Chapter Text
Jekyll slams the door shut, groaning and clutching his forehead. He groggily walks over to his desk, throwing himself into his incredibly uncomfy chair. He could literally be dead and no one would know the difference. Perhaps he is. The only thing he can find comfort in right now is the beautiful melody of silence, floating gracefully through the air. God, he wants to melt away into that incredible sound, and to leave all his worries and responsibilities behind.
“‘Scuse me? Whaddaya think I’m for?”
And then he remembers he can’t.
Henry holds up a finger in whatever direction he hopes Edward is, and leaves it there, the message obvious: Shut up.
Naturally, Hyde is Hyde, and does not shut up.
“Nope! You go on’n’on ‘bout ma ‘inna monologues’, or wha’eva, an’ ya can’ seem to shu’ yaself up when I ain’ the one actively spewin’ narnsense!”
Drink. He needs a drink.
Glancing over at his desk, Jekyll notices a bottle of red wine on it — not that he remembered putting it there, but a drink’s a drink right?
Henry walks over and picks it up. There is a note tied around its neck with a piece of string. It reads: ‘Sorry I couldn’t be there to give it to you myself — Lanyon’. He turns it over, checking the quality. It’s the good kind, thank God.
“Oooh~ Looks like someone ‘as an admirer~” The blond taunts from behind the mirror, grinning mercilessly. Henry ignores him, instead filing through his cabinets for a glass.
Hyde rolls his eyes at the Doctor’s selective hearing, and lets his eyes wander back to the desk, latching onto the bottle.
Thinking back to the image Jekyll had in his mind when he was looking at the note, it certainly wasn’t in Lanyon’s handwriting, but it did seem to be typed. Does Robert have a typewriter? Edward doesn’t know, but it would make sense. If not Lanyon, then Everly, maybe, as her sex life seems to actually be growing strong, so perhaps for secret messages for lovers.
Anyway, ignoring the note, the actual contents of the bottle seem… weird. It looks like normal wine from the top to about three-quarters of the way down, but at the bottom, there’s these tiny pink dots floating around. Huh, odd. Maybe he should tell Henry about that.
Jekyll comes back with a glass and an uncorker, ready to open the bottle. Clearly he has not noticed anything wrong with it. He takes the cork out, places it on the side, and lifts it up, positioning it over his glass.
What does Hyde do?
Warn Jekyll about potential poison — It could kill him and Hyde!