#call me Utterson now I dare you

[immediatebreakfast]

Dear Lanyon,—You are one of my oldest friends; and although we may have differed at times on scientific questions, I cannot remember, at least on my side, any break in our affection. There was never a day when, if you had said to me, ‘Jekyll, my life, my honour, my reason, depend upon you,’ I would not have sacrificed my left hand to help you. Lanyon, my life, my honour, my reason, are all at your mercy; if you fail me to-night, I am lost. 

Sir Henry Jekyll, admired scientist of your time.

“It is well,” replied my visitor. “Lanyon, you remember your vows: what follows is under the seal of our profession. And now, you who have so long been bound to the most narrow and material views, you who have denied the virtue of transcendental medicine, you who have derided your superiors—behold!”

You are a hypocrite beyond comparison.

How could he? How truly could he dare do this? I ask, and yet the answer lays on Hyde's words, and Jekyll's intentions.

Lanyon's letter is the beginning of the end in this mystery. It is the ugly truth coming to light, it's looking at the horror directly, and wondering why are you witnessing this.

How arrogant of Jekyll to play with his disturbing discovery like this in front of his old friend. He wrote such moving letter, so well written and so desperate, to lead Lanyon to do what he wanted. Yet, in his desperation to prove his theory, Jekyll killed Lanyon.

Remember how they fell apart, a dispute about crimes against science, probably trying to do magic, and call it science. Then neither can see eachother, leaving Utterson in the middle, and in all of that time Jekyll was preparing this while Lanyon was none the wiser.

The chase, the instructions, Hyde coming to Lanyon's house specifically, all of it was planned.

Now that I truly think about it, maybe this is why Hyde had such despicable aura, and how he as mask ends up becoming "stronger" than Jekyll despite him being a fundamental part of the gentleman. Hyde's whole being, one of the pillars that made his existance possible was Jekyll's emotions towards Lanyon. All of that pettiness, the hate, the rage, all of them boiled inside Jekyll then exploded in Hyde.

Hyde is not only Jekyll with a mask, he is Jekyll's ill intentions made physical to the point that the first thing people notice about him is that negative miasma that makes them hate him. Hyde was born out of hatred!

And what Jekyll did was inflict that traumatic transformation upon Lanyon... Because Lanyon rightfully called his endeavours "unscientific balderdash." An unscientific balderdash that ended up killing him from pure terror.

This whole horrifying display of defying the laws of nature was just the pettiest way possible for Henry Jekyll to finally prove to his old friend Hastie Lanyon that at the end he was the better scientist.

[nik-the-bik]

Hyde Meets Mr. Seek - The Strange Case Fanfic

Hello yes this is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever done by a mile and it's been a draft for months.

Jekyll/Utterson is obviously my favorite ship but what happens when Hyde enters the mix?

Yes 100% of the dialogue exchange is from canon.

*****

It was a crisp evening, London had turned over to bed, and Mr. Hyde was strutting his way back home himself. Not that he wanted to go in quite yet, mind you. He still had hours of energy left in him—the night air called him seductively to explore the city’s darkest corners and continue to indulge his deepest fantasies. But he had already been kicked out of a couple of bars tonight, although he certainly wasn’t that drunk yet, thank you very much. Still, a few previous nights like this one had shown him that it was sometimes better to cut your losses than press your luck trying to surpass the limits of your sobriety at some other shabby institution.

Not to mention a few fierce looking characters were cross with him tonight after he had let his ruthless tongue get the best of him, and it was probably best if he skirted off now before they had any reason to track his scent back here.

As the nondescript back door to Jekyll’s cabinet came into view, Hyde almost felt like whistling as he reached for the key, another night out complete, another undertaking met with some modicum of success. That’s when he felt a gentle hand suddenly brush his shoulder, and a voice he knew deep in his marrow crashed into him.

“Mr. Hyde, I think?”

The unexpected touch coupled with that voice—this voice, of all people! —sent a thunderbolt through Hyde’s whole system and he took in a sharp, jilted breath in panic. His heart was suddenly beating in his ears as anxiety filled him.

Utterson!

What was Utterson doing here?

He stopped, desperate to calm himself, shook off the hand that gripped him, and coiled inward. The once bracing evening air now stung his lungs, and he didn’t dare turn around. Since his being, Hyde had instinctively known to avoid the friends of Dr. Jekyll. He couldn’t imagine a worse person in that circle to encounter first.

Without turning around, he mumbled, “That is my name. What do you want?”

The man behind him hesitated before clearing his throat, and patiently, as though speaking to a petulant child, said, “I see you are going in. I am an old friend of Dr. Jekyll’s – Mr. Utterson of Gaunt Street – you must have heard my name; and meeting you so conveniently, I thought you might admit me.”

Okay.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Utterson was here. Utterson somehow knew that Hyde had connections with Jekyll. Utterson was looking for Jekyll. Utterson was never going to find Jekyll, not while he was Hyde.

Fuck.

“You will not find Dr. Jekyll; he is from home.”

He thought he heard Utterson sigh behind him – was he disappointed? Sympathy welled within him; some of the anxiety dissipated. Perhaps Utterson didn’t have any unusual suspicions about Hyde, or at least not yet. Still, to be sure…

“How did you know me?” Hyde asked, voice now shaken.

Instead, he found his question returned with another.“

On your side, will you do me a favor?” Utterson asked softly, his voice rising faintly at the tail end of his request, as though forcing through an unseen obstacle.

Hyde felt his heart lurch with anticipation, his eyes widened as he tried to combat the unexpected thrill that overtook him. “With pleasure,” he responded, feeling unsteady. “What shall it be?”

“Will you let me see your face?”

Hyde stiffened, fists clenching as his heart pounded faster than he ever thought possible. His face?

Don’t do this!

Utterson – Gabriel Utterson! – he wanted to see him!

What if he recognizes you!?

Is that what this was all about? Was there some suspicion? How? It wasn’t possible—nobody had ever recognized Hyde for who he really was.

But this isn’t just some nobody, this is-- GABRIEL. UTTERSON.

Yes, which is exactly why Hyde needed to turn around and see him for himself!

If ANYONE will see through you, it’s him! And what will you do then?

What does it matter—

Would you be able to face him if he were to hate you like all the others?

--well —

Just go! We can deal with Utterson another time when I am—

--I WON’T BE TOLD WHAT TO DO!

In defiance, Hyde whipped himself around and found himself face-to-face with—

Him.

The sharp flash of anger immediately disappeared as he met Utterson’s eyes. Utterson, on his part, took a near imperceptible step back in surprise, but held his gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes stared at him imploringly, cheeks slightly pink from the cold, his soft mouth turning downward into the most delicate frown.

Hyde was captivated. Enthralled.

Smitten.

Beautiful, sweet Utterson, bless him, was doing an admirable job of biting back the repulsion that all people instinctively felt at the sight of Hyde. Nevertheless, Utterson never lost his composure or broke his gaze, and his eyes pierced him with an intensity that Hyde could never remember seeing before.

At the first sight of him, Hyde was flooded with every fond memory, every tender feeling Henry Jekyll had of his dearest Gabriel Utterson all at once, the strength of his affection now rising tenfold, and he immediately knew to his very core that Gabriel Utterson owned his heart completely, and that, like Jekyll, Hyde was bound to love him for all the rest of his life.

When Hyde finally felt himself soften from the tense agitation he had originally turned around with, melting in the warmth of Utterson’s eyes, Utterson found it in him to blink and clear his surprise. His gaze diverted to the side as he cleared his throat and straightened himself.

“There,” Gabriel said, eyes cautiously flicking back to Hyde’s face. “Now I shall know you again.” Gabriel shook the tension from his arms, eyes now landing on his own feet. “It may be useful.�� Gabriel’s eyes darted back to Hyde’s briefly but couldn’t bear to linger before once again searching elsewhere.

Seeing the usually stoic Gabriel Utterson so discomposed roused feelings of affection and pity for this dear sweet man, who was struggling to feign politeness in the wake of, well, Hyde. Hyde, desperate to soothe him, whispered in reassurance, “Yes…it is as well we have met; and a propos, you should have my address.” When Gabriel’s eyes flicked upwards to match Hyde’s again, taking in the details about that shady flat in Soho, Hyde felt himself secretly wishing that the new possession of the address would act as an open invitation. Utterson let out a soft grunt in affirmation at the information, and still looked as though he was ready to turn around and abandon this whole venture.

Before he could, Hyde interjected, “And now, how did you know me?”

Utterson was forced to look him in the eye again, and Hyde did everything in his power to try to appear unprovoking, short of offering a smile. Seeing Hyde calmer seemed to ease Utterson’s own discomfort.

“By description,” he replied.

“Whose description?”

“We have common friends.”

Concern started rearing its ugly head in Hyde’s thoughts again. Common friends? Not likely. His brow furrowed. “Common friends? Who are they?”

“Jekyll, for instance,” Utterson offered.

Seething rage poured over Hyde. What was he playing at? What did he really want, and why on earth was he lying?

“He never told you. I did not think you would have lied,” Hyde spat. Utterson was up to something, and he refused to trust Hyde. He hated him, just like everyone else.

“Come, that is not fitting language,” Utterson gasped, taken aback.

Hyde felt himself snarl out of sheer frustration. How could Utterson of all people so blatantly lie to him, his best friend, his soul mate, his –

Well, he was only Hyde, after all.

The animalistic anger quickly melted into an off-kilter laughter as Hyde began to comprehend just how utterly fucked this whole situation was. Rage now replaced with overwhelming shame, he finally turned, jammed his key into the lock on the door, and marched through, letting it slam behind him.

As the sound of the slam echoed through the passage, leaving him in sheer darkness, Hyde stumbled forward a few more steps on uncertain feet before his legs fell from under him and he collapsed to his hands and knees. He felt more drunk now than he had moments ago, before the encounter.

His head was swimming with more emotion than he had any ability to grasp, contradictory forces of anger, sadness, happiness, betrayal, desire, all jerking him in different directions and colliding back into him once more.

Most of all, there was a deep, powerful yearning tugging him.

He wanted desperately to get up and turn back around, step back outside, see if he was still there—on the off chance that Utterson hadn’t turned and fled—and beg forgiveness. He’d be on his knees, apologize for his rage, his rudeness, insist he wanted to build an acquaintance. And maybe – maybe – he’d pull Utterson into his arms and let his lips trace a path from his ear down his jaw to his neck, whispering “The Doctor has told me all about you, though.”

Would Utterson shove him away in anger? Fear? Disgust? Loathing? Or perhaps – perhaps – there was the slightest chance he’d melt into Hyde’s touch and submit himself to forging a connection with Hyde that had never been possible with Jekyll.

Then there was that cold, loathsome voice in his head again.

You will leave Gabriel Utterson alone.

Rage flared up once more. Why should he? Why shouldn’t he be allowed to create a bond with the man his whole being knew instinctively?

These lives cannot intersect. If you try to drag Utterson into your world, you will bring nothing but regret and misery to us all.

Regrettably, that voice had a point.

You might be comfortable reveling in your own disgraces, but you will not contaminate HIM. I won’t allow it.

No. Of course not.

Hyde would never again be near Utterson.

He wouldn’t dare.

[mrhyde-mrseek]

SCIENCE MOST SINISTER - PART FOUR

CW: Brief mentions of a past su*c*de attempt/faked death! (AKA Jekyll’s poisoning—which, in this universe, was faked.)

No matter how hard he tried, Jekyll couldn’t get Hyde’s voice to stop echoing in his head.

This could be permanent, he was saying. What will you do if neither Holmes nor anybody else can find a cure?

“Will you quit trying to make me paranoid?” Jekyll snapped.

And remember Griffin’s description of the face in his hallucination, Hyde continued, ignoring the demand. Our eyes match up perfectly. Just imagine, your skin blackening like charred wood and melting away like a lump of candle wax held over a flame—

“Shut up!” Jekyll couldn’t listen to any more of this. He hunched over on the sofa, hands clawing at his skull, anything to silence the unwelcome voice that was both his and yet not quite his own.

It had been some time since he had awoken, he couldn’t say exactly how long. Watson had confined him to the study for now on the fear that he would hurt himself if he tried to walk up and down stairs he could no longer see. A nervous habit of his was restless pacing, and that was what he had tried to do to pass the time and think. However, after bumping into enough furniture to create a considerable bruise, he had relented and succumbed to sitting on the sofa, tapping his foot and tugging at his sleeve cuffs.

“I should see how Holmes is faring, shouldn’t I?” he murmured, less to Hyde and more to the dust particles gathering in the corners of the room.

Without the ability to see, his spacial recognition of the study was completely off-kilter. He thought objects were closer than they actually were, staggered into other objects to avoid those ones, and nearly bumped into the doorframe.

His exit was stopped by a hand against his chest. He jumped, but his surprise was quelled by the anxious, subdued voice of Victor. “Where are you trying to go?”

“I wanted to see if Holmes has made any progress on the sample he got,” he said.

“Here. Take this.” Something long and smooth was thrust into his hand. He felt along it, fingering a cold, perfectly cylindrical silver topper. Hyde’s cane. “I thought you might want to use it to help you feel if you are about to walk into something.”

Jekyll had never used the cane, even before he had come to the House. Utterson had left it at his old London manor years before he made the serum, and only as Hyde had he put it to use, even if that use was not its intended one. But now, the assistance would be welcome. He smiled. “Thank you, Victor.”

Holmes’ study-laboratory combination was, thankfully, on the same floor as the main study. The journey down the hallway and around the corner was made significantly quicker with the help of the cane. He found the door mainly by following the noises coming from it; for, by the sound of it, Holmes wasn’t having much luck and was frustrated.

He knocked hesitantly. The detective’s voice called irritably, “Come in!” and he opened the door but didn’t dare walk in—the floor, he knew, would be chaos, and the order the mess was spread out in changed constantly, and he did not want Holmes becoming angry with him for accidentally ruining something.

He coughed. The mere scent of tobacco smoke was almost palpable, and he imagined that it surrounded Holmes’ head like a storm cloud.

“What is it, Jekyll?” Holmes grumbled from the other side of the room, where his chemistry equipment was set up.

“I wanted to see how your tests were coming,” Jekyll said.

The detective sighed. “I am afraid I am at a loss. I have tested and examined the liquid in every way I know how to, but I have yet to come up with anything. That is,” he added, “anything that makes sense.”

Jekyll tilted his head. “Elaborate?”

“It had a very strange reaction to being placed on different types of paper. On each sheet I used, it spread over the paper and dissolved and absorbed it. It practically ate it, it seemed almost . . . alive. And I do not know what that means, because it is undoubtedly a liquid; for every other identification test I performed, it reacted in the same way water does.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any answers yourself, would you?” the detective asked.

“I am at a loss,” said Jekyll apologetically. “I’m sorry. Perhaps Van Helsing might have some insight, if you send him a telegram?”

Just then, a loud ringing echoed through the downstairs, catching the immediate attention of the two men. “The telephone!” both Jekyll and Holmes exclaimed, rushing—well, Jekyll going as fast as he dared—down the hallway.

Holmes reached the table the telephone stood on first. Jekyll heard him swipe the earpiece off the receiver. There was a moment of suspenseful silence, and then Holmes put the telephone in Jekyll’s hand, saying, perplexed, “I cannot place the voice.”

“Hello?” said Jekyll tentatively, raising it to his ear.

“Hello, Henry,” the deep, strongly-accented, vaguely flat voice on the other end of the line answered, and the answer made the blood in Jekyll’s veins run cold and terrified with ice.

“Utterson,” both he and Hyde breathed hoarsely.

~•~

“I thought you said you thought that Utterson thought you were dead!” Gwen exclaimed.

“I thought he did!” Jekyll cried in protest. His mind was reeling.

“Well, you apparently thought wrong!”

“Wait.” He put his face in his hands, trying to grasp at one coherent thought. “I poisoned myself—or, pretended that I had. He saw Hyde’s body, he read my explanation, I know he did. But how on earth would he know where I ran off to?”

He knew the answer even as he asked the question: he wouldn’t. Unless Utterson had been spying on him as he snuck out through the window of his old laboratory—which he had made very sure he had not—Utterson would have had no idea where he now was.

Which left only one option.

“That couldn’t have been him,” he said. “It must have been someone imitating his voice.” But if that was so, that made the message he had received even more disturbing.

It was Griffin’s turn to speak. “Whoever’s voice it was aside,” he said impatiently, “what did he say to you?”

“He—“ Jekyll tried to remember the exact wording. He was still shaken. “He said, ‘Keep your eyes open, Dr. Jekyll. You may be blind, but you will see more than the others can.’” Then he blinked, only then realizing something. “No, that couldn’t have been Utterson! He had never addressed me as ‘doctor’ in my life!”

“‘You will see more than the others can . . .’” Watson muttered. “To me, the message sounds almost like a thinly-veiled threat.”

“Or an omen,” suggested Victor. “Could this have something to do with Hyde, do you think?”

Jekyll hoped not. He was about to voice his concerns when a knocking sounded from the front door. He turned to where he thought the sound was coming from.

“I shall answer it,” the Time Traveller announced, bounding from the sofa and dashing down the hallway (an action that, as Jekyll expected, involved a couple thuds and exclamations of pain as the clumsy inventor collided with various objects lying around the house). From the study, they all could hear his surprised cry upon seeing who was at the door.

“Van Helsing?!”

[starlene]

I wrote a short Jekyll & Hyde the musical fic about the differences between Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde, and about how John Utterson feels about each of them.

Hyde goes to meet Utterson.

Edward Hyde wanted Henry Jekyll gone.

It wasn’t that Hyde didn’t know there were consequences to his actions. It was just that they were someone else’s problem – namely, Jekyll’s. Every time he went back to being Jekyll, the burden of all he’d done became heavier, the fear of being caught more suffocating. And if Henry Jekyll did not exist, Hyde would be forever free of all of that.

It was so much easier being Edward Hyde, because aside from doing whatever it was he wanted, Hyde could also admit things to himself Jekyll was not able to.

Hyde could freely dwell on how he enjoyed the feeling of warm blood running over his hands, while Jekyll’s invariable reaction was to drown the thought into a flood of never agains and not allowed tos. He could admit to himself he loved the sound of bones breaking, and the feeling of other people bending to his will, while Jekyll tried to push the memories away by making as loud a racket in the laboratory as he could.

Hyde could also confess to himself that the thought of marriage terrified him. Being a faithful husband and a father, while there were so many people to meet, so many adventures to be had? A single woman’s company, maybe even women’s company in general, would not be quite enough for him. And Hyde knew there was one man in particular that kept Jekyll awake more often than he cared to admit.

John. Their little experimentation all those years ago had certainly shown Jekyll the attraction was mutual, but in his typical manner, his solution had been to close his eyes and hope it would all go away. It hadn’t, not completely, and Hyde guessed John hadn’t forgotten either. Poor little John, always willing to help, and certainly, had Jekyll ever dared to ask again, willing to do whatever else Jekyll desired.

And in denial, too, with all his talk of Jekyll saving himself from the evil of Hyde.

As if.

Tonight, Edward Hyde decided, the thing he would enjoy the most would be seeing Henry Jekyll’s best friend on his knees in front of him.

~

“You are not welcome here.”

“On the contrary, I think I am.”

“Just… fuck off, will you?”

“Jekyll told me to tell you to let me in.”

“What are you here for?”

“To see you.”

~

John Utterson had let Edward Hyde into his parlor, and now, the two men were sitting on the opposite sides of the room, Hyde staring straight ahead with dark eyes that didn’t seem to focus on anything.

Looking at him, John felt the weirdest mix of disgust and desire to kiss him until those eyes focused on him, until he could see Henry in them instead of the eerie emptiness.

It was like John had always loved Henry. It had been a slow crescendo and a sharp realization, opening his eyes one day and understanding he had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with his best friend.

On most days, it felt like a curse. There was nothing he could do to make Henry love him back, and nothing he could do to stop himself from loving him. Sometimes, weeks or even months went by without a single image of holding Henry in his arms worming its way into John’s conscious mind, enough time for John to think he was free – but in the end, the love and the longing always came back, a constant weight in the back of his mind. It could not be, but for John, there could never be anyone else either.

But now Henry had turned into someone else, someone John didn’t know.

John Utterson had told himself, over and over again, that whatever Edward Hyde was, he was not Henry Jekyll. He was an illness, a demon to be driven out, an evil spirit that took the real Henry away from him. Obviously the monster was a separate soul, one that had possessed Henry’s body. A creature from hell that could be separated and destroyed.

And yet, at the same time, it was him. Looking at the man across the room from him, John could not believe he hadn’t understood the connection the moment he first saw Hyde.

Sure, some things were different. Hyde’s eyes were a lot darker than Henry’s, almost black, his expression distant in a way he had never seen on Henry, and the way he moved… John could not have told anyone how, exactly, Henry Jekyll carried himself, he hadn’t ever had any reason to think about such a thing – but that constant, mercurial movement, that strange slinking way Hyde moved across the room that could hardly be called walking… that was not it.

But, at the same time, his hands, his features, his whole slender body… it was all so obviously Henry. It was him, so clearly him that John felt a cold wave of panic rising inside. Soon, someone else would see it too. And whenever that happened, that body John had so often dreamed of touching would hang on a noose, no matter its current occupant.

Hyde broke the silence.

“Enough of this. John, are you not going to ask me why I have come here to see you?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Maybe not. But I want you to do something for me. Come here.”

“Why?”

“Come here to me now. Close. Closer.”

And maybe John was dreaming again, because suddenly there were hands touching his skin and pulling his hair, and lips on his neck. Henry’s hands. Henry’s lips.

It wasn’t Henry, but it was Henry’s body, and at that very moment, that was quite enough.

~

Afterwards, John had cried. Hyde suspected that was another image Jekyll would not be able to get out of his mind, no matter how hard he would try distracting himself.

All the more reason to get rid of Henry Jekyll for good.

[love-the-purple-cat]

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 8

The following morning he is woken up by knocking on his bedroom door.

“Come in?” It comes out as more of a question than an order. His father never knocks, Yuzu knocks thrice softly, and Karin just yells.

His answer appears in the form of one... Cherī. He seriously didn’t know her surname? How?

“Mornin',” She says, padding into his room. “Scoot over.”

“Why?” He asks, already doing what she said.

“’Cuz,” She plops onto his mattress, trying hard not to let her face touch his pillowcase. “Ah woke up early ta' get ‘ere.”

“Why?” He covers the lower portion of her body with his blanket, making sure that not a centimetre of skin could be seen.

“Get ready an' Ah'll tell ya.” She stretches like a cat, eyes already closed for a short nap.

He huffs but leaves for the bathroom, stopping to tell his father that a friend was in his room. He didn’t want her getting hurt just because of his norm.

Twenty minutes later, Ichigo returns to find that Cherī had covered her entire body and was sleeping with her head angled so that his sheets wouldn’t get dirtied by her makeup. She was also wearing a beanie, stuffed full with her hair. He almost feels bad waking her up.

Almost.

“Wake up, Cherī.” He shakes her shoulder and she groans, swatting and kicking.

“’n‘min’t.” She mumbles.

“We have school, and this is my bed.”

She cracks one eye open. She wasn’t wearing her contacts today. They were a blue so light it reminded him of ice.

 “Our bed.” She says in a tone meant to be a correction.

Ichigo blinks. “No.” He tugs the blanket free from her grasp. “Come one, Yuzu made an extra plate of breakfast for you.”

“Ugh, fiiiine.” She finally stumbles out of bed.

The two make their way downstairs, bookbags in hand and hats on heads. His dad is overdramatic as always and starts bawling at his mother's poster. Cherī shoots Isshin curious and nervous looks. Yuzu and Karin are polite in their own way.

 ——————————

They're two blocks away from his home when Cherī says, “Hey, Ichi. Look.” When he gives her his undivided attention, she takes off the beanie. His jaw drops as she runs her finger through her dyed hair. “Sweet, right? It's Love Letter.” Her eyes are sparkling in the morning light, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Ichigo says nothing, just blinks. It takes a few moments longer for his mouth to start working and ask, “Why?”

She shrugs, “Ah’ve told ya, haven't Ah? Ah've been thinkin’ of dyein' ma' hair fer a while now. Now seems like a good time.” She aims to bump their shoulders but given the fact she's 5’1” with heels and he's 5’9”, she ends up bumping his shoulder with her head and shoulder checking his arm. “It just happens for me ta' dye ma' hair da same day we dyed yers. An' Ah'm sad ta’ say that any attention ya get at school, yer gonna havta share.” She says this in a mockingly sympathetic tone.

He snorts, eyes still not leaving her hair. He reaches out a hand and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. She has a small black heart earring.

“We'll be making quite the impression when we get there.” He says, taking off his own hat and running his fingers through the blue locks.

“Damn rite we will.” She growls. “An' we're gonna own it.”

Ichigo laughs at that.

 ——————————

They certainty made heads turn when they pass the gate. He pays them little mind, too busy listening to Cherī explain how there was no way Jonathan Harker wasn’t at least a little interested in Dracula. She also went on to explain that Henry Jekyll definitely had a crush on his friend Gabriel John Utterson, and that crush was transferred to Mr. Hyde. She then praised the amazing pun of, "If he be Mr. Hyde, I shall be Mr. Seek." Which is an amazing pun.

Before he knows it, they have reached his classroom. He sits on his chair and Cherī sits on his desk, bending and laying her right leg on the surface, not at all bothered by her skirt.

“Ichigo!” Keigo loudly greets, throwing himself at the teen.

Ichigo allows himself to be tackled. That is enough for the brunette to jump back in surprise. His eyes then fall on Cherī who is looking at them curiously.

“Ichigo,” Tatsuki says, eyeing his hair. “You’ve changed your hair.”

He shrugs, a touch amused by their surprise. “Decided that it was time for me to change it. She,” He juts a thumb at the girl sitting on his desk, “Helped.”

The ravenette eyes Cherī, suspicion clear in her eyes. “Arisawa Tatsuki.”

“Akao Cherī.” She chirps back. So that’s her surname.

“So, what brings you here, Cherī?” Tatsuki asks.

“Please call me Akao.” The girl retorts. “I’m explaining to Ichigo the homoerotic undertones in Frankenstein, and how Victor was the reason his whole life burned down. Not because of the creature he created, but because he was too scared to own up to it. The moment it was given life, Victor fled his laboratory, naïvely thinking that it would leave him be, and afterwards started blaming it for the misfortune that struck his life when he himself was to blame.”

There she goes speaking understandably. But she did make a good argument on Frankenstein.

Tatsuki blinks, turning to face him with a questioning gaze.

Ichigo straightens and says, “But how was he to know what was going to happen? Victor didn’t expect for the creature to murder.”

“Yes, but he never actually does anything about it. He only moans and whines about the misfortune. When Justine is accused of murder, instead of making up a believable lie about how he had unintentionally made an enemy who had sworn to kill his family or something like that to save Justine, he just says she's innocence and fucks off. He never takes responsibly for his actions, preferring to blame the creature he had created out of the desire to show that breathing life into a corpse was possible.”

He nods, “True.”

“Well, time for me ta' go.” She jumps off his desk, bypassing his friends and desks for the door. “See ya at lunch, Ichi.” She calls, waving goodbye.

“See you later.” He calls back.

The moment she is out of sight, Keigo turns to him with a wail. “Ichigo! How could you!? You've been keeping a babe like her to yourself only!”

Ichigo glares, “Don’t you dare talk about Cherī like that!” He growls, more venom in his voice than intended. Keigo immediately stops at that, looking a touch scared. Ichigo sighs, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

“You’re awfully protective of her.” Tatsuki states.

“Well, yeah.” Because how could he not be?

“How long have you known her? I haven’t seen her around before.”

The now bluenette leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “Nearly two months.”

“Two months? And we're only learning about her now?” Her brows are nearly touching her hairline.

He shrugs, “She’s in a different class.”

Tatsuki purses her lips but doesn’t say anything.

[melodiouswhite]

Memories of Suffering

(A/N: This is a fic about my Jekyll’s terrible childhood, so trigger warnings: tw: horrific child abuse, tw: terrible parenting, tw: blood, tw: graphic depiction of violence. I’m serious, if you’re a minor and/or this triggers something for you, then don’t read it, because this one is really dark.)

Jekyll feared the worst, when he came to his therapy session and saw Lady Summers' grave expression.

“Don't worry, nothing bad happened”, she assured him. “Nevertheless, we need to talk about something extremely unpleasant today.”

He sighed: “What part in the story of my life will it be today?”

“Your childhood, Doctor.”

Damn right that's extremely unpleasant!

Lady Summers sighed: “Doctor Jekyll, you knew that it was inevitable for me to bring it up sooner or later.”

“I know, I know. But … but it's so hard to even think about it.”

The Prussian's face was sad. “I know. And I understand. But if you talk about it and get it off your chest, it could help you get closure.”

He wanted to talk about it.

He didn't want to talk about it.

He wanted to pour his heart out to her.

He wanted to keep it in, ignore it and never think about it again.

She noticed his affliction and took his hand, gently stroking the palm with her thumb.

“It's alright. If you're not ready to talk about it right now, I'm giving you a few weeks. If you want Mr. Utterson and Dr. Lanyon to be there for support, I will let them know.”

“Thank you, Milady”, he replied warmly. “But … I think …”

“You want to do it now?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?”, she queried.

Another nod.

“Dr. Jekyll, if you don't feel ready, you shouldn't push yourself to speak about it”, she warned.

He took a deep breath and shook his head.  “No. I want to get it over with. Get the worst parts about it off my chest.”

“Really? Are you certain that it won't be too painful now?”

He nodded again.

Lady Summers looked very doubtful (and rightfully so, he knew that), but she respected his decision.

“Alright”, she spoke. “Go on, then.”

Jekyll took a deep breath and began to talk.

Not good enough.

He was never good enough.

His character wasn't good enough.

His behaviour wasn't good enough.

His grades weren't good enough.

His art wasn't good enough.

His piano play, dancing and singing weren't good enough.

His Latin wasn't good enough.

Nothing was good enough.

And if he wasn't good enough, he would be punished.

Even if he hadn't done anything wrong.

Wait, no.

He always did something wrong.

Why else would they hate him so?

This time it was because of a photograph.

His father was not pleased with how he had looked in it.

But just posing for the picture had been a torture for the seven-year-old.

He had tried to look as innocent as possible and pretend not to be in pain.

For a while, things had been surprisingly peaceful, until the photographer had shown them the developed daguerrotype.

His father was looking at the viewer like a poster picture gentleman, while his mother was looking down at her son with wide eyes and he himself was looking at the photographer with an earnestly innocent expression, trying to mask his pain.

James Jekyll had punished both his wife and son.

His wife for the nasty grimace that didn't look at all like a perfect wife and mother was supposed to look like.

His son for “not looking childish and innocent enough”. And for the shivering. He had shivered from fear and pain, because both of his parents had nearly squelched his shoulders.

But trembling wasn't allowed.

Half an hour later Henry's nanny was tending to his bloodied back, while he was crying and whimpering into the pillow.

His father never stopped beating him until his back bled.

“Monsters!”, the elderly woman hissed, “Someone should lock them away and throw away the key!”

But no one would dare to arrest his parents, because they were good and always right, no one would believe him.

For the next weeks he was unable to lie on his back.

Of course his father would slap his sore back, just to hurt him.

But that was fine, because it was normal and he deserved it anyway.

Henry tried not to scream, when his mother pulled him out from under his bed.

But it hurt so much and so he couldn't help but wail, as she pulled him to his feet by the hair.

“YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BRAT!!!”, she screamed, “YOU SINFUL CREATURE! YOU LOWLY SINNER!”

“I'm sorry, Mama”, he sobbed, not knowing what he was apologising for, “I'll never do it again-”

“SILENCE, YOU DEMON!!!”

She struck him across the face.

“YOUR FATHER TOLD YOU TO GET DRESSED UP WITHIN TEN MINUTES EARLIER AND HOW LONG DID YOU NEED?! TWELVE!!!”

“I-I'm sorry, Mama-”

She struck him again.

That was all she ever did, when they weren't in public.

Strike him, pull his hair, scream and throw things at him, lock him into the cellar … just like his father.

“TWELVE MINUTES!!! THAT JUST SHOWS WHAT A TERRIBLE CHILD YOU ARE! WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE A BRAT LIKE YOU?! YOU SPAWN OF SATAN! YOU SPAWN OF POSSESSION! YOU LAZY, DISOBEDIENT, UNRELIABLE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING-”

Someone clearing his throat distracted her.

Arthur Poole was standing in the door, frowning at the scene.

“Your husband is asking for you, Madam”, the butler informed her calmly.

Clara Jekyll huffed, let her son go and stormed out of the nursery.

Henry, now free from his mother's cruel grip, sank to his knees and cried.

Poole took the child in his arms and stroked his head soothingly.

“What a monster”, the man muttered, “Abusing a ten-year-old child like that. You poor, dear boy. You deserve better than this.”

Henry wanted to believe him, he really did.

But he couldn't.

Not when his parents were right and let him know it almost every day.

He was scum and he deserved everything he got.

Sometime later his mother had called him to the parlour and he had already readied himself for a world of hurt.

But when he got there, his mother's face was murderous.

“A little birdie told me that you don't respect the sanctity of marriage”, she snarled and he saw her hand wander to a huge book on the table.

“Is that true, you spawn of Satan? YOU SPAWN OF POSSESSION?!”

“No, Mama-”

“IT IS TRUE!!! I KNEW IT!!! OH, YOU SHOULD BE EXORCISED! IF I COULD I WOULD BANISH YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL!!! BEGONE, SATAN!!!”

Then she threw the book at him.

Henry dodged it and ran for his life, before she could abuse him some more.

When Henry found out that he had … unnatural, sinful desires, his first impulse was to kill himself.

He didn't know how it had happened, but one day he realised that his feelings for his two best friends weren't normal.

Why the hell did he look at them and wanted to do inappropriate things with them?! Why did he want to touch them, kiss them, love them, court them … share his bed with them?!

That was disgusting!

Utterson and Lanyon were his friends and all three of them were boys!

So why the hell was he having these disgusting, sinful desires?!

But he wouldn't give into them.

He would NOT give into them!

When he was sixteen, his parents found out that he had lost his purity a few months earlier.

Their reaction was even worse than he had anticipated.

His mother had screamed at him for hours and slapped him until his cheeks were nearly bleeding.

That was normal so far.

But his father had given him the worst beating of his lifetime, had punched and kicked him in every spot that wasn't his face, until he was lying on the floor, whimpering in pain and spitting blood.

At this point he rarely even heard the terrible things his parents were saying.

But that wasn't even the worst.

He had been bedridden for a week and just begun to get better, when his infuriated mother had dragged him out of bed and into her own room.

At first he had been confused what he was supposed to do here, but then she threw some of her own clothes at him.

“PUT THEM ON, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE WHORE!!!”, she yelled, “SO THAT EVERYONE CAN SEE WHAT A DISGRACEFUL SLUT YOU ARE, LUSTING AFTER WOMEN AND MEN!!! DO IT, YOU DEMON!!!”

He froze in horror.

Then he fell onto his knees and begged: “No! Please, no! Mother, please, don't-”

“DON'T CALL ME MOTHER!!! AN IMMORAL DEMON LIKE YOU ISN'T MY SON!!!”, she shrieked and struck him twice.

Then he had been forced into his mother's evening dress.

The dress was ugly, hardly fit him, the corset was laced so tightly that he could hardly breathe, his mother's shoes were too small for him and he was still sore and in pain from the beating a week earlier.

And that was only a part of the torture.

After breakfast, where his father had just looked at him in disgust, they had paraded him around the small town that was their home.

Had shown him around in a dress so everyone could mock him and laugh at him.

Then they had dragged him home and he had received another vicious beating.

And all of this, just because he wasn't a virgin anymore.

Jekyll stopped.

He couldn't go on any further.

Partly because talking about these memories was becoming too painful, but mainly because he was currently crouched on the floor with Lady Summers, sobbing hysterically into her lap and unable to talk at all.

He felt so dirty and worthless, just when he thought about it all.

He could feel the bruises and the wounds inflicted on his body, hear his mother's furious shrieking, see his father's cruel gaze-

Lady Summers was gently petting his head and back and cooing words of comfort in both English and German.

Lying curled up on the carpet and crying into a noblewoman's black skirt would have been beyond humiliating, if it hadn't been her.

With this lady, it was fine.

Jekyll wasn't quite sure how long he had been crying, before it occurred to him that maybe he should stop and leave, before her next client came.

“Don't worry”, the Prussian assured him, “You're my last client for the afternoon. Cry all you want.”

Her voice sounded strangely hoarse and when he looked up, he was surprised to find that she was crying with him.

“Now that was one hell you went through, wasn't it, Doctor?”, she asked sadly. She cupped his cheek with one tiny hand and stroked it gently, wiping the tears away.

“Oh, my poor, dear friend. Listen, Dr. Jekyll”, she spoke gently, “No matter what your parents told you, you deserved none of this.”

“But … I really am-”

“No. No child deserves to be treated like this, especially not by their parents. And nothing of what they told you is true, never was. You were not a bad child. They were just horrible parents – scratch that, they don't even deserve to be called parents. Parents are supposed to be loving, encouraging and nurturing, not barbarous and abusive like yours. They should have gone to prison for what they did to you.”

“But I'm still a horrible son!”, he sobbed, “Right after my father died … I put my mother into the Bethlem Hospital and told everyone that she had gone mad from grief! She's still there and I never even went to visit her, I-”

Lady Summers raised an eyebrow. “Hush. That doesn't make you a bad son. After her behaviour and all the terrible things she and your father did to you, it was a perfectly human and reasonable thing to do. And I do not say this lightly.”

She continued stroking his cheek and rubbing his shoulders.

Jekyll leaned into her touch. It was so warm and caring.

He wanted more, he needed more, he needed the Lady's mellow lisp to banish his mother's screeching from his head, needed her gentle hands to make him forget his parents' brutal strikes and kicks, needed her tender words to erase his parents' cruel tirades of hatred.

Please give me more, I need more, please give me the motherly warmth I have never known, help me, be there for me, hug me, hold me, dry away my tears, tell me that everything will be fine, pet my chest and my back until I can breathe, please give me warmth, pet my head and stroke my hair, treat me like I'm precious, like I deserve to be cared for by you and the other three, please forgive me for being so childish and needy, I don't deserve you, I'm so sorry, I know that I'm asking for too much from my friends and you're younger than me and far above me, but please, I need it-

“Shhh. It's okay”, she cooed, “You're not below me, you never were. We all ask for too much from our friends sometimes, but right here and now, you're not. Let it all out. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here. Your parents can't hurt you anymore.”

“They can't hurt you anymore.”

For so long his logic had told him this, but it was only when Lady Summers said these words out loud, that he finally was able to believe it.

He looked up to her with a smile. “Thank you”, he croaked. “Thank you so much.”

She smiled back fondly. “Hey now. That's what I do, isn't it?”

“No, seriously. You're … I don't know what I have done to deserve someone like you. Have I ever told you what a wonderful friend you are?”

The tiny Prussian chuckled: “No, Dr. Jekyll. But you can tell me as often as you like.”

“Well, you are. You're an amazing friend. And … thank you for humouring me and Hyde on this. I promise, this is not going to become a habit. I don't see you as a motherly figure, but-”

“I know. And it doesn't matter. It's fine”, she interrupted him gently. “Everything is fine.”

Jekyll leaned into the hand that was running its fingers through his hair. Suddenly, exhaustion settled in with a vengeance.

“I'm so tired …”

“Then sleep”, she cooed. “That couch over there is big enough for you.”

The two stood with some effort (Jekyll helped the Lady up) and she led him over to the couch.

He lay down and covered himself with the blanket.

Then he thought of something.

It was embarrassing to ask – he was fifty years old, not five!

But …

“Of course I will sing that song for you”, Lady Summers laughed kindly.

She sat next to him, took his hand and began to sing softly:

“Guten Abend, gut' Nacht!

Mit Rosen bedacht,

mit Näglein besteckt,

schlupf unter die Deck'!

Morgen früh, wennn Gott will,

wirst du wieder geweckt,

Morgen früh, wenn Gott will,

wirst du wieder geweckt.

Guten Abend, gut' Nacht!

Von Englein bewacht,

die zeigen im Traum

dir Christkindleins Baum.

Schlaf nun selig und süß,

schau im Traum 's Paradies.

Schlaf nun selig und süß,

schau im Traum 's Paradies.“

By the time she was finished, he was sleeping soundly and peacefully.

She sang the song once more, then went upstairs to make a phone call. She had to tell Mr. Utterson to pick up his lover later, after all.

When the black-haired lawyer came to pick his blond lover up, he found him still sleeping on the couch.

Utterson's eyes softened immediately.

“Milady”, he whispered, “I'm afraid I can't find it in my heart to wake him up.”

“Well, I'm not waking him up either”, she whispered back. “You're his sweetheart, you wake him up.”

“No, you wake him up!”

“No, you!”

And this whispered argument continued until the Doctor woke up by himself.

[fox-guardian]

(This ended up being kinda long, but I hope it works. Also, mood.)

"Are you sure you have room for company?" Jekyll asked with a chuckle, glancing around at the four cats spread out around the fireplace. There was a large, grey-blue cat curled up in an armchair; a more slim, orange cat stretching out in front of the unlit logs; a large calico on top of a different armchair; and a long, lean, elegant, black cat sauntering about towards Jekyll as he hung his hat and coat on the stand by the front door.

"Oh, it's just the weather," Utterson replied, giving the calico some welcomed head scritches, "They tend to come by when it gets chilly, like today."

"Chilly is right," said Jekyll, taking off his gloves and rubbing his hands together. He bent down to the black tomcat at his feet, "Isn't it chilly? Isn't it~?" He reached and pet him, and the cat's bright yellow eyes began to close as it leaned into his hand.

Utterson lit the fireplace. "That's Catkyll," he said, glancing back at the black cat, "He showed up recently. A very sweet boy."

"'Catkyll?'" Jekyll inquired, "What sort of a name is that?"

Utterson turned and looked back at him, "It's a play on your name, actually. Cat and Jekyll. Cat-kyll." He picked up a firepoker and sighed, "Not my best work, but I hadn't got much to work with."

Jekyll smiled, tilting his head, "You named him after me? How sweet." He picked up Catkyll with ease, bringing his yellow eyes to meet Jekyll's deep black ones, "Is it because he's such a handsome little man~?" he said with heavy sarcasm.

Utterson chuckled, "Well, there is that, though it was mostly something else." He then sat down on the couch and held up his left hand. "Catkyll?" The cat, currently cradled in Jekyll's arms, turned to him. His eyes went wide and he leapt down from Jekyll's grasp and landed in Utterson's lap. He began making sweet little trilling noises as he wrapped his paws around Utterson's wrist, nuzzling his face into his hand. Whenever Utterson wasn't petting him, he'd whine and wiggle about until he continued. 

Utterson giggled, a wholesome giggle. The kind of giggle that is very clearly from someone who has just been blessed with the antics of a silly little animal and has a quiet but strong appreciation for such moments. 

Jekyll, on the other hand, stood behind the couch, betrayed. How could he, the man Jekyll trusted the most, call him out like this? And through naming his cat after him at that? Such a wholesome gesture, ruined by the fact that it calls unnecessary attention to Jekyll's secret love of hugs. How could he? If anyone knew of this his reputation would surely be beyond repair. He was devastated. He stood behind the couch, staring outward. The kind of empty, distant stare you give to a fixed point on a wall when something embarrassing has just happened and you can't stand to look at anyone.

"I do not act like that," he insisted, finally moving his eyes down to the lawyer, who was now tickling Catkyll's tummy. 

"I know," Utterson replied, sighing "but you do love hugs... And cuddles."

...How dare he.

"Well, I don't whine when I don't get enough hugs."

Utterson turned to look at him and cocked an eyebrow, "Need I remind you-"

"YoU NEED NOT," Jekyll cut him off, aware that he would not win this round. Vengeance was in order. He walked over to the armchair that was being warmed by the big grey cat.

"Well, THIS one reminds me of you."

"Really?" asked Utterson, a tad surprised.

"Mm-hm," he said, confidently. The grey cat lifted its head and looked up at Jekyll with sleepy blue eyes.

"And why does he remind you of me?" asked Utterson, Catkyll still clutching his wrist and purring.

"Well uh..." Jekyll started, unsure of where to actually start, "He has... a very sweet little face. I mean, just look at those cheeks." He then pet said cheeks and the cat let out a low purr as its eyes slowly shut.

"And that reminds you of me?" said Utterson, quizically.

"Uhhmm..." Jekyll's face started to feel warm, he wondered if it had gone visibly red, "...yes?" This was not going as planned. He scooped up the cat in his arms, a very chunky boy indeed. "Not to mention he is quite huggable," he said, leaning into the grey fluff to demonstrate.

Utterson smiled smugly, "How kind of you." He then looked as though he remembered something, "You know, I've actually been meaning to name that one for a while. He doesn't seem to belong to anyone and has been around here quite often."

Jekyll sat down next to him, cradling the grey cat like a baby, "Well, how about... Pawtterson? Like Utterson but a cat pun," he put on an sarcastic smile, "since he reminds me so much of you~"

"Pawtterson..." he pondered aloud, beaming with pride at Jekyll's clever pun that he couldn't bring himself to admit that he had already thought of himself, "That sounds lovely."

They sat in front of the fire, each with a cat bearing a pun of the other's name in their arms, silent and comfortably so. Eventually, Utterson spoke softly, like you do when things just feel too peaceful to disrupt at a normal speaking volume, "I've had this cat -- Pawtterson, that is -- for quite some time. He's very sweet, though a bit lazy. He seems to like you quite a bit."

"Mm," Jekyll responded in a similarly soft tone, although his was more as if he'd started to doze off and simply didn't feel like raising his voice much, "He does, doesn't he?"

Utterson looked at him, "You could take him, if you'd like."

Jekyll turned to him, his voice more awake but still hushed, "Take him? As in... as my own? To keep?"

Utterson turned back to Catkyll, who was stretching his legs out on his lap, "If you'd like to, that is. To keep you company."

"No no no," Jekyll shook his head, turning back to the feline in question, "I don't think I could take care of him well enough. I'm far too busy."

Utterson turned to him again, speaking sincerely, "I'm sure you'd take great care of him, and he'd love you for it."

Jekyll kept his eyes on Pawtterson, "No... I'm no good for him."

Utterson looked down at Catkyll, then back up to his almost-namesake, "Well, my offer stands, and you can come here to see him anytime you like, of course."

He smiled, Pawtterson purring in his arms, "That sounds good.”

The silence returned, peaceful and calm, only the crackling fire and quiet purring could be heard. The two gentlemen fell sound asleep right on that couch, and when they woke later on, the two cats were curled up together in an armchair, sleeping soundly by the fire's warmth.

[saemi-the-writer]

Taming the green-eyed monster

Fandom: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde Sequel to this story

Pairing: Utterson/Jekyll and Utterson/Hyde Warning: Some swearing, mentions of sex

Lady Summers belongs to @melodiouswhite

Summary: Jekyll works to overcome his jealousy, Utterson waits patiently.

“My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.” ― William Shakespeare, “The Taming of the Shrew”

Hyde grunted as he stepped inside the dark room; walking all the way to Utterson’s estate and climbing up had tired him a bit, thus his initial wrath had rather lowered. He leaned on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Edward.”

The “young man” jumped back with a repressed cry before he finally noticed the lawyer. The two stared at each other in a tense silence; Hyde had a hand on his heart, which was beating wildly, while Utterson had his arms crossed over his chest. The only sound resonating in the room now was Hyde’s ragged breath.

“What- How did you know I was coming?” Hyde finally managed to utter.

“Let’s say I had an intuition you would.” Utterson chose not to mention Lanyon’s call, not wanting to spark an argument between the two. “So, I looked out of the window until I saw you sneaking in the garden.”

Hyde grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, still breathing heavily. The lawyer tutted before turning on a lamp; then he pulled out a chair and nodded at the other, a silent offer or order -the little rogue was not sure- to sit down. Whatever it was, he dropped on the seat with a groan.

“Now.” Utterson pulled another chair for himself, joined his hands in front of him and frowned down at the smaller man. “I believe you and I need to talk.”

———————————–

“Darling, what is it?” Mrs Guest asked her husband, half asleep.

Mr Guest had lit a lamp and was checking the window of their bedroom.

“Sorry, my dear.” He said softly after ensuring the window was closed (and locked). “I woke to a strange feeling, as if I was frozen to the bone. I had to check if the window was open.”

His beloved patted the pace next to her and wrapped her arms around him when he joined her back under the covers.

“It must have been a bad dream.” She whispered before falling asleep again.

Mr Guest chose to shove the bad feeling he had out of his mind, but he could not help feeling like someone was really mad at him.

———————————–

“So, it did not end really well.” Lady Summers acknowledged, putting her half-full teacup on its saucer.

Jekyll gloomily sipped on his tea in response. The therapist could hear his intern mutterings and would have found them amusing, had his jealousy not been so inappropriate.

“He threw his old copy of Othello in Hyde’s- in my face” his grip on the teacup tightened, worrying her that he would break it (he’d better not!) “and ordered me to read it carefully before we see each other again.”

“He did not throw it to your face.” the blonde woman corrected immediately; she knew it for she had watched the scene replaying in his mind.

Seeing that the argument was going round and round, Utterson had taken the book -which he had been keeping close the whole time apparently- and gave Hyde a small whack on the forehead with it.

“Read it.” The lawyer’s voice was ice cold. “Either as Edward or Henry, read it carefully before you eventually revisit me. Or even talk to me. Now get out.”

Then before Hyde’s outrage expression, he had pointed at the still opened window.

“It’s almost the same!” the doctor exclaimed. “I can’t believe him!”

“Had I known this Guest’s address; I would have broken one of his windows!” Hyde’s voice raised in the man’s head.

Lady Summers frowned and got up from her rocking chair.

“Good thing you did not, then.” her tone hardened. “Are you aware that Utterson’s trust in you would have been severely damaged, had you done that?” Jekyll froze and stared at her with wide eyes. “Of course, he would have known about it sooner or later and put two and two together! Do you think of he’s an idiot? Don’t even answer.”

The Lady walked to him and stopped in front of him, her ice-blue eyes glaring down at the doctor.

“Your relationship could have even been broken because of that, Jekyll, Hyde. If you can go and do such things in a jealous rage -and an inconvenient one, may I add- then you don’t respect Utterson as a person.”

“I do!” Jekyll cried out, his face as white as a sheet.

“Then why were you thinking about hurting, or causing any property damage to someone he cares about? Do you also plan to make him choose between Mr Guest and you? Then why don’t you just put him inside a cage to keep him all to yourself, at your beck and call?”

When Jekyll’s eyes started to fill with tears, Lady Summers knew she was on the good track. She needed to push him this way so he would step out of this downward spiral on his own. She knew why Jekyll felt the need to feel “chosen” above someone else, where his feeling of betrayal came from; and that, deep down, Hyde’s furious outburst were only a manifestation of that trauma along with Jekyll’s deep lack of both self-confidence and self-esteem. Utterson was aware of that, and it hurt him, it was always very affecting to see someone you love clinging to both their misery and past, locking themselves into their insecurities and refusing to see themselves as they truly were.

Another sharp comment and the man started wailing, letting out all his anguish and self-doubt out. Lady Summers sat down next to him and invited him to cry in her laps; caressing his soft hair to soothe him as he did.

———————————–

Lanyon let go of his friend to let him wipe at his eyes, holding his monocle for him as he did. Utterson offered him a small smile and thanked him once he had put his handkerchief down.

“Forgive me, I did not mean for you to be there to comfort me when I invited you.” The lawyer said, putting his monocle back on his right eye.

“Nonsense.” Lanyon poured them both more tea. “It is only fair that I am here for you after what happened. I owe you that, for all those times you listened to me.”

Utterson had always been the mediator between the two doctors when they argued, since their schooldays; sometimes even being the messenger between the two of them, always standing in the middle, as if caught into a crossfire.

Lanyon now fully realized how hard it must have been for Utterson back then. He was not sure if he felt more admiration or guilt towards him, for all the arguments he had got him involved in.

Utterson stared thoughtfully at his cup of tea before speaking again.

“I just wish he could see how far he has come.” a sigh escaped his lips. “It seems like I don’t show him enough appreciation; I know I am not the most demonstrative, but I thought he had come to understand my way of showing affection…”

“He must stop going from one extreme to another.” Lanyon pointed out, stirring some sugar in his tea. “As you said, he had come so far -the two of you had- you should not have to constantly prove your love to him after everything that happened! Needing some reassurance now and then is one thing, but this whole charade!”

Utterson drank slowly his tea, his friend’s words sinking him and bringing some comfort.

“I know he must take the first step to reconcile this time.” He whispered loud enough for Lanyon to hear. “But I miss him. Either as Henry or Edward…”

“And it’s alright.” His friend offered him a kind smile as he squeezed his shoulder.

“And it’s not like I have never been jealous over him.”

Lanyon looked at the lawyer incredulously, barely believing what he heard.

“Well, at least you were discreet when you were!” he laughed awkwardly.

This got Utterson to smile, before he started recounting his misadventure with that feeling.

———————————–

The book was extremely well-worn, eventually dog-eared, it was obvious Utterson had read it many times. Jekyll gently flipped through it and quickly noticed it was heavily annotated; the name of some characters was underlined, some stage directions added or removed, and parts of some soliloquies were underlined as well.

Upon closer reading, he noticed Utterson had not just taken some notes for an eventual acting, he was also commenting some sentences and…

There was a letter hidden in the pages. It was as old as the book itself, and it was addressed to him?

Jekyll blinked in confusion and quickly opened the envelope.

———————————–

Utterson sighed as he re-read the old letter hidden in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”.

I was literally desperate at the time.

Maybe he was being hard on himself, the letter itself was not that horrible but it was painful for him to read. Looking back, the year when he turned 17 had been the worst year of his life; not only had he been going through an identity crisis and realized he was in love with Henry… his mother died. Although he had been surrounded by his family and friends, it was the loneliest time of Utterson’s life. Feeling alone in the crowd, being struck by loneliness in the centre of the scene… Utterson shook his head, now was not the time to dwell.

Oh, this rhyme is quite good, I didn’t remember it.

He had written several letters to Henry at that time; letters that he had never meant to send to him, hidden -as if sealed- into his old drama texts, buried under all his legal documents and records. Othello contained the one where he had expressed all his passion and jealousy. He had not dared re-read it, remembering all too well in what state he had written it. A small snort escaped him as he recalled Lanyon’s expression when he confessed him that, and how he had believed his two friends had been lovers back then.

———————————–

Lucy stared at her odd friend in concern; Hyde had ordered a drink and had yet to touch it, the brunette merely twirled the liquid in his glass, staring into space. But more surprising: he had not tried to pick a fight! Usually, he was either drinking and chatting with her and some of the girls or blowing off some steam by fighting with other clients -or the barman, depending on his mood.

“Hey.” He uttered, at last. “When you quarrel with your special other because you acted overly jealous, how do you reconcile?”

The prostitute’s eyes widened, then a smile appeared on her face. So, that was the problem! She sat closer to him before she started listing what she would do in a similar situation (it never happened) or what she would like to see her beloved do for her.

“But you know your ‘special other’ better than me, so you should know what would please him.” Lucy tapped her finger playfully on his nose. “The first step is always the most difficult to take; and since you’re the one who started the whole ordeal, do us a favour: put your pride asides and go apologize.”

Hyde huffed and looked away from the brown-haired woman.

“Oh my God, this guy is going to get himself killed!”

The two brunettes turned to see what the other prostitute meant, and Hyde froze.

What is Guest doing here?

———————————–

“Finally!” Hyde breathed and let himself fall into Lanyon’s couch. “I can’t believe I had almost the whole family hanging on my coattail!”

“You did not have Mrs Guest on the phone.” Lanyon pointed out, rubbing his right ear. “And stop complaining! It is perfectly comprehensible that Mr Guest’s family would get worried in such circumstances.”

“His son was literally clinging to me and whining during the whole consultation, and he was not even the one injured!”

Lanyon chuckled. When he had got out of the examination room to tell Mr Guest’s son - Terrence if he recalled – he could go see his father; he had found the young man holding onto Hyde like a koala to its branch. He had almost burst out laughing at his friend’s expression, silently calling him out for help while the younger man was wailing, feeling guilty for the previous events.

“At least, Lucy got somewhere better to spend the night than her old cabin or the brothel…”

Hyde startled when the bearded doctor took his left hand to examine it.

“You should have told me it was bruised.” Lanyon glared at him before searching for his medical kit. “How are you supposed to take care of your patients tomorrow if you are hurt?”

“Jekyll can manage.” The brunette rolled his eyes but let the other treat him.

“You did well.” Lanyon uttered after a long moment of silence, Hyde blinked and stared at him in confusion. “Utterson will be proud when he hears that.”

“I-I did not do it get back on his good side!” Hyde stammered, frowning both in concern and annoyance.

“I know that, Mr Guest, Terrence and Miss Lucy explained me everything.” the doctor had a wry smile while he was tidying up his tools. “And hearing how Mrs Guest was being vocal about filing a complaint, our Utterson is likely to learn about this case first thing in the morning.”

Hyde leant against the armrest, burying his face in arms with a low hum. He did want to reconcile with Gabriel as soon as possible, this week has seemed endless, but not this way. Yes, being a hero in his beloved’s eyes sounded delightful, he could not deny it; but he was afraid it might seem to be a cheap manoeuvre to get what he wanted.

Was it what he thought, or was it Jekyll?... Whatever. He was not in the mood for games.

His fingers gently brushed his overcoat, Utterson’s letter was hidden in its inside pocket.

Then, as if stricken by thunder, Hyde got up; startling Lanyon.

“Hastie, do you by any chance have a book of herbology and one of floriography?”

The divided man spent the rest of the night drawing, turning back to his usual form to write a letter to go with the picture. Once sealed, Jekyll held the envelop against his chest before handing it to his butler, instructing him to deliver it personally to his (beloved) lawyer.

———————————–

Utterson gathered his papers, putting them into a folder, before walking Mrs Guest out of his office.

“I will do everything I can, Alathea.” He assured gravely. “What was done to Ethan and what was meant to happen to Terrence will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.” Mrs Guest’s eyes gleamed with angry tears, she quickly wiped them away with her handkerchief before offering the lawyer a small smile. “The dinner of tomorrow is not cancelled, by the way. Your presence would be much appreciated.”

“I would not miss it for anything in the world.” Utterson smiled back.

As he welcomed his next client, his gaze rested for a second on the letter Poole had given him early in the morning. He discreetly hid it before he brought his attention back to his client.

It was only when lunchtime came that the occasion arose, Utterson locked himself in his office, asking not to be disturbed, and quickly opened it.

The letter was probably the most poignant and sincere one Jekyll had ever written him, there were no promises, no attempt at justifying himself; only the expression of his regret and his ardent love for him. The fact that he mentioned Utterson’s letter and the copy of Othello moved the lawyer, so his words did reach him!

Then, there was the drawing.

It was a bouquet of flowers, since Jekyll could not offer him one openly, he had chosen to draw it for him. One that would never wither. Utterson found it very heart-warming.

A big blue iris and a white peony surrounded by several white garden arabises and light pink hawthorns.

The iris announced a message, but it could also mean “I am ready to do anything to prove my love”; the peony to express modesty and shame, then the hawthorns for hope and garden arabises for reconciliation.

How lovely.

Then, he noticed four orchids at the bottom of the page.

Utterson smiled fondly, orchids meant you were in the person’s thoughts, and the white ones specified pure love – similar to a white rose, most of times…

Wait.

Four orchids. White, yellow, pink and finally red.

Utterson’s cheeks glowed so red one could think he had a high fever.

This is Edward’s doing, I’m sure of it!!

He shook his head and quickly folded the drawing again, hiding it from his sight with a tut. But then he paused, unsure.

“Why would you not give him what he is asking for?” a mischievous voice resounded in his mind.

Before he knew it, a cheeky smile had made its way on his face.

———————————–

Jekyll was not sure what to make of Lady Summers wry smile; she had acted a bit off ever since she had to excuse herself from the lounge for a moment. And now, she was whispering into Lanyon’s ear; the doctor could not watch them more as one of his other guests was talking to him.

And it went on, the two (lovebirds) kept exchanging knowing gazes and laughed into their sleeves (for Lanyon) and fan (for Lady Summers). Jekyll felt his eye twitch when they only chuckled after he asked what was going on.

“What are they up to?!” Hyde huffed. “I hate it when people do that! Are they trying to trick us?”

“So do I.” Jekyll answered mentally, aware that the blonde woman was probably listening to their conversation. “I have no idea what is going on, but I trust they won’t trick us… not too bad.”

The night ended peacefully; all the guests were on their way back home. After thanking him for the dinner, Lady Summers leant in and told him in a low voice:

“Do not take too long to go to bed, my friend. You deserve some rest.”

Jekyll blinked, not sure if he was more confused than grateful for her caring. His old friend gave him a light slap on the back with an enthusiastic “good night, old chap!” before escorting the Lady out.

The blonde doctor stared at their carriage until it was out of sight, still baffled.

“Well, you might as well go to bed.” Hyde commented, shrugging in his shadow form. “I want to be in good shape tomorrow night.”

“You got some plans?” Jekyll raised an eyebrow at him.

Hyde evaded the issue, which annoyed him; he threatened to prevent him to go out unless he told him exactly what he had in mind. The two internally bickered until Jekyll reached his room. The doctor bid good-night to his butler before entering; he closed the door and was about to continue his argument with his alter-ego when an arm wrapped itself around his waist from behind.

A hand was pressed to his mouth as he cried out in alarm; Jekyll felt his heartbeat accelerating considerably in panic before a familiar scent reached his nose.

“I’ve got you, my Apollo. Or should I call you my Othello?”

The hand let go of his mouth -Jekyll gasped as it did- to caress his lower lip with the tip of its fingers and gently seized his chin to turn his head around.

“Gabe!” Jekyll exclaimed in relief.

“Mister Seek!” Hyde cheered in the highest pitch voice the doctor had ever heard him, it was quite embarrassing honestly.

“But how?” he was shortly interrupted by a kiss.

“You’re not the only one to know how to sneak around, you know?” Utterson smirked before kissing him again, on his cheek this time.

Jekyll felt himself melt like butter into the lawyer arms and clung to his neck after turning around for a proper kiss. The temperature of the room increased quickly while more kisses were shared, each one more passionate than the previous.

“Thank you for having come to the aid of Guest, the other night.” Gabriel muttered between two kisses. “And for the flowers and your letter, they were lovely.”

The two cravats were quickly undone, both men could breathe more easily once their stiff collars were out of the way.

“I am sorry about my attitude last week.” Jekyll panted. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I know.” The brown-haired man paused and took his lover’s face into his hands, his thumbs caressing the other’s cheeks. “I’ve missed you too. And I admit that I have been longing for your presence at night as well.” Jekyll felt himself grinning like a fool at that. “So, I could not resist to your second invitation. I came here as soon as the dinner at Guest was over.”

“I’m glad you- wait, what second invitation??”

“The orchids, Henry.” Gabriel chuckled and breathed into his ear. “The yellow orchid means the warmth of love along erotism” the blonde man froze. “the pink one for sensual seduction and the red one expresses the desire to make love.”

Henry’s skin was now burning hot.

“EDWARD WHAT THE HELL!!!”

“Complaining, complaining! If you’re not happy then step aside!! I want him bad!!”

“This is out of question!! First come, first-served basis!!”

“Henry, are you and Edward arguing again?” Utterson tutted.

“Nevermind!” Jekyll kissed him fiercely, his hands gripping his lover’s shirt. “Rip those clothes off me, Gabriel!”

The doctor yelped when Utterson truly ripped his shirt open, then seized his two hands and tied his wrists together with his own cravat.

“Now behave.” The lawyer’s eyes were now smoky with desire, his voice setting his lover even more aflame.

When the sun raised in the rarely clear sky, Jekyll was snuggled up to his beloved in bed, breathing heavily and not feeling his legs anymore.

[unstiteo-blog]

100 Lessons in Life.

(Summary: this is a story about a young Gabriel "John" Utterson and his life growing up with his family, along with the struggles he faces while the others try to figure out what troubles him.)

Chapter I: Lesson One

The blinding rays of sunlight washed over my eyes, begging I rise from my bed. It was clear they would not leave me alone until I did. With a quiet groan, I sat up, rub my eyes with my fists, rested my glasses on my face, and left my room for breakfast. I’m not surprised to see my sisters up and helping our father prepare the meals. They are nearly finished. I take my usual seat at the table, sit straight, and yawn. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” says my father. “You're usually up earlier than this.”

“I'm aware. I apologise for my tardiness, father.”

My father said nothing. He served me my food, ruffled my hair, and smiled at me. “No, no, son. You say, ‘thank you for waiting for me.’ It lets people know you are grateful for their patience.”

“Oh.” That actually did sound better than what I said. How did my father come to be so wise? “In that case, thank you for waiting for me.”

“You're very welcome.” He kissed my head, watched my sisters take their seats, and served their plates with that smile of his. “Why are you up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept tossing and turning.”

“Was it a nightmare?” immediately asks my eldest sister, Sienna. I refer to her as Rosey, Rosey dear, or Rose, depending on the time of day. Naturally she would ask that sort of question; she has this tendency to take on the responsibilities of an adult but forgets she is a child, that we are all children who would like to spend time with her. “Were you overthinking again?”

“Again?” I ask, almost offended. “When have I overthought anything?”

“Kid's got a point,” speaks up Zara, who is halfway finished with her meal. No doubt because she wolfed it down like she always does. “If anything, he underthinks.”

“That's not even a word,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. “I just haven’t caught myself overthinking, that’s all.”

“Well,” quietly says Luna, who has more maturity than Zara since she was born after Sienna, “just because you haven’t noticed it doesn’t mean we haven’t. You’re not very good at hiding your emotions.”

Emotions? What emotions? I don’t feel anything! This is preposterous. Father sat at the far end of the table and gave me a worried look, which fills me with dread, but said nothing. I suppose it’s because he knows he can get me to crack with one look alone. “Thank you for the food,” I say, deflated. I suppose I have been overthinking, but not about me.

About them.

My family is very…different from me. If you saw us, you would most certainly not think we were related. I’m the only one who is much, much lighter than them to put it to you shortly. As of late, I’ve been hearing children my age speak ill of my sisters and my father. They say such terrible, abhorrent things that I shan’t repeat—I’m better than that. It concerns how I was born, for the most part, but I already know I wasn’t born under the best circumstances. It’s knowing strangers don’t like them because of me.

I feel like a burden.

But I can’t tell them that. Such matters cannot be changed, and such ignorance can only be helped with the help of miracles. Even so, why does it feel like a knife is piercing through my chest when I think of my mother? She left me; she didn’t want me. It hurts, but I find it in my heart to pity her. My father, Rosey, Lulu, and Zizi are the most kind-hearted and loyal people I've ever met. She could’ve had something nice but avoided it because of me.

I did that.

“Jack. Jack,” eventually cuts in my father. I notice Sienna has been shaking me—how long has she been doing that? “Are you there?”

“What? Huh?” Oh…perhaps not the best response I could’ve given at a time like this. My father frowns.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Oh, forgive me,” I pick at my food and start to eat. I can’t help but notice the others have lost their appetite. “I mean, thank you for assisting in my recovery. Who was speaking?”

“I was talking about how you have this tendency to dodge anything that concerns you,” says Luna. “You always put others before yourself.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all. I’m a very selfish person, Lulu.”

“There you go again, dodging my point. You are not, and you know you're not. You're a hermit at best.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You should listen to your sister, Jack,” interrupts my father, his voice soft and soothing. I don’t want to admit it, but it does help me relax a little. “She’s always been very talented at reading people, especially her younger brother.”

Drat. That she has. I would look like a fool to turn her away.

“Very well,” I sigh, picking at my food again. “Only because I am outmatched.”

“John-John,” says Sienna, whose arms are now draped over my shoulders, “never forget that the worst thing you can do to yourself in a time of need is to stay silent on the matter.”

“Closed mouths do not get fed,” advises Luna.

“Reaching out doesn’t make you weak,” says Zara. Our father reaches over to hold my hand. He squeezes it firmly.

“We love you, my boy. Do not forget that.”

My hands were ice cold. Sienna pecked my forehead, Luna clung to my arm, and Zara approaches me only to lightly punch me in my [unoccupied] arm. It made me grin.

After that, we continued eating breakfast together, talking and laughing as if none of that happened. Something is wrong with me, we’ve noticed, but I don’t let it prevent me from enjoying my days with my loved ones. Furthermore, I have much studying to do if I wish to become a lawyer someday. I can’t allow the past to consume my thoughts.

The day continued on as normal. Father went to work, our nanny looked out after us, I stayed in father's office to read his books on law. It was obvious he wanted to be a lawyer more than anything, but his job was what kept a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, and provided us with clothing. He was afraid to quit if it meant sacrificing what kept our needs in check. If he quit now and failed to become a lawyer, what happens to us?

I suppose I'd always felt responsible to become a lawyer if we plummet into an unfortunate ending. Much to my surprise, it appears being a lawyer is rather interesting. There is much arguing involved, and you can imagine that's a hobby of mine with three sisters.

I don’t exactly know when I took a break from studying, but I do know I decided to take a break and read one of father's books for fun, but it must’ve taken up the entire day since—

Knock, knock, knock.

Speak of the devil.

There he stood in the doorway, a faint smile on his face. “The girls told me they hadn’t seen you all day. I figured you’d be in here.”

“Am I truly that predictable?”

“A bit, yes. But I’m grateful to know you’re safe.”

“Where else would I turn?”

He didn’t reply. He sat next to me, glanced at the sea of scattered books on the floorboards, then he turned to look at me. “Jack, may we talk about earlier today?”

Blasted. “What…what happened earlier today?”

Father frowned. “Jack…”

“You just got back from work. I don’t wish to bother you.”

“You could never. I love you and the moments we spend together. Knowing you are suffering bothers me more than anything.”

“It happens all the time, you know that.”

“Yes, I do. And I get more concerned the more it occurs. What have I always told you?”

I paused for a moment. “Never eat before retiring to bed?”

Father laughed. “Good guess, but no.”

“Pet all the dogs you meet on the street?”

“You’re more of a cat person, aren’t you?”

“Get enough sleep?”

“Have you been getting enough sleep? You did mention you were tossing and turning the night before.”

I shift uneasily. There’s a question I didn’t want to answer. I look at my hands, avoiding eye contact, and shake my head. “My head is too loud sometimes. The thoughts I have, whether I’m alone or with family, blind me from reality. It’s like someone plunged me underwater and they’re trying to talk to me—I can’t hear them properly.”

There’s silence for a moment. Oh God, what did I do? This was my fault. I never should’ve opened up. Now he thinks I’ve gone mad. He’s going to call me looney for feeling like this, I know it.

I feel father’s arms pull me in for a hug. Instinctively, I hide away in his chest, safe from this cruel world. What’s this? He isn’t angry with me? “Jack,” says he, “you should’ve told me sooner. I’m not scolding you for bottling such feelings up, but I know that it must be even more frightening thinking you’re enduring this alone—you feel like you’re insane.”

Aren’t I?

“But you’re not insane,” he continues. “You're simply hurting, and everybody hurts once in a while. We all hurt in different ways. Please, Jack, tell us when you need us. We will always be right there to help you.”

I think tears started to leak from my eyes, but I had them screwed too tightly to tell. Father rubbed my back and hushed me, not seeming too alarmed by my state. “That’s all right, Jack. Let everything out. It’s okay to cry if you’re feeling upset.”

At that, I cried harder. I didn’t mean to! It was comforting to know he didn’t dare let go. Eventually, my crying session came to an end, and I pulled away from father to wipe my eyes. “Hey,” says he, “how are you feeling?”

“To tell you the full truth, I'm tired. But I do feel better.”

“Let’s get you to bed then.”

He picked me up—despite my resistance—and carried me to bed. He pulled the blanket over me, pressed a goodnight kiss to my forehead, and smiled at me. “Do you need anything?”

I think for a moment. “A little glass of water, please.”

“Of course. Water is a necessity, drink plenty of water.”

As soon as he left, however, I dozed off. I was utterly exhausted.

[mindfulwrath]

Silver, Part VI

This show’s gone to the dogs!

Words: 3,771 Warnings: Alcohol (ab)use, bad life choices, manipulation

Part I Part V

The man who answered the door for Rachel had the most immaculate eyebrow-raise she had ever seen on a person.

"Yes?" he said.

"Er," said Rachel. "Is Dr. Lanyon in?"

"He is," the butler admitted, begrudgingly. "Who shall I say is calling?"

"It's Rachel Pidgley," she said. "From the Society. And if it helps, it's about Dr. Henry Jekyll."

Again, that absolutely flawless eyebrow raise.

"I shall inquire," said the butler, and shut the door in her face.

Rachel stood on the doorstep for what felt like hours, fidgeting and stamping against the cold. She was a bit concerned the peelers might pick her up for loitering—she was incongruous enough, in this shiny, white-painted neighborhood, where all the houses stood like false teeth, ivory and flawless. She'd never been to visit Lanyon before, although she had met him once or twice. His house was more like a manor than anything. She felt she ought to have had a bath before coming.

At long last, the door opened again.

"Dr. Lanyon will see you in the parlor, Miss Pidgley," the butler announced.

"Thank you," Rachel said. He admitted her, and led her through a foyer nearly as big as the Society's. The parlor, too, was large, although there was a cheery fire burning in the grate. There were all sorts of shiny knick-knacks displayed tastefully around the room. Dr. Lanyon was there, stiff and proper, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Miss Pidgley, sir," the butler said, and evanesced out of the room.

"Good morning, Miss Pidgley," Dr. Lanyon said. He did not sit down, nor did he offer her a chair. "To what do I owe the honor? You said it was about Jekyll."

"Well," said Rachel, fidgeting. She looked at her shoes and had a sudden attack of embarrassment. She'd probably tracked dirt all over the floors already. "In a sort of roundabout way, yes."

"Do tell," said Lanyon.

Rachel cleared her throat.

"Er," she said, "it's just that, well, you're his friend, and you're good at getting him to sort of see sense, and. . . ."

"And?"

"And I might have slapped him and quit my job yesterday but I do sort of really need that job and I'd really appreciate it if you could try and make sure he won't throw me out when I come back asking for it on account of I slapped him."

Lanyon blinked at her.

"Dare I ask what he did to incur your wrath?" he asked.

"Have you got to?"

"I feel as though it might be relevant to the situation."

"It's a bit personal."

"One would think."

"I really shouldn't say. It's very private, for him and me both."

"Could one say this assault was justified?"

"I mean," said Rachel, "from my perspective, yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't've done it. You'd have to ask him if you want his side."

"I doubt I would get it," Lanyon muttered. Rachel pretended she hadn't heard. He went on, in a clearer tone, "I'll see what I can do."

"You will?" she said. "Oh, thank you so much, you've no idea how much this means to me, if there's anything I can do—"

"Yes yes, et cetera," said Lanyon, waving a dismissive hand. "As I recall, you've been integral to the success of the Society thus far, and at this juncture, we can't afford to lose anybody. I'll speak with Dr. Jekyll on your behalf as soon as I'm able."

"Thank you," Rachel said again. She bobbed a little curtsey, because it felt appropriate. "I'll stop taking up your time. Honestly, though, thank you."

"Very good, off you go," he said, already turning away. Rachel started back towards the door when he added, in a very different tone, "Actually."

She turned. "Yes?"

Lanyon was contemplating the fire, his mouth pulled to one side, his brow furrowed.

"There is something you could do for me," he said slowly.

"What is it?" said Rachel, intrigued despite herself.

"You're acquainted with Mr. Edward Hyde, are you not?" he said.

"As much as anyone is," said Rachel.

"Do you . . . like him?"

"Do I—sorry, do I what?"

"Do you like him, Miss Pidgley," Lanyon said, turning to her. "Do you find him to be a pleasant person. Do you enjoy his company. Do you wish him well in his endeavors. Do you like him."

"He's all right," said Rachel, growing more suspicious with every word. "Why?"

"Because I have reason to believe that Dr. Jekyll's recent, ah, dramatic shifts in priority and personality are inextricably tied to Mr. Hyde," said Lanyon. "Perhaps including whatever it is he did to earn your ire. Simply put, Miss Pidgley, Hyde is bad for Henry, but I'm having a devil of a time convincing Henry of that."

"So what d'you want me to do?"

"If you could," said Lanyon, "I would ask that you speak with Mr. Hyde about it. If you are on friendly terms with him, perhaps you can convince him to leave Jekyll be. If not, perhaps you could send him my way, and I can convince him. I've been trying to get hold of him for several days. He is not easy to find."

"You're not going to have him roughed up or anything, are you?" she asked, squinting at him.

"Good heavens, no, what do you take me for?" Lanyon said, pressing an offended hand to his bosom. "I simply want an opportunity to speak with the man."

"Well," said Rachel. "All right. Next time I see him, I'll have a go."

"Thank you so much, Miss Pidgley," said Lanyon. "It's a great help. Good morning."

"Good morning," said Rachel. Finding herself summarily dismissed, she left the house without waiting to be shown out. As she walked back towards the Society, she wondered what she could possibly say to Hyde to pry him off of Jekyll.

Mentioning that Jekyll had been kissing other people might be a good start. Hyde certainly seemed the jealous type—impetuous, vain, prone to fits of anger—but then again, he'd also never shown any genuine regard for Jekyll. At best, he'd talked about the doctor with a kind of indifferent scorn. Most times, he didn't talk about Jekyll at all.

Which, now that she thought about it, was rather incongruous to Hyde's entire demeanor. She would have expected him to gleefully dish out all the embarrassing secrets about Jekyll that he possibly could, simply for the pleasure of annoying him—but no, even if Jekyll was brought up naturally in conversation, Hyde would roll his eyes and whine and sidetrack until the topic was changed to his satisfaction. He certainly wasn't the sort to be ashamed of himself, so why then would he so stringently avoid talking about his—for lack of a better word—partner?

Rachel wondered, with a squirming of the skin, if Lanyon might be on to something.

Utterson looked down at the document on the table. He frowned.

"A will?" he said.

"Yes, Gabriel, it's a will," said Jekyll, with the air of a man who had been tending to stubborn children all day. Utterson turned the frown on him.

"Why?" he asked.

"The usual reasons," said Jekyll, rolling his eyes. "Look, I don't expect anything to happen to me, but in the event that something does, I'd prefer to be prepared. Things have been significantly more dangerous than usual, and I should hate to leave anyone with a mess."

"Henry, if there's something—"

"There's nothing, Gabriel," Jekyll assured him, before he could even get his sentence all the way out. "I promise you. It's strictly precautionary. I only need you to ensure it's fully legal. And, if you wouldn't mind, take charge of it for me. The last thing I want is for it and me to go up in the same blaze, hah hah."

Utterson pursed his lips, tickling his nose with his mustache.

"Henry," he said again, "if there's something wrong, I think you'd better tell me."

Jekyll deflated. He rubbed his face. When he took his hand away, he looked five years older.

"So many things," he said, shaking his head. He glanced at Utterson and added, "All of which you already know about, and you're doing all you can. I do appreciate it. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Utterson chewed on this for a moment, then nodded.

"If ever something comes up—"

"You'll be the first to know," Jekyll promised.

That settled, Utterson turned back to the will. It was brief, for the most part fairly standard stuff—upon his death, everything was to be left to the Society, save for his notes, which were to go to Lanyon to be destroyed or preserved at his discretion. There was, however, a point that stuck in Utterson's teeth.

In the event of the disappearance of Dr. Henry Jekyll, his estate and his position at the Society for Arcane Sciences shall be given in full to Mr. Edward Hyde.

Utterson stared at this clause for a good two minutes, rolling it about in his mind. He was aware of Jekyll watching him, aware of the other man's patience growing thinner. He kept quiet, waiting, waiting. . . .

"Is there a problem?" Jekyll asked at last.

"I don't believe I'm the one to judge that," Utterson said slowly. He laid the will down on the desk and met Jekyll's eyes. Jekyll shrank from him, ever so slightly, and Utterson knew, with absolute conviction, that Jekyll was lying to him.

"I know it's irregular," Jekyll said, pacifying, "but I do believe it's for the best."

"Has Mr. Hyde been informed of this particular clause?" Utterson asked.

"Yes, of course," said Jekyll.

"In the presence of a lawyer?"

"That seems entirely unnecessary. Gabriel, what are you getting at? Because I know you're rumbling your way round to something or other."

"Hm," said Utterson, embarrassed. He pursed his lips and looked anywhere but at Jekyll. "Well. It's this way."

"Yes?"

"It's a damnably dangerous thing to put in a will."

"Oh come now, you don't think he's going to murder me?"

"I dislike the man—"

"Immensely, Henry, yes, so you've said," Jekyll said, exasperated. "I don't know why we must keep going through this. Mr. Hyde is as trustworthy as he needs to be, and if he ceases to be, I can and will be rid of him without so much as batting an eye! You don't have to like the man, and you don't have to trust him, but at least trust me, would you? It's beginning to get insulting."

Heat rose to Utterson's cheeks, and he could only mutter and mumble until Jekyll reached across the desk and patted his arm.

"I understand you're only looking out for me," Jekyll said. "Please understand that just this once, I don't actually need looking-after, no matter what Lanyon has led you to believe."

"It's very little to do with Lanyon," Utterson said.

"Is it?" said Jekyll. "Is it, really?"

"You're concerning enough in your own right," Utterson said. Jekyll laughed.

"I suppose I am," he said. "Will you sign off on it, Gabriel? Despite its irregularities, despite your concern? I know I've asked you for too many favors already—"

Utterson waved him off.

"Yes, yes, it's all perfectly legal," he said. "But I must ask you, for legal purposes: did you write this will under duress from any other party?"

"No," said Jekyll. "But thank you for asking."

"And are you of sound mind and body?" he asked.

"One would think you could judge that for yourself," Jekyll said.

He mustered himself and met Jekyll's eyes again, and again saw that nigh imperceptible flinch.

"For legal purposes," he said.

"Yes, then," said Jekyll, holding his gaze. "Yes, I am of sound mind and body."

"Hm," said Utterson. He signed the bottom of the will, permanently affirming its legality. Jekyll took it and folded it and placed it in an envelope, which he then passed back to Utterson.

"I do appreciate this," he said. "I know it's awfully busy for the both of us just now, but I felt it best not to take chances on having spare time, hah hah."

"Hm," Utterson said again. He picked up his hat and got to his feet. "I shall take it straight home and put it in my safe."

"Thank you," Jekyll said, rising as well. He shook Utterson's hand and then escorted him to the door. They said their goodbyes, and Utterson took his leave.

The will was burning through his hand before he'd gone a block. By the time he got all the way back home, he could no more have left it in its envelope than he could have commanded his heart to stop beating.

In the event of the disappearance of Dr. Henry Jekyll. . . .

He frowned. He read the offending clause six, seven times. He read the rest of the will three times, in case there was something he'd missed elsewhere. He folded the will back up, returned it to its envelope, stuck it in the safe. He stood for a long moment, thinking his trundling thoughts, playing Jekyll's words over and over in his head, looking for points of thinness, for spots of tarnish.

Jekyll could talk circles around him any day of the week, but Utterson was dogged enough to always untangle himself, given enough time.

When a few minutes of contemplation had not produced satisfactory results, he carried on with his business, letting the conversation simmer at the back of his mind. He conducted several meetings with potential sponsors for the exhibition, spoke with multiple other lawyers about the damages to the neighborhood surrounding the Society, negotiated with several fine and upstanding and very annoyed people until he found a venue wherein the exhibition could reasonably be held. He took a brief break for lunch, then spent almost two hours talking himself hoarse until he managed to simply out-stubborn the police commissioner into freeing the members of the Society who'd been arrested in the midst of the fire. He did a few more routine things, small cases, paperwork, letter-writing, and then closed his doors and had his dinner. The whole time, that will niggled at him, Jekyll's curious flinching, the spun confectionery reassurances that, upon close examination, had no substance whatsoever.

For a man like Jekyll to make a claim without providing any evidence, there must either have been no evidence, or the evidence that did exist was distasteful to him.

"Mr. Utterson?" his clerk, Mr. Guest, said to him, as Utterson sat staring into the fire. "Is something the matter?"

"Something," Utterson pronounced, very sure of himself, "is."

Jasper had not, previously, spent a significant amount of time in pubs. Back on the farm, it was because the nearest pub was ten miles away—once he'd gotten to London, it was half because he'd been too focused on his work and half because, on the vast majority of nights, he was a wolf.

This particular pub was nightmarish.

The crush and noise of the crowd reminded him too much of the mob that had nearly killed him. That, in turn, reminded him of the man who had saved him, which reminded him that Rachel probably wanted nothing to do with him now and Jekyll definitely wanted nothing to do with him now and hell with it, he might as well get drunk. The moon was a waning crescent and wouldn't rise until four in the morning at least, so he had time.

As he sidled around the edge of the crowded room, however, he spotted a familiar face—or at least, a familiar head of hair. It spoke a great deal to the level of his discomfort that even this particular head of hair was a relief. Jasper picked his way through the crowd, catching more than a few elbows on the way, and slipped into the chair next to the man simply because there was nowhere to stand.

"You're . . . Mr. Hyde, aren't you?" Jasper said.

The man looked up woozily, one eye half-closed, and flashed a drunken grin.

"Ah, my rep-you-tayshun precedes me," he said. The more open eye narrowed, and he gesticulated to Jasper with his beer. "'Ere, I know you. Your 'Enry's wolflet, ain't you?"

Jasper bristled, a heavy weight mashing all his insides into a ball.

"I'm not Dr. Jekyll's anything," he snapped.

Hyde laughed and toasted him. "Same," he said, and slugged back the remaining half pint in one go. He slammed the empty stein on the table and fixed Jasper with a knowing, if slightly unsteady, look. "Lemme buy you a round, mate."

An automatic refusal leapt to Jasper's lips. He swallowed it down. He set his jaw.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, all right. Thanks, Mr. Hyde."

"It's Edward to you, pup, or Eddie, if you fancy."

"Pup?" Jasper parroted, not sure whether to be offended or charmed by the turn of phrase.

Hyde grinned, then leaned his chair back onto two legs and hollered at the top of his voice, waving his empty stein in the air.

"Oy! One for me and one for my mate!"

"Fuck off, ya twat!" the barmaid shouted back at him. He just laughed. His chair tipped past its balance point and toppled. Jasper grabbed him by the arm before he fell and got trampled.

"Careful!" he admonished, pulling Hyde back upright.

"Me? Never," said Hyde. He clamped a hand onto Jasper's biceps and gave him a hearty shake. "Bloody overrated. Never did nobody no good. Hell with it, 's what I say.  I got nothin' to lose, might as well 'ave a bit of bloody fun."

"Just how drunk are you?" Jasper asked.

"Not enough," Hyde said, with a sloppy wink.

A pair of steins slammed down on the table between them. Hyde slapped the barmaid's ass as she turned away. She turned back and slapped him across the face so hard it laid him out flat on the table.

"Second time in two days," he muttered, rubbing his cheek as she stalked away.

"You had it coming," Jasper told him.

"Fuck you, too," Hyde said. He picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. "And fuck 'Enry Jekyll. Right?"

Jasper stared at him for a moment. He lifted his own glass and clinked it against Hyde's.

"F . . . fuck Henry Jekyll," he said. Once the words were out, they lit something off in Jasper's chest, something bright and angry and powerful. "Fuck Henry Jekyll!"

"Eyyyy!"

They drank, Jasper almost until he choked. Hyde nudged him while he sputtered.

"That's the spirit, mate," he said. "You got some catchin' up to do."

Wiping at his watering eyes, Jasper nodded, and settled in to get absolutely hammered.

By some sort of concerted stagger, Jasper and Edward had made it out of the pub and some way down the street. Jasper's arm was flung around Edward's shoulders, and Edward's was looped around Jasper's waist. Jasper had no idea how much either of them had drunk, except that it was a lot.

"Where—where—where're we going?" Jasper asked. His breath fogged the air, but he wasn't at all cold. Everything was very blurry.

"Wherever you want, mate," Edward said. "'Nother pub? The Blackfog Bazaar? Fuck it, let's go, let's go there!"

"No, I shouldn't," Jasper said. "I've got to go home. I've really got to go home, I'm going to get—I'm going to get all wolfy, and it—and that'd be bad."

"Nahhhhh, you've got loads of time!" Edward said. He leaned out precipitously, dragging Jasper along with him and almost capsizing the two of them. "Oy! Oy you there! What time's it?"

"Stop shouting," Jasper said with a wince. The passerby Edward had accosted crossed to the other side of the street and did not answer.

"Ah, fuck 'em," Edward said fondly. "Loads of time. Trust me, trust me, loads of time. Ever seen Blackfog, Jazz? Ever heard of the Blackfog Bazaar?"

"Yeah, 'f course I have, who hasn't?" Jasper said, insulted but blushing nonetheless. He liked the sound of Jazz. It was fun and casual and very friendly.

"You been yet? I 'ave. Could show you round, if you liked. Show you the ropes. Big fan o' ropes, me."

"I just—I just don't want to be . . . be turning into a wolf, in the middle of—" he gestured expansively— "everything."

"Listen, Jazz, listen, we got all the time in the world. All the bloody time in all the bloody world, would you quit goin' on about your wolf shit? Live a little, fuck's sake."

"You're going to get us both killed," Jasper said, although that didn't seem terribly pressing at the moment.

"Ahh, so what?" said Edward. "Might as well have fun doin' it. Say." He regarded Jasper sidelong, something well-oiled creeping into his smile. "Fancy a shag?"

"What?" Jasper squeaked, going hot all over. He suddenly became intensely aware of Edward's arm around his waist, Edward's hand on his hip, Edward's hair tickling his arm. They were not bad sensations. They were in fact very pleasant sensations.

"You 'eard me," Edward said, grinning broadly. "Do you or don't you?"

"I," said Jasper, tongue-tied. "Well."

"Come on, haven't got all night," Edward said, kicking him in the ankle.

"This is a terrible idea," Jasper said, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Is it?" Edward said, sparkling at him. "Is it, really?"

Jasper's back slammed into the wall hard enough to knock his breath out. Edward toppled into him and kissed him like it was the only way he could get air into his lungs. His head was spinning, his fingers numb, and it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough feeling and it wasn't enough pain and it wasn't enough Edward. He could barely breathe for the intensity of the kisses, could barely keep his feet even with the wall at his back to hold him up. The two of them fumbled at each other, greedy hands and clumsy mouths, alcohol and sweat and reckless abandon. It was everything it hadn't been with Jekyll, and that was perfect, that was fine, that was exactly what he'd wanted. What did he have to lose that he hadn't already lost? What could anyone care about stupid, pathetic, naïve little him?

"Christ," Edward said, delighted. "How long's it been since you had a proper shagging?"

Jasper kissed him to shut him up. Edward laughed against his lips.

[melodiouswhite]

Classic literature vine compilation - Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde pt. 08

Utterson: *holds up a crucifix* Henry Jekyll! 

Hyde: Henry Jekyll is no more! 

Utterson: Edward Hyde! 

Hyde: Yeeessssss. 

Poole: That's not good, that's not good! 

Hyde: Gabe, you fool! 

Utterson: I say unto thee: THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! 

Hyde: Oh does it? Does it compel me? 

Utterson: THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! 

Hyde: Does it, Gabe? 

Utterson: THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! 

Hyde: Is the power of Christ compelling me, is that what's happening? 

Utterson, on the verge of tears: THE POWER OF CHRIST … COMPELS YOU!!! 

Hyde: *evil laughter* Guess what? It's not that compelling!

---

Jekyll: *singing* Don't tell your mother- 

Hyde: *singing* Kiss one another- 

Jekyll: *singing DIE FOR EACH OTHER-

---

Jekyll: Please, God! Just let me have one good day! 

God: Oh my me, you again? Give it a rest, buddy!

---

Utterson, holding Lanyon hostage: YOU'LL NEVER HAVE HIM! 

Jekyll: AND WHY IS THAT? 

Utterson: Because I love you. 

Jekyll: *blushes* 

Utterson: *carries him off* 

Lanyon: I just can't even-! :D

---

Hyde: Lucy, you honestly look so pretty today- 

Lucy: PRETTY?! *grabs a knife* BITCH, ARE YOU CRAZY, I'M BEAUTIFUL, HOW DARE YOU CALL ME JUST PRETTY?! 

Hyde: O_O *backs away*

---

Utterson: You're gonna tell me everything right now. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Please. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Please. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Please. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Please. 

Jekyll: No

---

Hyde: *sitting at the piano* This song is called "What I want for Christmas".

Hyde: *plays one accord* Money. :3

---

Utterson: *picks up the phone* Hello. You've reached the house of unrecognised talent. Please start after the- 

Utterson: *sings an opera aria, because he can*

---

Lanyon: Hey! Hey! 

Utterson: Shhh! *whispering* Henry is sleeping. 

Lanyon: *whispering* Sorry. 

Utterson: *still whispering* What is it? 

Lanyon: *still whispering* There's a fire!

---

Lady Summers, giving a yoga lesson: And release all the sounds that are trapped in your mind- 

Jekyll: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! 

Utterson: … 

Lanyon: … 

Hyde, inside Jekyll's head: … 

Lady Summers: Dr. Jekyll? Are you okay? 

Jekyll: I'm a little messed up.

---

Hyde: DO IT! 

Jekyll: NOOO! 

Hyde: MAKE- 

Jekyll: WHY?! 

Hyde: -YOUR DREAMS- 

Jekyll: PLEASE, NO!!! 

Hyde: -COME TRUE!!! 

Jekyll: NO!!! 

Hyde: JUST- 

Jekyll: NO! 

Hyde: -DO IT!!!! 

Jekyll: NOOOOOOO!!!

---

Utterson: Edward, what are you doing, lining shelves on a Friday night? 

Hyde: I'm working off all my excess sexual energy! 

Utterson: Why don't we just hook you up to the gas stove and make popcorn?

---

Lucy, to Jekyll, Alma and Lady Summers: Well, I'm just looking into alternatives, you know, hospitals have a rigid way of doing things … 

*someone screams in the background, everyone winces* 

Lucy: Why is she screaming?! 

Lady Summers: *deadpan* She's conscious. 

*more screaming* 

Lucy: I just want this to be an experience I'll never forget- 

*particularly high-pitched screaming* 

Nurse: *bursts in* You're in luck! You're about to see one of our deliveries! 

Jekyll: W-we don't need the whole tour. 

---

Enfield: Oh please, Utterson, she wants me to travel to Windsor with her! 

Utterson: To Windsor? Well, I suppose you do have to celebrate doing so well this afternoon, so what the heck, go off!  

Enfield: *squeals* AWW, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, I KNEW YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND! I'LL SEE YOU ALL LATER! 

Utterson: Oh, I'm so happy things are going so well for him! Practically accepted into Oxford University, now he's going off to Windsor with his American ladyfriend! *starts to chop vegetables for dinner* 

Jekyll: *hesitantly* … Uh, Gabriel, this trip to Windsor … it is not with the American. 

Utterson: *stops chopping* What do you mean? 

Lanyon: Kid's a slut. *sips his tea* 

---

Utterson, on the phone: Do you happen to have any bandaids for when I get there? 

Jekyll, on the other end of the line: Why? 

Utterson: Because I scraped my knee pretty badly, when I fell for you. 

Jekyll: Awww!  

Utterson: It's a good kind of clumsy. ^^

---

Alma: Good evening, kind sister! Ü 

Lady Summers: What's up, my little gold digger?

---

Luise: *texting her 70yo father* Rofl. 

Her father: *texting back* Lshidmtamsfo. 

Luise: Do you know what that means? 

Her father: Laughing so hard I dropped my taco and my sombrero fell off. BOOM. 

Luise: Best. Dad. Ever. 

---

Lanyon: Father, I just saw one of those ugly arse clowns on the street. 

Mr. Lanyon: What's a mirror doing out on the street?

---

Utterson: My mother said I was an angel and that I was born to be a star. It was embarrassing. And you? 

Lady Summers: My parents said I was a miracle, every time they introduced me to someone. It was very awkward. 

Lanyon & Jekyll: … 

Lanyon: My parents said I was ugly, a fussy little worm, a freak and a bore. 

Jekyll: My father said I was worth- and useless, a terrible person and a waste of space. My mother said I was a spawn of Satan and that I should be exorcised. 

Utterson & Lady Summers: … 

Utterson: I'm so sorry. 

Lady Summers: Same here. 

---

Utterson: Henry, ask me what kind of tree that is. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Henry, ask me what kind of tree that is. 

Jekyll: No. 

Utterson: Just … Henry, ask me what kind of tree that is. 

Jekyll: N- 

Utterson: It's a chris pine. Ü

---

Poole, about Jekyll and Hyde: And they were roommates. 

Utterson: Oh my God, they were roommates!

---

Hyde: *tramples a little girl* 

Enfield: *grabs him* Sir, your vibes are disgusting and I need you to STOP.

---

Jekyll: YOU WILL GO? 

Hyde: I WILL SWING! 

Jekyll: YOU'LL SWING? 

Hyde: I WILL SWING!!! 

Jekyll: BET YOU WON'T SWING!!! 

Hyde: I WILL SWING!!! 

*later* 

Hyde: *swings at the swing set* I told you! 

Jekyll: Whatever. >:(

---

Lanyon: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of the items you have lost throughout your life. 

Poole: It WOULD be nice to get my sense of purpose back. 

Lady Summers: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. 

Utterson: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! 

Jekyll: My will to live! I haven’t seen this in years! 

Hyde: Mental stability, my old friend! 

Lanyon: Guys, could you lighten up a little? 

---

Jekyll: Sorry, Hastie, but I can't believe that you have ever read an art journal. 

Lanyon: Believe whatever you want, see if I care! >:/ 

Lanyon: *stands up, leaves* Hypersexual bitch.

---

Utterson: *sweetly* Time to wake up! You gotta get up! <3 

Jekyll: NOOOOOOOOOOOO-

---

Lady Summers: How did you take down Doria Gray? 

Hyde: I beat him to death, because he gave his soul for agelessness, not immortality and he's a twit. 

Lady Summers: True. That and an ugly bastard. 

---

Hyde: Just me and Aoi hanging out! Ü 

Aoimoku: *turns invisible* >:) 

*Lanyon, Utterson and Hyde having tea* 

Aoimoku: *comes in, head still invisible* 

Lanyon: *screams in fear* 

Utterson: *screams, because Lanyon is screaming* 

Hyde & Aoimoku: >:)

---

Jekyll: How was your first dinner party? 

Hyde: AAAARRRGH!!! I! HATE! EVERYBODY!!! 

Hyde: *cries under the shower* 

---

Lanyon, from the end of the hallway: You're stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it to my face!

Lanyon, to his face: Stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it on Snapchat! 

Lanyon: Stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it at our sugery! 

Lanyon: *hands him a note that says 'stupid'* 

Jekyll: … Alright. 

---

*Take#2* 

Lanyon, from the other end of the room: You're stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it to my face! 

Lanyon, to his face: Stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it in the shower! 

Lanyon: *poking his head into the shower* Stupid! 

Jekyll: Bet you won't say it in Braille! 

Lanyon: *hands him a note in Braille* 

Hyde: It says 'stupid'. 

Jekyll: … Alright. 

---

Hyde: *falls from the ceiling* 

Hyde: Hey, Gabe!  

Utterson: Hey, Eddie. Ü

---

Enfield: How does it feel to be the worst man ever, huh? 

Hyde: Shut up, your mother buys you Megabloks instead of Legos! 

Enfield: You fucking take that back, you- 

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 59

59. Warnings and awkward emergencies

Lanyon was having tea and cakes with Lady Summers, when her butler announced a visitor.

“Who is it?”, she inquired.

“It's Dr. Faust. He says it's urgent.”

Lanyon blinked.

He hadn't heard anything from Dr. Faust since the day Lady Summers had introduced him as her childhood friend.

And honestly, he was fine with it. Childhood friend of his Lady or not, he didn't need to deal with the likes of the brisk German alchemist every day.

Lady Summers thought differently of course, and so she ordered her butler to bid him come to her.

“Shall I go?”, Lanyon asked, “In case-”

“Go, if he asks you to, but otherwise I wouldn't see why you couldn't stay”, she replied.

As soon as she had finished that sentence, the alchemist in question came in.

He stopped short, when he saw Lanyon.

“Have I interrupted something?”, he asked, but before either of them could answer, Lanyon saw the oh-so-familiar flash run through the other man's eyes.

“Ah, alright. Well, as much as I hate to ruin your tea party, I need to tell you something urgent – no, no, you can stay”, he added hurriedly, when Lanyon stood up. “It concerns you and your friends too.”

“Before you tell us, sit down, Johann”, Lady Summers requested. “You look awful.”

That was true: Dr. Faust was wan and had dark rims under his eyes. He looked, as if he had been plagued by nightmares for weeks.

“I have been”, the redhead confirmed Lanyon's suspicions, as he sat down. “It's been two weeks, since I got a good night's sleep.”

Lady Summers frowned. “They must have been really nasty. Did you relieve your traumata from the Thirty Years War?”

“Haha, I wish!”, the alchemist hissed. “In the last two hundred years, I have learned to deal with those! No, it was different this time. At first I thought they were normal nightmares, but they're not.”

“What was it?”

“Prophetic dreams.”

Lanyon's curiosity was awoken. He could recall the older man mentioning that, just like Alma Donovan, he had the gift of precognition (in addition to his telepathy, witchcraft and alchemy).

Dr. Faust continued: “I dreamed about the organisation that kidnapped you and Victor, Perenelle and Nicolas. They're still kidnapping people for their … scientific crimes against humanity.”

What a befitting description to what they did to my Lady, Lanyon thought grumpily.

“They did it to the others too”, the alchemist informed him. “Apart from the vasectomy, of course. But back to the matter at hand. Like I said, they're still looking for victims. And they have their eyes on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And of course you, Luise. But they're far more careful, since you shot their spy in the arm. They're more interested in victims who can't defend themselves.”

“Figures”, Lady Summers snarled. “I knew it – verdammt¹, I knew it!”

“Compose yourself, Luise”, Dr. Faust told her. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, that going to Soho during the following two months won't be wise. Especially for Dr. Jekyll, considering that Mr. Hyde and you are professionals at combatting several opponents at once and Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson always carry a revolver on them.”

Gabriel has taken to carrying a gun? Good! One thing less to worry about!

“And if he has to go there – be it to visit Mr. Hyde, for whatever reason – he shouldn't stray from the way under any circumstances. Abductions always happen in small alleys, where no one can witness it.”

Lady Summers nodded: “Right. I'll let them know.”

“And also tell them, that those bastards found out, that they're actually one and the same person – and that you gave Mr. Hyde your blood.”

The Countess paled. “Wie zum Donnerwetter² did they find that out?!”

“I don't know that either”, Dr. Faust admitted. “I have yet to find the answer. But I do know that they're interested in Dr. Jekyll's scientific work – and they want to test his blood and see, if he is now ageless, like you and me.”

“He is”, Lady Summers informed him. “He and I both made tests on both his blood and mine. But unlike them …”, she scowled, “… I had his consent and cooperation.”

“Of course, we all know that”, the alchemist tried to appease her, “It is a problem though. If you're both immortal and ageless. It gets harder and harder to hide these days.”

“Was it easy in your time?”, Lanyon asked curiously.

Dr. Faust chuckled: “Certainly, as long as you didn't stay in a place for too long. The only registries we had were the parish registers and they only recorded the baptisms, not the actual birth dates.”

“So you know, when you were baptised, but not when you were born?”

“That would be the case, but I got an emergency baptism. But we're digressing from the original topic. Just tell your friends to be careful.”

“You too”, Lady Summers replied.

“Oh trust me, we do”, Dr. Faust muttered, “Nicolas and Victor always take a loaded gun, when they leave the house and Perenelle and I never go out alone – and no, I didn't come here on my own either; Victor is waiting in the parlour. Accompanying me where I go is one of the few things he's useful for-”

“Don't be so hard on him”, Lady Summers scolded him. “He accompanies you everywhere, because he loves you and because he's just as paranoid as you are.”

The alchemist gawked at her. “Holy Mother Mary! Call me out, why don't you!”

Lady Summers rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Johann, just admit that all the traumata of your past have made you so paranoid that you're frightened of leaving the house alone! And that you're taking him alone, because he's equally paranoid!”

“He already knows that”, Dr. Faust growled. “I would rather burn on the stake than show the weakness to admit to that love-sick fool, that I'm afraid of something!”

Oh, I can sympathise with that.

“Johann, I know that you value your pride, but you should put it aside for a few-”

“I know Victor, Luise! That child will put it into his head that he needs to protect me – me! Like he doesn't know who he's dealing with and what I'm capable of!”

That sounds like Utterson.

Dr. Faust inhaled sharply. “Let us not talk about that! I refuse to turn this into a discussion about my paranoia or Victor's puppy love!”

Lanyon decided that this conversation was none of his business and let his focus wander. That way, something caught his attention; the alchemist's breathing was growing shallow and laboured, close to hyperventilation, like he was struggling to breathe – just like a woman whose corset was too tight.

Hardly noticeable, but Lanyon was a physician – he knew dyspnoea³, when he saw it.

Lady Summers however didn't seem to notice. “… Fine. Be that way. You're as stubborn as a mule – don't you dare flaunt your age! I don't give a damn about it, ich kenne dich doch!⁴”

“Nun hör mal zu, Frau Markgräfin …!⁵”

Whatever he had been about to say, he didn't get to finish it. Instead he supported himself on the table, coughed and gasped for breath.

Lanyon jumped up and ran over to support the other.

Lady Summers' smug demeanour crumbled immediately. “Johann?”

“Can't … breathe!”, he wheezed.

Her eyes widened and she quickly shooed them into the next best empty room.

On the way Lanyon caught her exchange a quick glance with the alchemist – telepathic communication.

Then he too heard her mental voice, speaking to him this time: “You need to help him take off his vest and shirt – but don't be shocked at, nor question what is beneath.”

Lanyon nodded and readied himself for something that would probably be as disturbing as Lady Summers' surgical scar.

Dr. Faust obviously wanted to protest against being stripped of his shirt, but was too busy trying not to suffocate.

When the other man saw what was beneath, he realised why.

But he ignored it, apologised for what he was about to do and took the binder off.

That solved the other doctor's breathing problem, but he promptly snatched a blanket to cover himself and glared over his shoulder at Lanyon.

“I can't believe you just did that!”

“Look, I'm sorry for invading your intimate space like that!”, Lanyon spat angrily, “But it was either that, or you would have suffocated! Don't you dare start raving! I'm a fucking doctor and chemist, I have been called a freak for almost my entire life, I have a best friend who is also my ex-lover and split his own fucking soul like the madman he is and has now an even madder alter ego, the woman I'm in love with is an aristocrat, who can read minds and handle a sword better than any man could and you think that I give a damn, that you're … whatever the word is?! Newsflash, I don't fucking care! My priority is the fact that your binder just nearly asphyxiated you–”

He stopped short.

The ginger-haired alchemist had turned his face away and his head was drooping. He was clutching the blanket tightly to his body and shaking, as if he was-

Guilt set in with a vengeance.

“I'm sorry”, Lanyon apologised regretfully. “I didn't mean to make you even more upset.”

“I'm not upset”, Dr. Faust said quietly and wiped his tears away forcefully. “Not really.”

Now Lady Summers, who had watched the argument with obvious discomfort, spoke up again: “How are you feeling now, Johann?”

“Better, thank you”, the alchemist replied. “Sorry for that. I didn't expect it to happen now of all times. It's been more than ten years since it happened last.”

“That was the stress”, Lanyon pointed out, “Stress always alters breathing patterns. And with the chest binder cutting off your air supply, the lack of oxygen made you panic.”

“You know this from Luise”, Dr. Faust noted. “Anyway, I should pick up Victor and go home.” He stretched a hand out from under the blanket. “My clothes, please.”

Lanyon saw himself out – he had ignored the rules of decency enough for one day.

“Thank you so much for helping”, Victor Frankenstein told Lady Summers, as he and Dr. Faust were saying goodbye. “I've been worried about him for weeks.”

Lanyon almost laughed, when the red-haired alchemist behind Frankenstein grimaced and threw his hands up in exasperation, as if to say: Just as I said earlier!

Suddenly the hoary doctor had an idea and addressed it mentally.

Both telepaths present blinked at him in surprise.

Then Lady Summers looked at her old friend, excited to see his reaction.

At first the immortal alchemist didn't react. But about thirty seconds later his face flushed lightly, his eyes shone and he smiled – that was answer enough.

Frankenstein looked between the three in confusion. “Am I missing out on something?”

“No”, the older immortal told him. “Nothing of your concern.”

The black-haired mad scientist looked a bit doubtful, but then he shrugged and dropped it.

Dr. Faust turned back to Lady Summers and Lanyon: “Thank you two. Much obliged. Also, as I said earlier, don't forget to tell your friends about my warning. And wish Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde a happy birthday from me.”

“Will do”, Lady Summers told him. “And you, Johann, make an appointment with my dear doctor still this week. I happen to know that he's-”

“Free next Friday afternoon”, Lanyon finished her sentence.

Dr. Faust chuckled: “Right, I'll come to make the appointment tomorrow.”

Lanyon smiled back: “See you then.”

“You know”, the ginger-haired alchemist said, “I'm beginning to actually believe that you're truly deserving of her.”

“Johann!”, Lady Summers chided.

“Doctor!”, Frankenstein exclaimed.

But Lanyon took it with good humour and laughed: “Well, who am I to contradict your verdict, Dr. Faust? Have a nice day, you two.”

“You took it really well”, Lady Summers remarked, once they had left.

Lanyon shrugged. “I wasn't that surprised, honestly. But I had never thought about it in his presence.”

She blinked. “You figured it out?”

“I had suspicions”, he told her, “But they were based on vague ideas and a bit of a long shot. A few physical traits I noticed, because I'm a doctor. But even though they're assigned to females, they aren't necessarily. So I didn't want to assume anything, before I knew the truth – and honestly I didn't think that I ever would.”

They went back to the greenhouse room.

“Speaking of the truth – it is like this, right? That he's a man despite his female biology?”

“Exactly”, Lady Summers confirmed.

Lanyon exhaled in relief. “Oh, good. I've seen someone like that before, but I wasn't sure.”

The Countess sighed: “They're called 'deviants', but I don't like that word.”

“Of course you don't!”, the doctor snarled, “Because it's bullshit and you have more than two braincells!”

Lady Summers laughed heartily. “And that, Hastie, is why I love you!”

---

1) Verdammt! - German: Damn! 2) Wie zum Donnerwetter - German: How the heck / literally: How to the thunderstorm 3) dyspnoea: breathlessness 4) "...ich kenne dich doch!" - German: "I know you!" 5) "Nun hör mal zu, Frau Markgräfin!" - "Now listen up, Madam Marchioness!"

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 51

51. Bitter goodbye

Utterson came together with Lanyon and Lady Summers to see Jekyll the next morning.

He had got no rest that night, because he had been so worried.

If they had got into an argument, like the hot-headed madmen they were, he wanted to be there to mediate and help them pick up the pieces – just like he always had.

But all three of them were surprised to find Jekyll in a good mood.

“Good morning!”, the Doctor greeted them gaily. “How are you?”

The three of them looked at each other.

“Good morning”, Utterson finally answered, “We were going to ask you that.”

Jekyll blinked in confusion. “I'm fine. Why would I not be?”

“And where is Mr. Hyde?”, Lady Summers inquired. “We're especially concerned about him.”

“Oh.” Jekyll's face fell. “He's never been so cheerful and so fond of me as today, but he still won't tell me what the matter is. And I can't look into his head and hear his thoughts anymore, so I'm at loss.”

Utterson's alarm bells rang.

More cheerful and affectionate than usual?

That was odd.

Hyde was nonchalant and light-hearted, but he was never actually cheerful. Or affectionate, for that matter. Flirtatious, yes. Affectionate, no.

“Where is he?”, he repeated the Lady's question from earlier.

“He's upstairs”, Jekyll told him. “Poole only said that I'm having guests, so Hyde didn't want to come down with me to see them. You know how much he dislikes attention from strangers-”

All of the sudden, Lady Summers looked past Jekyll and cried: “Ah, good morning, Mister Hyde! Where are you going so early?”

Hyde – who apparently had tried to sneak past them – stopped dead in his tracks, being caught red-handed.

Utterson was surprised to see, that the young man was wearing his black raincoat and two big travelling bags. And he was looking extremely uncomfortable.

He turned to Jekyll and lifted up his bags. “Uh … you don't mind, if I take these, right?”

But Jekyll was frowning. “Where did you find those? Why are you carrying luggage for a faraway journey? And most importantly, where are you going and when were you planning to tell me?”

Hyde's face scrunched up in anger. “Oh, don't worry”, he snarled, “I'm not going far. Just out of this house.”

“Why?!”

“Because I need space!”, the brunette snapped, “Because I don't like this house, because I want to be alone and because I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FUCKING WHORE!!!”

Utterson, Lanyon and Lady Summers winced in unison.

Lanyon knew approaching trouble, when he saw it.

He also knew Jekyll.

The blond had grown pale. His left eye was twitching. His expression was one of utter shock and mortification. Then Lanyon noticed a dark spark ignite in those brown eyes.

He knew what was about to come.

And so did the others, because Utterson tried to intervene: “Uh, why don't we go to the study and settle this like adults?”

But he was ignored.

Jekyll just about managed to keep his composure and asked calmly: “I never said you were. What gives you the idea that I see you this way?”

Hyde laughed mirthlessly: “Ohhh, my dear soulmate, where do I even begin-”

“You know what, spare me! I don't want to hear all the reasons for why you hate me so much!”

“I don't hate you, you're just a fucking idiot!”

“Idiot?! How dare you speak to me like that, I am your-!”

“Don't even go there!”, Hyde snapped back, “I owe you nothing, you old twit! Nothing!”

Oh no …

Lanyon saw it coming, before it happened. He had seen it before once; when-

The blond scientist glowered darkly at his other half. “Oh, you don't, do you? And it wouldn't matter to you anyhow, because you don't know what gratitude or obligation is! Don't you dare walk away! I didn't allow you to-”

“Just fucking watch me!”, the brunette hissed, picked up his bags and moved towards the exit.

For a second, Jekyll was stunned. But then his face distorted with rage.

Lanyon could tell that his former lover was about to make an even graver mistake, but before he could keep that from happening-

“You ungrateful little demon! You leave me alone, just like that?! Me, the one who created you and always provided for you!”

Hyde sneered: “You say that like it's something to be grateful for. I didn't ask to be made! And don't worry about your money! Somehow I will find a job and pay it all off and then you will never again be able to claim that I'm a freeloader, living off your wealth. Isn't that fabulous, Jekyll? As soon as I have left this house you will be able to pretend that I never existed! No nagging voice in your head, demanding to be let out or to have your attention! I would forever be out of your hair, just like you always wanted! That's why you created me in the first place, wasn't it? Because I was nothing but a stain on your so called respectability? What is your problem? The only thing you want from me is my body and I'm tired of it!!”

For a few minutes the group was wrapped in silence.

Lanyon glanced at the others.

Utterson looked completely heartbroken.

Lady Summers looked just sad and shook her head at what was going on.

Then the hoary doctor noticed Poole standing at the bottom of the stairs. Judging by his face, the elderly servant saw exactly what he saw and more.

Right … Poole witnessed it all back then.

Jekyll gaped at Hyde in response to the younger man's rant.

Then he grew even paler and stuttered: “That … that isn't … all these things … they're not true! They used to be, but not anymore! Don't go, Hyde! Please don't leave me, I beseech you!”

But the brunette shook his head. “You call me 'brat', 'insult to God', 'child of hell', 'little demon' and other charming things like that, when you're angry. And now, that I'm finally tired of your nonsense, you beg me to stay? This kind of shit is why Lanyon left you! And I'm not remotely as forgiving as he was to you or as patient as Gabriel would be! I'm fed up with this and I'm leaving!”

“Edward!” It was a wail, so desperate and pleading that Lanyon's heart shattered into pieces, just like Utterson's.

And it seemed to get to Hyde as well, because his mask of coldness slipped. For a second, the hoary doctor recognised the pain and heartbreak in the brunette's acid green eyes, giving away that he didn't want to leave Jekyll behind, not really.

Lanyon hoped that maybe the young man would-

“Goodbye, Jekyll.”

Then he turned his back on them and left the house.

Lanyon caught side of him waving on the street and yelling for a cab.

Hyde got onto a hansom and was gone.

[fox-guardian]

Brat

((Whoops this is kinda long oof))

"Mr. Hyde". It just seemed a tad too formal for the little man that was currently spinning in Mr. Utterson's office chair, so he and Dr. Lanyon mostly called him simply "Hyde", or when he was being naughty, (which was often) "Edward". Other names they gave him included "boy", "young man", "dear boy" if they were feeling nice, and "Little Eddie" if they were feeling mean (Lanyon used that one more often than Utterson). These names often acted as punishments in and of themselves as Hyde despised them, and after a bit of pouting he would usually behave at least a little bit better.

A few names they would never use intentionally were "child" or "brat" accompanied with adjectives such as "insolent", "ungrateful", "spoiled" and other similar things. They would only end up using these in moments when Hyde's behaviour would become absolutely unbearable, and cause them to lose their composure. Calling him by these names usually resulted in a tantrum, and that was never fun.

Back to the office chair Hyde was currently spinning in, it was the only spinning chair in the house and Mr. Utterson happened to like it quite a bit. It was comfortable, convenient, and looked quite nice in his cozy little office space. He became increasingly annoyed as Hyde spun faster and faster in the chair, making it wobble and creak.

"Edward, please stop spinning in that chair, you're going to break it," said Mr. Utterson, sternly.

"No I won't," replied Hyde, grinning, his voice dripping with smug mischief as he continued spinning, throwing his cloak about to make it flow around him.

"Edward," repeated Mr. Utterson with an authoritative pause, "I told you to stop."

"And I don't want to," he said, giggling as he pushed off the desk again to gain momentum. The chair swayed.

Dr. Lanyon was standing by and decided he didn't appreciate Hyde's disobedience either, "Edward, he told you to stop spinning, now stop."

"Hmmmm, no~", he started laughing as he spun faster, proud of his defiance. No one could put an end to his fun.

Mr. Utterson furrowed his brow and crossed his arms, "Young man, we told you to stop, now stop."

He stopped spinning, making solid eye contact with Utterson for a moment. "Make me," he challenged, and went back to spinning, throwing his head back and laughing as he did so.

Mr. Utterson took a deep breath to compose himself. Today was already a bad day for him, as he didn't get much sleep the night before due to one of his beloved cats having made a mess on the floor in his parlour room around midnight. He tried to keep calm and collected as he approached Hyde and reached out, catching his cloak and stopping his wretched spinning.

"Hey!" Hyde practically shouted, turning around to face Utterson standing behind him. He had to steady himself a bit as he was now a tad dizzy.

"You told me to make you stop and I did, now get out of the chair and come downstairs." He was very certain in his words, the terms non-negotiable. Well, a reasonable person would think so, at least.

"No! I want to keep spinning! It's fun," Hyde turned his seat back and forth a bit, as if demonstrating how much fun he'd been having.

Dr. Lanyon butted in impatiently, "Yes, yes, I'm sure it was loads of fun, boy. It's just that we've no time nor patience for you to be breaking Mr. Utterson's things."

Hyde protested, looking almost offended, "I'm not going to break it! I'm being careful!"

"And we don't care. Now come downstairs, Mr. Utterson seems to have a task for you to do." The two gentlemen formed a metaphorical brick wall of command that couldn't be broken. They were going to be stubborn in their wishes whether Hyde liked it or not. He was going to leave that chair and go downstairs whether he liked it or not.

Well, he didn't like it. And he would not take this sitting down. Except for the fact that he was, in fact, still sitting in that chair and planned to remain that way.

He crossed his arms in defiance, "No."

"Edward..." Mr. Utterson said.

"No, I will not 'get up and go downstairs,'" he made dramatic quotation gestures as he said this.

"This is not a debate nor a favor you can decline, young man," Mr. Utterson replied, "You will get out of that chair like a good boy or we can go back and forth just like this all day long."

"Then I guess I'll just have to get comfy," Hyde mocked, settling in the chair. He then spun it around once until it came to a stop in front of Utterson again.

He looked incredibly peeved, "If you do that one more time I just might-"

He dared, spinning it again while maintaining smug eye contact for as long as possible.

Mr. Utterson had been having a bad day. Mr. Utterson already did not like Hyde, not many people did. Mr. Utterson was already upset with Hyde's existence for several reasons. Mr. Utterson was already irritable from lack of sleep. He was tired, annoyed, missed his friend Jekyll terribly, and this smug little man just had to go and make it even worse.

"You iNSOLENT, SPOILED BRAT!"

It was strained, loud, and full of seething hatred. Not a tone people were used to hearing come from the mouth of the dull yet very lovable Mr. Utterson. He turned away, immediately knowing his mistake, running his hands over his face in frustration as he mumbled about the day he's had. As he attempted to regain his composure, a growl was heard, and it raised into a soul-grating roar.

"I am NOT A BRAT!!"

This was immediately followed by the sound of a cane spinning through the air and the wood of the office's door being split by said cane's handle getting stuck in it like a hatchet, less than a meter from Dr. Lanyon's shoulder.

Hyde then leapt to his feet and flipped Utterson's desk, sending everything that was on it onto the floor.

"I HAVE TOLD YOU HOW I HATE BEING CALLED THAT YOU KNOW I HATE IT AND YET YOU STILL USE IT LIKE YOU JUST WANT ME TO HAVE A FIT!!" He shouted at Mr. Utterson, who was only just now turning around to face him.

He brought himself together enough to speak to Hyde in a mostly calm tone, "Edward, I didn't mean to say that. I've had a very lo-"

"I AM NOT A SPOILED BRAT!!" He grabbed a heavy bookend from a nearby bookshelf and flung it into the wall, denting it.

Utterson took a deep breath, "Edward, please, I'm trying to apologi-"

CRASH

Another bookend flew through the window, accompanied by Hyde's strained, raspy screaming, which has now become largely incoherent ramblings and angry noises.

Lanyon walked up to the tiny man, "Alright, calm down you little.... something." He wrapped his arms around Hyde, trapping his arms to his sides, and lifted him up with all his might (He was ridiculously heavy for someone so small).

Hyde kicked and screamed, "LET ME GO! I'M NOT A BRAT! I'M NOT A BRAT! I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOOOOOOOT!!"

He eventually grew tired and calmed down, no longer kicking nor screaming. Lanyon gently set him down, his arms and back tired from holding him up so long, and let him slump to the floor in a sad heap.

Utterson kneeled down in front of him, now having collected himself properly, "I'm sorry Edward. I didn't mean to say that. I've had a very long day and you had driven me to my wits end..." he sighed, "but I shouldn't have called you that. It crossed a line, and for that, I'm sorry."

Hyde looked up from under his ragged mess of curls, "...Fine."

It was not really "fine." Utterson knew this, Lanyon knew this, everyone in the room knew exactly what Hyde needed to accept his apology.

Utterson sighed and opened his arms, "...Come here, boy."

Hyde's eyes lit up, and he even smiled a bit. He practically jumped into Utterson's arms, pressing his face into his shoulder and wrapping his arms around his neck. Utterson closed his arms around Hyde's body with little enthusiasm, but it was enough. Hyde let out a long sigh before finally letting go and standing up.

"Apology accepted," he said, seemingly already in a much better mood, "Meetcha downstairs!" He then rushed out of the room, and from the sound of it, slid halfway down the stair railing before tumbling down the rest of it.

Utterson and Lanyon looked at each other with mutual annoyance, and started putting the desk back into place.

((I've been in a writing mood lately, just exploring stuff we may not see in the canon comic, at least not for a while. I hope this wasn't too all over the place.))

[melodiouswhite]

J&H/Tam Lin crossover or How To Steal A Fae’s Boyfriend

(A/N: Due to popular demand, I have given into the temptation of writing a crossover of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with a well-known Scottish folk tale. And it’s a modern AU, because I can. So here you go, I hope you like it! :D

tw: sexual coersion and abuse. Also, Utterson is a trans guy and I probably didn’t get that right)

Gabriel had heard the stories, of course he had.

Of course he had heard the warning, that he shouldn't go there without bringing a cloak or ring as a token, lest something entirely else would be taken from him.

But being a young man in the 21st century, he had thought it was just old folk tales.

Who the hell took a green cloak or a ring to a forest, just for the purpose of leaving it there?

And so he had thought nothing of it, when he had gone into the woods of Carterhaugh without bringing either.

It was his property, after all. His family had acquired the surrounding lands and given the woods to him.

So here he was, walking through the woods with nothing but a book, a pocketknife (you never knew) and his smartphone, when he saw something odd: a saddled white steed was grassing at a well, generally minding her own business. But where was her owner?

Hesitantly, he stepped closer to the horse.

She wasn't disturbed by his presence and stood completely still, when he gently petted her and examined the saddle and bridal. Such a magnificent creature.

But the saddle and bridal looked so elaborate and fancy, they couldn't be from anywhere nearby. Actually, he had never seen anything like it.

Strange, he thought and decided to walk further into the woods. Perhaps he could find the person the steed belonged to.

But when he looked around, it was already dusk.

Huh. Had he really been here for that long?

He changed his mind and turned to go home.

After walking for a few minutes, he stumbled over a path where wild roses grew.

That wasn't here before …

Normally Gabriel wasn't the rose type of guy.

But never before had he seen anything like this. They were so ineffably beautiful, bright and radiant, that he had to take a closer look.

One particularly caught his eye; a white double-headed rose.

This one would be beautiful in my home, he thought, pulled out his pocketknife and carefully cut it off the bush.

But before he could tug it into his jacket, someone cleared their throat behind him.

He gasped in shock and whirled around.

There stood an otherworldly handsome young man dressed in green.

He was tall, well-built, broad-shouldered, had wheat blond hair and chocolate brown eyes. His skin was paler than his own, but not too much, just that perfect, healthy and rosy complexion.

The young man was frowning.

“What are you doing here in Carterhaugh?”, he asked in the most gorgeous voice Gabriel had ever heard. “Why do you cut off the roses? Haven't you heard the stories?”

The black-haired man could only blush and stutter.

After a while, the blond seemed to grow impatient. “Can you articulate yourself, please? I would like an explanation as to why you strolled in here like you own the place.”

Now Gabriel finally pulled himself together.

“Actually, I do own the place. My parents bought the land and gave the woods to me”, he informed the other man calmly. “And therefore, I don't see why I should need your permission to be here.”

The handsome stranger shrugged indifferently. “Really now. Well, I regret to inform you, that this is my realm and the laws of this world mean little to me. Now, did you know the story or no?”

“You mean the story of Tam Lin? Yes, but I assumed that, if they were true, he would be straight. And I'm not a girl.”

The blond shook his head and laughed (the loveliest laugh Gabriel had ever heard, but that wasn't the point): “As you can see, I'm very real. And I don't care about what your sex is.”

This was just surreal.

He was talking to a folk tale character, who turned out to be – waaaaaiiiitaminute!

“Okay, hold it! Just to make this clear: I just stepped into a magical forest, you're Tam Lin and because I didn't bring a ring or a green cloak – whatever you need them for – I won't get out of here, before you get something else from me?!”

“Pretty much.”

Normally, the black-haired man would've thought this was just a sick joke.

But the person in front of him obviously wasn't of this world. The entire forest wasn't normal and the roses definitely weren't. It was so plain that even a sceptic like him had to acknowledge it. So in other words, he was trapped in some kind of magical forest with someone who wouldn't let him go, unless-

The stranger, seeming to sense his discomfort, spoke up, “Listen, Gabriel John Utterson-”

He knows my name?!

“-how about you give me your smartphone instead? Then you come back tomorrow with a ring or cloak to get it back? I believe, that you thought it was just old tales, but this is still a faerie forest. I can't let you go without a tribute of some kind. And the phone is the second most precious thing you have, after your innocence.”

“How do you know about smartphones anyway?”

The blond shrugged. “You'd be surprised at how up to date the Fae are. Makes it easier for them to mess with humans these days.”

“Oh, okay. And I really can't get out of here without leaving anything?”

“Well, you can try, but this forest is enchanted, so you'd just keep running in circles.”

Gabriel thought for a moment.

It was nice of the ghost/elf/faerie/whatever he was to try and accommodate him.

But there was something about that guy that awakened something in him.

“You know what? Screw it. Off with your clothes, you virginity-stealing creep! Chop-chop, I don't have all night!”

“W-wait, what?!”

“You heard me!”, he snapped and began to undress. “Now hurry up. I'm a gay, frustrated 23-years-old, you're hot and I don't like the folks around here!”

“Okay, this is unexpected. No one has ever actually-”

“Well, it's about time then, isn't it?”, Gabriel snapped and threw away his shirt, “Now what part of 'I don't have all night' did you not understand? I'm a lawyer, I have to go to work early tomorrow!”

Tam Lin – or whatever that man's name was – chuckled and began to take off his own clothes.

“Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think you came here because of the legend.”

“If I had known that this forest actually was haunted by a sexy ghost, I would have!”

Tam Lin snorted: “You wouldn't be the first. But …”

Gabriel felt his cheeks heat up, when the blond's chocolate brown eyes wandered up and down his body. And he felt a little uncomfortable, when they lingered on the chest binder he was still wearing.

“You're the loveliest person I've ever met.”

“R-really? So you don't mind that I'm-?”

“Did I call you by your dead name?”, the blond replied and shook his head. “No. If you identify as a man, you're a man. Whether your biology corresponds with that or not doesn't matter.”

Gabriel felt a lump in his throat and swallowed it.

“This is fine”, he whispered hoarsely, took off the binder and lay down.

“Certainly is”, Tam Lin agreed and followed.

Gabriel shuddered, when the other let his hands wander over his tanned skin.

“You really are quite handsome”, the blond murmured.

The black-haired man smiled and dared to steal a kiss.

…

“Wow”, Gabriel breathed, when they were done and getting dressed. “This was wonderful! If that's what I get for coming here without a token, I should do it more often. Uhm …” he blushed awkwardly. “… You wouldn't mind, right?”

“I …” To his surprise Tam Lin also blushed. “I would love to see you again”, he admitted quietly and took his hand.

…

When Gabriel went home, he felt like he was walking on air.

Never in his life had he been so happy and he wondered, if this could be love.

Later, as he lay in bed and the flowers were in vases, he thought about what had happened today.

He fell asleep smiling and remembering what the elven knight had said, when they had parted.

“You're the only rose that still grows fairer after being plucked.”

How theatrical …

…

When he returned to the enchanted glen, Tam Lin was waiting for him.

After spending an hour of passion, they sat beside each other at the well and talked, while the white steed was grassing nearby.

He went home with another bouquet of flowers and feeling just as blissful as the first time.

In the following weeks, he continued to see the mysterious blond.

He found himself falling for him more and more.

But then things became problematic.

First off, Tam Lin listened with interest, when Gabriel talked about himself. But he became oddly cagey, when the black-haired man asked him to talk about himself too.

Why was the blond so secretive?

Worse, his father and grandmother had noticed that something was up and now they wouldn't leave him alone about who “the lucky guy” was. But how was he supposed to tell them that he was sleeping with a mysterious elf from a haunted forest? Not to mention, when he knew next to nothing about him? 

What was their relationship status anyway? Were they dating? Or was he just a fling to the other man?

Damn, he didn't like how uncertain everything was!

And to add insult to injury, he hadn't thought about using contraceptive measures and guess what, he was pregnant! How could he have been so careless?! Now he was carrying a child he wasn't ready for!

He cursed his own stupidity and desperately hoped, that no one would find out.

…

Of course he wasn't that lucky.

It was Sunday, 31st October, when his father found out.

To Mr. Utterson's credit, he didn't freak out as much as Gabriel had feared. Instead he just took a deep breath and demanded to know who was responsible for this.

That made Gabriel really angry. “The only one who's responsible for this baby is me! Oh, and my boyfriend who lives in the woods.”

“What?!”

After an argument, he persuaded his father not to press charges.

(“I'm going to call a lawyer!” - “Dad, I am that lawyer!” - “Oh. Right.”)

But now he was upset and needed to be somewhere else. So he ran back to Carterhaugh and somehow ended up in the enchanted glen, as usual. There he crawled behind a rose bush and cried.

This was just too much.

He was a pregnant man, who wasn't prepared to care for a child, the entire situation was just so muddled and he didn't know what to do!

Although … there was an emergency exit, he suddenly realised.

He had been sleeping with Tam Lin for about two months, so he could be no further on than that.

It wasn't too late for a safe abortion …

“Wait, please.”

He jumped, when Tam Lin appeared before him.

“Gabriel”, the blond said gently and crouched down before him, “I know that you're desperate and overwhelmed, but please consider; it's my child just as much as it's yours.”

“You can say that so easily”, he sobbed, “You're not the one carrying the baby! You could just as well run off and pretend that you never knocked up some unfortunate human, while I'd be stuck with a child I wasn't ready for! You can go off to faerie land and do whatever elves or faeries do, but I can't work as a lawyer and take care of a baby all by myself! And what will I say, when they ask me who the father is? That it's some elf bloke from an enchanted forest, who will never be with me, because I'm just some insignificant human, who will grow old and die?!”

The blond looked beyond hurt. “Is that what you think of me?”, he asked in disbelief, “Do you really think that I would be so heartless and irresponsible?!”

“I don't know!”, Gabriel wailed. “I don't know anything about you! Not even your real name! You can't convince me that Tam Lin is actually your name! I'm pregnant and the father is a man I know nothing about, because he never bothered to tell me anything about himself!”

Tam Lin was silent for a while. But he looked so sad, that the black-haired man almost regretted snapping at him. Almost. Gabriel was in the right and they both knew it.

“You're right”, the blond finally sighed. “I should have been more open. But I chose to be a coward instead and kept my mouth shut, because I feared that you would be disgusted and want nothing more to do with me.”

Gabriel stared at him. “What gave you that idea?”

The blond sat down next to him. “You will understand, once I have told you my story.

First you need to know that I'm not actually an elf or faerie, like you thought. I'm human like you. I'm not even the first Tam Lin to haunt these woods. Although that should be clear, because the legend is older than I.

My real name is – was – Henry Jekyll. I was a medical student and my lifestyle was … well, not exactly proper. When my parents found out that I had slept with both men and women, they threw me out. I needed a while to find a steady place to live and it happened to be the farm you live on now. Then WWI happened, I was sent off to France and returned to Scotland as a shell shocked* war veteran.

One year after the war ended, I was taking a stroll through the woods and decided, that climbing that oak over there would be a good idea (don't ask). And wouldn't you know it, I fell off and right into the arms of the Queen of the Fae, who took me to the kingdom under the hill, where the Fae live. He (and yes, the Queen is a he) made me his consort and named me after the real Tam Lin, to loosen my ties to the human world. Do you see the ring on my finger? It's a magical chain. As long as I belong to him, it won't come off.

You know, Gabriel, most people have a completely wrong image of faeries. They're not like those cute tiny pixies from children's books. Even the more benevolent Fae are dangerous and the ones I live with aren't benevolent. They are Unseelies**, mischievous at best and outright evil at worst. They assault humans and make them suffer for their entertainment. And if they like one, they steal them away and keep them as slaves for all eternity. Mostly children, because they're purer and easier to lure.”

“But the Queen of the Fae is one of the nicer ones, right?”, Gabriel asked hopefully.

Tam Lin – no, Henry Jekyll – stared at him.

Then he broke into a horrible cackle: “One of the nicer ones?! Him! I've been there for a century and I never met a faerie worse than him! He has hundreds of child slaves and abuses them to his heart's content – that is, if he had a heart! One day we went on a walk and there was a big puddle. Of course he didn't want to get his robes dirty. And do you know what he did?! He ordered a 9-year-old boy to lay down and make a bridge, and then he just walked over him! And he was going to do it again, when we went back on the same path. But I lay down and had him walk over me instead. Then I called him out and he would have struck me, if the Queen Dowager hadn't stepped in. She's one of the less malevolent Unseelies and the only one he respects.”

Gabriel gasped in horror. “That's awful”, he whispered. “Oh my god!”

Henry sighed and continued: “Yeah. Well, I guess he was somewhat impressed, because he stopped with the child trampling altogether. The upside is that I can use my privileges to try to be a good influence on him. I try my best to be kind to him, because … well, there must be a reason why he is like that. But he never lets me forget that I'm just a toy to him. And do you know what the sickest part of this is? I like it. The way he smirks at me, talks to me, touches me, makes me melt like butter. When I share his bed, he bites me, scratches me, bruises me and whispers hurtful things into my ear and I can't get enough of it.

At first I thought that he had bewitched me. But when I confronted him, he laughed and said that it wasn't necessary, I'm just that corrupted. I didn't want to believe it, but the Fae don't lie, not even the evil ones. That's their one redeeming quality.”

Gabriel felt his heart ache and touched the other's cheek. “I'm sure, it's not true”, he tried to comfort him, “He just said that to hurt you. I've seen that kind of people, they know how to take away people's sense of self-worth.”

Henry just lowered his head. “It doesn't matter. After being there for a hundred years, I'm starting to forget who I was. The Queen Dowager told me that I can be saved, as long as I preserve my humanity by remembering who I am. But there are so many things I want to forget and the more faerie-like I become, the more power the Queen holds over me.

Anyway, I had come to terms with spending eternity as his slave. But then I found out, that the Fae have some sort of obligation. Every seven years on Halloween, they pay a tithe to hell. Of course they won't sacrifice one of their own, if they have humans to use instead. This year I'll be the sacrifice. When I found out, I didn't even care, because hell can't be much worse than my life so far. But then … then I met you.”

The blond smiled at him so tenderly, that he felt his heart flutter and his stomach went fuzzy (and not from nausea).

“I've never met someone like you before. You walked into my life and it was as if the sun was rising for me. Suddenly I had someone waiting for me here and something to look forward to. You made me feel warm, at peace and most of all … you made me feel loved.”

His smile faded. “That's why I was afraid of telling you the truth. That the man you have slept with – the father of your child – is the whore of a psychopathic Fae Queen and will be sacrificed to hell tonight. Can you still look me in the eyes and say that you're not disgusted?”

Gabriel cupped his face and looked him dead in the eyes.

“I'm not disgusted. Why would I be? No one deserves this kind of life. And how could I not want to have anything to do with you? I never knew that I needed someone else in my life, until I met you. You make me happier than I've ever been. What you just told me changes nothing about this. Actually, it just makes me want you more. I will keep our child, but only if I can have you too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, make you feel happy, safe and loved. I love you, Henry Jekyll.”

He was surprised at how easily those words came out of his mouth.

But it was the honest truth.

Henry stared at him. Then he burst into tears and hugged him tightly.

…

“We have to figure something out quickly”, Gabriel spoke up, when they both had calmed down enough. “You will not be sacrificed to hell tonight! There must be a way to prevent this!”

The blond thought for a moment. “Hmm … now that I think about it, there is a way for you to win me.”

Gabriel's sky blue eyes filled with determination. “Tell me.”

“Alright”, Henry said seriously, “Listen closely …”

…

After a short trip home, he had come back to wait for the faerie procession.

Now he was hidden between the bushes, wearing a green coat he had borrowed from his father.

He was incredibly tense.

When was it finally midnight?

Couldn't the procession show up already?

Well, at least it wasn't raining.

At last green lights appeared at the end of the path and grew bigger.

The procession had arrived.

Finally!

He crept behind a bush and got into position.

Figures came into view.

In the front a small, dark-haired faerie with a crown, riding a black horse.

The next was a yellow-haired faerie on a brown horse.

But he ignored them and concentrated on the man riding the white steed.

Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out of the saddle.

The two riders before him whirled around, when Henry yelped in shock.

When the dark-haired faerie saw, that Gabriel was holding the blond in his arms, he screeched in outrage: “HOW DARE YOU TAKE WHAT'S MINE!!!”

And promptly transformed the man in Gabriel's arms into a lizard.

Then a snake.

Then a bear.

Then a lion.

But all the while Gabriel remembered what Henry had told him:

“As I'm the father of your child, there will be no way for me to harm you. So whatever they turn me into, don't let go. You have nothing to fear.”

So he didn't let go, not even when the Queen of the Fae turned his lover into a chunk of red-hot iron. It was only when the Queen turned him into a blazing flame, that he promptly dumped him into a conveniently located well nearby.

Now Henry emerged from the water as himself, but naked and now obviously a normal human. Gabriel quickly bundled him up in his coat and hugged him protectively. The blond stuck out his hands and tested, if he could take the ring off. It slipped from his finger effortlessly.

The Queen, seeing that he held no more power over him, shrieked in fury and … wait, was that anguish?

But then the yellow-haired faerie with the ice-blue eyes – probably the Queen Dowager – put a hand on his shoulder from behind and said something in a language Gabriel didn't understand.

The dark-haired faerie took a deep breath and composed himself. Then he smiled grotesquely.

“Congratulations!”, he purred sardonically and his glowing acid green eyes were full of hatred. “You caught yourself one stately groom! Curse you, Gabriel John Utterson! May you suffer a horrible death! My fairest companion, taken away by a mere mortal man in a girl's body! And you!”, he turned to Henry, “If I had seen this night coming, I would have turned your eyeballs into wood!”

Henry glared at him and responded by throwing the ring at him.

The Queen of the Fae caught it and stared at the blond. For a second, his hateful, angry grimace slipped and Gabriel caught sight of something that looked suspiciously like grief.

The dark-haired faerie gave off one last terrible shriek and glared at the black-haired man.

“This is your fault! But do enjoy dealing with his issues and the bastard he put in you and think of me, when you gaze into his lovely brown eyes!”

Gabriel tightened his protective hug and snarled: “With all due respect, your Majesty, you're an arsehole and you brought this upon yourself! You abducted Henry and coerced him into becoming your sex slave, he owes you nothing!!!”

The Queen responded with a “Tsk!”, then turned his back on them and returned to continue the procession.

It was only after the figures were out of sight, that the two men relaxed.

Henry took the other's hand and kissed each finger. “My hero. My saviour. I am yours.”

Gabriel grinned. “Let's go home, you damsel in distress. It's cold and you're still wet and half naked. The next months will be busy. We're going to be parents and you'll need legal papers.”

“I know – wait, did you just call me a damsel in distress?!”

---

*shell shock - an old word for PTSD, used esp. for the war traumata of WWI soldiers

**Unseelie - “Unhallowed/Unholy”, a Northern/Middle English word for dark, malevolent faeries

[melodiouswhite]

Jekyll’s batshit bride

“-Could we begiiiiin again?”, Lisa sang sadly. “Once upon a dreee-”

“Alright, alright, I will tell you, but stop!!!”, he groaned.

Lisa and John exchanged a victorious look.

“Don’t get smug”, Jekyll muttered, “You’ll hate me after this.”

Lisa took his hand and said: “Henry, I could never hate you.”

John nodded: “Neither could I.”

Jekyll smiled bitterly. “You’ll change your mind soon”, he promised.

…

When he had finished his explanation, the lab was filled with awkward silence.

Finally Lisa cleared her throat: “Alright … so it’s this way now. Guess we’ll just have to deal with it. No point in running away from it.”

Jekyll looked up. “You’re not turning me in?”

“No.”

“Don’t you hate me?”

Both of them shook their heads.

His eyes filled with tears. “But … but … Hyde … I did all these horrible things … I’m a monster!”

“No, you’re not. Don’t call yourself a monster. Those bastard board members had it coming. It’s their fault you had to do this to yourself”, Utterson protested.

Jekyll bit his lip. How could John be so convinced of that?

“He’s right. You’re not a monster”, Lisa said gently and wiped the tears from his eyes. “From the start I knew that you’re not like the others. That’s why I fell for you. I love you. I don’t care, if you have Hyde. You’re you and Hyde is himself. Maybe he’s frustrated, because you try so hard to get rid of him. Perhaps if you respected him and treated him like a person, he would at least be a little less mean to you.”

Jekyll’s eyes widened. He had never seen it that way. Once again, his fiancée was the person who understood. However-

“But … do you still want to marry me? Even though you know that I could do unspeakable things to you as Hyde?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’m confident that I can handle him.”

“We need a plan, though”, John agreed, “What do we do about Hyde? How do we deal with him for now?”

Lisa’s face darkened. “We do it Carew Style.”

…

The wedding was the happiest day in both Henry’s and Lisa’s life.

They were finally married.

And now came the dance after the ceremony.

“Mrs. Jekyll, may I have this dance?”

“Dr. Jekyll, you may have every dance!”

John was talking to Danvers Carew, who had of course been put into the picture as well (”I would turn you in, but those twats deserved it”), conversing about whatever.

Lisa didn’t care.

She was dancing in her new husband's arms and everything was sunshine and rainbows, as usual, when a woman gets to marry the guy they love.

Anyway, they were waltzing happily, when suddenly Henry tensed up and let go.

Something was wrong and John and Lisa noticed it immediately.

“Henry? What is it?”, he asked in concern.

Jekyll groaned something in his ear and the lawyer’s eyes widened.

“Oh crap!”

“Get me out of here!”, the doctor gasped, “This can’t be happening! Not on our wedding day-”

The rest was drowned out in pained screaming.

Lisa, John and - everyone, really - watched in horror, as Jekyll slowly and painfully transformed into his evil self. Although it could be safely said, that Lisa, her father and John were the calmest people in the room - as you would expect from someone who knows the truth.

Hyde wasted no time in taking the new wife hostage and making the ordinary evil threats of killing her, should anyone do something.

What he didn’t account for though, was that Lisa was not only not scared - she was pissed off beyond mortal comprehension.

Before anyone knew what was happening, she had elbowed him in the stomach, tripped him and was pinning him down, twisting his arm over his back.

It was a pretty hilarious and preposterous sight, how the petite woman was pinning down such a huge guy, but it was really happening.

He was sputtering profanities, but immediately fell silent, when she held a knife to his throat.

“So you’re the creep, who’s screwing with my husband, huh?”, she snarled angrily, “And on top of that you have the nerve to ruin my special day? You must be fucking suicidal!”

“LET GO OF ME, YOU CRAZY BITCH!!!”

“DAFUQ DID YOU JUST CALL ME?! A CRAZY BITCH??? YOU FUCKING KILLED PEOPLE, YOU PSYCHO!!! NOW GIVE HENRY BACK!!! GIVE MY HUSBAND BACK!!! OR ELSE!!!”

“THERE IS NO MORE JEKYLL! THERE IS ONLY HYDE!!!”

“YOU’RE LYING!!! NOW GIVE HIM BACK!!! OR I WILL SHOW YOU NOT TO MESS WITH LISA CAREW!!!”

Danvers Carew applauded. “That is my daughter! Give it to him, Lisa! Destroy him!”

Lisa shrugged. “I can’t, he’s still kind of my husband.”

“HAH!!!”

“DON’T GET SMUG, YOU ARSEHOLE!!! I CAN STILL CRUSH YOUR FUCKING BALLS!!! I’M SURE HENRY WILL FORGIVE ME, IF I TELL HIM I WAS ACTING IN SELF-DEFENSE! NOW GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE! HIM! BAAAAAACK!!!”

Hyde growled something that sounded suspiciously like: “Fuck you!”

Lisa’s rage intensified and she twisted his arm, until it almost broke and he screamed in pain. “YOU’RE FUCKING WITH THE WRONG BITCH HERE!!! YOU RUINED MY WEDDING DAY AND NOW YOU’RE GONNA PAAAAAYYYY!!! GIVE ME MY HUSBAND BACK, IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!!!”

John spoke up: “Give him back. We know he’s in there. And that’s your luck, because otherwise we would fucking kill you. Lisa could easily snap your neck. As for me, I have a gun and a sword cane and I’m not afraid to use either.”

His tone was levelled and dangerously calm.

Hyde growled something under his breath, then he began to shrink and turn back into the more shapely form of Henry Jekyll.

“Henry?”, Lisa inquired softly.

“It’s me”, he whispered back. “Can you please let go, my crazy angel?”

She let go of his arm. Then she and John proceeded to help him get up.

“Are you alright, Henry?”, John asked worriedly.

Jekyll smiled back. “I am now. Thanks to the both of you.”

“Sure, you mad scientist”, John replied with a broad grin.

“Anytime, my love”, Lisa said sweetly.

“Wh-what - WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!”

They turned around to see a corpsely pale Simon Stride staring at them, as if they were some kind of freakshow.

“You ... you monster!”, he choked out and pointed at Jekyll, “You freak! You crime against nature, you danger against society! You ... You ...”

“Go on!”, Lisa interrupted him with a hiss, “Keep insulting my husband! I dare you, you self-absorbed twit!”

The arsehole secretary now proceeded to gape at her. “And you ... who the hell are you?! A crazy fury like that isn’t my Lisa!”

“She never was your Lisa to begin with!”, Henry snarled and wrapped his arms around his wife possessively.

Lisa glowered at him. “And what did you expect? That my talk about not being weak, obedient and sweet was just a woman’s rambling? Well, have I got news for you - you’re wrong! Henry accepted that and that’s why he’s my husband and not you! Besides, he’s the cutest thing in existence.”

Jekyll grinned. “And you’re the hottest woman in the entire Empire, especially when you get badass like this!”

“Oh, you cheeky devil!”, she giggled.

“YOU’RE BOTH MONSTERS!!!”, Stride shrieked.

Now it was Danvers Carew’s turn to be pissed.

“Dafuq did you just say about my daughter and son-in-law?!”, he snarled. Then he attacked.

John - who had left them for a bit to call the coach - joined them again, to inform the bride couple, that the coach was there and Lucy was waiting for them.

The doctor smiled happily. “Well then, my dear angel! Allow me to sweep you off your feet!”

Then he swept her up in his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her father spoke up again. “Henry - you better treat my daughter like a queen!”, he said, while strangling Stride.

Henry laughed: “Oh no! I will treat her like the goddess she is!”

Then he carried his wife off.

...

“How was the wedding?”, Lucy asked curiously, as the coach drove further and further away from the church.

Jekyll sighed: “It was wonderful, until Hyde ruined everything.”

John smirked: “But it was totally worth it to see Lisa turn into a total badass! She almost broke Hyde’s arm, yelled at him and held a knife to his throat, until he backed out. Then Sir Carew choked Stride and it was all priceless.”

“In a church?!”, the prostitute asked incredulously.

The other three nodded.

“And you actually managed to overpower Mr. Hyde?”

“Yup”, Lisa said, “I was trained in combat ever since I was small. It wasn’t that hard.”

Lucy pouted. “I wish I had seen it.”

For a minute, everyone was quiet, as the coach drove on.

Then Lisa spoke up, turning to John and Lucy. “Sooo ... now that you know just how crazy the two of us are ... are you still in for a polyamorous relationship?”

“Of course”, Lucy smiled, “After all, I have you now to protect me.”

“And I will be the voice of reason between all of your madness”, John joked and everyone laughed.

Jekyll stopped laughing, when he felt Hyde stir inside him.

“Your wife is mad!”

Guess you two have that in common, he thought back drily.

“I like her!”

Oh no.

“I think I could get used to this!”

Jekyll smiled crookedly.

Just remember today, should you ever feel the urge to tick off Lisa Jekyll.