Jackson unlocked the door to his house and listened. His mom's car was gone. There was no noise in the house. The A/C was turned off, but that was als a habit leftover from when Dad had still been around.
He closed the door, not minding the stuffiness. He grew up with fire elementals and spent years half hoping he was just a late blooming one, so a warm house really didn't bother him. Especially not since he preferred being a little on the warm side. Long mustard colored sleeves and sweater vest to show for it.
Making some dinner for himself, since he didn't' know when his mom would be home, he cautiously pulled out his experiment, waiting for the water to boil.
Tilting it around, it appeared still mixed, slightly separating in gross clumps a yellowed off white milky substance that looked like it'd been mixed with an oily water. Drumming his hands on the table a bit he took out his diary and started writing about it. Making sure he had the exact formula down and ingredients incase he died and someone tried to replicate it, or doctors needed to figure out exactly why he was sent to the hospital.
He briefly wondered which hospital he'd be sent to if ever the need. Deciding his mom would definitely chosen him to be in the care of monsters. At least they could deal with the unpredictableness of his nature.. Beside that, despite what the kids at school called him. He was a monster after all…
Normies didn't turn into blue party DJs.
He looked briefly at his caucasian skin tone for a moment, glancing up at the microwave in the kitchen to spot his reflection on it's glassy surface. Black hair, no bright colors to naturally streak it save for his bangs. But that was unnatural.
No markings, no pointed ears, no fangs. Holt had a marking.
Whatever that thing on his face was.
It wasn't a tattoo. He learned tattoos were a shared burden. The hard way.
Jackson chewed his cheek thoughtfully thinking about that again, still unsure if he liked their non-consensual addition to their body.
Waking up with an aching back was one thing but, Holt DID seem to have decent taste in tattoos. He choose a yinyang symbol after all, something they both enjoyed dorkily. He could have chosen a trebel clef, Holt had reminded him. He was that close to getting a trebel clef, the DJ had explained via apology video. Or something to spice up his face mark, that wouldn't have complimented Jackson's lack of birthmark so nicely. But no, he'd been "nice" and chosen one of the few things they could agree on.
Jackson recalled that argument on their bodily integrity. How he could have asked to get a tattoo to begin with. Holt hadn't had a good argument about that one. Or maybe he did but he acted all grumpy when he brought that up so Jackson dropped it.
It took too much energy to argue with him anyway. Getting Holt too angry meant waking up to headaches, sore stress filled shoulders and eyes puffy on the verge of tears from the emotion of his other half.
Then there was the fact that like everything Holt did to make them look more alternative had been met with praise. The tattoo did wonders for his rep in the locker room after all. Everyone thought he was pretty badass, as it did look like a shared exploit, and no one was the wiser. A yinyang tattoo sounded like something they agreed on, versus if it HAD been a treble clef. Then everyone would have known who really got their back inked.
And he wouldn't have gotten any credit for being cool. He scratched his other alternative addition. Only Holt would think to get an eyebrow piercing of all things. Their ears weren't even pierced like some of the other boys. Though it had shown up before Jackson knew he was a monster. It had only made his blackouts more disturbing. Grim implications that he didn't have comtrol over his body, or was getting pranked hardcore. He had gone to the more sleepwalking route of things in terms of explanation as it had always mysteriously reappeared no matter how many times he took it out.
Or threw it out the window.
Only to be replaced by a different eyebrow piercing.
At least the bangs were his. Either yellow and bleach didn't transfer over to fiery red hair, or it looked natural enough on Holt's "fire" that he hadn't noticed. Jackson had done that before Holt knew about him after all. And though he never questioned Holt if he had had his own theories about the dye(if he even noticed. Or if hair dye transferred like tattoos did), Jackson assumed Holt had probably just thought it was natural or something, like how brown Jackson's hair got in the summer.
Speaking of yellow. His macaroni was done boiling as Jackson fixed his own after school snack dinner. Mixing that up his brain was still on yinyang symbols. Like his bag. Holt had to have noticed his bag choice.
So he briefly wondered how one sided the tattoo was. Maybe Holt got into that argument because it was meant to be a surprise present.
A really crappy surprise present.
Regardless it was still their symbol. Something they could sort of own like how everyone in their school themed their lives around what made them special.
Jackson didn't have much to make him special. Unthemed like other normies he had to claim something. Even if he couldn't make as many puns as the others did in their constant word play. He always wanted something to join in with. Besides subtle times he mentioned he needed to "Hyde" from Manny, while he always thought it was clever, either no one caught it, or it wasn't even his pun. His last name was Jekyll after all. And there wasn't much you could work with there.
At least having a full stomach now he took the jar of gross up to his room, it looking more unappetizing after so much cheese. Setting it on his nightstand he went to rush through homework having lost a lot of time to after school activities.
It was nearly time for bed and Jackson's mom to come home by the time he was done. Almost 11 or so. Jackson looked at his clock, trying to read the time, it taking slightly extra thought with his analog clock. He recalled wanting digital. But Holt had kept booby trapping it to extra loud radio alarms.
Closing his books satisfied with his work he closed out all his academic tabs on his computer. Opening up FrightTunes and a word document. After all. If he was going to experiment on himself he wanted to run it through the other guy first.
As much as Jackson resented Holt, he didn't want to be a hypocrite. If he was going to yell at Holt for getting a tattoo without asking, he had to be the better guy and ask Holt if he could drink a potentially life ending formula.
Ok, not to be too grim he was just being realistic. There wasn't anything in this to suggest it could kill them but Jackson didn't know for sure. He didn't run it by a teacher or anything, he didn't ask a doctor, he wasn't even sure if it'd do anything but maybe give them a stomach ache or a case of monster butt.
Trying not to think of bad consequences he started typing to the other side of his brain.
Hey. So. I'm thinking about. Trying it. But if you think we should maybe just wait and make sure it's safer. I'm ok with that.
Jackson paused thinking. Then got up and put the jar clearly visible on their desk.
But if you're on board… do what you want to before we possibly poison ourselves ok?
Jackson pressed play on one of Holt's playlists. They were all his cept for the study music and calmer classical that were Jackson tested.
Catching a glance of his hands catching on fire, the only pyronic ability between the two of them.
-
Gasping. Jackson, woke up again. Their chair had been adjusted to a slightly different height, his legs were up on their desk, his body in a leaned back position, glancing at the computer clock only half an hour had passed or so. Disoriented but not too badly he put his legs down and scooted in the chair, adjusting the height again to his personal comfort as he read Holt's reply.
yooo, i'm not afraid of nothing!
just drink that nasty
just dont make me
it looks like you were sick in it
just sayin
Jackson noticed a couple other tabs were open, Holt checking his own news interests, Critter, their phone still open to some texts. Those he had saved especially for Holt, info on potential gigs and other social things he was into.
He finished reading Holt's message left on the word pad in different font to differentiate from Jackson's original message.
if i die you can have my headphones and full custody over crossfade
:P
i don't think he's doing so well
who knows the effects a domestic partnership has over a young chameleons psychology
Jackson was scoffing at Holt not taking this seriously before… Holt got serious.
hey though i know how this goes
i swear if your tricking me into letting you get rid of me for good
instead of helping me find my own place
there will be consequences.
dont think i'm accusing you bro
even if you think i'm not into your nerd books i know our story
grandaddy tried to get rid of Mr. Hyde
your supposed to be the good guy so i'm trusting you to be that
see? i can trust you
now let's see if we can starfish this train wreck
Jackson blinked a headache forming as he was tempted to transform just so he could correct all of Holt's grammar errors in bold red, but he couldn't believe Holt was accusing him of getting rid of him.
He had to think about the starfish thing until he recalled Holt sending him a link to starfish's ability to form into two separate starfish if cut correctly. And Holt getting excited.
"If nature let's an animal make two of itself, do you think we could?"
He had asked apprehensively. Nervously, smiling in that video Jackson recalled. Looking scared but hopeful.
Jackson had considered it in the past, but it was only after Holt suggested it that he did more research into any Mad Science information on it. He didn't have to kill his other half, nothing that dramatic, but if the original Jekyll could separate two parts of himself, why couldn't Jackson go beyond that, and physically separate the two of them?
He didn't know how it would turn out. Actually he was like 90% sure it wouldn't work. But he didnt' have any mice with alter egos to test it out on. Jackson honestly doubted the crap would do anything to anyone who wasn't struggling with a halved mind that had shapeshifting tendencies.
This had to be the first thing they had worked together on. Beside Frankie, but they got greedy and jealous on that one and ended up ruining it for both of them.
This would be different. Holt had convinced InvisiBilly to let them in the Mad Science Lab after school. Jackson had been working on this in pure theory for weeks. Asking irrelevant questions in class, and sneaking forbidden books from teachers and the library.
Just this would be the first… trial.
Taking the jar to his lavender bathroom he brought his diary along, making a note of the time and date, setting up his iCoffin for record, closing the bathroom door and… not locking it. Just in case he needed to be escorted out by paranormalmedic.
Taking an extra minute to shoot InvisiBilly a text about if they didn't respond by midnight to call his mom leaving a number.
He took off his sweater vest and unbuttoned his shirt a little, his bow tie abandoned in his room during a bout of trying to get comfortable mid homework. Filling up a glass of water for the after taste.
Looking at his reflection for a good while the second time this day. Scratching his eyebrow piercing. Again.
Holt suspected he was trying to get rid of him but gave him the go ahead for the experiment anyway… He must really want this to work. If successful they could have their own lives finally. Jackson could worry about going to college without a frat boy getting them disciplinary action and destroying career goals. He could… get his own room. Something the only child turned "twin" often fantasized about. Especially after he woke up to a paint fumey blood read room decorated by skulls to match a certain DJ's signature headphones.
Jackson set his iCoffin to record.
"Uhhm" he stood back opening the jar, a pungent smell coming out of it. Ugh. "Trial.. 1. Attempting to.. enhance me and dual personality Holt Hyde's.. transformation by possible separation." he swallowed.
"If… successful, I may be able to create a second body for my… other half." he meant that literally, not in a figurative sense that he needed Holt just. They were two parts of a whole. Trying to become their own wholes.
"May be left weak.." he swallowed. "May be left poisoned. Or simply unsuccessful."
Please let it work. Or be harmless. He silently prayed.
"Bottoms up…" he mumbled sickened holding his nose and gulping as much of the potion as he could. Immediately gagging, and spitting half of it, out, but trying to force some more before he initially dropped the glass, shattering it.
He was up against the wall before there was a ringing in his ears and everything started going fuzzy and white. The bathroom becoming incredibly white as he was met with intense vertigo.
He choked something of a swear before grabbing the water to try and wash it down with. But the water burned his mouth. And his throat.
Everything was burning. He was burning. No literally. His hands were on fire. His reflection! He was on fire. He could tell, not just looking at himself but everything. It was on his face blinding him, like a transformation. Only incredibly slower and not blacking out.
He fell on the rug no where near glass shards and curled up stomach cramping. Seizing. He grabbed onto the rug for it to crinkle and turn black in his hand. Flakes of clothing falling off as he somehow burned it. Always figuring his clothes were fire proof or his transformation magic was somehow safer than normal fire.
Then he blacked out.
For real.
Not blacking out and someone else waking up, but falling unconscious in his bathroom.
-
"Jackson!"
Ringing. In his ears.
"Jackson!"
Muffled. Mom.
Downstairs.
"I brought back donuts come pick out your favorite!"
A pause. While she waited.
His stomach still hurt.
"... Holt? Come pick out your donut before Jackson gets first pick!"
Footsteps.
"I swear if you have your headphones on in the house. I told you to use the stereo so you could hear me."
His door was opened. Jackson's heart picked up waking up suddenly. Hearing his mom inspect his room. Quickly remembering he had locked his laptop. So she couldn't see the text document. Thankfully.
"Jackson are you in the bathroom?"
She must have noticed the light.
Reflexively he stumbled to the door and locked it
"Yeah…?!" he croaked out, his throat sore. Coughing.
There was a pause. Jackson's vision still messed up something was. What?
"Are you ok in there?"
"I'm fine."
"Come pick out…" Jackson could tell she wasn't sure who she was talking to.
"Your donut I brought some home."
As she walked away Jackson sighed resting against the door. Something felt wrong though, his skin was tingly. The bathroom felt incredibly cold.
Things coming into focus after he blindly grappled for the doorknob he looked at his hands.
Blueberry.
Blue. Light blue. What.
Hands.
He had blue hands. He stood up quickly cutting his food on glass and cursing causing him to look down at the rest of his body. Also blue.
Reflection. Blue.
Naked blue.
He was staring at Holt's naked body. In the mirror. Not an illusion.
He was Holt. Or… had his body.
Mouth agape, his heart almost shot out of his chest.
"This. Isn't. Happening."