Chapter Text
Henry Jekyll had never really built up a true handling for the HJ7 serum. It’d stay in his body long enough to go through its effects, and then it would force itself back out through anywhere it could. Thick, bubbling green goop slithering out of his eyes, nose and mouth.
Edward, on the other hand, knew how to keep it down. How to swallow down the chemical bile and get on with his night. That doesn’t mean that Henry doesn’t end up throwing it up afterward anyway.
Which is why when Henry wakes up in bed with Lanyon, he’s waking up to an almost violent tickle in his throat that has him leaning over the edge of the bed coughing up spit and luminescent green goop.
“Henry?” came the groggy voice of the gentleman still under the covers behind him. Henry did his best to choke down the feeling long enough to respond, but only succeeded in making it worse. He cringed at the feeling of Edward’s presence slipping out of the subconscious and onto the only mirror in the room, “Henry, love, what’s wrong?”
‘Jeez, man, even I’d have the decency to leave the room first,’ Edward mocked, and Henry sent him a withering glare before turning his attention back to the ground as he wheezed.
Something slipped from Henry’s eyes, too thick to be tears and too thick to be blood. He reached up to wipe with away, and flicked off more of the green goop. Great, so this was just the muck that Edward forgot to cough up early in the night coming back to haunt him.
‘Well sorry I didn’t want to spend thirty minutes gagging up goop! It would’ve cut into my time with the fireworks and you damn well know it, Jekyll!’
“Oh god, what is that?!” Henry could feel Lanyon rush up from the bed, his footsteps hitting the ground until he was barely in the edges of Henry’s vision, slipping around the growing puddle on the ground, “Henry, breathe, love,” he soothed, taking a place on the bed beside the other doctor and rubbing a hand down his back.
Henry’s muscles quivered as he gasped for air, coughing and then gagging dryly. That should be the last of it, god Henry was going to have words with his other half when Lanyon was no longer in the room.
“Are you alright?” Lanyon worried, seeming to catch on that Henry was no longer puking up a chemical he must have ingested by the way the neo-alchemist was simply sucking in shaky breaths and wiping off his face.
Henry nodded, shaking off his hand in the direction of the floor, “I’m fine, Robert,” he replied, his entire body following it with a shiver and another dry gag that seemed determined to prove him wrong.
“I’ll get you some water,” the alchemist nodded, pulling in a shaky breath.
‘Ick,’ Hyde cringed, and Henry rolled his eyes, ‘See? This is why I don’t… do that,’ the ghostly figure of Henry’s other half gestured at the mess on the floor, Jekyll looking up at him with an irritated expression. They hardly got enough sleep as it was, and the result of the HJ7 being evicted from their bodies only got worse the longer Edward repressed it.
For example, that mess at the Blackfog Bazaar a few months ago. Henry had been throwing up, coughing, and dry heaving for an hour! At least Hyde had the occasional decency to not hold it in when he didn’t have somewhere to be, or when he knew he’d be out for an extended period of time.
Sometimes he didn’t.
“Prick,” Henry muttered.
‘Prude,’
“Gremlin,”
‘Scientist,’ Edward sneered.
“How is that an insult?” Henry scrunched his nose up (of which kind of burned at the moment- in the way your nose burns when you inhale water).
Edward gestured at him as if that summed anything up, and Henry merely rolled his eyes, ‘At least I’m not dating someone who could not only get us hanged for-,’
“Hung,”
‘-whatever it is you like to call love but could also break your heart into so many tiny pieces. You know who has to deal with the fallout of that? Me! The Spirit of London at Night,’ Henry made mocking noises childishly, ‘doesn’t do heartbreak, Jekyll!’
“You say that like you haven’t been pining after him just as much as I have since I made you,” Henry returned, eyes snapping to the doorway as he caught sight of Lanyon, a green-ish blush spreading across the doctor's face that was quickly followed by a violent bout of nausea.
‘Ew,’ Hyde cringed, ghostly form stepping back as if the neon green goop Henry just puked up again would get on his already trashed shoes.
“Oh, feck off,” Henry muttered, accent slipping through.
“Well that’s a little rude to the person bringing you tea for your undoubtedly aching throat, Dr. Jekyll,” came a new voice, and Henry’s head snapped up to see Rachel.
“Rachel?” he croaked, clearing his throat and wiping away more chemical-induced vomit.
“That’s me! Goodness, Dr. J you’ve made quite a mess,” she sighed, stepping around the puddle on the ground to hand him a teacup, “Dr. Lanyon came down to get you a glass of water, and I couldn’t not come help,” Henry looked down at the teacup, scowling at his- Edward’s- reflection in the liquid.
“Thank you,” he looked up, offering a weak smile to her. The bed dipped behind him and he glanced back to see Lanyon taking a seat, eyeing him worriedly. The alchemist looked away.
“What’s got you up so late, vomiting green goop?” Rachel asked worriedly, “That can’t be healthy, are you testing your potions on yourself again?” Henry laughed.
“You could say that,” he sipped the tea, a small smile still on his lips, “I am truly sorry to have drawn your attention away from… well, whatever it is you were doing down in the kitchen tonight. Why don’t you head back and get some sleep?” Rachel looked at him, her face scrunched slightly like she was sizing him up.
Finally, she sighed, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” her voice had softened, worried.
“Yes, of course,” Henry reached to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder, but thought better when he saw the way the light reflected on it, “I’ll clean up as well,” he chuckled, “Go on, get some rest,” he gestured vaguely toward the door, and Rachel stood.
“If you’re sure, you get some more sleep as well!” she commanded, and Henry rolled his eyes with that still present smile, “And if I don’t see you down in the kitchens come morning so I know you’re okay, I’ll be coming up here myself!” she threatened, before standing from the bed.
The woman closed the door behind her, and Henry sighed, setting the teacup down on the nearby bedside table and standing to find something to clean up his mess. He’d need to change, as well.
“Are you…” Lanyon began, Henry barely sparing a glance back at him, “Who were you talking to?”
“Nobody,” Henry replied quickly, eyeing Edward as he laughed, “Myself, you know how it is, my love,” he pulled cleaning supplies from the bottom of his closet out, narrowly avoiding knocking over the pile of medical supplies sitting next to it for when Edward would leave him with more than a scratch from his nightly escapades.
“I don’t think I do,” Lanyon replied hesitantly, watching his boyfriend mop up the mess he’d made with a distasteful look (Henry barely look phased by the situation. If anything he might’ve looked annoyed. Lanyon didn’t miss the way his gaze would occasionally snap to the side or to the mirror- it was a habit he’d noticed in Henry that was certainly something Lanyon wanted to figure out), “Henry, what’s going on with you?”
The doctor sighed, sitting back on his legs from where he’d gotten down on the ground, “It’s truly nothing, Robert,”
“If it were nothing you wouldn’t be throwing up glowing green chemicals,” as if for effect, Henry turned and coughed wetly into his arm, staining the nightshirt more-so.
Henry scrunched his face up, looking to the side then back to the ground, “It’s simply the side effects of a potion I had tested, I didn’t mean to worry you,” he shut down again.
“If it were the side effects of a potion we both know you’d be up and writing away in your journal before you even remembered to wipe up the mess you’d made,” Landon countered, and Henry winced as if he'd been hit, looking toward the side again.
Henry muttered something, of which sounded suspiciously like “Quiet,” before he sighed and reached a hand up to cover part of his face, “Can we not just forget about it?” he asked tiredly, red eyes hidden behind the shield of his pale hand.
“Not if you’re hiding things like this from me, Henry,” Lanyon decided, even when Henry sent him a pleading look, hand falling into his lap, “No, you just woke up vomiting… that!” he gestured, and Henry cringed, “Something is wrong and you aren’t telling anybody what.”
‘...Are you going to tell him?’ Edward asked, his tone softer than it had any right to be. Henry knew the normal for his other half: loud, always moving, green eyes wide and too-sharp teeth posed in a grin. His other half wasn’t this- sounding like a scared child.
Henry leaned forward, continuing to mop up the mess before it stained the floors, “I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you, Lanyon,” he decided on, seeing Edward seem to curl in on himself in the space beside him.
“Allowed to? Are you…” Lanyon hesitated, “Is someone forcing you to test their… potions? Are you being blackmailed or threatened or-,”
“No,” Henry shut him down quickly before his lover could spiral into a train of thought that couldn’t be easily dissuaded, “Trust me, if I were being threatened or blackmailed it’d probably be for a lot more than testing potions,” his tone held a joke, yet nobody laughed. Not even Edward.
‘You can tell him,’ Edward allowed, voice still holding that uncharacteristic softness, ‘If you want to tell him, tell him,’ the softness hardened, not into something hostile but more as a way for Edward to try and reclaim the dignity he so desperately clung to.
Henry looked toward the younger-looking figure. He was still curled in on himself, sitting on the nearby ground with his legs tucked into his chest. However, he’d straightened out his back in an effort to look more menacing, to look larger (something he so often did it was hardly something of note,) and schooled his face into an impassive expression.
“Do you remember my research?” Henry inquired, dropping the soiled linens into the bucket he’d brought out from the closet, “From a few years ago, before I met Hyde,”
Lanyon paused, why would Henry specifically mention Hyde? What… “Your research on… splitting the soul?” he asked hesitantly, not sure if he liked where this was going.
Jekyll nodded, “Yes, that,” he sighed, standing from the ground and turning to the wash basin held in his room to rinse his hands, splashing some of the water on his face and causing droplets of shimmering water to splatter on the ground around him, “Well, I did more than read books day in and day out for it. I went on an expedition, I collected resources, I…” Henry glanced toward Edward, who had moved back into the mirror-like he was considering vanishing into the subconscious but wasn’t quite willing to, “I experimented,”
“Experimented?” Lanyon repeated, “Henry, what did you do?”
Dr. Jekyll turned away from the basin, briefly drying his hands on a nearby towel and then heading for his closet, “I created a serum. It didn’t work on the first couple tries, as few things do, but eventually…” the doctor pulled a fresh set of nightclothes from the drawer, “I did succeed. I successfully took all of the… perceived evil parts of myself, everything I didn’t like, and I separated them,” he pulled off the soiled clothes, tugging on the new ones.
“Henry, what does this have to do with Hyde? Why would you specifically mention him?” Lanyon finally asked, denying the thought that was pressing itself so firmly into his mind.
Henry looked back at him, then toward the mirror, “Edward Hyde is the part of my soul I separated,” he admitted finally, quickly looking back into the dark wardrobe, “I still take the serum. Or rather, the HJ7. It… transforms me into him, he gets to have his fun exploring the streets of London or bothering the Lodgers, and I get to be free from the constant work.”
Lanyon was shocked into silence. His lover was, by all senses of the phrase, an entirely different person. He had a second person hidden just beneath the surface that he transformed into, “Why would you let him do that? Why would- why would you do that? Hyde is a criminal!” Henry turned back to him, now properly dressed and donning an irritated look.
“He is not,” he denied, “Sure, he gets into trouble, picks fights with people he shouldn’t pick fights with and fools around a bit more than I would like,” he waved a hand dismissively, moving to grab the bucket and place it further from the bed to be dealt with when the sun had risen, “But he isn’t a criminal.”
“He blew up-!”
“No, he didn’t,” Henry massaged the bridge of his nose, trying not to snap at Lanyon. Edward was just as irritated by the responses they were getting, but both understood it despite this, “I blamed it on him because the police needed somebody to blame. The fire was a mistake, a result of Hyde’s carelessness-,”
‘Hey!’
Henry shot a look at the mirror that silenced his other half, “Because he dropped something wooden onto a man with a flamethrower,” he turned away from the mirror, taking a seat in a nearby chair instead of returning to the bed.
Lanyon stared at his lover for a moment longer, searching for something he would not find and trying to decide which questions he should ask- which questions he could ask. After the mistake he’d made all those years ago in university and when Henry had finally snapped and yelled at him about how he had been in love with Lanyon and he still was and he’d only agreed to end things because he was under the impression Lanyon didn’t love him- he’d been careful with what he said around the admittedly unstable (quite a bit because of Lanyon…) character.
Henry Jekyll was a stubborn, self-sacrificing fool who would throw himself off of a building and pretend it was for himself for Lanyon before he admitted his feelings were hurt.
“Why do you still take the… the HJ7?”
Henry frowned, seeming to try and think of a response, “At first it was because I was still working on the serum. Because I had fun as Hyde,” he gestured, “And then it was because I was guilty, because I had just created another living being and locking them away, not letting them live their life once I’d grown tired of it and I couldn’t do that to him.”
“Is the serum hurting you?” Lanyon followed, continuing before Jekyll has a chance to respond, “Do you always… vomit it back up at night? Like that?”
Henry hesitated, “Yes,” he stared, tone hinting that there was more to it, “It… hurts to transform, and my body rejects the serum once it’s done its job,” he admits, “Hyde can handle it just fine, he can swallow it down and go have his fun,” his face turned to one of annoyance, “But then he turns back into me and I have to deal with it being twice as bad because the first dose is still in our system plus the dose to turn back,” his tone turned bitter, and if he wasn't admitting he was essentially hurting himself then Lanyon would’ve laughed at the way he pouted.
“I don’t like thinking of you hurting yourself,” Lanyon admitted, “Especially for…” he paused, Hyde was part of Henry, would insulting him be insulting Henry?
Henry looked toward the mirror again, muttering once again. “Don’t insult him,” was what Lanyon caught, causing the man on the bed to frown.
“Can you talk to him?” he asked, “Is that why you were talking to yourself when I returned? You were talking to him?” he looked to the mirror as if he’d see something there he hadn’t seen before.
Henry looked back at him with wide eyes, before blushing (pink this time- thank god), “Yes, he’s… almost always around,”
“Almost?”
Henry hummed, his face turning to one of thought, “The one who isn’t in control has three options,” He began, adjusting in his chair, “He can stay here, either in the reflection of he who’s in control or manifesting in a… hallucination, of sorts. He can go into the unconscious, which is our mind, or the subconscious, which is equal to simply not existing for a while,”
Lanyon turned the words over in his mind, “Is that what happened at the ball?” Henry cringed.
‘I’m still sorry,’ Edward apologized, ‘I didn’t think they’d be that bad, I just wanted out,’
“You’re just upset they bothered you too,” Henry replied without thinking, massaging the bridge of his nose, “Not really,” he looked back up to Lanyon, not seeming to notice the confusion on the man's face, “Hyde had discovered… our nightmares, in the unconscious. He was throwing a tantrum,-”
‘It wasn’t a tantrum! It was- was-,’
“A tantrum,” he repeated turning to where Hyde had now manifested fully with an offended expression and crossed arms, “and inflicting full-blown hallucinations. Most of which were… quite disturbing. The only reason he stopped was because the nightmares affected him as well when he finally got a hold of the HJ7,”
“...Are you talking to him now?” Lanyon asked, “I’m hoping some of that wasn’t directed at me,” his comments was punctuated by an awkward chuckle.
“Yes, sorry,” Henry’s eyes widened, “I… I don’t know why, I’m used to ignoring him,” he chuckled as well, this more abash that awkward.
“It’s fine,” Lanyon brushed off, “You can talk to him if you want to, I’m sure I can use context to guess when you aren’t referring to me,” he offered, “How bad were the nightmares?”
Henry barked out a short laugh, “Awful,” he replied, “At the event specifically I had been talking with some of the women there when I felt something hit my hand, and above me was this… writhing mess of blood and organs and eyes,” he shivered, “It lowered from the ceiling and I kept blinking the blood out of my eyes until I finally had a chance to excuse myself. A particularly common hallucination was-,”
“-Moreu. That’s why you said he wouldn’t leave you alone,” Lanyon recalled, eyes wide, “Your eyes! When you snapped at me, they turned green. Was that… Hyde? His eyes are green, correct?”
“Yes, that was him,” Henry glared at an empty space.
‘How many times do I need to apologize?!’
“Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place?” Henry snapped at his other half, who threw his arms out dramatically.
‘I don’t know! In hindsight it wasn’t exactly my best idea-,’
“Not your best idea- what would you have even done, you knew I didn’t even have the serum on me. All you succeeded in doing was making me look a fool,” Henry argued, before turning back to Lanyon with wide eyes, “Sorry.”
Lanyon waved a hand after a moment of wide eyed surprise, “I said you could talk to him,” he replied, glancing at the empty space Henry had been arguing with, “Though I will admit it’s strange to see you arguing with thin air.” Henry chuckled awkwardly.
“Yes, things would’ve been easier had I found a way to make him a body,” he joked, “But I think having a constantly active Hyde wouldn’t end well for anybody involved.”
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Henry gave him a look, ‘...Fine, fair enough.’
“I can’t help to agree,” Lanyon yawned, “I have more questions, but those can wait,” Lanyon moved to pull the covers up and return to the comfort of their shared bed, “Join me, love,” he patted the space beside him.
‘Agh, ew,’ Edward sneered, and Henry rolled his eyes, standing from the chair nonetheless, ‘You two are disgusting, I’ll be in the subconscious until the morning.’ his manifestation vanished into a puff of smoke, one that would’ve made Henry flinch years ago yet doesn’t even warrant a glance now.