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Poole was extremely worried about Dr Jekyll, from the tips of his toes to that sticky up bit of hair that would never go down no matter how much pomade he slapped on it. His secret lover had turned incredibly pale and shaken in the last few weeks, and frightened Poole so much that he hadn’t been functioning particularly well either.
He could hear Henry Jekyll, his Harry, pacing from one end of the room to the other. It was so unnerving to see him like this, not at all how an esteemed Victorian gentleman should act. Just as he was about to go in to comfort him, or listen to his troubles there was a sharp rap at the door.
“Poole?” Henry Jekyll mumbled from within the cabinet and Poole at once went to the front door, his heels clicking on the polished wooden flooring. He opened the door.
There stood Mr Gabriel Utterson, a long time friend of Jekyll’s, and to Poole’s knowledge, a past affair that was looked upon fondly, but with perished feelings.
“I’m here to see Harry.” Utterson told him sharply, almost sneering at the butler. That was like a slap to the face, but Poole could not show it due to the possibilities of the feelings sticking around, and a scandalous scene being caused.
Utterson practically shoved Poole out of the way, which was fairly easy as he was a man of smaller stature, and rushed to the door of the cabinet crying, “Jekyll! Jekyll, come out, it is me, Gabriel!”.
Poole was plainly disgusted at the thought that Mr Utterson might still harbour feelings for Jekyll, his Jekyll, but he had faith in Henry, after all he wouldn’t betray him as he had declared all his feelings towards Poole in their frequent passionate nights.
After no answer from Jekyll, Utterson sat quietly against the door for the better part of an hour, before looking at Poole with a look of such offence, then swiftly standing up and leaving.
A few days later, after this horrid encounter, Poole caught Dr Jekyll softly weeping in his bedroom. He knocked quietly, and Henry looked up and wiped his tears away before beckoning him closer.
“Alexander..” Jekyll started, but put his face in his hands shamefully.
“Go on.” Alexander Poole replied, putting his arm around his boyfriend.
Jekyll sighed deeply.
“Remember.. the drugs? The ones I take to..” he trailed off.
“Mm.”
“I- I can’t stop. I want to- but I can’t. And I’m wasting away, Alex. Just look at me! I’m half the man I used to be. And half the man you deserve.”
Poole gently placed a hand either side of his lover’s face, and kissed him.
“I love you, Harry, and I will help you stop. I will help you in whatever ways I can. However I can. We will overcome this together.”
Dr Jekyll started sobbing, and collapsed into Alexander’s arms.
“It- it hurts me.” he cried, “He hurts me.”
“Shh.” Poole stroked his back, and ran a hand through his hair.
Jekyll then pulled Poole carefully into his lap, and held him there as he cried and cried, and Poole soothed him and whispered to him.
Later that night, Henry Jekyll showed his appreciation for Alexander Poole in a very unseemly and immoral manner, but one heartily enjoyed by both the troubled doctor and his flamboyant butler.
Weeks later, and a great improvement was to be noticed in Dr Jekyll. He was much happier, looked healthier and gradually was able to see his friends once again. Poole would glare at Utterson, and Utterson would sneer back, but Jekyll still enjoyed Gabriel’s company nonetheless, much to Poole’s suspicion. He insisted on lurking in and cleaning every room they were in, keeping a close eye. However nothing ever occurred, just mere exchanging of gossip like old friends would.
Poole was extremely pleased he could help his lover. Sometimes they get snatched from you too soon. But Poole would be kept up at night by the thought that if Harry was taken from him, he wouldn’t be able to mourn publicly. Sometimes, he wished he could have taken the drugs.
At least then he might have been able to love openly.