. The anger that had been there a moment before, that had been burning, faded now. Jekyll just looked tired.

Robert took a deep breath, folded his hands on the table before him, and said: “Well, you did try to murder your alter ego, who at this point we’ve concluded is in fact a separate person. And, even though I don’t like Hyde, I agree that he didn’t deserve what happened to him. Even so, you’ve taken in multiple Rogue Scientists who would’ve been locked in prison or an asylum for the rest of their lives, you’ve funded houses to be rebuilt and repaired, and you’ve been a good friend. Loyal, mostly trustworthy, respectful, honorable. Finding out you lied to my face for two years straight was, well, rather insulting but I understand why, doesn’t mean it was right. And you did sort of create Hyde in the first place from yourself and that’s a whole other mess we already argued.”

He met Jekyll’s eye finally and shrugged, “I, can’t say. You’re not, good or bad you’re just, Henry.”

Henry sighed and looked away, “Maybe, maybe I’ve still got a chance to make things better then. I will write to Brokenshire, we’ll settle this.”

“Henry, you’ve said so yourself Hyde is nothing but trouble, is he worth-”

“He doesn’t deserve to die, not because of me, because of what I’ve done. Robert, I’m going to fix this, will you help me or not?”

The words hung in the air, suspended and fading. Lanyon fumbled for an answer, he’d already done so much to help Henry, to help Hyde , did he owe them more? Well, of course he did, they were his friends, well, Henry was.

But he had a point, Hyde did not deserve to die.

“I, yes. I’ll help you.” Robert reached out and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder, “Only because I can see how much this pains you.”

“That’s all I need,” he answered softly, smiling for the first time all evening.

There was another moment of silence.

“Wait if Hyde looks like the Creature then-”

“He doesn’t look like Creature, he looks like he used to.”

“Oh, well that makes things easy.”

~

    Brokenshire frowned heavily, he seemed puzzled.

    Hyde, although nervous due to his proximity to Jekyll, held himself with some dignity, wearing his raggedy cape once more. Everything he wore felt loose, he now had a much thinner body than before, and perhaps that’s what had the sergeant puzzled. His pants and shirt sleeves were too short though, and that was irritating, made everything just a little too cold.

Maybe Brokenshire had finally realized he’d never seen Jekyll and Hyde in the same place together. That had been the reaction from at least three people, including Hyde’s rude landlady and Poole, Jekyll’s servant.

    Or maybe he was detecting all the lies Jekyll was trying to pass for truth. The story was, rather ridiculous, Edward was a little proud Henry had even managed to construct such an intricate story without his help, but he was also getting increasingly annoyed and bitter with how pathetic he was presented as.

    Lanyon had given him three instructions for this little interview, as Jekyll had outright refused to speak with him. And that was just fine! Hyde may have disliked Robert before but if he got within arms’ reach of Jekyll he was going to break that still-taller prick’s nose. Lanyon was even starting to grow on him now, maybe it was because he finally was treated with a bit of respect, but even that was from the fact Hyde had almost been murdered.

    The rules were as follows: Don’t talk, and if you do have to speak act sick, act like you’re not all there.

    Easy enough, Brokenshire was boring to listen to, all this bureaucratic nonsense about bail money and house arrest and- wait house arrest?

    Hyde finally decided to tune in., having spent the better part of half an hour staring at a stain on the wall. He knew the story that they were going with forwards and backwards, he’d been kidnapped by some drug smuggling ring after trying to escape London after the fire. They had heard he was the one to blame for one of their loads getting burned to a crisp and decided he had to pay for it. The last four months were foggy because they’d drugged him and tortured him for however long, he’d blotted it out of his memory because of said trauma.

    God he wished he could actually wipe his memory.

    “House arrest should do just fine, I’ll be able to keep a close eye on his recovery both mentally and physically, and no doubt the Lodgers will be glad to have their friend somewhere safe,” Henry was saying in that irritably perfect voice of his.

    “And you’re certain you can pay for his bail? And that you can keep him in his apartment for the next six months?”

    Edward nearly swore aloud, but he was wise enough to bite his tongue before cursing Jekyll out in front of both Lanyon and Brokenshire. He was supposed to be the spaced out broken man, he had to keep up the act until they were certain he wasn’t getting jail time.

    Six months though??? In his tiny Soho apartment? No way!

    “Sir, can, can I stay at the Society?” he asked, feigning illness and weakness with a soft, shaken voice, looking to Henry with wide, begging eyes. Those big green eyes of him had gotten him out of trouble before, could they help now? “I’m, I’m not sure I could, could keep it together, not there, not in Soho.”

    “There are plenty of rooms at the Society, and plenty of people to keep an eye on him,” Lanyon added, placing a gentle hand on Hyde’s shoulder, as if to steady him. What a perfect actor, it was almost as if he cared.

    For effect, Hyde leaned into Robert, as if seeking stability, looking imploringly to Jekyll and Brokenshire. Lanyon put a comforting arm around his shoulder and Hyde wanted to laugh in Jekyll’s face, he knew that there was envy in his heart. Oh how he wanted to be held by dear Robert, to be comforted and even, dare he say it, kissed?

    Hyde knew, he knew well, and he knew how much these small acts of comfort from Lanyon spited Jekyll.

It finally seemed that the Sergeant realized just how much of a strain Hyde’s “ordeal” had taken on him, and Jekyll just looked mildly alarmed. Brokenshire sighed and looked to Henry, “And you’re certain you can control him?”

    “Considering his current state, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Henry answered in a cool tone, putting up a smile again, but Edward could see the strain in his face and the anger in his eyes. Or rather, he knew it was there.

    Paperwork was signed and Hyde, playing up his role of the weak and traumatized victim, made Lanyon guide him out to where a carriage was waiting to take them back to the Society, clutching the edges of his cape like a protective blanket. They climbed in one by one and, the second the door was closed and the carriage had started rattling down the road, Henry exploded.

    “Hyde you had one job and that was to stay silent!” he snapped, glaring at the blonde man. Hyde pouted, “You really expected me to spend the next half a year in my tiny arse apartment? That place smells like bloody shite I’m not staying there! At least at the Society I’ll have company and I’ll be able to do whatever I want without worrying about gettin’ arrested!”

    “And you seem to think you can do whatever you want now that you’ve got a body of your own, you can’t! What you do reflects on me an’ on the Society and you could get us all into another fit of trouble if you aren’t careful!” Jekyll said, voice starting to raise to a shout.

    “And who’re you to boss me around? You en’t my fairy god mother anymore, I’m on my own!” Damn the accent, he was pissed!

    “And at the Society you think you’ll be able to sneak out whenever ye think you want!”

    “En I will!”

    “If you fekkin’ sneak out it’ll be right off to the bloody jail fer ye an’ I won’ be able to stop them from lockin’ ye up!”

    “Well I dannae even want yet help you bugger! Yer a prick en ye thought ye could jus’ throw me out!”

    “I could!”

    Robert watched the escalation with a look of utter shock as both of their regular accents slipped away, dissolving into Scottish swearing as they nearly started going for each other’s throats. He tried to keep up at first, looking from one to the other until they were just shouting. He tried to interject when he understood, but it was hard to get a word in edgewise over the Angry Scottish Hurricane before him.

Had this been what it was like inside Henry’s head? No wonder he’d seemed so stressed at times! He’d had a Scottish gremlin bugging him all the time!

    When Edward moved to stand Lanyon finally decided to intervene, putting himself between them with a shout of: “Enough!”

    Henry froze, shutting his mouth and looking away in embarrassment that he’d let himself slip so quickly. Edward bristled like a cat, his body language saying: how dare you interrupt me? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?

Robert held his gaze, looking between them, “You’re both acting like children! I get it, you hate each other, but Edward we just spent two hours trying to not send you to prison. And Henry, the Lodgers will all know to keep an eye on him, they can help. But both of you need to stop arguing before you kill each other! The last thing we need is murder charges or another disappearance, understand ?”

    He must’ve sounded like his father, or maybe their father, because both Jekyll and Hyde were staring at him in shock as he finished, sat up and adjusted his hat. “Now that you’ve both shouted yourselves hoarse, can you get along long enough to tell everyone the plan or-”

    “I’m going to bed when we get home,” Edward deadpanned, his dark expression making the shadows under his eyes look darker. It’d only been four days since his awakening, but clearly he hadn’t slept well. (Ito had said something about nightmares and him ending up in Rachel’s room, she’d been late with breakfast because he’d been sleeping on top of her.)

    “Fine, Henry will you at least-”

    “Yes yes of course.”

    “Then it’s settled. Now, can you two sit quietly or would one of you rather walk?”

    Both were silent, looking out separate windows, Edward pouting like a child and scratching at the burns on his forearms. Robert sighed and looked away, would this ever work out?

    Henry must’ve noticed Edward’s scratching, “Stop that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

    “Shut up.”

    “I’d rather not have people asking why I’ve-” he stopped, biting his tongue and looking outside. How could he have slipped like that? After everything, they weren’t the same anymore. How could he have forgotten that?

    The rest of the ride was dead, uncomfortably silent.

Chapter 8: Confessions

Chapter Text

    True to his word, Hyde retreated to his room once they’d reached the Society, shrugging off the Lodgers’ concern and curiosity. He appreciated that they cared so much, but it felt a bit like he was being babied. Sure he was emaciated, a newly animated body containing a fraction of a soul with bolt wounds in both wrists and lightning burns, but he could bloody handle himself! Well, mostly, he was still having trouble sleeping.

    He blamed it both on the fact he’d never slept before.

Well, one could argue being forced out of existence counted and that wasn’t even really sleep, and that he was now very much traumatized from said event. Not that he’d ever admit it, but being around Henry set his teeth on edge, made him want to scratch at his burns to make the numb and the tingling just stop.

Course he couldn’t do that, everything was covered with bandages now and that smelly healing salve stuff. (Flesh weaver? Was that what Jasper had called it?) The fresh bandages wrapped from his palms all the way up to his shoulders, they made it hard to move.

    Long story short he was tired, and Rachel was busy, that meant he had to sleep alone.

    Edward didn’t want to sleep alone, and he couldn’t even go out and find someone to sleep with, it was the middle of the bloody afternoon! Maybe if he curled up in the parlor where people always were it’d be close enough.

    Maybe, but first he had to go to his room.

    In four days, it had been changed from an empty closet of a bedroom to something almost cozy. Sinnett had offered the least singed desk from his lab, Flowers brought a pair of colorful curtains, the trinkets that had been set on the little memorial to Hyde now decorated his bedside table, and a small mirror sat atop the borrowed desk. But, it was face down, Hyde hadn’t wanted to see his reflection.

    Alone now, still turning over the last of the many arguments with Jekyll in recent hours, he picked up the mirror and leaned over it, peering at his reflection with a pout. The face was very close to his original, an impressive feat all things considered, but there was an undoubtedly ill color in the cheeks that Frankenstein had said would go away within a month or two. The shadows under his eyes looked darker than should’ve been natural, making his eyes appear sunken and tired, which he was. He tugged at his hair, too dark, and felt it sting in his scalp in a way that hurt but felt real, felt good.

    Hyde locked the door behind himself and began to undress, removing the shirt and vest Robert had stuffed him in, picking up the mirror again. Sure he’d poked and prodded himself that first day, but already it was fuzzy and hard to remember. That first twenty four hours had been a haze of, something, sleep and fear and every emotion more saturated than was probably healthy.

He needed to see what else was changed, properly.

    The mirror showed new scars, well, old scars on a new body. Incisions, thin and precise, below the ribs on his back and just above the base of his spine, a small one under the muscles over his heart, another at the top of his throat below his jaw. There were white seam line scars, almost, that ran around his joints and crossed his midsection, had he been sewn from corpses, there would be stitches there. Perhaps this was where he was sutured together, stitched into existence one piece at a time.

    Was it painful?

    Would it have been?

    It didn’t hurt now.

    A knock at the door made Edward practically leap out of his skin, heart thundering as he fumbled to not drop the mirror. It landed safely on his bed and he sighed, turning slowly to unlock the door and pull it open.

    Mrs. Cantilupe stood on the other side, a thin leather-bound book in hand, and when she saw Hyde completely shirtless, she did not react. “Afternoon Edward, how are you feeling dear?”

    “Somewhere between screaming and laughing, the usual,” he said, shrugging and nonchalantly folding his arms. “I was uh, actually about to try and get some rest.”

    “I would suggest sleeping in the parlor, in case those nightmares wake you again,” she offered in a kind, motherly tone with a knowing smile. “But, I also came to give you this.” And she held out the book.

    Edward frowned as he took it, flipping it open and staring at the blank pages. “A journal? What am I supposed to do with a journal?”

    “Well, the only difference between real science and tomfoolery is taking notes,” she explained with a chuckle. “I figured, for our, and your, experiment to be truly successful, it’d be best if you documented your, experiences. Of course, what and if you share is at your discretion, but I’ve always found journalling to be very therapeutic.”

    Edward laughed once in a sharp and sarcastic manner, and tried to had the book back, “Thanks but no thanks Cantaloupe, I’m doing just-” she closed his hands over the journal and pressed it into his chest. Hyde looked up at her, confused, and saw her normally chipper expression was somber.

“Hyde, dear, please, I know what trauma does to a man, to a woman,” she said, sounding more worried than he’d ever heard her before. “And, I know what happened is, wholly unique, and that you are alone in the ranks of man, the only Edward Hyde. I can’t imagine what’s been going through your mind dear, but you can’t let it remain there.”

Cantilupe pat the journal and smiled softly, “You must start somewhere, if you want to start over.”

Hyde just stared at her, watching as she turned and strode off as if nothing had happened. He slowly looked down at the notebook in hand before rolling his eyes and tossing it carelessly into the room behind him.

Ten minutes later, he picked it back up, unfolded the pages where they had bent in the fall, and began looking for a pen.

The first line he wrote read: I am not alright.

~

    “Henry, what was that?” asked Robert, looking away from the window to where his friend sat on the settee, notebook open in his lap.

    Jekyll was doodling aimlessly, unable to focus outside of his own running thoughts. Hyde had been a blessing with that, able to make it quieter under his own chatter, it felt like Jekyll’s mind was racing to fill that space. “Henry, I said, what was that?”

    “In the carriage?” he asked tiredly, looking up. “I, got angry, I slipped, I’m sorry.”

    “It’s more than that though, I’ve never seen you get that furious with anyone,” Robert said, leaning against the window sill, watching Jekyll. “I can only assume it’s something psychological, looking your inner demons in the eye and telling them what-for, you feel like you can talk to him because he already knows all your weaknesses and what not. But, why did you get so furious over something so small? He, regrettably, had a valid point. I mean, would you want to stay in that tiny apartment for a year?”

    “It’s only six months,” Jekyll mumbled, shutting his notebook sharply. “And, I told you, I slipped. It’s nothing to worry-”

    “Henry.” Robert walked over, setting his coat aside, sitting near Henry on the sette. “I thought you told me you weren’t going to lie to me anymore. What’s wrong? What’s eating you?”

    “You know what is, the guilt, the living reminder that I’m a murderer,” he answered, looking away.

    “Henry, the truth, now.”

    Jekyll visibly bit his lip, chewing in worry, hands fidgeting in his lap. Lanyon gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to be encouraging, he was patient and would wait for an answer. Henry stiffened, lowered his head, “I, I’m afraid.”

    “What of?”

    “That, that, that they all despise me? That if Hyde were to come try to kill me in vengeance no one would stop him? That, that I can’t trust any of them because I don’t know if they actually think of me with respect or-” his voice had been speeding up as he spoke, words tumbling out and getting higher pitched as panic set in. “Or if I’m just another tool or device or plan and I hate the idea that I need Hyde in my head to control myself because without him everything seems too damn quiet and I feel like my head’s about to explode!”

    Lanyon pulled him close when his panic ramblings caused his voice to crack and tears to bubble in his eyes. “They care about that blonde prick than me! I could’ve died and no one seems to care! Robert what would they have done if I’d just vanished?? Would they have still celebrated like they did? They were bloody celebrating!”

    “Henry I-”

    He buried his face in Robert’s shoulder and cried.

    Lanyon found himself frozen, utterly stunned at witnessing Henry’s facade so utterly crumble. Unsure how to comfort, he wrapped his arms around Jekyll and rubbed a gentle circle into his back, the way his mother had done for him many, many years ago. It seemed childish, but it seemed to calm the panicking doctor.

As the tears and panicked words came out, slowing to a trickle of frightened mumbles, the weight on Jekyll’s shoulders seemed to lift a little. When he finally returned to his senses, he was lying atop Robert on the settee, gripping his friend’s shirt like a lifeline.

    “Henry, you know they don’t hate you right?” Lanyon said, consolingly rubbing Jekyll’s shoulder still as he gathered his senses. “I, I don’t speak to them hardly at all, and even I can tell the Lodgers care a lot for you. Perhaps, perhaps they thought they were helping you by getting Hyde out.”

    “As if that justifies drugging me and performing an exorcism,” Henry grumbled softly, his rational mind telling him to sit up and leave Lanyon be, but his emotional mind telling him to remain, where he knew it was safe. He wiped at his eyes in frustration, “What, what if they do it again?”

    Robert looked at him skeptically, “You really think they’re going to do it again? It took two months to get to where they could do that once. They’ve no reason to do it again, let alone to you!”

    “You can’t tell me they don’t like Hyde more than me,” he said, as if still searching for some way to prove he was right.

Robert nodded his head side to side. “You’re right, I can’t, but if they really hated you, you think they’d have left, right? You’re not keeping them here, they can leave if they want, and if they really hated you that badly they could’ve easily killed you a thousand ways by now!” Lanyon frowned, “Bad example, but you get my point.”

    “And Hyde?” The words hung in the air, a question not only posed to Lanyon, but to the universe. Lanyon thought about it, remembering everything he’d seen and heard of the mysterious and not so terrifying Mr. Hyde.

    “Well, I don’t know about Hyde. But, I don’t think the Lodgers are going to hurt you Henry, they’re your friends, or they were, remember?” Jekyll nodded slightly and sighed, leaning in his friend’s arm, too tired and sad to move.

~

    “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, can’t imagine what going through that does to a bloke,” Archer said to himself, head resting on his chin, staring at a candle on the table before him. A clock was ticking in the quiet parlor, he sat alone at a desk, talking to thin air while the last of the evening’s fire burned away.

    A sigh, and he sat up, lacing his hands together and raising his arms over his head, listening to his spine crack as it straightened. Unfinished notes of the day scattered the table before him, projects nearly forgotten in the bustle of creating a body. He hadn’t really been able to contribute, he was no alchemist or biologist but he had helped in different ways, moral support and the like.

    Everyone had been worried, worried they’d get caught, that it wouldn’t work, that it wouldn’t work so catastrophically they’d wind up with two dead friends.

    Damn it had been stressful.

    But it was over now, Hyde was alive! And while everyone was happy they were also, worried again. Worried about him, this time, about his sanity and his health. Archer felt like they were overreacting a bit, Hyde was no child and didn’t need a whole building of parents looking after him. Just, maybe a few big brothers and sisters instead.

    Not to mention the toll it seemed to have taken on Jekyll. He looked at the Lodgers with distrust, visibly avoided any of those who’d been directly involved with the experiment, and Ito had even said he’d skipped their lesson the day previous. Was he afraid of them now?

    God, Archer hoped he wasn’t afraid of them.

    Regardless, too late at night to be worrying about such things.

    Archer stood from the desk, humming a soft tune as he gathered the papers. He allowed his goggles to fall from his forehead and hang round his neck as he picked up the messy stack, pocketing a pen and turning to go.

    Only to freeze upon seeing Hyde, who looked equally surprised, standing in the door of the parlor.

    “I, I was looking for Cantilupe,” he confessed, holding a book under one arm. Archer offered a shrug, “She went to bed about an hour ago, sorry.”

    Hyde huffed angrily, “Of course. Old woman was right and now I can’t even thank her.”

    Archer walked over and bumped Hyde’s shoulder, “You’ve, always got tomorrow you know.”

    How curious, the way that idea seemed to surprise Hyde. “You’re, absolutely right, I do, I do have tomorrow. Damn I have many tomorrows and all of them stuck here.

    “Here ain’t so bad, you’ve got us at least,” Archer said lightheartedly, turning to go. Something made him pause, and he turned back. “Say, I uh, heard you haven’t been sleeping well, I’ve got an herb that might help.”

    “Don’t need an herb,” Hyde snapped sharply, defensively. He folded his arms, “Don’t need nothin’, just, something to remind me I’m not dying I guess. Got something like that?”

    Archer considered it, “No. Unless you count myself. It’s probably a bit uh, what’s the word, uncouth? To suggest but, if you need to, you could stay with me tonight.” He blushed suddenly, “Like not in a sexual way of course, but knowing you and that’s probably not what you were doing with Rachel and you actually managed to get some sleep that way, but it is what you usually-”

    “No, actually.”

    “Pardon?”

    Hyde rolled his eyes, “I came to life four days ago. I’m still trying to figure out this whole, independent body thing, you really think I’m all about sex right now?”

    Archer laughed awkwardly, smile a little too wide and strained, “Right, right, sorry. Just, the Hyde I knew originally never stopped boasting about it.” He offered a more relaxed smirk, “Offer still stands, if you’re feeling lonely.”

    “I’m not lonely,” Hyde said defensively, puffing out his chest. Then he sighed, deflating a bit, “But, I could do without the nightmares. Thanks, I guess, for letting me stay?”

    “Meet me at my room, and don’t let this get out in rumors okay?”

    That made Hyde laugh, but he nodded, promising to keep quiet as Archer left.

    But his smile dropped when he was alone again, the silence in his mind and the room around just a little too loud. His own mind, in this empty room, felt too loud, too fast, annoying. With Archer around, well, and anyone really, something was there to fill that gap. Maybe that was the gap where Henry had been when Edward was in charge, but why was it bothering him?

    He should like being on his own, able to do whatever he wanted, think his own thoughts without backlash but it was all-

Too

Quiet.

    And it was Henry’s fault...

    He, was probably going to take Archer up on his offer, because Rachel was already in bed probably, so was most of the Society. Maybe it’d help keep him from scratching his bandages off again when he woke up.

Chapter 9: Intervention

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed, nothing happened.

    It was a record, for the Society, as seemingly every two weeks now since its conception something seemed to happen. Devastating explosions, exhibitions, arrests, resurrecting a dead body manufactured to rescue a friend, soul extraction, birthday parties, to name a few things.

    It, was almost like things had gone back to normal, only now Hyde was always around instead of only half the time. In his first few days of house arrest he’d pulled pranks, talked a lot, and been a general nuisance, but he was clearly glad to be back. He was interested in everyone and everything, it seemed to the Lodgers he was a bit like a child in his actions and questions, and it also seemed that he could barely stand being alone anymore.

It was no secret anymore he couldn’t stay asleep well on his own due to nightmares these days, but it was also no secret that he was a great bedfellow.

    And not at all in a sexual manner, but in a hold-me-and-hug-me kind of way, a cozy way. Not that many of the Lodgers other than Rachel had known that, but twice now he’d been spotted coming out of someone’s bedroom in the wee hours of the morning. (Still fully clothed and looking sleepy, but also looking more rested than usual.)

    When the novelty of pranks and climbing the society had worn off, Hyde took to snooping and studying. He was surprisingly curious about the Lodgers’ work, and when they could captivate his short attention span, he made a great lab partner. Eager, energetic, full of questions and quirky remarks that made it both fun and annoying to work with him. Hyde said it was pure boredom that drove him to “joining the long hours of work towards ridiculous science,” and as true as it was, it was also interesting.

    And, distracting.

    Better to be busy than locked inside his own head.

    Jekyll had also changed over the two weeks. He regained his composure, his relaxed smile and tone, it seemed as if he’d returned to ordinary. But there was a certain sort of still restlessness to his movements and speech, as if he were afraid something would happen if he were to stop. Stop what though? Listening? Speaking? Moving?

    No one could tell.

    But the oddest thing to develop over the weeks, besides Hyde easily joining the ordinary life of the Society, was how he and Jekyll visibly avoided each other. If Hyde were in the middle of a conversation and Jekyll were to enter the room with some sponsors, giving them a tour of the establishment, he’d stand abruptly and hurry out, trying his hardest not to look at Jekyll in the process. And while Hyde went out of his way to avoid the doctor, Jekyll was more subtle about keeping his distance, dodging the small blonde man as easily as he had dodged questions before.

    None of the Lodgers could tell why they were so adamant on avoiding each other, besides the obvious that is, but it became something of a nuisance. Twice Sinnett’s experiments had failed because his lab assistant had bailed when Jekyll came to check what all the smoke way about, Ito and Cantilupe had similar grievances to share. As annoying as it was becoming, no one quite knew how to fix it.

    Doddle did though.

    “You know Henry, despite your difference and past transgressions, you and Hyde ought to talk about what happened,” he said, placing a tray of experimental fudges before the doctor. He had been trying his damndest to rebuild trust with Henry after the Revival, as they’d taken to calling it. Jekyll had indeed begun to trust him, and the other lodgers again, but it had taken lots of promises and giving him space.

    Jekyll frowned, “I assume this is why you invited me down, not to try the fudge.”

    Doddle laughed, “Oh no! The fudge is the most important thing here, I’m merely taking the opportunity to suggest that you talk with your-” he searched for the word- “Assistant.”

    “He is not my assistant.” Jekyll examined the fudges before taking one, and with it he gestured to Doddle, “And we’ve nothing to talk about that won’t dissolve into an argument.”

    The confectionist nodded slowly, watching as his candies were tasted one by one. “You say that, sir, however I don’t think the two of you have really, spoken, since the event besides going to speak with Brokenshire. And he told me even then he was to stay quiet. Surely there are things you want to say to him.”

    “There are quite a few things I want to say to him, but I,” he sighed heavily and stood a little straighter, “But, he is both avoiding me and I’d rather not be reminded of my greatest mistake.”

    Doddle chuckled, making Jekyll look over in confusion. “He is far from a mistake doctor, if your notes are anything to go by, he’s precisely what you wanted to create.”

    Jekyll lowered his eyes in shame, “I didn’t want to create another person. And if what you say is true, he is the collection of my evil.” Which he clearly is not, as I am still capable of such horrendous acts.

    “If men could be easily divided into good and evil, would there be any reason for wars? For fights and sorrow?” asked Doddle, sounding thoughtful. He gestured with a hand, “True evil would be easy to find, to eliminate, and we’d only be left with good. I am sure that was your logic as well. But we both know humanity is, not so clearly divided.”

    “What are you trying to tell me Doddle?”

    The confectionist smiled softly, “That Hyde is not so evil as you believe him to be, and that you yourself are not so evil either. You two need to talk, face to face, about what happened. We’ve all made our apologies for, er, manhandling you, but you’ve said nothing to him about what happened.”

    “You, want me to apologize?” How can I? I don’t regret it. I regret that it remains to haunt me I- no. Jekyll’s sour expression dropped and he sighed, “You’re right though, I should. What I did was, wrong,”

    “Good, now go tell him that.”

    Jekyll chuckled weakly and shrugged, “Easier said than done. But, thank you Doddle, the fudge was delicious. Though, the cinnamon was a little odd.”

    “I’ll make a note for next time,” the confectionist said, his easygoing smile getting a little bigger as Henry turned and walked out, hands folded behind him pensively in thought.

~

    Down below, seated opposite a chess board from Frankenstein’s Monster, Hyde’s hands were folded under his chin in heavy thought. He’d never been very good at chess, but today he simply wanted to be as far from Jekyll as possible, and Creature had already proven to be a wonderful conversationalist. Not to mention, what they’d had in common before, their origins in mad science, were much more similar now.

    “I’m not going to turn green am I?” he asked, moving a bishop across the board. Diagonally, exactly like he’d been shown.

    “Likely not, Victoria says my coloring is a result of using partially rotted body parts,” the Creature answered, considering the board. “If I may, what was it like waking up, for you? I recall bright light, pain, but it is a blur until I was far from my origin.” The pawn made a clacking noise as it was moved forward.

    Hyde rubbed the bandage on his wrist, feeling the scab beneath sting slightly. The bolt wounds were mostly healed, the magic of alchemy had sped up the process greatly but they still itched. His mind wandered back to that day, mostly fuzzy, thinking to the moment he opened his eyes.

    “I, hell if I know how to explain it now, but it was like dreaming for a moment. The kind of dream where you’re falling and just before you hit you wake up and feel your whole body jolt.” He placed a knight forward with confidence, though his words were timid. “That’s what it felt like, getting put into the body I suppose, since they did take out my bloody soul. Waking up was, slower, painfully slow, like falling asleep and waking up with a numb arm. I heard Rachel’s voice first, calling me, I thought I’d finally up and died and was being greeted by an angel. But then, everything stung, and she was hugging me and there was cheering, I was certain I’d finally lost my mind.”

    Hyde watched Creature take his knight and scowled, as he spoke he waved his hands about, “Then I saw Henry behind all of them and, and then I knew I was alive again. Any heaven I’ll be let into will be rid of him, my hell will be locked with him in a room for eternity. Do you know how long an eternity is? It’s really bloody long and-”

    “Hyde.”

    He paused, lowering his hands and tucking them between his crossed legs, “Yes?”

    Creature folded his arms, “You need to talk to Jekyll, face to face, and tell him.”

    Edward stiffened, “Hell no! Just looking at him makes me feel like I’m going to fall apart at the seams! No offense.”

    Creature raised a brow, “You, are aware I felt precisely the same for the majority of my life until Victoria and I had a proper conversation right?”

    “That’s different,” Hyde mumbled, looking away with a bitter frown on his face.

    “How?” Creature’s tone was sharp, biting, almost demanding. “How is it different Hyde? Our, creators, put us through hell then tried, or in your case is trying, to ignore you in case you go away. Mine ended with murder and betrayal and years and years of unnecessary melancholy and madness. Do you want it to go that far between you and Jekyll?”

    A long moment of silence passed, Hyde staring at the Creature with an expression akin to a scolded child. He was hurt, and scared, and suddenly seemed much more vulnerable than he had before. Arms folded defensively over his chest, knees now drawn up, eyes downcast, “No. But, I’m, I just don’t want to talk to him.”

    “You’re scared of him.”

    Hyde’s grip on his upper sleeves tightened. “I’m not scared of a puppet.”

    “But you are scared of being, banished again. He can’t do that to you, now that you’re in a body of your own, you can, resist.” Creature gestured to the board, “Your move.”

    Edward stared at the board, turning over what he’d been told. Resistance, that sounded like a good idea, it was reassuring to think of. He had a chance to fight back if Henry tried anything.

    He could, practically do whatever he wanted.

    He grinned a bit and picked up his queen, moving it forward in front of Creature’s king. “Checkmate.”

    Creature smirked, “Impressive. What are you going to do now?”

    Hyde began to reset the pieces, “Well, I’d like to play another round with you, but, perhaps, perhaps I’ll try to talk to Henry I think I’ve got a plan now.”

    “That’s good to hear.”

~

    Jekyll pushed open the door of his office, shutting it behind him and listening to the silence that was far too quiet these days. With slow, methodical steps, he strode to his cabinet of alchemy, staring at the shiny new glasses and chemicals on new and unfamiliar shelves. He reached up and ran a hand along the wood, Hyde had broken the last one, would he do it again?

    Everyone seemed convinced that Hyde, Edward, was scared of him. Jekyll knew Hyde better than that, he destroyed what he was afraid of, so it didn’t have to scare him anymore. When the fire bloomed all over the street in front of the Society, he’d destroyed his reputation, so he didn’t have to fear it coming back for him. When Jekyll had promised to hurt him with a serum, he’d destroyed what chemicals remained, trashed the notes and studies and work, got rid of it all so he couldn’t be hurt.

    Placed on one of the shelves in a box, was a single scalpel, and Jekyll lifted the box out. He held it in his hands, slowly opening it to reveal the slim, impossibly sharp blade. With a practiced hand, he lifted it from the box and examined it.

    He returned it to the box and tucked it away somewhere hidden.

    Better Hyde not find it.

    There was a knock at the door and Henry jumped, catching his breath before calling: “Come in.”

    The door was pushed open, closed, and he heard the lock slide. A sigh escaped his lips and he turned, expression cold, “Edward.”

    “Henry,” the shorter man countered, hands folded behind his back.

    Jekyll expected the worst, until Hyde pulled out a leather bound book wrapped in a green ribbon. With deliberate, hesitant steps, he strode over and shoved it into Jekyll’s hands. “Read it.”

    “Pardon?”

    “Fucking read it.” Hyde couldn’t keep eye contact and looked down at the book, “I’ll end up at your throat if I try to explain it, so just fucking read it okay?”

    Slowly, Jekyll took the book, watching as Hyde backed away, turned, and walked to the opposite side of the room with his arms folded, head bowed. Henry looked at the book, then walked to his desk, and sat. With the room silent, but that emptiness filled by Hyde’s presence, he began to read.

Chapter 10: Truth

Chapter Text

    I am not alright.

    Better get that right off my fucking chest before those words eat me alive.

    Just being here at times feels, wrong, I want to claw my skin off and pull out my hair until it stops. But, other times, it feels so good and so real and so wonderful to be alive again. I swear to god my heartbeat has never been so loud and I’ve never loved that sound more.

    Creature says that the numb patches in my skin are going to go away eventually, but then again he’s not sure since I was made from alchemy. He at least is made of forgotten body parts, things that definitely used to be alive, I came out of a bunch of bowls and test tubes. Seriously though, Ito deserves some sort of brilliant gold metal for what she managed to figure out, I can think of six uses for home grown body parts off the top of my head and she can just make them.

    ...

    Guess it’s a good thing my origin is at least consistent now, I was manufactured from alchemy on all fronts. Galvanism and necromancy brought me to life, I am alone in the world.

    The only Edward Hyde, literal Man of Science.

    I

    Jekyll, because you’re going to fucking read this someday, you’re going to know what you did to me. You’re going to sit there and read this so you fucking know.

    You stole my voice, you stole my body, my freedom, my soul, all of it got snuffed because you “didn’t realize I was human.” You were lying to yourself, to both of us, and I’m pissed off about it. And not my usual turn-into-a-hallucination-volcano anger, the kind that simmers and boils under the skin until it erupts and someone actually gets hurt.

    You know those months I was gone? Where it was blissfully silent and you had a mental breakdown when you realized people fucking cared about me? You know where I was? Locked in a black void at the back of your mind, numb and cold and scared out of my mind.

    I couldn’t do anything, suspended in that blackness as if floating. There wasn’t any wind, any air, I couldn’t feel my body, I couldn’t see or hear or move, I’m guessing it’s because I’d finally disconnected from the body…

    I was only a mind, in all likelihood, it’s any wonder I didn’t just fade out of existence completely. I guess my desire to spite you, to stare you in the eye again and spit on your perfect fucking face kept me alive, so ha! Your fault again that I’m still here!!!

    I wish I’d died then!!! Only because I wouldn’t have that emptiness haunting me now! Every time I try to sleep that void comes back to haunt me, the blackness claws at me and threatens to pull me back when I close my eyes. It’s terrifying.

    And if you hadn’t pulled that shit, I wouldn’t be reminded of it everytime I look at your stupid puppet face. Your pretty doll facade, but they know you’re horrible now and I don’t understand how they’ve forgiven you, but they have.

    Guess that’s one good thing about you, you can be forgiven, you’ve got the face for it!

    How’s my face so different?

    I could too, I guess, no one cares about the trouble I got them in for the fire, they’re just glad I’m back. That eats at you, doesn’t it? That they were willing to go so far for me, a hallucination.

~

    On and on and on it went, Hyde’s writing spinning from concentrated swearing to spinning purple prose, beautiful writing in a, haunting sort of way.

It left Jekyll shaken.

The words written there, there’s no way they were his, and it was impossible to deny now that Hyde had been, and was, an entity of his own.

    Of course he’d known this, he’d known this the moment they’d pulled his soul apart. He knew this when Hyde greeted Frankenstein’s monster with excitement, when he went parading around with a torn cape. Henry knew Edward had been his own entity from the day his reflection had spoken back. (At one point they’d been the same, but were they truly ever different?)

    He’d been lying, lying to himself and to Hyde, even though neither knew it. God it would be so much easier if Hyde was still just part of Jekyll, another facet of his personality, another side, a mask. But no, not this time, this time Hyde was something knew.

    Slowly, Henry closed the journal and stood, knowing now what he had to do.

    He had to apologize, for everything, from drinking the potion that first time to silencing Hyde. All of it was wrong, and the blonde had deserved none of it.

    Edward had stood at the desk to the side of the room, fiddling with something he’d found.

    “Hyde, I, I have something to say,” Jekyll began, walking closer. When the other did not move, he stepped up behind and placed a gentle hand on Hyde’s shoulder. “Listen, I-”

    The reaction was immediate, and impossibly fast.

    The second his hand touched the shoulder, Hyde whipped around and drove a fist into Jekyll’s perfect jaw, sending him reeling back, clutching his face. Sharp pain sprang from his lip and his fingertips came away bloody when he checked. He didn’t have a chance to look up before the springy blonde tackled him to the ground and pressed the sharp, cool blade of a letter opened to Jekyll’s throat.

    So that was it.

    Jekyll was going to die.

    “I’m done, listening,” Edward growled, pressing it into his skin. Henry felt the sharp of the blade begin to bite into his throat, “I could end you, right here, right now, and never have to fear your stupid, perfect face ever again. And you can’t even stop me.”

    Jekyll stared at him, breath coming in short, quavering bursts, blood beginning to leak from the split in his lip, his ruby colored eyes locked on Hyde’s emerald ones. He seemed afraid, pale, shaking, frozen, but he wasn’t scared.

He wasn’t scared  because he’d been expecting this, in some part of his soul, and dare he say it?

    He’d been wanting it? Desiring judgement from the victim to act as executioner?

    Jekyll’s face contorted into a scowl and he cried: “Do it then! Prove yourself as my concentrated evil! Show everyone we are a monster in a porcelain mask like you so loved to brag we were!” Henry felt tears of fear, frustration, anger, bubble in his eyes, “Just do it! Just kill me like you know you want to! Get rid of us both! Live without fear of my stupid perfect fucking face giving you god damn nightmares because I’m such a monster I left you scarred! I didn’t want to hurt anyone but I’m such a selfish prick I didn’t even consider what was going to happen to you! I DESER-” WHAM!

    Edward slammed his fist into Henry’s face again, feeling something crack under his knuckles as Henry’s face was thrown sideways. Blood splattered from his nose onto the floor and he gasped in pain. He clutched his face, whimpering as Hyde stood and staggered back, grip on the letter opener so tight his knuckles were white. “No, no nononono you, you were supposed to beg.”

    He waved the letter opener threateningly, and when he spoke it was a scream. “You, you were supposed to beg! You weren’t, supposed to own up, to, to apologize, you were supposed to want to live! I was going to get vengeance! I was going to be merciful and spare you!”

    “What have I got to live for?” Henry rasped, blood already dribbling down his face from his nose. He wiped at it uselessly, smearing it over his lips and cheek until it looked like ruined makeup. He tried to sit up, hissing as the forming bruises on his back moaned in pain. “The Lodgers betrayed me, Lanyon doesn’t understand, you want me dead, and I’m a monster of a human being. I don’t, fuck, I don’t deserve this life, not after what I did to you, what I did to them . They didn’t, they didn’t even really think about what would’ve happened if I’d died for them to resurrect you.”

    The letter opener clattered to the ground, and Jekyll looked up. Tears were filling Edward’s eyes and his breathing was speeding up. The color had drained from his face and his hands were visibly shaking. “No, no you don’t get it, I’m the mistake, I’m the new Frankenstein’s monster, I’m the one who’s not supposed to exist, I’m the one who couldn’t even be the culmination of your evil! You, you’ve got everything to live for, I couldn’t even die correctly.”

    “But you don’t deserve to die, and you want to live. ” Henry dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his face again. “You, the Lodgers love you, you’re a miracle of science and you didn’t deserve, what I did, what I did to you.”

    Hyde stammered, trying to think of something to say. “You, you, you did it for them and, and I know they care about me and I understand I just-” he grabbed his hair and pulled, “I’m just tired of not, feeling, real and being scared and everything you fucking do reminds me I shouldn’t exist and I jus-”

    He was cut off by a pair of strong arms wrapping around him suddenly, making his heart stop in fear and surprise. Henry held him close to his chest and choked down a sob, shaking and leaning onto Edward as he crumbled. “Edward, I’m so sorry, I never meant for any of this. You, you didn’t deserve any of this.”

    Hyde stiffened, every instinct in his body telling him to run, to get away, to hide from this man who had hurt him. But his heart, and his mind, made him wrap his shaking arms around Jekyll in return and bury his face in his shoulder. And, for once since everything started, neither of them felt like something was missing.

    Romantic as it seemed, it only helped the two of them to completely break down in tears. Edward babbled apology after apology for trying to kill Jekyll, scrubbing uselessly at the tears on his face and runny nose that just wouldn’t stop. He didn’t mean it, not really, he just didn’t think Jekyll would apologize without incentive. He’d only wanted an apology, a confession, some proof that he wasn’t wrong.

Henry could barely get out a whole word, voice cracking and catching as he begged Edward for forgiveness. He’d only wanted to help the Lodgers, and after everything, he’d been so scared of Edward doing something even worse and he just, stopping thinking. Hyde understood his motives, but that didn’t make them right, it had been wrong what he’d done, worse than any jail time they could’ve served.

Neither was sure who collapsed first, but they wound up seated together on the ground in each other’s embrace, shaking and crying for a long time.

    Eventually, they both fell silent, catching their breath as things finally began to settle.

Henry tried to sniffle through the bloody nose and broke down coughing. When he wiped at the blood, it only served to make things worse, making him look like a serial killer or perhaps a cannibal. Edward frowned and stole the handkerchief from Henry’s pocket, gently taking his face, dabbing at the blood as best he could, his touch surprisingly gentle. Henry tried not to twitch, wishing he didn’t enjoy this little process.

Something about it just, felt right.

Neither would ever admit that though.

    “I never expected to be the one patching you up,” Edward mumbled, staring at the blood stained kerchief in his hand. Henry took it and held over his nose, plugging it and smiling weakly, a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks, “I never expected you to be the one to break my nose.”

    Hyde chuckled softly, “You, you kind of deserved it.”

This made Jekyll smile, despite the fact he was hiding his face. “Yeah I did, didn’t I?”

    With the gentlest of touch, Edward made Henry move his hand, gently running the tips of his fingers over the bridge of Henry’s nose, “Definitely broken but uh, not, not misaligned, I’m sorry.”

    “I don’t blame you. It’ll, it’ll heal.”

    “I, I think I can bandage it, if you need. But you’re going to have to tell me what to do.” He sounded ashamed, like a scolded child trying to make up for their mistake.

    “Edward I’ll be fine…”

    “Henry, come on, at least let me help you clean up, it’s the least I can do for attempted bloody murder.”

    “Alright, alright. Thank you.”

~

    It must’ve been an hour later, when someone finally went to get the keys from Rachel to unlock the door. Multiple Lodgers had heard the scuffle, the shouting, the clattering of metal and the slamming of, something. Luckett was the one who ran to get the keys to force Jekyll’s door open.

    He opened it slowly, lest he interrupt something important or violent, but the room beyond was silent. A beam of daylight fell through the open door and across the forms of Jekyll and Hyde, both slumped against the desk. Edward lay curled against Henry’s side, fluffy head resting against Jekyll’s chest, eyes closed and peaceful. There was blood on his hands, splatters and smears, but only a little. Henry’s head rested against the desk, he held a bloodied cloth to his nose which looked swollen beneath a single white bandage, the other was braided into Hyde’s hair.

    He looked up as the light fell on them, eyes half lidded with sleep, and slowly raised a finger to his lips. He gestured to the smaller figure asleep on his side and made a gentle “shoo” motion. When Luckett didn’t move, he shooed harder.

    Even from here, Luckett could see Henry’s eyes were ringed with red from crying, so he offered them a smile and quietly shut the door.

    “Well? Are they okay?” asked Helsby, who’d been hovering around the door since the first shouts.

    “Are they hurt?” asked Flowers, hands clasped in worry.

    “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d killed one another,” Griffin said, his normally angry exterior pierced with a bit of worry and concern.

    To all of them, Luckett chuckled and made a motion for quiet. “To be fair, I’ve never seen either of them this peaceful. It does look like Hyde broke the dear Doctor’s nose but they’re both alive, and getting some well deserved rest. Let’s let them sleep yes?”

    “They’re asleep together?” asked Ito, both brows raised in surprise, a hand over her chest. “I honestly thought Hyde was going in there to kill him.”

    “Ito!” Flowers scolded, elbowing the alchemist gently. “Must you think so little of Master Hyde? He’s a mischief maker sure but he’s no murderer.”

    “Frankly I’m glad they’re getting along,” said Mosley coolly, arms folded and looking towards the door. “We should spread the word, everyone can stop trying to make them talk now.”

    “Much good it did anyway, Doddle and Creature were the ones who managed to convince them,” Cantilupe said, gesturing with a hand. “And they weren’t even in on it, if you catch my drift.”

    There was a brief bit of laughter and the Lodgers dispersed. Cantilupe, before departing, peeked into the office and couldn’t help but smile.

    They were both asleep now, Hyde snuggled into Jekyll.

    She made sure to shut the door again before leaving.

Notes:

Inspired by CloseToSomethingReal 's fic, "The End of a Nightmare" and a bad afternoon. I just started thinking about what it would be like to fade out of existence from Hyde's POV and, well, made my friends cry in the process.