Insoluable
Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, I know, I know, long wait. I'm gonna try and pick up the pace here. I'm so glad that people are enjoying it.
And to the next point, the next chapter will be rated a BIG FAT R! Ra-hated a-haR.
…
"Damn it, Tom, if you're gonna act like an idiot, people are gonna think you're one!"
"Do something useful! Don't just sit there like a frog on a rock!"
"Sometimes I wonder if that kid's got any common sense at all."
"Eyes open, boy." …Tom reflected anxiously as he rubbed his temples with his thumbs, trying to shake his mind out of the obnoxious turn table of regrets and memories. His head was a mess and he couldn't clear it. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, but he had never been a heavy drinker, doubtful that it would have calmed his nerves down anyway. Nothing would calm his nerves, he was cracking and he knew it. His problems were big this time. Bigger than being a kid in a semi-broken home with no parents and a town that thought he was no good. Bigger than those stupid little 'adventures' he'd once shared with his long time friend Huck. He wasn't that little sandy-haired kid with a wide, innocent smile anymore, and he wasn't so sure he could escape with his skin like before. His experiences with the league had shown him that…
He had always assumed that he could take care of himself better than anyone. He had gotten himself into and right back out of more scraps than he cared to remember in his adolescent days. But now he was a man, as far as he knew. He would always have these damn boyish features and the blond hair that was worthy of a lovely lady, but in his heart and in his body, he knew he was a man… Yes, a man indeed. Now suddenly rendered fragile and vulnerable. While his stature grew, his abilities failed him. What happened to the days where he was once invincible? Where he could do anything? When did he lose that marvelous gift? Fifteen? Eighteen? Whenever the time had been, it was most certainly gone, and as were the pride and confidence that once accompanied it.
In those days, he hadn't a moment to worry. He was always caught up in every second and never turning his head to see the darker side when the light was warmer anyway. Optimistic and hopeful, like a child should be…And as it stood, he was no longer a child. Did that mean for him to relinquish his optimism and give up that hope?
Love. He had thought over it many times. Some had dubbed him a hopeless romantic, and he wasn't sure they were so wrong. He still felt like that headstrong, love-starved kid from an unheard of and forgotten god-forsaken back country of the young U.S. He would flash a little smile to the pretty girls as he walked by, laughing inwardly as they giggled and swooned over the rugged and painfully unattainable Tom Sawyer. Not anymore. He had no one fussing over him, no one looking up to him. He was on his own, and it made him realize that he hadn't made much of or for himself. Not enough, anyway.
How is it that he could have come half way around the world as a hero and ended up a down-trodden nothing? Perhaps he was a hero only in his own mind. That childish arrogance that had followed him for so long, that smug attitude and flared ego. None of that was him anymore. So who was he? He knew Tom Sawyer the boy, everyone knew him. But who was Tom Sawyer the man? What did he have now but audacious anecdotes and foolish tales? People had said scornfully that he would amount to nothing, and now it appeared they may have gotten their wish.
In his early days, he supposed, he had relied on people a little to help him out of a bad situation…Maybe that was his downfall. He could almost hear a mocking laughter behind his ear. He had become a useless nobody, he couldn't believe it, but it was true. Just what everyone had been telling him.
Look how pathetic you are. He said to himself as he folded his arms, leaning his head back and narrowly missing tipping his chair over. Held up cryin' in your room just like the kid you're tryin' t'tell yourself you're not.
He felt awful, all and around. He was frustrated in every sense. Emotionally from the whirl of battling anxieties in his head. Physically from not sleeping or eating; it was already almost morning again. And truth be told, sexually from the night before. There was still a sore stiffness inbetween his legs that had yet to be taken care of. He rubbed his forehead with a lazy hand and gave a breathy sigh. He hadn't exactly excused himself politely last night, and he could tell he had probably crawled over to Skinner's bad side on that one. But then again, he hadn't said anything about it. He hadn't stopped by this way to ask what was wrong, which he was secretly grateful for. Why should Skinner care anyway? It wasn't as though it was his business. Besides, he had to figure out these problems on his own.
A stupid kid. A damn stupid kid. Wasn't Skinner just telling you last night that he did care? He reminded himself. People say all kinds of things when they're horny…The more bitter half of him reasoned. After all, when had they actually engaged in conversation that wasn't aimed at the end result of sex? Skinner was probably angry with him now.
Or he could be worried. Giving him his space.
Not likely. He was probably out hitting on Mina by now, bored with the going-ons of a disturbed young boy who couldn't seem to get his head on straight.
He felt like a fool. He was a fool. He was so confused…And for the first time since he was five years old, he didn't try to fight the tears filling in his eyes.
…
"You don't understand…" Jekyll explained, leaning his head against the frame of the window pane. "It's not that he takes over my personality, it's that…well it's more like little parts of him are leaking into me."
Captain Nemo nodded as he poured himself a small cup of hot water, thinking for a while before taking it to his lips.
"My anger, for instance." Jeykll turned around and held out his hands in exasperation. "I never used to get angry like this before. Perhaps I could feel Hyde's anger, and perhaps I could even be tempted to act on it. But…but this anger is my own. When I was talking with Mr. Sawyer, it was me he was insulting…and I was angry. Not Hyde." He swallowed the great lump in his throat and sighed.
"Don't you think that it could be a sign of regression?" Nemo suggested, setting his cup down. "Perhaps the effects of your syrum are wearing down. Maybe Hyde is assimilating back into you. That you're becoming one again?"
"A brilliant deduction. However I find that highly unlikely." He said with a hollow chortle. "When I created that syrum…when I created Hyde, I didn't create and addition to myself, Captain. I created a new life. Something—someone entirely different from that which was myself."
"I don't think I quite see how that can be." Nemo said as he straightened out the cuffs of his sleeves and placed his hands behind his back.
"When I make the transformation, I leave Hyde in complete control. He makes decisions that I have nothing to do with. He thinks for himself, he has opinions and thoughts and completely separate ideals. I may have created him, but he is not a part of me. He's a…a joint owner of my existence, you could say." Jekyll rubbed the side of his face tiredly.
"Then how is it he can be influencing you in this way?"
"I don't know, I don't know." He dropped down into a wooden chair, leaning his head against his hand, which rested upon the armrest. "I just have to find a way to stop it. I was going to hurt Tom Sawyer today, how could I live with myself if I did something like that? How could anyone else live with me?"
Nemo walked to the window, which gave him a very uninteresting view of the dark ocean. "I will say this, my friend," He began. "A man who is clever enough to conjure an entire other being out of nothing surely is clever enough that he can find a solution to it. Knowing naught of the circumstances under which you made your discoveries, I cannot help you further. This concept you present me with is new."
"Yes, it is." He responded bitterly. "Mr. Skinner was correct in that this is my responsibility alone. Only I can save myself…but how?"
"Do you really think that you will do something you will regret so much?" the captain turned his head.
"Of course I do." He threw up one hand and let it land in his lap. "Nemo, I should tell you something else…"
"Yes?"
"I…I think I may be in love with her." He lowered his head in what almost looked like shame.
It took Nemo only a moment to comprehend the situation, even with a subject as vague as 'her'. "There should be no uncertainty in these matters." He offered, stepping forward and reaching out to place a hand on Jekyll's shoulder. "Do you love the woman?"
"I would not have even suggested the notion if I didn't." he said, deafeated. "That is the predicament, however. I am in love with her. Hyde is not." He rubbed his temples irritably. "I know that I can never act upon my feelings for her. I couldn't put her in that kind of danger. I don't trust Hyde. I could do something positively mad. This morning was only confirmation."
"Then it appears your mind is made up." Nemo pointed out gravely.
"Perhaps, but…" he looked up at the wise Indian captain, begging for answers. "What do you think I should do?"
"You know what is right." He said promptly. "You cannot ask her to love you when you are not yourself. You must first mend your troubles before looking for new ones."
"But what if I can't do it…?" he closed his eyes and put his head down.
"I'm afriad you know the answer to that as well. And that is why you must." Captain Nemo patted him gruffly once more on the shoulder before turning to walk out the door. "You'll excuse me, Mr. Jekyll, but I have affairs I must attend to."
With a polite nod, Jeykll watched the man walk out the large double doors and turn swiftly down the corridor. "As have I…" he sighed, pushing the chair back and standing. With one glance and sneer to the reflection in the window, he walked slowly out the door and back to his room.