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(A/N: Fair warning. Shades of disturbing subject matter on the level of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, though I've left it ambiguous what actually happened. You've entered the Gothic Horror section of this story now, so buckle in. It only gets darker from here.)
Institutionalized
"You-you want me to what?" Utterson asked in utter disbelief, staring at Jekyll in shock. His eyes were wide as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard.
"I do not want you to. I need you to," Jekyll said calmly.
"An insane asylum?! Henry, are you nuts?" Utterson demanded.
"Yes. Hence the reason I must be sent to an asylum," Jekyll bluntly replied.
"I walked right into that one," Utterson said, facepalming with both hands.
"John, please. You know that this must happen. Trust me when I tell you it is for the best. It will be the safest course for everyone," Jekyll said.
"A place like that would destroy you, Henry!" Utterson protested vehemently.
"I am already destroyed," Jekyll replied. "I do not want to die, John, but one more death at Hyde's hands and I shall take matters into my own hands, I swear it. At least in the asylum I might be kept alive." Even if only for a little longer.
"You might be tortured too!" John replied. "They may believe half the things they do are for the best, but they are just torture in the end."
"I would deserve no less," Jekyll answered.
"Oh for goodness sakes Henry!" Utterson said. "Have you spoken to those who care about you regarding this stupidity?"
"I am speaking to you," Jekyll answered.
"You have many more you need to speak to," Utterson answered.
"I have written letters," Jekyll replied.
"About your mad plan to check yourself into an asylum?" Utterson flatly asked.
"About the situation with Hyde returning in full and my intent to do something about it," Jekyll said. "I told them I would be disappearing for a while seeking treatment. I did not directly mention the loony bin, but I have little doubt at least a few of them will figure it out."
"I'll be sure they do!" Utterson said, snatching Jekyll's address book from the doctor's desk. Jekyll looked mildly annoyed but didn't protest. Utterson knew most of Jekyll's friends and was on good terms with each one - he might even call them friends himself - but there were a few whose addresses he couldn't for the life of him recall. "Is there any stopping you, my friend? Anything at all? Would you like to live with me and my family instead? People who know about your condition and understand better what you go through?"
"I would not put you at such risk, John. Never. It has already cost us Hastie," Jekyll replied. "I would not see it cost me you as well."
"Poor Lanyon died of shock, not of blunt force trauma or whatever the hell Hyde favours as a killing method."
"Blunt force trauma and severe beatings," Jekyll replied. "He likes it slow but not too slow."
"Oh gods," Utterson said in exasperation. "Leave it to you to have a complete nut case as an alter!"
"Hence the asylum," Jekyll said.
"There will be no asylum!" Utterson insisted.
"John, this is the only way! It is the most responsible thing to do and the safest decision that can be made. Please!" Jekyll begged.
Utterson glared at him a long moment before sighing and bowing his head. "Fine," he at last relented. "But the moment things begin to go wrong, the minute they use any form of torture on you, you are to write me, and I will come get you out of that place. One way or another."
"The minute the torture begins to become more than I think I can bear," Jekyll compromised.
"Good gods Henry!" Utterson said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You don't need to torture yourself for this!"
"Trust that I know my limits and what I'm doing," Jekyll said. "Please."
"Fine! But I do this under much duress," Utterson said, picking up his hat and slamming it down on his head angrily. "I suppose you're all ready to go," he added with a sneer in his voice.
"Yes," Jekyll confessed.
"Gods damn you Jekyll," Utterson said.
"They already have," Jekyll answered.
"Oh for the love of… I can't believe you," Utterson said.
"I barely believe me," Jekyll dryly said. Utterson shook his head hopelessly.
Frozen
The asylum loomed before them in the dusk as the carriage rode quietly up to it. The old iron gates, horrifying in appearance, creaked slowly open. The large building behind them was terrifying to look at, and the sounds coming from within? They were the stuff of nightmares. Screams and weeping and wailing… Utterson shuddered. Jekyll stared listlessly at it.
"I'm telling you Henry, this isn't the place for you," Utterson said.
"No place safer for Hyde to be kept," Jekyll replied.
"This is wrong!" Utterson insisted.
"This is what I have left to me," Jekyll said.
"You have friends who want to help you," Utterson pled.
"I have friends I would not see killed for my sake," Jekyll answered. "Lanyon's blood on my hands was painful enough to cope with and I barely made it through. I shouldn't have. The blood of anyone else I love added to it would end me. I could not survive it again."
"Dammit Henry!" Utterson said, punching the seat in front of them angrily.
"Try and understand, Utterson. I do this for the good of humanity," Jekyll said. "I am a weapon now, and I would not see that weapon used to conquer like Carabis plans."
"Carabis, Carabis, always Carabis," Utterson said.
"He is the driving force behind every recent event that has happened to our companions and ourselves these last few years," Jekyll said. "With exception to maybe one or two things I cannot immediately recall offhand. He is a being of immense power and destructive capability."
"When something evil has proven to be the driving force behind recent events, then seek something good that can counter it and become the driving force in its place. Not love though. That's too cliched," Utterson half-joked.
"Love is also the most powerful of all driving forces," Jekyll said.
"Then why are the others letting evil be the driving force behind their actions?" Utterson asked.
"Because evil tends to use love against you," Jekyll replied.
"Turn it around and use love against evil then," Utterson said.
"That, my friend, is far easier said than done I am afraid," Jekyll answered with a rueful and somewhat sad smile.
"But someone must know how to do it," Utterson said. Jekyll was quiet, considering the remark. There may be a point somewhere in there that he would do well to look at. He supposed all the downtime he would be getting in the asylum would allow him to do just that. The carriage came to a stop and Jekyll looked woefully up at the grand yet horrifying building that would soon become his home. He did not relish it, and he knew that Hyde certainly would not. "There is no turning back, once we're inside," Utterson said. "Once they lock you in, there will be no getting out. Ever. If you try to check yourself out, they will claim it was Hyde. If you do anything they dislike, they will claim it was Hyde and punish you or deal with you accordingly."
"If I attempt to check myself out, odds are it is Hyde," Jekyll said. "May only an outside party ever check me out of this place.
Utterson shook his head and gave up trying to talk his companion out of this. No matter how much he desired to, no matter how hard he pushed, he knew that Jekyll would not be swayed. "I hate this," he said flat out.
"I know. They did not start out as bad of places as they are now you know. That is to say they did, but earlier in this century, they had been improving immensely, leaning more towards cure than confinement. Restraints were done away with, patients were treated as people, plays and shows were put on… Then asylums began to become overcrowded. Understaffed, those employed there had to reimplement restraints to protect not only themselves, but their patients as well. Then the degradation began again."
"A pity you didn't put yourself in an asylum early in the century then," Utterson flatly said, getting out of the coach.
Jekyll winced a bit then sighed, following his friend. "Trust that I will be alright," he said.
"I wish that I could, Henry," Utterson answered, looking up at the doors as they approached them.
Frozen
It was Utterson who was most afraid when they entered. More so than Jekyll seemed to be. Jekyll seemed only resigned, stoic and unmovable. Utterson could not stop looking uneasily around, eyes darting to every moving thing he saw. An old clock ticked steadily in the background. Terrified, pleading, and pained screams filled his ears. The distant sounds of women weeping hysterically and men screaming in wrath or dread echoed faintly through the halls, shut up tightly behind locked, windowed doors. He peered into one of the corridors and shuddered. There were patients in the hallway seated on chairs, so absolutely still and listless it almost seemed they were dead…
Utterson swallowed thickly and looked around the reception area. He froze in place when he saw a little child swaying in a corner and staring at a wall while a concerned nurse looked on, nervously wringing her hands. He flinched, looking away from the sight. Jekyll's eyes found it though, and his gaze remained.
Utterson walked up to the desk. "I-I would like to check someone in," he said to the woman seated there. He gasped when he felt Jekyll leave his side. He looked quickly over. The doctor was making his way towards the nurse and the child.
"Excuse me sir!" the receptionist called after him.
"It-it's alright! He's a doctor," Utterson quickly said. She didn't need to know just yet that the doctor would be the one he checked in.
Jekyll approached the nurse and watched the child. "What happened to her?" he questioned.
"Horrible things, sir," the nurse said. "She lived happy and content with her parents. One night an intruder came in. He murdered them both while they slept in bed, her cuddled between them, then did such horrid things to her. Such horrid, horrid things. He took her captive, took over her house, and for far too long her life was made hell before at last her uncle became suspicious of his sister's absence and took along his wife to investigate. When they learned what had happened, they acted immediately. They had the man arrested, they took the child in, but the child would not be touched, refused to even be talked to, would not even eat or drink… They simply could not deal with it while also dealing with their grief, so they sent her here."
"Then she will not respond favourably to any man I take it," Jekyll said.
"Not so far, sir," the nurse answered. "I have been the only one she has spoken to."
"Then there must be something special about you indeed. Perhaps you remind her of her mother," Jekyll said.
"I do, sir. She called me mama the first time she saw me. The poor thing hoped her mother had come back for her," the woman said.
"Do you know what her parents looked like?" Jekyll asked.
"There are pictures," the nurse answered. "The child guards them obsessively."
"Go and get them. Hurry," Jekyll said. The nurse nodded and hurried off.
"Jekyll, what the hell are you doing?" Utterson said in disbelief. Jekyll waved him off. Utterson glanced at the receptionist with a sheepish look. "I am so sorry about this delay," he said.
"No, it's alright," the receptionist replied. "If the doctor can somehow reach the child, all the better for it. He is quite young for his profession, isn't he?"
"He looks younger than he is. In reality, the man is in his middle years. His fifties in fact," Utterson replied.
"Why he's hardly started to gray!" she exclaimed.
"He takes excellent care of himself and has a somewhat vain streak besides," Utterson answered.
The nurse came back with the pictures and showed them to Jekyll. Jekyll showed interest only in the pictures of the father. He only glanced over the mother's. "Remove your nurse's cap," he said to her after a moment. She was puzzled but didn't argue. She slipped it off her head. "Let your hair loose," Jekyll said. The woman stared at him like she thought him insane. "I want you to look as much like her mother as you can." The woman seemed to get the sense of what he was doing and obeyed, letting her hair loose. Jekyll examined the picture of the father a little more before letting his own hair loose. His hair was a little longer than the child's father's had been, but it was the same colour more or less, and he shared much the same facial structure. "Are there false facial hairs on hand?" he asked.
"Some. Costumes for children," the nurse answered.
"Unsanitary, but beggars cannot be choosers I suppose. Find one similar to this or that can be made like it," he directed. The nurse hurried to obey.
"Jekyll, are you entirely sure this will work?" Utterson asked.
"Not in the slightest, but everything else has been tried so I might as well improvise it a little," he replied. "Human psychology appears on the outside very universal, but every person is different and will not react to the same things the same way," Jekyll said. The nurse returned, offering him the false mustache along with an adhesive. "Thank you," he said, taking it. He applied the mustache. "What is her name?"
"Harriet," the woman answered.
Jekyll nodded and approached the little one, moving into her peripheral vision and keeping a fair distance away from her. He knelt there. "Harriett," he gently called out, lowering his register a little. He was banking on her father's voice being lower than his own. He had a very soft-spoken tone to his voice. A good deal of men did not and spoke at lower registers. It was a gamble, but here was hoping it paid off.
The girl paused in her swaying briefly before continuing and breathing a little quicker. Jekyll moved a bit more into her line of sight. "Harriet," he called again. She glanced and this time caught her breath. Quickly she looked at him as if hardly able to believe what she was seeing. "Daddy?" she fearfully asked. Jekyll looked to the nurse and tossed his head a bit as if to summon her. She came and stood behind him, hands clasped in front of her. "Perhaps she is hungry, darling," Jekyll said to the woman.
"Harriet love, are you hungry at all?" the woman asked. "I can make you your favourite supper, only I do not remember what it was dearest. You could perhaps help me make it if you would like," she said. She assumed, at least, that what the doctor was doing was playing surrogate parent. The little girl stared at them in silence, but the swaying had stopped. Tears welled in her eyes.
"You are so very afraid, little one," Jekyll murmured. "You have every right to be. That wicked man is dead now, darling. Or if he is not dead, he will be soon. He will never hurt you again, I promise. No one will ever hurt you again."
"I would never let them!" the nurse quickly and almost desperately chimed in. Jekyll gave her a look that silently warned her to slow down. She was trying too hard and moving too fast for the child to be ready to cope with.
The child was quiet, watching him warily. She sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes with a sleeve. "It is only fear, isn't it? You are not mad, just afraid. Have they told you that you are not right in the head? You are right, Harriet. You are very right. That wicked man who took us from you is no more, but that still does not bring us back, does it?" The girl broke down into tears. The nurse made to go to her but Jekyll held up his hand, warning her not to. In this state, she might just as easily panic and start screaming if someone came up to her. "You must let her be the one to approach. Draw her out but do not go to her. She must feel ready to come to you and to others," Jekyll said. "You absolutely cannot force contact or affection when she has been traumatized as badly as she has. How has her sleep been?"
"Horrid," the woman said.
"What has been tried to aid it?" Jekyll asked.
"The medications that have been tried put her to sleep, but she still wakes up tired in the morning," she said.
"They more likely knock her out. I know how to make a sleeping draught that will not have that same effect. It may be an improvement. Bring me a pad and paper and I will write it down, as well as some other methods I believe would help her with at least some of the problems she is having outwardly, such as sleep deprivation and starvation. One or two will even help to reduce her anxiety, in theory," Jekyll said.
"Who are you?" the nurse asked, mystified.
"Dr. Henry Jekyll. I have a doctorate in medical sciences, psychology, and in chemistry," he answered. "Foremost I am a scientist. My medical practice takes up most of my time but puts food on the table. My background as a chemist greatly enhances and supplements my practice as a doctor."
"Dr. Jekyll?" she asked in shock and a measure of awe. "You are the most renowned doctor in London!"
"So I have been told," Jekyll replied. "But that is not what we are discussing now." He looked towards the child who was still weeping. "Harriet," he said again. She lifted her head, sniffing and crying still. "Harriet, I know that I am not who you want me to be," he softly said. "We know that we are not fooling you." But his and the nurse's appearances were ones that she had known since birth and inherently trusted down to her very bones. The looks of her parents who had protected her and taken care of her and kept away anything that would harm her until that fateful day they had been ripped away.
"I want mama and papa," the child said, and given the soft gasp the nurse let out, he had probably been the first man the poor thing had spoken to since she had been saved.
"We know, darling. You have aunty and uncle," he suggested. "She shook her head vigorously. "Very well. You do not have to go back to them. They miss you, though. Could they visit? At least aunty?" The child was still. After a moment she tentatively nodded.
"Your uncle was your mother's brother, you know. He used to protect her like your daddy protected you and mommy," the nurse said, trying to help in some way. Jekyll clenched his jaw a bit, but perhaps now would be an alright time to try and slip a male figure back into the child's life. One she trusted and knew. "He never hurt your mama, did he? Or you?" the nurse asked. She had potential, Jekyll noted, but tended to move too quickly. Her heart was greater than her patience. She wanted to make the world right immediately, but nothing good ever came about immediately. Or rarely did.
The child shook her head. "Perhaps one day dear, but let us not press the matter now," Jekyll said to the nurse more than to the child. He looked to Harriet again and smiled. "You do not need to worry about him, little one. Or about anyone anymore." It would be a hard pill for her uncle to swallow, but hopefully he could be made to understand why he could not immediately accompany his wife to see their niece. Harriet was quiet.
"Are you hungry, dearest? You cannot possibly not be hungry, right? I will make you something to eat, your favourite if you will help me," the nurse pressed again
The child was quiet, fixated on Jekyll. "I will not accompany you unless you want me to," he said to her, remaining kneeling at her level so he looked as unthreatening as humanly possible. She shook her head quickly. "Very well," Jekyll said. He looked to the nurse. "You should take her now, while she is still in the mood. This child does not need doctors hovering over her, nurse. She needs only you nearby, and perhaps some of the other nurses, but at no time ever will you let any man near her alone. If a man must be near, ensure you at the very least are there, and preferably one or two other women as well. Not grouped together, but spread through the room so she does not feel trapped or boxed in. I will give you again my recommendations for medications, as well as my personal formulas for some other things that will help her cope. Take her now, before I rise. If I rise it may cow her and send her back into the corner."
The nurse nodded and smiled gently at Harriet, though the smile was forced. "Come on little one," she said, offering her hand. The girl was still. The nurse waited. The girl watched Jekyll warily but slowly began to approach the nurse. Her eyes remained on the man, waiting for any sudden movement. Jekyll was utterly still, only offering a reassuring smile when she met his eyes. The child sprinted the rest of the distance to the nurse, seizing her hand in a death grip with both of her own and putting the woman between herself and him, eyes fixated on him. He did not make any sudden movement and didn't even meet her eyes at this point, instead choosing to check a pocket watch and act distracted by other things. He wanted her to feel as though the last thing on his mind was doing anything to hurt her. That was the case from the start, of course, but the girl had to develop that trust for herself again. The nurse smiled down at the child and brought her quickly away.
Frozen
After they left the room, Jekyll at last rose and dusted himself off. He peeled off the mustache and winced a bit. It wasn't pleasant to be sure. He wrinkled his nose a little, tossed the thing onto a table, then returned to Utterson and the receptionist. The latter was gaping at him in shocked disbelief. Utterson simply looked defeated. Perhaps even somewhat broken. Utterson shook his head as Jekyll approached. "You are a good man, Henry. This is not the life you deserve," he said in a last lame attempt to deter his companion from his course.
"As good a man as I may or may not be, Hyde is not," Jekyll said. "You do not think that I deserve this fate, but what fate does he deserve?" Utterson was quiet. They both knew the answer to that question, and it was one Utterson absolutely refused to vocalize. "Death," Henry answered for him. "By taking this course instead of the alternate, I am giving him more than he deserves."
"Wh-what is going on?" the receptionist asked, not privy to the conversation but sensing that something was wrong.
Utterson sighed. "It is Dr. Jekyll I am admitting to this place," he confessed tiredly, turning to the woman. The woman gasped and recoiled, a hand going to her chest in shock.
"D-Dr. Jekyll? Whatever for?!" she demanded.
"Do not fret over it madame. Or mademoiselle?" Jekyll said.
"Just-just ma'am," she replied. "Easier to say and gives nothing away."
"Understandable," Jekyll said. In a profession like this, sometimes the less anyone knew about you the better.
"Doctor, you are a perfectly sane man, aren't you? Why on earth would you choose to be in a place like this? Much of the staff is questionable, the methods used as treatments are unsettling to say the least, whether they are for the best or not, and for goodness sakes sir, you would hate it here!"
"I could at the same time be of some help during my admittance," Jekyll said.
"Then why not simply work here and save us from some measure of corruption?" she demanded.
"Dear woman, I am not of sound mind. Admitting here is best for everyone. Trust me in that," he replied.
"But sir…" she began.
"You must listen to me very carefully," Jekyll said to her. "What I am about to tell you may save your life."
She tensed up, paling a bit, and stared at him wide-eyed. "Yes doctor," she soon found the words to say.
Jekyll nodded. "Should I ever come down and attempt to check myself out, call for backup immediately but as subtly as can be gotten away with. Make up an excuse such as needing some witnesses to observe the checkout, ring a bell, do anything but let me go. I cannot be permitted to leave. Only Utterson and a choice few others will even have the ability to check me out. If I attempt it myself, it is not me."
"What?" she breathed, clearly terrified by his words.
Jekyll smiled ruefully. "I am of two minds, my lady. One of them is the man you see before you. The other is a violent man who lusts for blood and debauchery. He will not hesitate to kill whoever stands in his way. That is why I must admit myself here. I would not see him hurt anyone more than he already has."
"Jekyll, Hyde often takes over as a defense mechanism. What if your being here only makes it worse? "Utterson asked.
"Then at least he will be here where he can be corralled," Jekyll said. The receptionist took out the admittance papers, albeit reluctantly, and slid them over. Jekyll looked at his friend. "He was getting worse before our separation already. I do not doubt he will continue to get worse after this rejoining. Containment or freedom is the option. I would rather it be the former."
"You're a madman and Hyde should be the last reason you're admitting yourself here," Utterson bluntly said.
Jekyll laughed quietly but genuinely, and grinned fondly at his companion. "Your concern is touching, Utterson, but please. Do not try to talk me out of this. Trust my judgement."
"I don't trust your judgement, but I know I will not talk you out of this," Utterson said with a sigh. Jekyll smiled and turned to the paper. He picked up a quill and started to fill it out. Suddenly he stopped, though, and went still. Utterson frowned curiously and glanced up at his companion, who blinked a few times in confusion and frowned, looking around him. Utterson tensed up and reached out, extracting the quill gently from his hand and pulling the papers towards himself. The receptionist looked confused and a bit concerned.
"What is this place?" Jekyll asked, only it was not Jekyll's voice. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was unmistakably Jekyll's voice, but his tone was markedly harsher and his register had dropped. A rasp had crept in, harsh and guttural.
"This is an insane asylum, Edward," Utterson calmly replied, not meeting the man's eyes and simply continuing to fill in the information. "Henry has admitted you. It was that or see you hung. He is a doctor, his objective is to keep people alive, so he opted for this."
He felt the eyes of this mockery of his dear friend boring into his skull like he wished he could drill a hole through it. "An asylum? That fool really thinks that such a thing will keep me contained?"
"He knows that it will," Utterson answered. The woman looked terrified now, staring at Hyde in horror as the doctor she had heard such good things about, and had only just seen in action for herself, seemed to transform before her eyes.
"Hah! He is as deluded as you are," Hyde replied.
"Oh, I'm against this wholeheartedly, but then letting you loose on the streets would probably be worse still. At least Jekyll seems to think so. For that reason, I'll defer to his judgment on the matter," Utterson replied.
"It will only lead to death here instead," Hyde sneered. "Remind him of that little point."
"If you think for a moment you'll be left alone with anyone after all of this for even a minute, you're madder than Henry is," Utterson said, giving him an annoyed look out the corner of his eyes. He turned back to the admittance forms and finished them off. Hyde eyed them up then suddenly tried to snatch them. Utterson pulled them swiftly away and handed them to the woman who immediately rang the bell for doctors to come and place Hyde in a cell. The doctors and nurses called them rooms, everyone preferred that term, but no one was deluded. The rooms were basically somewhat more comfortable cells.
"You stupid fools!" Hyde spat.
"Are you afraid, Edward? Don't worry. Henry will only ever do what's best for you. After all, you share a body," Utterson said. "He'll protect you when he can. The one more likely to get you hurt or killed is yourself."
"I will not be contained in this hell house!" Hyde shouted, swinging his arm wide in an elaborate gesture that was inherently Hyde. In all he did Hye was dramatic. Jekyll was far more reserved and in control.
"You are and will be!" Utterson shot.
"Incompetent!" Hyde shouted, raising his cane swiftly and going to strike Utterson, who gasped and barely managed to get up his own cane in time to block it. He staggered under the power of the blow but deflected it. He seized the cane and tore it from Hyde's grasp, stumbling quickly back as Hyde scowled. The man went at him again physically this time, going for the throat. Utterson fended him off as the doctors appeared and let out alarmed shouts, racing to seize the infuriated man.
"Don't hurt him!" Utterson exclaimed as Hyde was seized and jerked roughly back.
"Dr. Jekyll?" one of the physicians exclaimed in shock.
"No! It is his alter, Mr. Hyde. The doctor is ill. He is of two minds. One is doctor Jekyll, the other is this violent and dangerous madman who calls himself Edward Hyde," Utterson quickly said. The receptionist quickly handed over the admittance papers for the doctors to look over.
"My gods," one said in a breath.
"How long has he suffered from this ailment?" another demanded of Utterson.
"I don't know," Utterson lied.
"Surely not long. He never seemed all that strange a fellow," the first doctor said. "He seemed perfectly fine! It must be recent."
"Or he hid it very well," the second said.
"Whatever the case, it is clearly not the good doctor we are handling now," the third stated.
"Henry will regret this. I will see to it he forever regrets this!" Hyde shouted at Utterson.
"Please Edward, just cooperate. Do not make this worse for either of you," Utterson tiredly tried to reason.
"You haven't begun to see what worse can be!" Hyde shouted. "Damn you all to hell! I will drag each and every one of you to the depths of the Otherworld myself! You are as good as dead. Jekyll has doomed you all!" The man cried out as a doctor shoved a syringe into his arm and injected it quickly. There was a brief struggle before Hyde collapsed unconscious. Utterson watched on, a pained look in his eyes.
"I am so sorry Henry," he said, voice breaking and barely above a whisper.
"Take him to the west wing," the head doctor said. Utterson gasped. That was where the most dangerous and unstable of patients were taken. Or the ones so dangerously stable that containing them was a miracle and a half. The doctors lifted the man between them and brought him to a gurney. They lay him down and hurried to take him away. No one wanted to strap him down. Doctor Jekyll was renowned and popular and highly regarded, and none of them relished what had to be done.
"Please, his presence here must be kept secret," Utterson said, desperately hoping to spare the man his reputation as well as it could be spared. "No one can ever know where he has gone or why."
"His confidentiality will be top priority," one of the head doctors replied, turning tiredly to Utterson again. "Henry Jekyll… I can hardly believe it. He seemed so sane."
"He is! It is Hyde who isn't," Utterson said.
"They are one and the same," the doctor said.
"No! I mean yes, maybe in a sense, but no, they are completely different people! Jekyll you do not have to fear, not ever. It is Hyde who must be watched," Utterson said, reluctant to go anywhere. "Please, you must understand, Jekyll must be treated gently. If he is not, Hyde is almost guaranteed to emerge. Hyde would do well to be treated like a decent human being as well because as monstrous as he may be, he is still a man."
"It is not me or my team that you must be fearful of," the doctor answered solemnly. "It is others. We cannot protect him from everyone. Not even other physicians and nurses, let alone from patients. We can only try to do our best. Good day, Mr. Utterson." The doctor turned and left, leaving Utterson to gape after him brokenly.
"I am sorry, Mr. Utterson," the receptionist, who watched with hands covering her mouth, said in a breath. "I am so sorry."
"Be sorry for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, not for me," Utterson hollowly replied. She nodded, tears pricking her eyes. Utterson let out a breath and turned, leaving. He left Jekyll's cane at the desk. Jekyll's other things would join it soon enough. The cane could never fall into his hands again, it was Hyde's weapon of choice, but eventually the clothing they would inevitably take from him, and the luggage they'd brought along, would be given back. He hoped. "Will he get his things back?" Utterson asked.
"Some. Maybe. It depends on who investigates his belongings," the receptionist tightly replied. "Nothing could be returned, everything could, or only some things."
Utterson shook his head in denial and closed his eyes tightly. He turned and left rapidly. He couldn't cope with this now. He had to leave and find someone to open up to. Most likely some of his and Jekyll's shared companions. Edvard with caution, if at all. He was, after all, Louise's brother.
Frozen
Utterson sat in the company of his and Jekyll's shared friend group, most of which were closer to Jekyll than to him with some exceptions. Each one looked more horrified and shocked than the last. Utterson sniffed, holding a drink in hand with eyes tightly shut. "He packed extremely light. No personal effects at all almost. Like he didn't expect he would leave that place alive and expected his things to be stored somewhere and forgotten about rather than given back. Or stored there after his death and just abandoned. As if no one would go to try and get them back. The man is more loved than he likes to believe," Utterson finished after narrating the story.
"My gods… Henry," Edvard said in shock. "I wanted him to get help, but like this?"
"He did what he believed was safest for everyone. Maybe he was right," Carl solemnly said.
"There-there was someone who was supposed to help him! Where is he?" Hans demanded.
"I'm not sure he even knows, Hans," Edvard said.
"But he's here?" Hans asked.
Edvard winced. Oh yes, Hans was a bit behind the times on that front. Edvard nodded. "I met him. So did Louise," he confessed.
"Then we need to find him and talk to him!" Hans said.
"He'd probably be locked up too," Carl dryly said. "Then what, Hans? You want all his companions to ride on a random insane asylum and wreak medieval havoc?"
"Wait, what?" Hans Orsted said, looking puzzled.
"Long story," Carl brushed off.
"Why haven't I heard it either?" Harrald indignantly asked, frowning at Hans.
"The fewer who know the story the better. We've kept it only between those directly affected by it or who have directly dealt with or crossed them. Carl found out pretty well by fluke," Hans replied. "Edvard and Jekyll didn't guard their tongues. No more questions about them for now. For everyone's sake," Hans said. "Right now, they don't factor into this. This is about Jekyll and his stupidity."
"Was it as foolish as that though?" Hans Orsted asked.
"Torturing himself isn't going to solve the issue of Mr. Hyde," Hans said.
"But it'll contain him, right? Keep him from hurting anyone else," Kristoff uneasily said.
"In theory," Hans replied. "But none of us know what Hyde is really capable of!"
"No more or less than Jekyll is," Francis said.
"Jekyll is very, very capable," Erik said with a frown. "It just so happens he has much better control over himself than Hyde does. Have you seen the man shirtless? He has the body of a man twenty years his junior! His arm is nothing to scoff at either if you've ever seen him swing at anything."
"You have?" Francis asked, puzzled.
"I went out drinking with him once when I was visiting England on leave. To be specific, I drank and he watched in amusement as I slowly lost my senses. He helped me back to Buckingham Palace, where the Duke had secured my lodgings, but on the way there the topic of Hyde came up and I wondered how the man could have killed anyone with just a cane. Jekyll went off on some tangent or other about trauma and pointed to his leaded cane as a demonstration as we entered the palace training grounds. I laughed and mocked him and challenged him to show me what he could do with that cane of his on a training dummy. Suffice to say I had no further questions about how Hyde could have killed someone with a cane. Jekyll struck it with all his might, and the power behind the blow was a marvel in and of itself. He told me afterward that though Hyde was dwarfish, it did not diminish his strength much from what Jekyll's own was, given they were mirrors of one another. A diminutive man with Jekyll's power behind his blows? Enough said. For those curious, the training dummy was rendered useless by a single blow. It was of course made of straw, but the force behind that strike would have shattered bone. Hyde apparently likes to drag it out a little longer and hits lighter. I was somewhat disturbed by how excited and enthusiastic Jekyll was discussing the matter."
"You were drunk and remembered all that?" Francis doubtfully asked.
"I wasn't as drunk as Jekyll must have believed I was, because I doubt he would have been so animated had he known I would recall all of it," Erik said.
"Our good doctor with that sort of deceptive dark little streak?" Hans Orsted asked in surprise.
"Henry was wild in his youth," Utterson said with a sigh. "We all were, he, Lanyon, and I, but Jekyll was by far the worst of us. As he got older, he matured out of many of those tendencies, or at least repressed them. About his forties they began to trickle back in inklings. He started reminiscing about the old days and wondering over things he had no business wondering over. He started being tempted by old, depraved, nefarious, selfish habits. Hyde began to increase his presence about that time, and Jekyll stopped resenting him as much as he had in his late twenties, thirties, and early forties. He tried to keep his other side in check only for fear of losing his reputation, but questions kept pricking at his mind. What ifs and musing such as 'what would it be like' or 'surely just once will not hurt'. He hated those temptations and he hated the dark and wild thoughts that were beginning to manifest again, but Hyde's subsequent resurgence in the wake of those desires got the gears turning. Edward Hyde could prove a useful tool. As Hyde, Jekyll could indulge his darkest vices and be clear of all blame just as long as Hyde did not look like him. The potion Henry devised would give Edward a new appearance, separate from Henry's, and that appearance would not change back until Jekyll took the neutralizing agent he developed. That way, should Jekyll come back while Hyde was on a bender, he could either escape unscathed or, if curiosity got the best of him, play the role of Edward Hyde until he tired of it or until good sense kicked in."
"So he had a midlife crisis and lost all sense," Hans flatly said, sounding unimpressed.
"More or less. But when that crisis subsided, his reasons for keeping the formula around were centered on his desire to keep Jekyll from hanging for Hyde's deeds should Hyde ever be caught in a wicked act while in Jekyll's body. Giving Hyde a separate appearance from Jekyll was nothing short of a stroke of brilliance, but things as you well know didn't go according to plan. Because of the tainted salts Jekyll used in his potion, a brilliant ploy turned into a nightmarish curse. Hyde grew more and more powerful. You know the rest," Utterson said. "The point is, Henry was no saint. At least not always. Goodness knew he tried to be, after he had grown up some, but old habits die hard, and his little midlife crisis pretty well did him in for that. At least for the brief time he was going through it. He got a grip within a year or so, but by then the corrupted potion had been created and it was too late to stop what rose in its wake," Utterson said.
"So then what do we do now?" Kristoff asked solemnly.
"If we're wise? Nothing," Carl answered, shaking his head. "I hate to think of what he will suffer in that asylum, but in the end, they are trying to help him. As questionable as their methods may be. Cold as it seems, his being locked up in there is without question the best way to keep Hyde contained."
"Or it could lead to a massacre," Hans replied, his outlook on how this would play out a far more pessimistic one.
"Gods, what am I going to tell Louise?" Edvard asked, resting his face in a hand and shaking his head.
"What are we going to tell any of the others?" Francis dryly said. "Not all of them know yet, surely. They will have to be informed."
"Jekyll, I think, planned to write letters," Edvard said. "Of course, no telling if he had this particular course of action planned at all when he wrote them."
"The asylum allows visitors, doesn't it?" Orsted asked.
"It should," Harrald Scharff replied. "There is no reason it shouldn't! Right?"
"Whether they allow visitors or not, they'll make exceptions for royalty," Hans said. "We need to get in contact with Jekyll's little helper and fill him in on the goings on. He may have insight into where to go from here that we don't. He has people he can talk to and request help from. Edvard and I will take care of that."
"Agreed," Edvard said, rising and taking his coat. "He went to find your brother. That's the last I knew of him. I'm not sure either knows what befell Henry yet. They probably would have returned to the place, but Jekyll might have already gone off to find Utterson by then. He would have left a note, so who knows how long they've been hanging around there waiting for news. Let's go." Hans nodded and stood. He left quickly with Edvard on his heels.
"Hans, wait up! I'm coming too!" Kristoff called, pursuing the other two.
"What of you, Utterson?" Carl questioned after Kristoff had left.
"My focus is gone I'm afraid. I can't bear to think of Jekyll in that place," Utterson replied. "If he needs help, they'll let me know, I'm sure. I fully expect a complete and detailed report of his condition to be sent to me. I only pray it is a good one. If things get bad, I will see him released whether he likes it or not. For everyone's safety."
"Will you not visit him for yourself?" Francis asked, sounding sympathetic.
"I can't," Utterson said, shaking his head vehemently. "That place… It's so wrong. Seeing Jekyll in such a location in the state of mind he's in would break me, and I fear I would do him far more harm than good. I will perhaps try, once we are able, but that remains to be seen." The others nodded in understanding.