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Helena lifted the hem of
her dress as she hurried up the dark wood stairwell. After sending Emma
to bed, she'd returned to the drawing room
to finish her tea, and to write a letter to the druggist that had supplied
Dr. Jekyll with the chemicals he required to induce the transformations,
as well as
the antidote to these chemicals. Partway through the letter, however,
she found her eyelids growing quite heavy, and before she could catch herself
she
slipped into much needed slumber. She had awoken but a few moments
ago, glancing at the clock on the mantle piece with a start, unbelieving
that she
had slept nearly four hours and that all that time the doctor was left
unattended! So she carefully, yet quickly, climbed the stairs, her heart
beating quite
rapidly at the ceaseless possibilities of things that could have happened
to Henry while she was away. She made her way quietly past the guest room
where Emma had taken to sleeping, praying that his fever had not become
unruly, that he had not awakened, not moved . . .
The door of the bedroom was open
a crack and all was quiet inside. "Henry? Dr. Jekyll, are you awake?" Nervously,
she eased the door open,
the light from the hallway spreading across the room. It illuminated
the sleeping doctor, who lay splayed upon the bed, dreaming fitfully. "Oh
Dear!"
Helena whispered, seeing that Henry was now nearly resting on his chest,
and the bandages had been torn at. She moved instantly to the side of the
bed, checking his pulse. As she felt the weak thud of his blood moving
through his wrist, she also became sickeningly aware of the fact that his
hands
were streaked in blood, his fingernails sticky with ointment and bits
of cotton bandaging. Hastily, she lifted his leaden body as best she could,
resting
him back against his pillows quickly, she fixed the covers around him,
her body trembling in shock at the scene she had just witnessed. The wounds
on his chest were now exposed, more then half the bandages having been
ripped away by the doctors own hands, though there was no doubt in
Helena's mind who had been in control of those strong hands as the
bandages were aggravated. Quickly she went to the dresser, gathered several
supplies needed to redress the wounds in her arms and placed them on
the bedside table, dreading exposing his stitched chest yet again. She
sat next to
his body on the soft bed and brushed a few of his raven locks away
from his face, revealing his pale features. His brow was once again creased
in
pain, his breath shallow and wheezing in his lungs. "What have you
done to him, Hyde? How can you cause him such pain when he is the very
one
that gave you life? He is the one that sustains you, even now ... even
as you try to kill him, you kill yourself." She said softly but earnestly,
her delicate
hand resting on his cheek. Her fingertips tingled at the smooth, soft
feeling of his skin. He felt feverish again, and she rose to retrieve the
dampened
cloth, heartbroken at the thought of Emma's face, waking excitedly
to see her husband, only to find him in a more advanced weakened state.
"I have to stop him . . . " Jekyll
murmured, opening his eyes slightly. Helena jumped at the sound, turning
to see his cloudy eyes watching her
tiredly.
"Henry, your fever's returned."
She said quietly, simply. She came to him then, wiping his lips gently
with the moistened cloth, smoothing
his sweaty forehead as he closed his eyes, yielding to her caring gesture.
"How do you feel? You've . . . he's aggravated your wounds terribly, it
appears he's clawed at them . . . Henry, you've got to fight him, each
time he gains control he makes matters worse." She said, trying to present
the
problem gently.
"God knows I've tried, Helena."
He said rather irritably. She ignored his ungrateful attitude, knowing
that the pain and weakness was, no
doubt, increasing with every breath he took, having studied the tiredness
in his eyes.
"When did he did he-"
"I can't stop him anymore . . .
he has complete control of me, Helena ... it's best for me to slip away
while I can still bring him with me. There's
no point in fighting him, feeding his strength . . . you must leave
us both to die while there's still time." He said in a futile but firm
tone, reaching up a
shaking hand to remove the rest of the bandages himself . . .delicately
removing the tape from the reddened skin and tossing the gauze aside. Suddenly
terribly frightened and angry that Henry would give in to that monster,
Helena grabbed his arm, her soft grip still capable of controlling his
fatigued
actions.
"Henry, don't say such things!
You've fought to hard and too long to give up now . . . you're marriage,
your life . . . it can all be perfect, you
can have a second chance! All we have to do is figure out a way to
put him in his place." She said, still gently stroking his cheek with the
cloth, him
attempting to smile weakly at her kindness . . . "Don't worry about
anything but getting well, and convincing Emma how much you love her. I've
already begun to formulate a theory, perhaps we can separate you two
yet." She added, watching his eyes as she slowly took his hand in both
of hers,
squeezing it gently before standing to refresh the cloth in the basin
on the counter.
"He finds no greater joy then causing
me pain, Helena . . . even if it means hurting himself . . . how can we
possibly beat him at his own
game? I'll be dead by my own hand, and he'll be laughing . . . even
in Hell he'll laugh . . ." He moaned, his trembling voice sounding near
to tears . .
.
"Henry, he won't win . . . we can
stop him, there is a way . . . but it may be dangerous." She watched his
face for a moment, watching as his
eyes fell shut, and silently she hoped that sleep had taken him once
again. She sat by his side, watching the exhaustion etched in his strong
features,
and it was several minutes before he was able to continue.
"Tell me, Ms. St. Just . . . how
do you propose . . . we exterminate this rat?" His voice was much softer
then it had been, but the words were
still clear.
"Henry, your body is too weak to support both of you, which is why this internal struggle you fight is exhausting you both."
"But he isn't-"
"Yes he is . . . Hyde is just as
weak as you, Henry, I've seen him! His voice may be booming, but his will
is as depleted as yours . . . if we
can . . . eliminate . . . the strength you share, we can also do away
with him, but you must be the stronger." His eyes widened at this new theory,
him
seeing the truth in her statement almost immediately. Weakly, he tried
to sit upright, anxious to elaborate on this idea and compose a plan, but
she eased
him back against his pillow. "Not now, you must rest now . . . you'll
need your strength to keep him away from Emma. She'll be visiting Henry,
and
you have to ensure her you are fine . . . in order to execute this
plan we'll need her to leave us alone, and she won't stray from your side
unless she's
absolutely certain you're alright by yourself." He smiled weakly, thoughts
of his beautiful wife flashing behind his closed eyelids. Helena caught
a
glimpse of his brief sanctuary, and noticed how even the mention of
Emma could give him the strength to continue on. Without a sound she leaned
forward and stole a brief kiss from his forehead, wishing him the best
of dreams, but before sleep took him he spoke once more.
"Helena . . . before we begin .
. . I must tell you, I've seen the edge of this world before, I've teetered
on the edge . . . those days in the
darkness, and I may not . . . Helena if he prevails . . if I . . .
I am unable to return victorious, I want you to let us die. I do not want
him to live on in
this body, is that perfectly clear?" He said, with more strength and
conviction then he had been able to muster thus far. She nodded, hoping
she would
never have to bring herself to watch him die.
"I understand, Dr. Jekyll, you
have my word." She took his hand in hers once again, squeezing it firmly,
him squeezing gently in return.
"Rest now. Please, Henry . . . we have plenty of time to complete our
stratagem. I've already contacted your apothecary and secured the necessary
chemicals, as soon as you're strong enough we can begin." She glanced
down at his relaxed face to discover her last words had been lost to his
slumber, and she knew that this was truly what he needed at the moment.
She sighed, and placed his arm gently at his side, beginning once again
to
repair the bandages on his chest, thankful that he would be spared
this pain. If only he could be spared that voice . . . his voice, ringing
in his head,
threatening his very existence, causing the most pain of all . . .