Chapter Text
The night seemed long and quiet, a multitude of tiny white prickles decorating the ever-stretching veil of dark hovering above London, stars, shining ever so faintly through the faint cover of thick clouds and casting their soft glow upon the world below with grace. If you were to stare at the night sky, you'd notice firstly how tranquil it seemed, the only sounds in the air belonging to agitated, far-away dogs barking at the moon or stealthy cicadas buzzing away somewhere in the background amongst the tall grass. The air would be heavy, a mix of the intense summer harvest and the undeniable sting of oil and smoke staining the whole of the city. Overall, peaceful. Simple.
Two qualities heavily lacking in the party currently taking place in a manor nearby.
Dr. Jekyll had promised it'd be simple enough to attend said party, get a few drinks down their throats, converse politely with the good people of London's finest and, of course, richest. All an attempt to spread the word about their grand, up-coming exhibition and maybe try to convince a sponsor or two to support them. It was a difficult challenge, but one Jekyll was ready to embark on if it meant protecting the Society he was ever so fond of. It was a mission he had no intention of failing, and if he had to sell cheap jokes and flattering smiles to achieve it, that was all fine with him. He had worn a mask his whole life, so what if he was doing it for money now?
But alas, as many things in his life tended to be, the party was turning out to be everything but simple and the reason for that, as again was often the case, was none other than Mr. Hyde. Ever since the little gremlin managed to discover and somehow release those nightmare creatures from Jekyll's mind into the living world, the simplest of tasks were beginning to turn into feats of mental prowess. Jekyll had found his senses betraying him more often than not, his own mind tricking him in his attempt to seem like a perfectly normal gentleman.
His eyes created haunting images that deceived his sight, the most terrible of scenarios and creatures running freely across his vision. His hearing was also amongst the betrayers, bringing to life multiple sounds that were not really there and usually only crept around the doctor's nightmares. Combined with the persistent smell of fresh blood, weeks-old gore and destructive fires, the taste of something dead always sitting on the edge of his tongue and his hairs constantly on edge as if he was in danger from a predator lurking just behind his turned head, it was a miracle in itself how Jekyll had not given into drinking the formula yet. He had come close, too close for comfort, but he simply could not give into the sweet delight of letting go just yet. Not before the exhibition, that is. He had a role to play, a purpose to fulfill, and as the Society's worthy leader, much to Hyde's distaste, Jekyll was ready to power through everything his own mind threw at him. What he had not accounted for were situations outside of his control, like per say, polite chit-chat with London's elite, so was it really his fault when he was caught off guard?
"You do look rather lonely tonight." A familiar, yet so far-away voice creeped up next to the doctor, who was too busy staring at his drink while standing close to the walls, away from the general mob in the middle of the gigantic ball room. He turned his gaze towards the man, slightly surprised.
"Pardon?" Jekyll started, "Oh." Until he noticed who exactly had approached him and a smile came to replace the expression of surprise on his face. "Utterson!"
"Long time no see, old friend." The man in question smiled back, a jolly action that seemed to light up his whole face, moustache and all. He raised his own short glass, filled with a brown liquid that no doubt held an intense liquor taste, towards the doctor as courtesy.
"My God, you haven't aged a single day since I last saw you." Pleasantries were always in order, when meeting filthy rich snobs or old childhood friends alike, and Jekyll moved his wine glass, filled only half-way as the rest currently sat in his stomach, to clink it softly against the other. He took a small sip, and so did the man before him.
"You, on the other hand, look like shit." Utterson spoke with the smile still decorating his features, his dark eyes locked onto Jekyll's. The doctor scoffed lightly in agreement, deciding that a longer sip of his red wine was in order if this was going to be the topic of their conversation. "Are you doing quite alright?"
"Hah, my dear John, I won't trick you. I have certainly been better." Just as if on cue, at that moment, a particularly gruesome creature creeped into his vision from behind the nearest closet. Its yellow, sharp eyes stared widely into him from the darkness, its bloodied claws only slightly visible, making you feel as if it was hiding something worse behind that closet it crept out from. A dark pool of blood leaked from underneath it, confirming his thoughts, and the smell of death hit his nose strongly.
Jekyll took yet another sip of the wine.
"Oh Henry, you aren't overworking yourself again, are you?" The lawyer furrowed his brows in concern at the doctor's confession and sudden wild look, noticing the way he clutched his glass with both hands, as if they shook so hard he had to grasp them in one another to keep the glass from falling. He saw the way his shoulders tensed and his vision became clouded, his gaze far-away. John turned his head to follow it, landing onto a nearby pristine white closet, made of the cleanest wood and polished with golden touches and beautiful, intricate details. It was a pretty thing, but he could not understand for the life of him why it caused his friend so much distress.
"Henry." Utterson repeated, seeing how the doctor's gaze snapped back to him at once, as if he was on edge. Had he said something to stress him out this much? His friend had always had a problem with handling stress, too often pushing it down until it got too much to bear and his mind broke down on him. Something was wrong, but unlike their time in college, this time John couldn't find the cause quite exactly. Perhaps he had grown rusty from their time apart.
"Sorry. I just.. I barely got any sleep last night." The good doctor heaved a laugh, sweet sounding to most, but fake as can be to Utterson's trained ear. He could believe that at least, judging by the heavy bags under Jekyll's eyes, it seemed as if he hadn't slept in weeks. John had always wondered how a doctor could do such poor a job at taking care of his own body. It always seemed absurd to him.
"You look sick, Jekyll. Has Robert completely avoided you this whole time? Here I was under the impression that he was taking care of you, just as he had promised me." Utterson faintly reminisced about the day they parted ways last, a good couple of years ago when the lawyer had some business to attend to in the eastern part of Europe and had made Lanyon promise him to take good care of their shared friend. He had left them that day with a farewell and a promise to write each week. He was a tad of a hypocrite about keeping promises in that regard too, he amused himself.
"Quite the contrary! We have been spending a lot of time together. He has helped me in the founding of a Society, you see, for Arcane Sciences. You remember how I'd told you about it, back in college? My dream to create a place where scientists can perform experiments freely and without any judging eyes hovering over them- A place for creative liberty. Well, I am proud to say that I have done it, and I never would have been able to without the help of our dear Lanyon." 'and his family's money' was unsaid, but still it hovered in the air, known by both. Jekyll seemed to glow as he spoke with passion about his project, his eyes seemingly returning to their normal focus and glint as colour returned to his cheeks. Utterson could not help but smile back.
"I had heard something or other on the ship here about some mad scientists in London-"
"Rogue scientists." Jekyll corrected, causing Utterson to laugh.
"Of course, of course, my apologies. It has been a while, after all, I'm having a hard time keeping up with all your newfound terms."
The doctor opened his mouth to reply, ask his old friend how he had been in turn, when his eyes fell on something behind Utterson's back. Distracted, his thin lips twitched and John could practically feel the blood in Jekyll's veins run icy cold, his hairs standing at attention as if commanded to do so. Once more the lawyer turned to find what exactly had caused this reaction to his friend, only to find the perfectly normal rest of the party, where the people were currently dancing a rather unnecessarily intricate song to the live band standing just off to the side of the grand hall.
Speaking of the hall, it really was a sight to behold. Large, spacious, everything a manor's ball room promised to be and more. Pure marble decorated the floors, reflecting the countless yellow lights standing everywhere the eye could fall. If the night sky was bright with stars, this hall was enough to challenge and ultimately defeat it. Tables and chairs with majestic red cloths stood to one side of the room, each decorated with a blue and white vase holding not only silver edges but also bouquets of the most exotic and aromatic flowers anyone could dream of. The longer table meant just for serving expanded across almost the entirety of the room, proudly showing off all the kinds of culinary delights and treats the cooks of the manor had managed to come up with, ranging from colorful and undoubtedly deliciously sweet cakes as tall as an adult man to otherwise expensive and rare to come by seafood, watering the tongue just by looking at it.
Pillars of marble, dark oak wood and golden details supported the huge ceiling that stood above everyone almost threateningly and one's attention could not possibly not be attracted by the center of the ball room. A chandelier of exquisite design graced the ceiling and provided the room with light, the bulbs held by pure golden handles, passing through the thousands of crystals to cast different shades and glimmers of light to the people below, almost creating a magical glow worthy of Heaven itself.
The floor held a big design, obviously made by hand, of a golden spiral that begun right underneath the tip of the chandelier's lowest hanging crystal only to create circles with jagged edges all the way around itself multiple times and end when itself felt satisfied. Dashing black and white suits held fabulous dresses of various colours on top of said design, both using it to its full potential to dance the night away in a specific set of moves you'd know only if you belonged to high society yourself. It was rather enchanting, watching all those synchronized colours coordinate with each other and agree with the music so perfectly, it was both daunting and hypnotizing.
Even so, Utterson could not point out a single thing amiss to blame for Jekyll's odd behavior. Turning back to the man gave him the results he awaited, a friend frightened by something invisible and yet powerful enough to render him terrified in a matter of seconds. It was rather exhausting to watch, Utterson did not want to imagine how it must have felt. He reached out with one hand to the man, gently placing it upon his shoulder. It spooked the doctor out of his episode of freezing fright, causing him once again to turn his attention back to what mattered. His friend.
"Henry, I think you should get some rest." Worry littered the laywer's voice, and it did not go unnoticed by the recipient. He looked tired, too tired, his facade cracking ever so slightly around a familiar and comforting face, Henry allowing himself some room to breathe. One had to wonder just what he could have possibly gone through to cause such a change to his usually charming and level-headed stance. "I know I'm no doctor, but you should retire early for this evening. A party is no place for someone as tired as you."
The doctor looked conflicted, his eyes far-away and his thoughts elsewhere. A thousand thoughts must have ran through his head, for Utterson could practically hear him thinking, and his tired demeanor shifted to a fearful look, then a puzzled one, before finally settling on a gentle smile and a slight tilt of the head. The mask was back on.
"John, I know how much you care for me, and I dearly appreciate it." Carefully, the doctor's gloved hand cupped the man's still settled on his shoulder, bringing it back down as he held it. "But you must understand that I'm alright. A few nights of lost sleep will do nothing to stop me, surely you learnt also that in college." Charm basically oozed from him, his voice as sweet as his eyes, now reflecting the room's lights in them. He looked as if he wanted to cry.
"I don't buy it, Jekyll."
"Come on, do I look like I need help to you?" He continued before Utterson could reply with the obvious confirmation. "Besides, you look just as tired. I'm sure the boat trip was wonderful, but you must be exhausted. When did you disembark?"
"Um.. Just this morning. I knew I'd find you both here, though I haven't spoken to Lanyon yet."
"You'll get that chance tomorrow, we'll have all day to catch up!" Jekyll grabbed Utterson's shoulder and turned him around almost comically, giving him a light push to indicate he will escort him to the exit. "Until then, you need rest. Me and Robert have business here, while all you can do is drink and I'm sure you've had quite enough of that already."
"Hey, I'm not the alcoholic here."
"It's called social drinking, just ask Robert about it. Tomorrow."
That, at least, gave Utterson some peace of mind as he scoffed a soft chuckle. If Jekyll was well enough to joke around and poke fun at others, maybe all hope was not yet lost. If John was truthful with himself, he'd have to admit how tired he was, the long boat trip still clinging onto him desperately, a hint of sea induced nausea still on the back of his mind and, unfortunately, his throat. Still, this was no place to discuss something as serious as Jekyll's health, not in front of so many people. It was a delicate subject that deserved delicate handling, meaning pestering Jekyll over telling him what's wrong in an office, over a glass of wine, alone. Not to mention the fact that asking Jekyll himself would most likely be a fruitless endeavor, knowing the doctor's mule-inspired stubbornness, so he would need to talk to Lanyon beforehand too, to see what had happened. Maybe he held the answers Utterson currently didn't.
"Alright Henry, I concede." Utterson announced as they walked from their little corner, approaching the huge front door which was instantly opened by a servant next to it, bowing ever so slightly as they passed. It wasn't hard to avoid the dancers in the middle of the room if you stuck close to the walls, and they made their way relatively easily, much to Utterson's disappointment. Sure he had no problem leaving if it meant spending more time with his friends tomorrow, but he was still worried, not to mention all the time they had spent apart. John wanted to help his friend, but it was difficult knowing he'd only be a nuisance right now. Jekyll had enough on his plate as was, adding more stress would basically be a death sentence, not to mention his perfect brown hair would get stained with gray streaks, a very real possibility judging by the way Jekyll barely held himself together. It was better to leave, for now. "I'm not promising that at the first light tomorrow I won't come for you, though. I miss Poole, too."
"Of course, I'll be waiting for you. After we take our breakfast, we'll meet up with Robert and go on a walk to catch up, just the three of us. Sound good?"
"Sounds wonderful." Utterson couldn't help but smile again at the mere thought of spending the day with his dear friends he had missed ever so much. He stepped outside the manor, standing at the top of the grand staircase leading down into the front garden, trees and bushes of various kind blending perfectly with ever the variety of flowers. Despite its beauty, he turned around to catch one last glimpse of the doctor, who was sweetly smiling back at him. "I shall see you tomorrow, then?"
"You can sleep safely, John." Jekyll's mouth fell agape for a moment, as if he wanted to speak more, tell Utterson something forbidden, before he visibly forced it close and simply put on the same fake expression he held before. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Henry." Utterson echoed, debating whether to ask where Lanyon was or whether he could at least greet him, before it was too late and Jekyll had already turned around, his coat's tail flapping behind him as he returned back to the buzzing mob behind him, blending in his environment as one of London's finest.
Utterson took one last sip from the glass still in his hand, to help him sleep easier, handing it to the servant who had opened the door for him before making his way down the stairs, basking in the chilly air of the night. The nightsky above his head was truly a wondrous sight to behold, but it did nothing to ease his mind. He knew, logically, that it'd be easier to catch up with his friends tomorrow, when they'd all be alone and much more well-rested. It would make for easier conversation and while they caught him up with this new Society of theirs, he'd tell them all about his travels to Europe and all the wonderful things he had seen and experienced. It would be fun, especially with a bottle of wine or two added to the mix. It was a better idea, overall.
So why was an uneasy feeling sitting stubbornly in his stomach, begging him not to go? Utterson stopped dead in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to the grand door that was being pushed closed.
He sighed and at last left, unknowingly walking away from the last time he'd ever see his oh so dear friend alive.