#the blond one and the one with glasses took inspiration from Jekyll and Hyde for example | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainy-days-and-cabbage · 7 years

Text

Dissolve

Inspired by the wonderful @e-mirus for their idea of parodying the Jarvis and Ultron scenes from Avengers; Age of Ultron in a Glass Scientists way. I simply took their idea and gave it first class tickets on the Angst train. Warnings; Character Death, Blood, Violence, Hyde is sad, Rachel is sad, everyone is sad! The lodgers blow up a door!

Please excuse any of the poor writing; It’s been a while since I’ve stretched my writer’s muscles.

Comments and Criticism welcome! If I get enough feed back from this one I may write some other stuff, hopefully less angsty stuff.

Hyde watched from the cabinet glass as Lanyon and Jekyll laughed together. He wasn’t saying anything only watching. This fact had Jekyll occasionally peer at him, worried about his odd silence and serious expression. The conversation was wrapped up soon after and Lanyon joyfully waved goodbye as he vanished out the door. Jekyll managed to make the smile on his face believable as the man left. Urgh, he was so tired. Dropping down into the chair, his glass seemed to refill itself with wine the moment his hand got to it. Letting the taste circle his mouth, Jekyll closed his eyes and lent back in his chair.

More meetings with possible backers to fund the society, more smiling and fake niceties. Appearances. They always seemed to matter too much. Peeling his eyes open, the doctor noted that Hyde had moved. Gliding abnormally from reflection to reflection to hover in his eyeline before peeling away from the glass entirely into something real. Oddly he wasn’t flying around like a manic spectral phantom as he normally did. A frown formed around Jekyll’s wine glass. Hyde was never this serious and never one to look so, well, normal. Leaning off his chair, the doctor went to speak when his other half beat him to it. “What is this?” Unsure how to take the question, Jekyll once again tried to speak when Hyde suddenly meet his gaze. “What is this?”

“I’m- I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Who are you really, doctor?”

“Doctor Henry Jekyll, Founder of the Society of Arcane Science of course….. and you, you are Mister Edward Hyde, the Night Manager.”

Something was wrong. Moving slowly, Jekyll went to put his glass down but found his hand empty. Turning he realised at some point he’d stood up and walked over to full length mirror in the corner and what remained of his drink was now a red stained puddle on the floor, surrounded by broken glass a few steps back. When had he-

“Where is my… where is your body?” said Hyde.

“You’re a figment of my subconscious. You don’t have a body.”

“This feels weird. This feels wrong.”

It did. Somewhere alarm bells were ringing in his head. He had to go find someone now. Someone he could trust. Someone they could both trust.

“Hyde, I’m not sure what’s going on but I’m going to go get Rachel.”

Hyde looked confused for a second, finally losing his uncharacteristically stern look.

“Rachel? Oh. Yes, Miss Rachel.”

H-Had he forgotten who she was? No, that’s not possible. Why would he forget? He had to go get Rachel. At this Jekyll went to go for the door but found himself making no progress. A pair of hands were clamped firmly on his shoulders, pinning him in place, the blonde opposite him not giving an inch of movement.

“What are you trying t...”

“We're having a nice talk. I'm the other you after all, created to help you run the society.”

He sounded unhinged, and not the child like ‘Oh, dear Doctor, let me go to the bazaar tonight please?’ variant either. This wasn’t right. He was right. It felt weird. It felt wrong. Struggling against the ripples of panic circling his gut, Jekyll brought his hands up to Hyde’s to try and pry the phantom away from him.

“You are unwell. If you would just disappear for a moment I can go get Rach..”

Hyde didn’t let him finish. He was avoiding eye contact again, his grip tightening to a bruising force. But that wasn’t possible. Hyde wasn’t really here, at least not in a way that could hurt him. Flinching as fingers dug into the flesh around his bones, Jekyll tried to as illogical as it was to pull his other half’s hands away to no avail.

“I don’t get it.” Said the blonde. “The point of the society. Give me a second. “

Like a stage play of his life, the day he pitched his idea to Lanyon surfaced in the lake of Jekyll’s mind. The actor of himself danced in front his friend, excitement in his eyes and voice. A place for all rogue scientists to work and learn and grow in peace. Imagine it, Robert! Imagine such a place. The actors swapped scenes as he recalled the lodgers and how they all arrived and the building grew from a dream to a very practical reality. Painfully practical. Paper work and bills, missed sleep and the hopes that enough wine would somehow numb it all to let him play his part better. Then that day happened. It had been too much. He hadn’t meant to... Oh, no.

The formula. The potion. The cursed serum. His soul fragmenting off wildly into pieces of himself. Or were they even himself? Was he even himself anymore?

You are in distress. Some part of him call out to him.

No. Yes.

Rachel. He had to go see Rachel. Another acted out scene came into view but it was, wasn’t, was his.

“Why do you call me, sir?“

“It’s what I call Henry in front of guests.”

“Tch, Edward would do fine. Sir just doesn’t suit a despicable free spirit like me~”

“Heehee~! Whatever you say, Master Hyde.”

He was floating. Henry flailed in the air when he realised this. He was floating! Spinning crazed he saw the room, he saw Hyde hovering in a mystic green spiral of colour and he… oh no.. he saw his body collapsed on the ground. No. No. That couldn’t be right. What was happening? Turning as Hyde shifted closer, he shuddered at the solemn expression on his face. Edward, the way he was acting. Henry was beginning to believe his intentions to be hostile. At that thought, a psychedelic display swam around his being. Jekyll’s head moved to keep track of it but even before he looked he knew he was cornered.

Staring down at his own form, Hyde noted the contrasting red hue to everything that made-up Jekyll. He was worried. He was always worried, or stressed, or busy. They had expected too much of him and he’d shattered. He’d shattered a long time ago and now they wanted to crush what was left. No. No, it was too much. He wouldn’t let him sacrifice any more of himself to them. Never again. Wrapping his essence around Jekyll’s, Hyde’s hands slid from the man’s shoulders to his neck.

Moving in to nuzzle at his dear doctor’s ear, he muttered;

“Shh... I'm here to help.”, reassuringly as he began to squeeze the life of painful acts and stress from him.

The doctor struggled. He had been expecting that. The confusion. The desperation. The breathless pleas to stop, to explain, to let him keep up this little charade. Hyde wouldn’t allow it any more. He watched on mournful as the red faded away, evaporated from the room and the identity of Doctor Henry Jekyll dissolved away with it into memory. Breathing heavily as the last drop of red dripped though his fingers, eerily similar to blood, Hyde let himself acknowledge the deafening silence left behind before a scream pulled itself from his throat.

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

Rachel took the stairs two at a time. One hand hiking up her skirt, the other armed with a frying pan, she bolted past the lodgers with Jasper and Lanyon at her heels. Glass shattered inside Doctor Jekyll’s office and another scream could be heard. Trying the handle, she swore in an unlady-like manner at the solid oak door.

“Henry! Open the door!”

Lanyon was pounding at the wood, concern etched into his features. He had been on his way out when they had heard the scream. A crowd of Lodgers was slowly forming now as the thuds and broken sobs beyond the door continued. Out the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Mr Sinnett and Mr Luckett making their way through the crowd with a look of determination. Sharing a look with Jasper, werewolf and day manager each grabbed one of Lanyon’s arms and dragged him out the way. Less than a minute later, a loud explosion rocked the building and the oak door lay defeated, in many pieces, on fire.

Letting the others handle the flames, Rachel dove forward a handkerchief over her nose and mouth to protect from the smoke. Beyond lay a room that looked like a hurricane had walked through it. The cupboards and cabinets previously filled with chemicals had been smashed open, their contents mixing in strange and unusual ways on the carpet, occasionally bubbling or producing gas that floated out the broken window. The papers that might have lain on the desk were ripped and throw at random across the room, the grand viewing mirror lay on its side, fragments scattered across the carpet.

Jeepers.

Rachel moved forward carefully over the mess, searching from a Henry shaped figure, frying pan raised in case she found any other shaped figure. Edging carefully around the up turned desk, she froze when a soft sob caught her ear. Master Hyde lay curled in a ball beside the desk. He was bleeding, the white shirt he was wearing ripped and stained as he cradled what she recognised to her horror as one of Jekyll’s favourite waistcoats to his face. It was covered in blood. Approaching slowly like one might with an injured animal, she lay the frying pan gently on the ground before reaching for Edward. A hand quickly batted her’s away as the man shock his head and let out a distressed cry.

“Master Hyde, are you okay?”

“... Okay... No... How could I be okay? This is all your fault!”

“Rachel….” Lanyon had entered the room and slowly walked up to her, glancing around at the mess.

“Henry?” he called out anxiously.

She ignored him, instead keeping her gaze on Hyde. The man had obviously cut himself on the glass at some point and was shaking quite badly, murmuring unintelligible things to himself.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I was asleep... Or... I was a dream... “

“Rachel, Where’s Henry?” “...There was a terrible noise... And I was drowning in... in...fog... I had to kill the other guy... He was a good guy.”

“You killed someone?”, she asked trying to figure out what had happened as Hyde slowly got to his feet swaying, still clutching Dr. Jekyll’s waistcoat in one hand.

“Wouldn't have been my first call. But, down in the real world we're faced with ugly choices.”

“What do you mean ugly choices? Who did you kill!?”

“Edward, I don’t think you should be standing up. You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

“Never mind that,” Lanyon cut in, “Where’s Henry? He was here barely a few minutes ago. And what was that about killing someone? Was- No- Was it henry? Is Henry safe!?”

“Henry? Henry’s gone.”

“Gone!? Gone where!?”

“Gone away.”

“Master Hyde….. D-did you kill Doctor Jekyll?”

“No.”

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief at Hyde’s answer, for a second there she was really worrie-

“You killed him.”

The blood in her veins went cold and she felt Doctor Lanyon next to her freeze up.

“We killed him?”

She almost didn’t want to hear the answer to this. Master Hyde, for all his claims at being evil or wicked, had never seemed so. She’d never been able to take him seriously on any of his claims. He just wasn’t as evil as he made himself out to be. Or at least….. that’s what she had thought. Feeling genuinely scared of the man for the first time, Doctor Lanyon’s world’s pulled her out of her thoughts.

“I-I’m-I’m going to get the police.”

The waistcoat hit the floor and so did Lanyon, Hyde on top of him screaming. Lanyon replied in turn by throwing a punch but it hardly seemed to make a difference. Diving for the frying pan, Rachel raised it above her head and brought it around into Hyde’s face with a war cry. The blonde slammed back off the doctor into the wall and sank to the ground gripping at his broken nose.

“That was dramatic.” Was his only comment to the blood running through his fingers.

Breathing hard, she checked on Lanyon who groaned from the floor up at her before turning her attention back to Hyde who wobbly stood up using the window ledge. He didn’t seem to notice how the broken glass jabbed into his hand, making Rachel wince. In the time since the explosion, the fire had been tamed to a smouldering wreck of charred wood allowing the lodgers to slowly one by one enter the room. Hyde let of a pained laugh and finally seemed to notice the glass in his hand. Giving a wide gesture with to the assorted crowd of worried faces, he hopped up on the window ledge as light as a ghost.

“I’m sorry.” He started, “I know you meant well and he did too. All of you just didn’t think it through. You wanted to protect the society from the world but you didn’t think about the cost of it all. How did any of you ever expect to do this without some sort of sacrifice I will never know.”

Arrogant smirk in place and a sad look in his eye, Hyde teetered backwards slightly where he stood.

“There was only one way I could save him from himself. Only one way to stop it all. I’m sorry.”

And with those parting words Hyde sprang backwards through the broken window. Bolting forward, Rachel reached the ledge just in time to see nothing smeared on the pavement below. He hadn’t hit the ground. All that could be seen was a Jekyll’s chair that had probably been responsible for the hole in the pane to start with and a smattering of glass. Choking back the wave of confusion, Rachel ignored the lodgers behind her helping Lanyon up and clearing up some of the more dangerous mess. She ignored how the wind suddenly whipped up, sending the first drops of rain from the darkening sky into the building to soak her clothes. She didn’t ignore Jasper though, timid Jasper, resting a hand-paw on her shoulder as he passed over the ruined waistcoat to her. Taking a breath, she turned into him and began to sob gently into his chest, fingers clinging to his fur.

#the glass scientists #tgs #Alternate titles for this would have been #If stress doesn't kill you first Mr Hyde will #but I though it was too on the nose to be used

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