Fanworks

The Same Side of Two Coins

Originally published 2019-03-13 | 3124 words | 1 chapter (unfinished) | read on AO3

Fandom: The Glass Scientists

Characters: Hyde, Jekyll, Rachel, the Lodgers

Warnings: None

Other tags: Alternate universe

Summary: Be careful of what you wish for. It might just come true.
Title from 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead'.

Chapter 1: The Reveal

Hyde slowly opened his eyes.

The light coming through the half-opened curtains was painful to look at. His head was positively splitting, and objects were dashing in front of his vision. His body felt twice its usual weight today, and it took more than a few seconds of effort to raise himself from the bed and take a proper look around.

Man, he was starting to forget what this place looks like! Lately Hyde haven't had the opportunity to stop at his old apartment in Soho. Yet the place didn't look abandoned - the landlady must have been doing some cleaning. The bedside table was crystal clear and its contents neatly organised, the potted plant Hyde brought home after one of his nightly adventures hadn't died yet somehow, and the antique carpet which Henry had insisted on decorating the room with didn't seem to accumulate any dust at all.

Speaking of which...

"Jekyll?"

No answer.

"Jekyll?" he repeated, a bit more sternly.

Still no answer.

"I see what you're doing, doctor. Giving me the silent treatment again?"

Nothing again.

Hyde would gladly go on with his day if it was just the silent treatment. He doesn't want to hear too much from the good doctor anyway, when he's in control. But something was telling him there was more to it than that.

"Very funny. I'll admit it, you really scared me there for a few seconds. You got me, okay? Can we talk now?"

Henry wasn't responding.

In fact, Hyde wasn't feeling his presence at all. The corner of their mind he would usually retreat to when not in control felt strangely empty.

Hyde was starting to get worried. He turned to the cheval-glass to maybe catch a glimpse of his other self's projected appearance, but the glass wasn't there. Did the landlady move it, perhaps? Or did he neglect his flat for so long that he'd forgotten where the mirror was?

He took another glance around the room. No, the mirror definitely wasn't there. And he was positive that it was supposed to be at this very spot. Why would it be moved? And, more importantly, why won't Henry answer him?

Could it be related to what happened yesterday?

Hyde started to look back at the events of last night, and discovered, to his great surprise, that it's much harder to do than he expected. He was at the Society... no, that's not right. He must have been in Soho, right? Otherwise how would he end up in his flat? No, that can't be it either, he hasn't been here since forever...

Was Frankenstein there? No, no, that happened a few days ago... He tried several times to find some clue in the jumbled mess of his memories, to no avail. It seemed he had completely forgotten the events of the last twenty-four hours, if not more.

This was getting stranger and stranger. Surely, he would have amnesia sometimes, after a good amount of absinthe. But that would only last for a couple of hours, not an entire day! Besides, he'd always have Henry, who would remember all the important events for him. And now he was nowhere to be found.

Looks like he will have to ask someone besides Henry.

Thankfully, he was already in his usual ghastly attire, and not in Henry's clothes, too loose and too fancy for him. He flung the window open, took one last glance at the glass surface, and, seeing nothing but his own faint reflection in there, climbed outside.

It was one of those fine, cloudless days that London sees so little of. The rooves were dry and warmed well by the sun, there was no wind, and yet Hyde tripped and slipped so often on his way one could think there was a terrible rainstorm. He didn't really pay much attention to where he was going, and navigated purely from memory.

Something was wrong, he kept telling himself. With him, with Henry, or, perhaps, with everyone else. The whole world felt wrong for him. It looked wrong, it smelled wrong. Something was off, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Hyde shook his head and looked in front of him. Damn it! He has probably taken a wrong turn, now he has to go all the way back and figure it all out again...

No, that was the right place.

He had to take a second look to make sure the building in front of him was, in fact, the Society for Arcane Sciences. It was barely recognisable. The exterior was dull and shabby, the paint went off in a couple of places, the brazen emblem on the top was nowhere to be seen.

The roof - that has astonished Hyde the most - was completely flat; that being, it lacked the various additions and amendments that the Lodgers had put on it. There were no windows, no chimneys (besides the ones from the kitchen and the common room), no wind turbines, no lightning rods, no telescope, just a lone Union Jack towering above the entrance, giving the place more of a desolate look than a solemn one.

Hyde rushed to the ground. Usually he would enter from the roof or the kitchen window, but this time he had to see the damage for himself, so he made his way to the main entrance. He slammed the door with his foot and ran inside.

There he was blinded again; after having finally gotten used to the bright sunlight outside, his eyes had to adapt anew to the dim lighting of the main hall. It didn't even look much like a hall anymore; if Hyde had never been here before, he'd mistake the large space for a wareroom or workhouse. Indeed, it was almost empty; almost all of the displays were gone. The sound of Hyde's footsteps was echoed by the tall empty walls and covered up windows. Where there once was a Leviathan skeleton hanging above, there was now only a vast darkness.

The only items remaining were a few glass cases of the gemologists, and loads and loads of boxes. Hyde inspected their contents and recognised some of the scientific equipment the Lodgers used in their work. Everything was carefully packed and labeled.

Suddenly, Hyde heard footsteps coming from the second floor. He didn't have enough time to put the Bunsen burner back in its place as he heard a familiar voice call:

"What are you looking for in there, Mr Hyde?"

He lifted his head and saw Ito going down the stairs, followed by Bird and Archer. They at least looked more or less like their usual selves, except the look on Ito's face was sterner than Hyde ever remembered her having. And that said a lot, given how often he got in trouble with her.

"Oh, you know, just checking. Listen, what's up with those renovations?"

"Renovations?" Ito tilted her head. "More importantly, what are you doing with Miss Lavender's private belongings?"

"I mean all this," Hyde glanced over the hall. "Has Jekyll approved of the changes?"

"Who? Hyde, you better have a good explanation for all this."

"Henry. Henry Jekyll," repeated Hyde annoyingly.

"You mean Gertrude Jekyll, the horticulturist?" interfered Bird. "Never heard of a Henry!"

All of a sudden, Hyde started to understand.

"So you don't know who Henry Jekyll is?"

"Not a clue, mate. What's gone into you today? You don't exactly look drunk..." pondered Archer.

"Who are the founders of our Society, then?"

"The founder is Dr Robert Lanyon, and you know it!" retorted Ito, who started to lose her temper.

"And no-one else?"

"Why would there be anyone else?!"

Hyde didn't hear anything after that. His mind was fixed on this one thought, this sole realization. It was impossible. It was chimerical. It seemed like something from a dream. Yet it was the only explanation that made sense.

Besides, he was at the Society for Arcane Sciences. Anything was possible in this place.

The facts spoke for themselves.

Henry Jekyll has never existed.

Jekyll opened his eyes.

It was still fairly dark in the room. The skies outside were coloured in a rich blue; it appeared he had woken up before dawn. His head hurt, his body ached all over, but he didn't feel sleepy or tired any more.

The servants were still asleep, the traffic outside hadn't started yet, and so the world was completely quiet. It was rather strange, actually, to see the house in such a tranquil state. He would rarely wake up at such an early hour, before the world would go on with its daily whirlwind of events.

Staying up until dawn, now that was different. In his wilder years, he used to spend many a sleepless night bending over scientific apparatus, with the dull lamp and the glow of alchemical components as his only light and guidance. As a matter of fact, these early hours were eerily similar to the morning...

"Do you remember? The morning when you first came into existence."

It's been so long since that fateful hour, yet he remembers it as clear as if it was only yesterday. It's hard to forget a morning like this, really. It was the morning that changed the history of rogue science forever. The morning that changed the history of mankind forever. The day when Edward Hyde was born.

...Now that's odd. Usually it was Edward who would slip into a flowely monologue like this. Surely, Jekyll's line of work also obliged him to deliver a speech every now and then, but those were always rehearsed beforehand. Turning the first object in sight into an endless stream of unprompted purple prose - that was Edward's specialty.

"...Edward? Are you... are you okay?"

That was a stupid question. Frankly, talking to oneself in general was a stupid habit, but Jekyll was way over that stage. But it was especially stupid to ask about the well-being of someone who is, quite literally, yourself. Edward was a part of him, he should know whether he's okay or not without any questions. And yet... he couldn't tell. The blond was keeping strangely silent.

Well, if he had been given the opportunity to have a nice, peaceful morning, without a certain someone whining and nagging in his head, he's going to take it. And so, Jekyll got out of bed and started slowly preparing himself for the new busy day.

The day was in fact starting wonderfully. The breakfast was delicious, the house crystal clean, the servants especially corteous and not at all surprised to see Jekyll already out of bed. He had to pinch himself - did he actually wake up, or was this all just a pleasant dream, soon to fade out into the dull reality? It felt too perfect to be true.

"Poole, what day is it today?" asked Jekyll, in rather a casual matter. He was just about to leave for the Society.

"It's Tuesday, sir," responded the butler.

"I see." Jekyll frowned. "Fetch me the coat, please. Do you by any chance recall when I returned home last night?"

"At about eight in the evening, sir, if my memory serves me right."

"Thank you." Jekyll started to put on his coat, aided by Poole. "...Did Mr Hyde come for a visit, by any chance?

"No, sir." The question seemed quite surprising for Poole. "Were you expecting anyone, sir?"

"...No, not really." Jekyll was now staring into vacancy. For a moment, he was completely unaware of his surroundings.

"Sir? Dr Jekyll, sir, is everything alright?" Poole's words brought him back to reality.

"Y-yes, Poole, quite right." He turned to Poole and gave him one of his signature charming smiles. "I will probably return late today. The Society needs me these days more than ever."

"Very well, sir. Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Poole."

The air was chilly but pleasant enough, and Jekyll decided to reach the Society by foot today instead of ordering a cab. It was one of the nicest mornings he had ever experienced. Even the gloomy London fog graciously lifted itself off the city. Jekyll expected to have his already cheerful spirits improve even more over the course of this little walk, and to arrive at the Society in an excellent mood, ready to tackle today's tasks with fresh energy.

Yet he couldn't quite concentrate on the peaceful scenery.

Tuesday, huh? Yes, that seemed about right. He had another meeting with the sponsors, a dinner at Mrs Barnett's, and he also had to find the time to talk with Mr Archer about the missing compounds to his machine - it was a vital part of the Exhibition, would be a shame if it wasn't finished in time... He still wasn't entirely convinced it's Tuesday. Which is strange, considering he already got confirmation of that fact from Poole.

...Now that he thinks of it, he should have asked Poole whether he had sleepwalked last night. A bit of an embarrassing question, yes, but it would clear things out a bit. In his childhood, it was common for his parents to catch him sleepwalking; but Jekyll never knew his noctambulism carried well into adulthood - and the servants kept their mouths tightly shut on the issue - until Hyde has once woken up to see him, unconscious and unaware, going up the stairs to his laboratory.

Perhaps that's what happened today. Perhaps he was doing something in his sleep and that's why his memory is all fuzzy. Although it wouldn't explain why he's struggling to remember the last few days, too. Besides, if he had really sleepwalked, Hyde would remember it and never miss another opportunity to mock him.

Jekyll looked around him to check that he was not being watched, and said into nothingness:

"So, am I right? Did I really sleepwalk again?"

The nothingness said nothing.

"Why so silent all of a sudden? Did I," he chuckled, "perhaps do something so shocking that even you are at a loss of words?

Yet once again, only silence followed.

"You're starting to worry me with this behaviour. But I guess we'll have to talk about this later," said Jekyll, taking a turn and already seeing the shiny roof of the Society in the gap between the buildings.

The Society was already functioning in its usual rhythm. The day and night cycle affected the Lodgers very little, they seemed to be ready to work at all times, fueled only by enthusiasm and love for science. It changed little since the last time Jekyll left it - whenever that was - save for the newest inventions and displays that were put in the main hall for the Exhibition.

"Clarkson," called Jekyll for a nearby member of the staff, "open the windows, please. It's a wonderful day outside, don't leave them closed."

After a bit of chit-chat with the Lodgers, Jekyll was already heading to his office, to start on the paperwork for today, when he stumbled across one of the few faces he was not so happy to see this morning. She looked well-disposed, though, and was not even covered in blood nor in the possession of a knife. A good improvement, Jekyll noted.

"Henry! Here you are! Do you have a minute? I need to finalize the bill of fare for the Exhibition. I remember you mentioned one of our guests can't digest milk well and so I was wondering-"

"Rachel," Jekyll stopped her. He was, as a matter in fact, in good spirits today, but there were matters to resolve, even if they were not as pleasant. "Before we get to all the official stuff, I need to apologize."

"What for?" Jekyll took her by the hand and dragged her into a more discreet part of the main hall. Every wall in the Society had its ears, so true privacy could rarely be achieved, yet Jekyll didn't want his next words to be heard by everyone. Especially by a particular someone.

"Don't mention this to Dr Lanyon, but I... I have in fact been in contact with Mr Hyde lately. He's laying very low, obviously, he can't be seen by anyone - but he had sent me a message, and he told me that..."

"What?"

"I know it's hard to believe, since you know him so well, but Mr Hyde can, in fact, take care of himself. You have to put your trust in him."

"Henry, what the hell are you talking about?!" cried Rachel, forcing herself out of Jekyll's hand. "Who's Mr Hyde?"

"You don't want us to talk here? We can move to my office-"

"Henry, stop. I literally have no idea what this is all about, and who this Hyde person is."

Jekyll knew enough about people's voices and styles of speech to know when a person was lying. Rachel was dead serious.

"What do you- Hyde. Edward Hyde. My assistant."

Rachel stared at him in utter bewilderment.

"About this tall, unruly blond hair, green eyes, clothes of the same colour. Likes alcohol, rooves, pulling pranks on the Lodgers," continued Jekyll, carefully watching Rachel's expression in hope of seeing a reaction.

"Never saw him. Never heard of him, either."

"What's the matter, doctor?" Jekyll turned to see Pennebrygg directly behind him, with several nearby Lodgers also listening attentively. "You lost someone?"

"Has anyone here ever encountered or heard of a Mr Edward Hyde?" shouted Jekyll, making sure everyone in the hall could hear him. Everyone shaked their head.

"I... I need to check on something. Excuse me!" Jekyll rushed upstairs, away from everyone's gaze which he had just attracted, awkwardly stumbling and pushing a few Lodgers on his way.

He entered his office and locked the door. Here, he can be alone.

Except... it barely looked like his office now. No, the alchemical equipment, the books and diaries, the valuable documents were all still in place. Except... they were all on shelves. Just regular wooden shelves of a regular wooden bookcases. There was not a single glass cabinet in sign.

The mirror was gone as well. There was not a single reflective surface in sight, save for the window. Jekyll looked at the window glass, but the reflection showed nothing but his own startled face. A thought crossed his mind, and he rushed to the shelves to see if it was true.

He scanned through his vast collection of texts and found what he was looking for - a single plain notebook, hidden well between the other materials. Despite its shabby appearance, its contents were more valuable than anything else in this room. Jekyll opened the book.

It was empty.

His grandest invention, the alchemical compound which allows for a human soul to be split into half, was never made. And therefore...

Edward Hyde has never existed.