By now Hyde had his own rooms in Jekyll's house (even though he rarely used them).
Tonight however, Jekyll took him along to his bedroom without so much as a word. Only to catch him by surprise, when he pinned him against the door.
"Edward, what's the matter? You've been so quiet and crestfallen since we left."
Hyde raised an eyebrow. "And that bothers you? How many times a day do you tell me to shut up?"
But the Doctor shook his head. "You're only this quiet and clingy with me, when you're extremely distraught and seek my comfort. Please tell me what distresses you. I can't look into your head anymore."
Instead of talking, the smaller man grabbed the larger and kissed him.
He didn't even wait for Jekyll to reciprocate, before he pulled back.
"Edward …?"
"No more word, Jekyll!", Hyde growled.
The blond frowned, but sighed and didn't pry further.
Those three words had been the broad hint ever since he had been split off. They told the other not to ask any more questions, make no comments or remarks.
They told each other to shut up all the time, but those three words meant that it was serious.
Hyde didn't want to talk.
He wanted to forget.
So he kissed the older man again.
This time he received a kiss in return.
And with them being who they were, it didn't stay at that.
...
Hours later, the small brunette was lying beside his Doctor, breathing heavily and in the other's arms.
He was wide awake.
Not so Jekyll.
The blond was sleeping the sleep of the righteous, or so it seemed.
The self-righteous, Hyde deadpanned in his mind and almost laughed out loud.
The old man seemed to not be having nightmares.
Good.
At least one of them would get a good night's sleep.
Hyde felt like he was being consumed by flames. He was burning up. And why were Jekyll's arms suddenly so cold and heavy? Why did it feel like he couldn't breathe?
Then he remembered …
All the things he had heard today.
That one man, who was just like him.
What he had told him about himself and about how his creator treated him – how a deranged, gruff alchemist was kinder to him than the man who had made him.
His own relationship with Jekyll and how it had developed over the last year.
Edward Hyde had always known that his relationship to his other half was dysfunctional.
Jekyll was a hypocritical, lying, unstable and obsessive old bastard, while he himself was ruthless, wrathful and repulsed by the very concept of emotional attachment. As for the things he had in common with Jekyll … of course he did. He was a manifestation of all the Doctor's vices and desires. He was the way he was, because that was how Jekyll truly was. He just couldn't help it.
However … Jekyll wasn't superficial, at least not much. Even though he was an incredibly handsome man.
Sure, he loved beautiful things and people (who didn't?), but seeing ugly ones didn't make him run away screaming. No, he had the ability of seeing beauty in ugliness and that was one of his genuinely good qualities.
"It worked! I did it! Welcome to the world, Edward Hyde!"
Welcome to the world.
Welcome.
Welcome …
He bit his lip and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew, no matter how silently he cried, Jekyll would sense it and wake up. Fifteen years with Lanyon (who had cried every time after they had done it) had kind of sensitised him to this. It was the weirdest kind of sixth sense to have.
Unfortunately, Hyde's plan of not crying was foiled, when he thought of all the things his creator had given him; he had a name, a nicely-furnished flat, clothes, a bank account, money for his nightly activities …
Now those things could be used to indulge Jekyll's pleasures, but he also owned a lot of things that had nothing to do with this.
Things that Jekyll hadn't bought him for his own benefit.
He had bought them, just for the sake of spoiling him once in a while, like a father spoiled his child or a loving husband his wife. Because he loved seeing him happy because of something simple and innocent, because …
Hyde bit his lip harder, but the only thing it lead to was blood running down his chin.
Jekyll, you fool! You hopelessly romantic, sentimental, old fool!
Predictably enough, the crying – even though it was silent – woke the blond Doctor up.
In the darkness, the brunette could see his chocolate brown eyes widen in shock.
"Edward! Why are you cry-?"
"I'm not crying, you're crying!", Hyde snapped angrily and vehemently rubbed his eyes.
Jekyll just shook his head and wiped away the blood and tears.
...
Later, when the blond finally was sleeping for real, Hyde was contemplating what would happen now.
Meeting Adam had made him question a lot of things.
Until almost a month ago, Jekyll had kept Hyde around, because there was no other way. They had been one and the same man.
But now Edward Hyde was completely separated. He was his own entity now – right? Was he really a human being of his own now or would he never be more than the alter ego of Henry Jekyll? Would he ever be his own master? And most importantly – did he want to?
Until their complete separation, he had been the outlet for his creator's desires, a tool for tension relief and a way to freedom … that was all he had been, really. Even though Jekyll and the others said otherwise. It had been simple; he was Edward Hyde, the darker half and alter ego of the "respectable" Dr. Henry Jekyll, the wicked side, the mask and disguise that was more real than the man himself.
But what was he now? Who was he now?
Who was he, if not the darker alter ego of Henry Jekyll?
And why was Jekyll still keeping him around?
They were no longer in the same body. Jekyll couldn't live out his wishes and desires through him and he couldn't hide (heh!) behind him.
He had nothing to offer. Everything that was his ultimately belonged to the Doctor, even the money on his bank account and the clothes he owned.
No wonder Utterson thought that I'm just a gigolo, before he knew the truth.
He owed Jekyll everything, even his naked existence.
The blond had never tired to remind him of it.
What more could he possibly want from him?
His body, probably. Likely.
Hyde knew that Jekyll loved him, wanted him in every possible way. Hell, he was lying naked next to him right now, had been for almost every night in the last weeks!
He hadn't minded – he liked the fuck way too much and the old man was fantastic for his age.
But was that all he was good for?
Did Jekyll only want him for his body?
It had to be so.
What else could he want from him?
He had nothing else.
The brunette heaved a sigh and made up his mind.
Forgive me, Jekyll.
He bent down and planted a gentle kiss onto the sleeping man's eyelids.
Perhaps it would be the last.