Chapter Text
After a few seconds, Grye sank down into the basket, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as he clutched his injured arm. He felt a little dizzy, and the only thing more clear than that was the pain he felt. He took a few deep breaths...in, out...in, out...
Something moved beside him, and he opened an eye to see Victoria looking his wound over. “Keep applying pressure,” she said, pushing him down so he was lying down, before taking the knife and cutting his sleeve from his arm, and taking it off.
He did as he was told, being in too much pain to complain or ask what she was doing. She then grabbed his bow tie and untied it, before taking it from around his neck and wrapping it around the area above his graze. “Stay calm,” she told him, before holding up the pocket knife. “Where is the cover for this?”
He took its sheath out of his pocket, and she covered the knife with it, before using it to twist the tie around the area above the wound. Once it was tight enough, she secured it.
Once applying this tourniquet was finished, Grye focused on deep breaths, while Victoria looked his wound over. It had stopped bleeding. She sighed, and then took his sleeves, before wrapping them around his wound as a sort of makeshift bandage.
“We can worry about cleaning that later,” she said. “I guess you are lucky that the bullet only grazed you.”
He nodded, a little absently. Then he sat up with some effort, and looked up at her.
“Miss Victoria,” he said. Then he tried to laugh. “Victoria Frankenstein. Oh my God.”
Her eyebrows creased. “What about it?”
“You're Frankenstein?” he asked. “All this time I've been helping a person thought dead for thirty years?”
“...Are you a fan?”
He abruptly stopped laughing. “No.” He then tried to straighten up. “And now that I'm out of the heat of the moment...was the Creature really going to kill you?”
“You thought they were going to kill me?”
“That's why I tried to get you to escape!” he exclaimed. “Now, tell me, just what were you doing at the Society? What was that all about?”
She frowned – it was as if she were about to say something in anger. But she looked him over, and her eyes fell on his wound, before she took a deep breath, and exhaled.
“Before this, I was staying at the Society,” she admitted. “The Creature brought me there, for Dr. Henry Jekyll to treat my illness.”
“Did he?”
“Well...”
“...Oh, Lord,” Grye said, beginning to laugh again. “You had the cure to your illness in the Society?”
“I never said–”
“And you escaped to Blackfog to find your own cure?!” Grye went on. “The Creature was trying to help you – and I helped you escape!”
“Doctor–”
“And no wonder that woman said you had blood on your hands!” he exclaimed. “You're Frankenstein; of course there's blood on your hands!”
“Dr. Grye!”
She yelled loud enough that it caused him to shut up. She ran a hand through her hair, and then held up her hands.
“I was trying to find my own cure because I had problems with Dr. Jekyll,” she said. “I could not accept a cure from someone such as him.”
“Problems with Dr. Jekyll?” Grye asked. “I never would have expected him to be the type to cause problems for his patients.”
“He caused problems with this one,” she said. “And as a result, you cannot get me to regret going out tonight.” She then pressed her lips together, and looked at him. “However...I probably should not have dragged you into my mess.”
He stared at her. “...Well, I guess I can't be mad,” he said. “I offered to help you at every turn.”
A small grin appeared on her face. “And I accepted.”
He smiled as well. “I guess that's settled, then.”
She then looked away. “So...are you going to send me back to the Society?”
Grye pushed himself back onto his feet. “Well, I am considering it. What do you want me to do, though?”
Victoria crossed her arms. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I would rather die than go back to the Society.”
“They treated you that bad?” Grye asked looking over the edge of the basket.
He reached up to the burner, and adjusted the flames so that they decreased in intensity. She didn't respond for a few seconds; she must have been hesitating. “Well...” she said. “I would not say that they treated me so badly – but it does not matter. I do not want to return to the Society either way.”
“Is it about Dr. Jekyll?” he asked, before looking back down at the scenery below – they were beginning to descend. “Did you have a disagreement with your doctor?”
She huffed. “Well, I did. He and I differ in ideologies.”
“What kind of ideologies?”
“He seems to think that he can sanitize mad science and make it appealing to the rich so they can profit off of it.” She sighed. “As if I would let him do that to his Lodgers.”
He inhaled, and then turned around to look at her. “So you think that Jekyll is selling off the scientists in his Society to be the rich people's toys?”
She raised a finger. “Yes, exactly!”
“I don't believe that.”
“...Huh?”
“I mean,” he shrugged. “I think he means well. Trying to get money to keep the scientists and their projects afloat is a noble cause.”
She stared at him, before frowning. “Come on – he isn't even a real scientist. What does he know about what real scientists want and need?”
“Well, he's given them free lodgings, materials for them to continue their research with, and he's planning on raising money for their cause,” Grye said. “I don't know if that's what they want and need, but it's a start.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are not a scientist either.”
“I am.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you're a real scientist. After agreeing with Dr. Jekyll, honestly...”
“Alright.” He looked her in the eye. “I don't know about Dr. Jekyll, but I am a real scientist. I teach students biology at a university and I contributed my own research to the field.” He crossed his arms. “That good enough for you?”
“You don't even do mad science, either.”
“On the contrary, I know almost everything there is to know about mad science. I study mad science in my spare time and introduce it discreetly to people who want to learn about it.”
She gave him a look. “That's what's wrong with people like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You try to introduce it to people by spoon-feeding it to them. Do you not know that the purpose of science is to make the populace quiver in terror and awe?”
“I...believe that's not what I was taught in school, no.”
“That's because they're trying to control you!” she exclaimed. “They're trying to make you like helpless little lambs, ready to do their bidding!”
He put his hands up. “I won't disagree that some politicians can be like that, but we can't assume the worst about our education system all the time.” He then sighed. “Listen, I think science can be used for the good of humankind. It's our destiny to progress towards a brighter future with the aid of science.”
“Your idea of a brighter future definitely differs with mine,” she said. “We can make it brighter by taking the fire of knowledge from the gods and using it to leave everyone else terrified of what we can do.”
“Prometheus did not steal fire from the gods to terrify man, Miss Victoria,” Grye told her. “He stole fire from the gods to help and uplift man. I read my Greek mythology.”
“Just because you have read it does not mean you understand it–”
“The same goes for you too.”
She stared at him, and then scoffed. “Ugh! I did not save you from those people at Blackfog just to have you lecture...” She stood up suddenly, then held her head, and winced. “Ah...”
He moved closer to her. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine – don't touch me!” she said, trying to wave him off.
Grye took a step back, the concern still on his face. “I'm...sorry,” he said.
She glared at him, and he looked down, rubbing his bandaged arm a little. Then he turned towards the burner, and began to decrease the intensity of the fire even more.
The two of them were silent until the balloon fully descended, and then jolted as it hit the ground. The basket dragged against the road for a while, and then skidded to a stop. Then he extinguished the burner fully, and the balloon deflated.
Grye looked out at the street, and then got out of the basket, carefully so as not to hurt his injured arm. He then looked at Victoria, while she got out of the basket as well.
“Seems we're still in London,” he said. “But all the way in the East End.”
Victoria sighed, and then put her hands on her hips. “Well, what now?”
He sighed. “I'm not sure we'll get a carriage at this hour. This is much too far from my flat.”
“So, what will we do?” she asked.
“Well, I've still some money with me,” Grye said. “We could find an inn and stay there for the night.”
She crossed her arms. “I'll find a boat. And then I'm getting out of London.”
He turned towards her. “Right now? Are you crazy?”
“Not any more crazier than you, for getting me out of Blackfog in a stolen hot air balloon,” she said. “But now that you know who I am, I cannot allow you to bring me back to the Society."
“Miss Victoria–”
“No. I will not listen to another word you say.”
Grye looked down at his hands, and wrung them together. “I wasn't going to bring you back to the Society.”
She raised an eyebrow, and then turned towards him. “Pardon?”
“I thought you weren't listening,” Grye said. Then he looked back up at her, searching for a hint of annoyance in her face – he probably shouldn't have said that out loud.
“No, you – you are not going to bring me back to the Society?”
“No.” He swallowed, and then rubbed his bandaged arm a little again. “I mean...considering how adamant you are about not returning, I would assume that you want someone to side with you, at least.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “You are not just saying that to gain my trust, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“You're not trying to gain my favor?” she asked. “Even though you know who I am?”
“I don't care who you are, Miss Victoria.” He frowned a little. “I guess you're lucky I didn't know who you were at the start. I thought the Frankenstein in The Mad Galvanist was a damn idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked away, and folded his arms. “Nothing. I...” He then pointed in another direction. “We should go there.”
She looked in that direction, and then huffed. “What makes you think it's a good idea?”
“What makes you think it isn't?”
She frowned at him. “Just because you helped me...doesn't mean...” She began to sway. “Mean...”
He gasped, and then moved forward to catch her before she collapsed to the ground. She put a hand to her head, and groaned.
“Are you alright, Miss Victoria?” he asked.
She only replied with a groan. He held her against his chest with his uninjured arm, and helped her to stand upright. “Come on, we're taking you somewhere safe.”
Victoria nodded – it seemed she didn't have the strength to argue further.
The two of them eventually made their way to an inn that looked more run down than most, and it being their first option, Grye naturally got the two of them inside.
When they were inside, the patrons looked up at them. Grye guessed that they must have looked like quite a sight – one of them weakly leaning against the other, and the other one with a ripped sleeve and a bandaged arm. But Grye tried to avoid looking back at them as he went to the counter, and asked for the innkeeper.
The innkeeper came, a stern-looking woman who looked quite surprised at the sight of them. She gave them a suspicious look. “You aren't here to cause any trouble, are you?” she asked.
“What? No,” Grye said. “Listen, my friend has a fever and I don't know how long she'll last. Give us a room, even just for tonight.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You aren't one of those mad scientist types, are you? Your friend looks eccentric, and you both smell strange. And you've been injured – not running from the police, I hope.”
“Please, just let us stay here for a night,” he pleaded. “I'll pay you any amount I can.”
Victoria looked like her consciousness was slowly fading, and she groaned again. The innkeeper gave them a once-over, and then sighed. “Follow me,” she said.
“Thank you,” Grye said.
He didn't notice Victoria crack open her eyes and look up at him once more.
The innkeeper led them up the stairs and up to the second floor, where there was a few doors in the hallway. She led them to the one at the end of the hallway, and took out a ring of keys before finding the one that unlocked the door, and then showed them inside.
It had only one bed – Grye instantly knew what the innkeeper was implying. But he wasn't going to argue. They had already had enough trouble in this situation as it were.
“I'll bring up a bowl of cold water and a cloth,” the innkeeper said. Then she gestured to his arm. “And some fresh bandages.”
He thanked her again, and then she went on her way while Grye half-carried Victoria into the room. He led her over to the bed, and then got her to lie down.
“You do not need to watch over me like I am a frail child,” Victoria managed to get out.
“Yes, I do,” Grye said. “You're sick, and I saw you vomit up blood tonight. So stay in the bed. Please.”
She stared at him, but didn't do anything else. He closed the door, and then pulled up a chair, before placing it near the side of the bed where she was lying. Then she closed her eyes again, and sighed.
Grye sat down on the chair, and then placed a hand on her forehead. She didn't seem any hotter than before – that was something, at least. Maybe the excitement of the night had gotten to her. He thought about it a bit, and wondered just what on earth this woman had gotten herself sick with.
Was it a curse, as Catalina had said?
Grye didn't believe in gods and all that, much like Victoria – but the blood on her hands did make sense. If anything from the book aside from the Creature was true at all...
And he remembered the terror in Victoria's eyes clearly.
A knock sounded on the door, and he got up to answer it. It was the innkeeper, with the promised materials. She brought them into the room, and put them down on the table beside the bed.
“It's alright, miss,” Grye said once she was done. “I'll do it from here. I'm a doctor.”
The innkeeper nodded, even as she still looked a little suspicious. “Well, if you need anything else, just ask.” Then she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Victoria opened her eyes again. “Are you really a medical doctor?”
“No,” Grye said. He took the cloth, and then dipped it in the bowl of cold water. “I was just worried that you might refuse treatment from her, like you did with Dr. jekyll.”
“Why do you think you're any different?” she asked, though her voice had lost its edge.
He tried to smile. “Because I helped you escape in a hot air balloon?” He laughed a bit, and then pulled the cloth out of the water, wringing it. Then he folded it, and put it onto her forehead. As he hoped, she didn't resist. Instead, she continued to stare at him tiredly.
Seeing that she was calm, Grye reached for the bandages, and sat down in the chair once more before placing it on the bed beside Victoria. Then he reached up to the fabric wrapped around his arm, and began to undo it.
“No, no.”
He looked up at Victoria in surprise – she had taken the cloth off her forehead, and was now sitting up so that she was looking at his wound.
“You need to be lying down,” he said.
“And you need help with those bandages,” she said. “What, did you expect you could wrap them around your arm yourself?”
“I...”
She took the makeshift bandage off of his wound carefully, and then put it aside. Then her hands moved up to the tourniquet, before loosening it.
Grye winced at the pain, but it seemed that the bleeding had stopped. He then watched as she quietly wrapped the fresh bandages around his wound, seemingly struggling to keep her eyes open. He wondered if he should tell her that he could take it from there – but he had a feeling she wouldn't allow him even if he asked.
Soon enough, she finished applying the bandage, and tied it up, before sighing and closing her eyes. He took a moment to look down at the bandage – it seemed pretty secure – before looking up at Victoria.
“Are you going to take off the coat and scarf?” he asked. “It seems to be doing you more harm than good.”
She opened her eyes again, and shook her head. “There's no need.”
“Your body temperature may only rise,” he said sternly. “Just take them off.”
Victoria frowned at him, but then moved to remove her scarf. “At least Dr. Jekyll didn't bother me about this,” she said, pulling it off her neck. Then she moved to take her coat off as well, and put her clothes to the side, and finally removed her gloves before adding that to the articles of clothing as well. Once that was done, Grye stood up to gently help her lie down on the bed, before getting the cold cloth and placing it on her forehead once more.
She looked up at him once more. He expected her to say something cutting, or at least rude. But instead, what came out of her mouth was, “...I do not understand. Why are you helping me?”
“Because...”
Why was he helping her?
“...Because I don't want you to feel scared,” he admitted.
Whether or not she thought that was a silly thing for him to say, she didn't voice it. Instead, she nodded absently, and closed her eyes, breathing gently.
“Thank you...my dear Henry...” she said absently. Then she seemed to drift off into sleep at last.
Once she finished talking, Grye lingered for a while above her, before sitting back down onto the chair. He had an idea about who she was talking about, but he wasn't going to ask her about it.
Truth be told, he wasn't expecting to meet the famous Frankenstein this night, much less be in a room in an inn with her while helping bring her fever down. He had just expected a quiet night at home, reading a book, preparing a lesson, or grading papers. (Well, luckily, the next day was one when he didn't have to come in to teach his students. So that was one more worry off his mind.)
And if he had been told he would meet Frankenstein that night, then he wouldn't have expected her to be like this, sick and in need of help that she kept refusing, to the extent that she would escape from the grasp of the Society and find her own cure.
And that hadn't gone well for her, either.
Well, that was both their expectations dashed to pieces.
In short, it was a crazy night. But to Dr. Grye, this was possibly not the craziest night he'd had.
Hopefully.