Disclaimer-type thing: I don't own Jekyll and Hyde, neither the musical nor the book. Pffft.

At the Funeral

"Sir Danvers! What a pleasure to see you, though not under these…rather unfortunate…circumstances. I offer you my deepest regrets; Emma must be devastated."

"Yes, Simon, this has just torn Emma apart." His eyebrows knitted together in an old man's despair. "She and Henry could have been so happy together…"

"What's done is done, father," Emma made herself heard, and the two men were surprised to see her although she had been there all along. "And anyway, I don't seem to recall you being overjoyed at our engagement." She glanced between her overbearing father and her clearly uncomfortable suitor. "Either of you."

The three mourners--or rather, the two mourners and one arrogant git--formed a dam in the stream of people who were leaving after paying their respects to Henry Jekyll's cold body. "Er, whatever do you mean, Emma? You know that I thought the world of Henry--" Simon attempted, but it was of no use. Emma was a strong woman, a wise woman who--to put it crudely--didn't take crap from anyone. Everyone, except perhaps poor Sir Danvers, knew that all Simon had ever wanted was to get Henry out of the way so he could properly seduce Emma. He had thought she was making the wrong choice; they all thought she was making the wrong choice…and now, when the work her fiancé had chosen killed him, they expected her to admit that they were right. But the poor girl knew better.

"All right, I cannot take this any longer. You suppose that now I am going to fall at your ankles, weeping, because he left me for his work? Well, I'm sorry to inform you that I will never do such a thing. From the moment Henry and I were engaged, I knew I was signing myself up for a lifetime of this. The science came first, and I respected that. All I asked of Henry is that he would give me the same respect and passion he gave his work, and he did. He was the gentlest, most charming man I ever met, and so full of life!" Emma's eyes glistened, though not because she was about to cry--in all her years, she had never once lost her composure--but with love and the memories of Henry. "While others were dull and tiresome, he was always searching, always thinking. He lived his years to their fullest, and for that reason Death had to come and take him early. But I do not regret it. Henry died working for the good of mankind, and while I'd much prefer he was still here, I simply wouldn't have loved him as I did--as I do--if he was one who could just sit there, happy with the way things were! I am not sorry that he died of passion rather than giving up when things got hard." The speech she had been longing to make for days finally burst out of her mouth. Having said what she needed to say, her lips set themselves into a firm line as her clearly ruffled audience tried to think of something to say.

"Er, Emma, we all know how dedicated Henry was to his work. But if things like this were going on, this Edward Hyde business, he should have told us about it. We could have helped him!"

"No, father, you don't understand! You couldn't've, you wouldn't have, and you know it." The girl's voice almost broke, but she took a moment to reel herself back in. "You wouldn't have believed him, and you wouldn't have helped him! My god, everyone would've thought he DESERVED what was happening to him! You would have laughed: Henry Jekyll, the fool! The madman you always knew him to be! Don't you see? He knew he could tell no one. His work, his life, was in jeopardy before he even started because he had no one on his side. Nobody but me, and I was related to you--if he told any of us, he would be thrown in jail, or a mental institution FOR THE MADNESS HE WAS TRYING TO CURE!" She could've laughed. Emma had never raised her voice before--the two flustered men shared a glance, wondering how to calm her down. "You, you all--the St. Jude's board of governors, everyone who ever laughed at Henry--you forced him to take his father's sanity into his own hands. You drove him to do this. You--" Emma stared at the ground for a moment, before looking into her father's eyes. "You killed him."

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A/N: Should I add a chapter, or leave this as a one-shot? This is my first fanfic, and the writing style is kind of different from what I'm used to, but it's how they talked back then. Advice? Anything? Hell, I'd be glad for flames. I need something to light my incense…

I'm not used to taking other people's characters and toying with them, so this is weird. Yeah. Please, give advice! I've never done this before! I'm a fanfic virgin!