Chapter Text
Prologue.
“The only responsible solution…”
Hyde watched, his gut sinking as Jekyll grabbed bottles of HJ7. it couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t. He’d tried so hard, worked so much to win against it all, and here Jekyll was, throwing away his life as if it was nothing!
Hyde wasn’t even supposed to be a full person, but he was something, wasn’t he? And whatever the fuck that was deserved to live, goddammit.
What even are you, Mr. Hyde?
Rage seethed through his veins, and Hyde felt his form dissolve corporeally into a mass of swirling green colors, all flashing and migraine-inducing.
“…is to remove the temptation entirely.”
“NO!” Hyde roared and flew in front of Henry, desperately grabbing for the bottles, but he was still incorporeal. He was still nothing. Nothing, nothing…
Jekyll glared. “You can’t stop this, Hyde,” he said testily. “I’m the one in control now.”
“No, no! I will not-” Edward felt like he was about to cry, bizarrely, as his blood boiled and seethed. He could almost feel his hands reaching up to shake Jekyll in anger. “I will NOT let you take this away from me! I WON’T!”
Jekyll ignored him, and began to dump the bottles into the sink.
Hyde, for the first time in his life as a separate being, felt complete despair sink into his bones. He felt the black, inky void start to curl around him.
But no. He wouldn’t accept what Jekyll was doing to him. He wouldn’t.
Hyde, with every last bit of strength he had, reached into the center of their being and pulled. There was something deep down there, and at his call, it responded, and a wave of earth-shattering pain broke the final barrier.
His body fell to the floor, all remaining bottles of HJ7 cracked and broken. The scientist, sometimes known as Jekyll, sometimes known as Hyde, raised a hand that was covered in melted skin.
He began to scream.
6 hours later…
Lanyon looked over the mountain of invoices again, trying not to let his head flop down to the desk in despair. God. It was just so much to do for something he didn’t even care about.
He was going to quit, though. All of this dreadful work would be gone, and he’d have time to himself again.
Knock knock knock.
Hm. Lanyon got up, adjusting his shirt. He hadn’t expected any visitors today- the exhibition was in a few days, sure, but Henry was far too busy to talk beforehand.
Had to be a friend of Everly’s, then, or perhaps the cops. They had said they wanted to speak again once Hyde got arrested.
God, Hyde. That man was infuriating and perplexing. How the hell had he known about Lanyon’s university days? Lanyon would’ve remembered his name, surely, even if he had forgotten a good few, Hyde seemed different. Far too spirited to be like those boys he’d toyed with and forgotten. And why had Jekyll hired him, for that matter?
Maybe he didn’t know that Hyde had gone to their university. Lanyon certainly hoped he didn’t.
Knock knock knock.
Lanyon sighed and got up, walking to the door and opening it.
He froze once he saw Rachel. She wasn’t supposed to know his address. Yet, she was definitely in front of him, and she immediately grabbed his arm and started to drag him away.
“I- dammit, Rachel, wait!” He pulled his arm away. Damn, she was strong.
“We can’t wait,” she said fiercely. “We have to go now.”
“What, has Hyde been found by the police?”
“No, it’s- Jekyll’s gone.”
Oh.
Lanyon paused, trying to rein in the panic flowing through his veins. “I-alright. Let me lock the door, then.”
Lanyon locked the door slowly, trying to ignore his slightly trembling hands. It was fine. He was fine.
“Rachel,” he said as he stepped to meet her. “What do you mean by gone?”
The problem was, gone could’ve meant any number of things. It could’ve meant that Henry had vanished into thin air, or he’d simply left a note and had to go to help some relative in Scotland or something.
But from Rachel’s panicked face, Lanyon got the sinking impression the meaning was far more permanent.
He’d been worried about this before. Jekyll had been at the point of utter despair only 3 years ago for some still-unknown reason. Lanyon had kept a sharp eye, then, and tried to reassure himself.
But things had gotten better. Sure, Henry was still acting quite odd nowadays, but it wasn’t with the previous weight of despair. It was something new.
“He’s left to do some-some science thing!” Rachel exclaimed, entering the carriage. How on earth had she procured it? “He left a note, but-“
God. Fucking science experiments. Fucking Jekyll. He’d said before he’d be happy to die for his work, and now here Henry was, fucking lost.
“Of course he did,” Lanyon muttered as he walked into the carriage. Already he wanted to scream at whoever was driving it to go faster. “Lord. Have you told the police?”
The thing was, Lanyon was good at understanding people’s tells. Sure, the actual emotions were beyond him, but their mannerisms and gestures told the whole story. He wasn’t able to know what they actually felt, but he could always notice when something was hidden.
Rachel’s leg shift made him focus in.
“Er, no, not yet,” she muttered.
“Why?”
She grimaced, before looking up and steeling herself with stubbornness. “It has to do with Hyde.”
Oh, lovely. The only news that could’ve made the day worse.
“What.” Lanyon could almost feel the vitriol drip off his mouth.
“It’s- just read the note.” she shoved it over to him.
It was barely a note. It was simply a slip of paper scribbled with some writing.
Hello all. I have been grievously injured, and will need some time to recover.
Yours, Jekyll.
The note was covered in some red liquid. Lanyon hoped it was not blood.
“And no one knows where he’s been since?”
Rachel nodded quickly.
Well, it was certainly odd. Henry, if he was injured in some way, would’ve tried to solve it in the office to make sure the Exhibition would go off without a hitch. He also would’ve at least told Lanyon that something was wrong.
Furthermore, he would’ve included more detail. Since Jekyll practically ran the society all by himself (or had, for a while), he’d always been worried whenever he’d needed to travel away for even a day or so. He’d always briefed Lanyon thoroughly and extensively, and this note was neither.
“But what does this have to do with Hyde?” Lanyon asked. There was no mention of him on the note.
“His clothes were found in the room, half-burnt. Plus, police say they sighted him running away from the society the night Jekyll disappeared.”
“I…” this was all odd. This was incredibly odd. “Are we sure that Hyde didn’t- didn’t kidnap him, or something?”
“Hyde wouldn’t do that!” Rachel exclaimed defensively. Lanyon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “He’s too kind for that!”
“Too kind?”
She paused. “Maybe not kind, but…” she sighed. “He loved that cloak. Said it made him look like a ‘true scoundrel’. He wouldn’t just leave it behind.”
From the little he’d seen of Hyde, that did fit. He seemed like an extensively sentimental man who was deeply attached to how people perceived him, if his reaction to Lucy’s thorough insults meant anything.
“Besides,” Rachel continued, “You know he’d make a fuss about capturing someone.”
Lanyon agreed with that more easily.
“Alright,” he said wearily, dispelling any hope of quitting in the next few days. “Where do we start?”
Rachel’s eyes brightened with hope, and Lanyon remembered that she was also Jekyll’s friend. She’d known Henry almost as long as he did, even if Lanyon did have distinctly non- friendship emotions complicating this whole mess.
“Well, I wanted you to look through Henry’s office while I got Jasper to round up the lodgers.”
“Why Jasper?”
She shrugged. “He’s good with people.”
Lanyon raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. She was possibly the only ally he had, what with all the lodgers falling head-over-heels for Frankenstein.
The very thought of Frankenstein’s name sent a wave of nausea coursing through Robert’s stomach. He vividly remembered Henry declaring that he’d sacrifice himself for science at the atrocious play, and now she was there, in the flesh. Lanyon worried that if Frankenstein had been the slightest bit encouraging to Jekyll, his spiral into constant work might’ve been worse.
Henry did do things out of spite, however, so maybe Lanyon was just stuck with his friend working himself half to death no matter what.
Lovely.
The carriage stopped in front of the Society. Since it was Sunday, it seemed most of the protesters were out in church. One bright spot in his awful day.
Lanyon stepped out, vaguely pressing his suit down. His hands were trembling. Good to know he was still panicking, then.
As he stepped in, the lodgers swooped like a pack of vultures, babbling nonsense about whether the exhibition would still happen in the next couple of days, or if Jekyll was truly gone.
It would’ve been nice if they could’ve been this considerate last week, but Lanyon wasn’t feeling receptive to change at that moment.
“Alright!” he shouted, reveling in how they all fell silent. It seemed his father’s lessons hadn’t been for nothing in the end. “Jekyll has disappeared, but Rachel and I are taking care of it.”
“What about the exhibition?”
“It’s still happening,” Lanyon snapped. He resisted the urge to groan as complaints started to rise.
Henry had said these lodgers were the most intelligent people in Britain, and yet they couldn’t comprehend that money was needed for living. Frankly, Lanyon was starting to lose his patience.
“Look,” he said sharply. “You are all currently being housed because of money from people at the exhibition. If you want to be further housed, you will start on your project.”
“But Frankenstein said-”
“Frankenstein had been puking blood for the last few months until Henry helped her.”
The dissenter fell silent. Wasn’t that ironic? Here Frankenstein was, preaching scientific values, but only Henry had ultimately made the right call.
“Ideals are nice,” Lanyon said, and god, he was channeling his father right now, wasn’t he? He’d need to talk to Everly later. Christ. “But what will keep you away from the protesters is money , and we can only get that if you work on your damn projects.”
The room was stone silent.
“Now. Get to work.”
They all filed out, a few shooting scared looks his way.
“Er, Lanyon?” Rachel said meekly. That was not something Lanyon had ever expected to see from Rachel. “You… you alright?”
Hm. He was incredibly irritated, wasn’t he? Yes, he was. He was absolutely boiling with irritation and annoyance because Henry was gone, and these stupid lodgers who had been plaguing his friend (and himself) were just making things worse.
He needed to quit.
“I will be,” Lanyon said as he straightened his cuffs, “once we start to sort this out. Rachel, could you bring Jasper with you to Henry’s office?” It seemed Jekyll had taken Jasper under his wing, so maybe something related to that had happened. Or, at least, maybe Jasper had talked to him more recently.
She nodded and headed off.
Lanyon walked up to Henry's office, feeling hesitation crystallize as he held the doorknob. Once he opened the door, he acknowledged that Henry had disappeared to who knows where, probably accompanied by Hyde. He already had one mystery to solve with that night janitor, and yet another problem was being caused by him.
How had he known about Lanyon in college? Lanyon would’ve had something with him in college, that was sure, but Hyde hadn’t been there. Lanyon was sure of it. Yet, there the man was, claiming knowledge and firsthand experience of his shitty behavior.
Whatever. That was for later. He needed to get to the bottom of what was going on right at that moment.
Lanyon opened Jekyll’s office door. The office was, frankly, a mess.
An unknown substance was spilled all over the carpet- it had singed it terribly. Throughout the rest of the room, bottles and vials were shattered. Hyde’s cape was there, tattered and torn. The window was forced open. It had to be where the possible perpetrator had fled.
Lanyon wrenched his eyes away from the window, a thousand horrible images conjuring up.
The problem was there was no motive for whatever had happened, and that meant there was nowhere to start besides Hyde. But Hyde couldn’t have kidnapped him. That made even less sense since the asshole wouldn’t pass up a moment to brag.
So that left Jekyll leaving by choice. That didn’t make sense, though. Jekyll had been obsessed with the exhibition- he’d needed it to succeed, and he’d sacrificed hours and hours toiling away for those lodgers. He wouldn’t just up and leave, so there was no clear answer.
The only piece of evidence at that moment was the liquid on the ground. And, possibly, that cape. Lanyon had no idea what to do with either thing.
“You asked for me, sir?”
Lanyon turned around to see Jasper. He couldn’t help but feel relieved at the sight of him, as the young man had to know some science if he was living here.
“Yes, I did. I assume Rachel’s explained what happened to Henry.”
Jasper blinked, and his eyes… they didn’t narrow, but they focused ever-so-slightly, and Lanyon could feel himself being read like a book. It was unnerving to be on the receiving end of that process.
“Er, a bit,” Jasper admitted. He shrugged, averting his eyes. Clearly still unconfident, so he wasn’t trying to make a play for power when reading Lanyon. That was good, at least. “Mostly that no one knew what had happened, actually.”
“Indeed. How much do you know about alchemy?”
Jasper winced a bit. “Not much. I know more about animals. Alchemy would be Ito or Frankenstein’s area, I’d think.”
Well, Lanyon wasn’t going to speak with Frankenstein, and Ito was who knows where, working on her project. “Still. Anything you can surmise from what’s spilled on the carpet?”
“Er, not rea-” Jasper began, but he froze. “I, actually, yes.” he crouched down, picking at a strand of carpet. “This potion would need eyebat fur and fire-phoenix ashes to do this, but that’d make no sense…”
“I see.” Lanyon hadn’t truly paid attention to most of Jekyll’s science ramblings, and it was coming back to bite him. “What would those be used for?”
“Well, eyebat fur would be a good catalyst to causing brain changes,” Jasper said absently, plucking a few more strands of fabric. “And fire-phoenix ashes are a good effect enhancer for most stuff, I think, but that’s a lot for a person’s digestive system.” His gaze strayed towards the broken glass. “especially for one bottle.”
“I… see.” Lanyon was starting to feel queasy. “Why do you mention the digestive system?”
“Because eyebat fur is also the only brain-modification ingredient that can be digested,” Jasper said casually. He seemed to be far less self-conscious when fully focused, and focused he was. He’d taken out a small glass vial and was putting a couple of the carpet pieces into it. “Did- did Jekyll ever mention anything about some sort of medicine?”
“No, never.” Lanyon felt that cold, sinking feeling in his gut again. Was this another thing Henry had hidden from him while withdrawing? “He didn’t take anything in college, so it would have to be recent.”
Jasper’s face flashed through a number of expressions before he turned away from Lanyon. “Er. oh. Alright then.”
“Are you quite alright, Jasper?” Lanyon said hesitantly. That anxiety had returned full-force.
“Yep, all good!” Jasper squeaked.
Lanyon doubted that, but he didn’t have the time nor energy to deal with it. “Alright. Could you grab Ito for me, then? I need her advice on all of… this.”
“Right.” Jasper walked out hurriedly, shutting the door behind him.
Lanyon felt like he had missed out on something key, but he couldn’t get himself to give a fuck. It seemed to be that type of day, and it probably would be that way for the next week or so, even if they found Henry.
Oh god. They might not even find him. Jekyll wasn’t a minor figure. He was practically famous across all of London, considering the amount of friends (and enemies) he’d made with the society. If no one had spotted him, that meant this was going to be far more difficult than Lanyon had anticipated.
Lanyon felt his pulse race and his hands start to shake. This had happened a couple times before. As one of the few black men in high circles, it had been common for young boys to bully him, and before he’d learned how to fight back with words, he’d always reacted like this. He’d freeze, and feel his blood pump double-time.
Distantly, Lanyon felt his feet move towards the telephone in Jekyll’s office. He rang up his house number.
“Er, who is this?” Everly said, her voice echoing from the speaker.
“It’s- it’s me, Everly.”
“Oh. I noticed you weren’t working on paperwork this morning. Are you alright?”
“Could you-” Lanyon grit his teeth, forcing the words. He was not good at this, but he knew what he needed to do to function. “Could you tell me about your most recent piece again.”
He heard her pause, meaning she knew something was up. He prayed she wouldn’t ask.
“...alright.” Lanyon nearly collapsed in relief. “So, I was employing a new chord progression for this piece, which was supposed to be in B flat major…”
Her words washed over him, and the feeling in his hands slowly came back. He was not attracted to women, but honestly, he would always be glad that Everly was the one he’d been forced to marry.
“Thank you,” Lanyon forced out as the conversation came to a pause.
“No problem, but what happened?”
“Henry’s disappeared.”
“What?”
Lanyon had talked to her about Jekyll a few times, but never their previous relationship. It wasn’t out of any sense of propriety- he’d talked to her about a good number of his other college flings- but to acknowledge how important Henry had been to him, and how much their separation had hurt, would make it more real.
Still, she knew he was important. Jekyll was perhaps the only person Lanyon talked about kindly with any frequency besides maybe Rachel, and he didn’t even know Rachel that well.
“No one knows where he is,” Lanyon said. “And the exhibition’s in less than a week, and there’s evidence Hyde went with him, and it’s just- god, it’s a mess.”
“Oh lord, Robert. I’m so sorry.” That was another nice thing about Everly- she didn’t give out platitudes she didn’t mean. She was a kind woman, and she was kind enough to know how much it hurt when a person’s comforts were false.
“It’s alright.” Lanyon sighed. “I’ll manage.”
“I’m sure you will. I expect you’ll be busy this week?”
“Very.”
“I’ll make a note, then. May I bring a friend over?”
“Yes, but make sure to tell me when you do.”
“I always do. Good luck on your manhunt.”
“I’m going to need it,” Lanyon grumbled. Everly’s responding laugh made it just slightly easier to stand as he hung up.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Lanyon?”
He whirled around. He’d completely forgotten that he’d asked for Ito. His brain was far too scattered today. “Oh, yes. The spill on the carpet- I assumed it was from some alchemical brew, and Jasper said you were a neo alchemist.”
“That I am.”
“Then I’m asking you to look at it.” Lanyon leveled the statement with a look that made it clear it wasn’t just an ask.
She shrugged and crouched down, pulling out a pair of focals to put on instead of her glasses. She looked down at the stain and winced.
Lovely.
“Oh, that thing is powerful,” she said with a whistle.
“I had assumed from the little Jasper had mentioned,” Lanyon said grimly. “He talked about eyebat fur and firephoenix ashes.”
“Yeah, those were probably used in this. Along with a whole lot of other things.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Well, it’s certainly powerful.” Ito took out a knife and cut a chunk of carpet out. Lanyon couldn’t help but wince. Now the carpet was ruined even more. “It also has to do with physical transformation.”
“Jasper said eyebat fur was used for mental modification.”
“Well, it can be,” Ito admitted, “but it might have been a dampening agent in this case.”
“But if it wasn’t?”
She blinked. “Probably a physical transformation based on a mental need, then. Though I’m not sure what.”
“Hm.” Lanyon felt dread expand in his stomach. This entire thing was becoming more and more complicated. “Would you be able to figure out how this works?”
“From this carpet sample? Probably not fully. I’d need to work with Frankenstein.”
Oh, lord. “Are you… absolutely sure of that?”
Ito raised an eyebrow. “She’s the best of the best. If you want this to go as fast as possible, then-”
“Fine,” Lanyon ground out. God, he did not like this. Frankenstein ticked him off in so many ways. All of Jekyll’s scientific obsession- the obsession that was more like fanaticism, like martyrdom, was what Frankenstein endorsed wholeheartedly. Lanyon did not.
“Alright. Anything else?”
“Take one of the extra red bottles,” Lanyon said after a moment. He’d never realized how many of them Jekyll had scattered around the room, and a couple hadn’t broken. “Compare it with the carpet spill, and if they’re similar, we may have more to work with.”
Ito nodded, grabbing a flask. She headed off.
Lanyon resisted the urge to let his head fall in his hands. He couldn’t do that now. He had work to do.
He decided to start with the desk. That was practically where Henry lived, after all. It was covered in a mountain of paperwork, all with red stamps and threatening notes of bankruptcy.
Lanyon winced. The exhibition had to work. It had to.
He pushed the papers off into one pile, looking further down. Henry’s wouldn’t have been financially related, in all likeliness- the society wasn’t known for its riches. The finance records probably wouldn’t help.
Unless…
Lanyon pulled out one about the society’s ingredient purchases from last month. All ingredients and their cost were supposed to be recorded in hopes of keeping stock and not losing any of the precious items.
Both Ito and Jasper had said eyebat fur and fire-phoenix ashes were certain ingredients, so if this was simply something Jekyll was making for the society, records of that would be on the list.
If they weren’t, that meant this was far, far more important than Lanyon ever would’ve guessed. Jekyll wouldn’t have made such a large stock of this potion- assuming the red ones were the spilled brew- unless he needed it. If he needed it badly enough for personal use, that meant there was something medical going on right under Lanyon’s nose. It meant that Jekyll hadn’t told him.
There was some fire-phoenix ash on the records, but no eyebat fur.
Lanyon opened the top left drawer.
In college, Jekyll had kept one singular notebook to write down all his experiment results. He’d been able to do this because there hadn’t been enough time for proper study outside of class, meaning all the work would fit in the one notebook. He’d always kept this notebook in his top left drawer for easy access.
There was a notebook in the drawer that opened. It was a relatively small one, brown and tattered. Definitely not the one from college.
Lanyon opened it and flipped through the pages.
The inside was… odd. It wasn’t the painstakingly organized research from Jekyll’s college. It was a mess of jumbled notes, some in the margins, some scrawled sideways, all from different things.
It seemed to get better the further along it got. Jekyll started dating the pages around May of 1880, thankfully. It still made no sense, though- at least, not until Lanyon got more context. The pages were still scattered with random phrases like “alchemy of soul- division of morals vs division of priorities?” or some other nonsense he couldn’t parse out.
Lanyon flipped to the end, sighing a breath of relief when he saw arithmetic on a page dated about a month ago. According to the quick math Jekyll had done, he’d had spent over 70 pence on ingredients for just 2 months, and there were records of eyebat fur and fire-phoenix ash.
Lanyon stood up, book in hand. This had to help Ito.
“Miss Ito?” he shouted out as he left Jekyll’s office. He made sure to lock it on the way out- no way in hell was there going to be another break-in. If what had happened was a break-in, of course.
“I saw her heading to Frankenstein’s room,” a random lodger responded.
Damn. Lanyon grit his teeth and headed the way- it was ingrained in his mind after the despair he’d always felt when Henry headed to her. He’d always been miserable after visiting, so convinced he was subpar. It was idiotic to think he was a worse scientist because he wasn’t willing to sacrifice everything he held dear.
He knocked on Frankenstein’s door. “Ito? I have more information that might help.”
The door swung open. Ito’s face looked slightly ashen and panicked. Lanyon felt that dreaded stone form in his stomach again.
“Is…” he swallowed past the fear. “Is everything alright?”
Ito glanced out into the hallway, desperately checking for- for something. She then grabbed Lanyon by the lapels and dragged him in.
“I- what the hell is going on here?” Lanyon sputtered. He didn’t know the lodgers well, of course, but from what Henry had said, Ito was a rather smart and capable individual. She wasn’t some madman almost throwing men off balance because of panic.
Ito took a deep breath, pinching her nose. “Lanyon, do you know what other ingredients Jekyll might’ve used?”
“I think I do.” he showed her the notebook page.
Her eyes further widened in fear. That was… not good.
“Oh lord,” she whispered. Her hands went up to her mouth as if to cover her expression. It wasn’t working.
“Ito,” Lanyon said as calmly as possible (which wasn’t very calm at all), “I need an explanation.”
“Your friend Jekyll was messing with forces he didn’t understand,” a voice chimed in from the back of the room. Lanyon turned with barely repressed rage to see it was Frankenstein.
“Oh, i’m sorry, I thought that’s what you wanted scientists to do,” Lanyon couldn’t help but drawl. “Or do you just have a monopoly on it?”
“It is the job of capable scientists to do so.” Frankenstein glared. “Jekyll is not that.”
“Hm. Strong words from a woman who ate raw lizard.”
Her face contorted into fury. “I know these things. Do not busy yourself with things not of your business.”
“I’m afraid this is my business, Dr. Frankenstein.” Lanyon stalked over to her. “My friend, damn it, has disappeared into thin air, and this is our only actual lead! So I kindly ask you to put your high-headedness away and understand that without Henry, you’d be dead, covered in bloody vomit.”
Frankenstein was silent, but she somehow got angrier.
“You know not what you speak of,” she hissed.
Lanyon raised an eyebrow. Lord, he disliked this woman.
“Ahem.”
Lanyon stepped back from Frankenstein.
“Mr. Lanyon, if you could stop insulting our one way of finding Henry, that would be a smart move,” she said, face stony. “She is still one of the most respected alchemists of our time, and is a good enough scientist to remove her… dislike of Jekyll from the situation.”
“I really doubt that,” Lanyon muttered. Ito’s glare silenced him.
“Either way,” she said after a moment, “we should be able to understand the exact function of this potion in the next few hours with this list.”
Lanyon couldn’t help but sag in relief. One thing had gone right, then. “Good.”
“Besides, Frankenstein already has an idea.”
Lanyon froze. “What?”
“Your friend came to me to speak about his own alchemical adventures,” Frankenstein said with a half-smile. “He talked about splitting his soul.”
“He… what?” Jekyll had always been interested in the intersection of philosophy and alchemy, but the actual act of soul-splitting would be ludicrous. “Did he- did he succeed?”
“Not with splitting good and evil,” Frankenstein said smugly. “But I am beginning to wonder if something else was fractured.”
“And this potion caused that?”
“Indeed.”
“What would that mean, though?” If a soul had been split in half, had there been any physical consequences? Was that why Jekyll was removed all of sudden? Was there some creation- had someone sprung up in full form, as Henry's other half? Or was Jekyll now just half a man from some odd scientific want?
Lanyon was starting to feel dizzy with worry, and then Hyde’s remarks popped up in his mind.
“Maybe I was just one of your pretty playthings to have your way with,” Hyde drawled, all vicious poison and wrath. “At least until you got bored with them.”
Lanyon stumbled back in utter confusion and fear. He had to remember this man. He had to.
“You’ve never cared about anyone in your miserable life.” At that, Hyde’s lips curled into a vicious smile as if he’d just won some game.
Lanyon faltered. The image of Henry flashed through his mind, beautiful, intelligent Henry. “That’s… not true.”
Oh. oh, lord.
“Until we experiment more, we won’t know,” Ito said, somehow ignorant of Lanyon’s turmoil. “But it’s a good start.”
“Right.” if Lanyon had a lower constitution, he’d have already fainted. However, at this point he was just wobbly in the knees, the image of Hyde flashing in his mind over and over again. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Lanyon ran out the room, his heart pumping twice as fast. Hyde couldn’t be part of Henry. That made no sense- Henry had to know Lanyon cared for him! They’d been together for almost 7 months, for god’s sake. Lanyon hadn’t done that with anyone else. Hell, he’d been crying that night they’d broken up. Lanyon hated crying, and hadn’t done it for years before that moment.
But Henry hadn’t seen him crying, had he? He’d walked out, apparently unbothered by any of it. There was another thing- why would Henry blame him for being uncaring if he himself was the same way?
But no, Henry hadn’t been like him in romantic relationships. Before that day, Lanyon had been so sure he’d be utterly broken up as well. Henry had always cared, had always been so earnest. That had just made the split all the more confusing, in the end.
In the end, Lanyon knew Hyde’s eyes. He knew them. That expression Hyde had worn exactly mirrored how Henry had looked during his insane experiments- wide-eyed, full of vivacity and fascination.
It had been odd to be receiving a hostile version, and Lanyon’s stomach twisted up in knots just thinking about it.
If Hyde really was half of Henry- and god, Lanyon was truly considering it- did Henry secretly resent him? That made Lanyon freeze, hand still on the office key. No, he couldn’t bear to even think about it. Henry had been one of his first true friends, and truly was the only man who could claim to know Lanyon. If Jekyll secretly hated him for some reason, Lanyon didn’t know if he could function.
But it was useless to just theorize. What Lanyon needed was actual evidence, actual knowledge of Jekyll’s feelings and actions.
He unlocked the door to the office and started looking through the desk again. He had the notebook, but it still was too disjointed. He needed something else that could help.
The wood, he realized. Part of it was stained an odd color, and it dripped down the side of the drawers to the carpet.
The carpet there was singed.
Lanyon traced where the stain went to- the lowest right drawer. He pulled it open.
Inside were the cufflinks he’d gifted almost 15 years ago.
Lanyon slowly reached in to pick them up. They were in perfect condition- he only recognized them because of the time he’d spent acquiring them, and how it’d been his first venture in experimenting if Jekyll was attracted to him as well. Half the drawer was burnt, but the cufflinks seemed to have been cleaned from the liquid.
Henry wouldn’t preserve this if he hated Lanyon. He couldn’t have. That meant that there was some explanation besides Hyde simply speaking the truth about his resentment.
Lanyon almost collapsed into the chair with relief. Lord, he was really gone, wasn’t he? College freshman Lanyon would almost certainly turn his nose up at him being undone by one person disliking him.
Well, that Lanyon had toyed with people’s emotions and broken countless hearts, so perhaps it was good there’d been some change since then.
Lanyon pulled out the notebook again, and combed through the pages, and his eyes widened as he caught the next true clue. The dates were off in part of it. There was a whole 6 month gap missing.
Lanyon looked at the writing, and found what he needed- “experiment needs its own paper- far more complicated than I presumed. Check out #3 book if cross-reference needs.”
Lanyon shot up and looked at Jekyll’s library, but none of the books stuck out.
Number 3. Well, the Dewey Decimal System didn’t fit for that number, so it had to refer to a different form of sorting.
It had to do with alchemy. Lanyon knew that, so it had to be on the alchemy shelf.
Lanyon walked over to the other section- thank god he’d listened to Henry when he’d talked about his shelving system. It had been boring, admittedly, but he’d looked too happy talking about it for Lanyon to resist asking more.
He was whipped, wasn’t he?
Unsurprisingly, the amount of alchemy books was mind-boggling, considering how small the library was. But, somehow, Jekyll had managed to cram as many books as possible in that small area.
Lanyon started looking at the book’s spine. No special labels there. Maybe it was inside?
He flipped it open. On the first page, he found a handwritten note.
“#7- too far along in specificity of ingredient differences to be earlier.”
With those words, Lanyon remembered a conversation from years ago. Jekyll had once wanted to sort his books by how a beginner should read them- in order of best to begin with to most complex.
Lanyon picked up each book, flipping to the front page. The numbers went all the way to 28- lord. He’d forgotten how much Jekyll had loved alchemy with how much both of them had been working on just keeping the society afloat.
Although, he’d started losing passion for that earlier, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. He distinctly remembered asking why Jekyll’s vials were dusted over, and Jekyll had blinked, shrugged, and said, “oh. Well, I guess I just haven’t wanted to do as much alchemy recently.”
Hm.
Finally, Lanyon took a book off the shelf, and something slipped out as he opened it. There was a tiny #3 in the book’s corner.
Lanyon picked up the thing that had dropped. It was a far tinier notebook, a pocket-sized one.
Lanyon felt his heart hammer against his ribs as he opened to the first page.
“Splitting the soul; a study.”
The notebook dropped to the ground.
Lanyon stood still for a moment. If he continued reading, he’d probably know everything that Henry had tried to keep secret. He felt betrayed by Henry’s secret-keeping, but more importantly, Henry wasn’t the type to do that. Anything he’d hidden would’ve been out of perceived necessity, nothing less. Jekyll certainly would be pissed if he learned Lanyon had read through it.
But Henry was missing, it was somehow related to Hyde, and this was the only lead he could follow. If he understood who Hyde was, why the hell he existed, it could make it easier to find Henry. He had to at least try.
Lanyon slowly, carefully, picked up the notebook. He turned the page, and he began to read.