The Glass Scientists micro-fanfictions

Awkward encounters

"I really don't like you." 

Really, Hyde should have expected as such. Not for any real reason other than a general consensus lead to people either being oddly fond of him or outright not being able to stand him, and both of which seemed equally bizarre to him. But laying face down on the ground, having misjudged a triumphant leap from a window and just outright stacking it, he had hoped that he might have found a more sympathetic soul. 
However a false sympathy would have probably bothered him a great deal more than the blunt sincerity that he won instead. 

"As you continue to remind me." Edward grumbled, lifting his head up just enough to be able to see the exasperatingly well-polished shoes of the man before him. He took a moment to lick cautiously at his lip to try and determine if his nose was bleeding from his fall, and when he was as sure as he could be that at that particular moment that his not was not, in fact, bloody, he flicked his head back the rest of the way in a cloud of ratty blond hair. "Go on, then, give me a hand up won't you? I'm not going to be grovelling at your feet or anything, if that's what you're waiting for." 

"I wouldn't need you to grovel to be reminded that you are below me, Mr. Hyde," came the reply of one Robert Lanyon, who was doing a remarkable job of acting like strange men flinging themselves out of windows to fall at his feet was a perfectly common occurrence, "And I do mean below in the most literal sense of the term, if you must know." Robert knew this was going to provoke his unwilling companion, and so made a point to labour just enough emphasis to make sure of it. 

"Fuck you, I am not that short!" Hyde, who understood the precise nuance that had been hidden in the other's words, exclaimed. 

In a flash of unthinking annoyance, the man hauled himself up to his feet with the intention of trying to loom over the other, even if he might need to go up on his tip toes to achieve this, to land himself a better position in the discussion. Intent and reality were too very different things. Now. at this moment, Hyde had only been, well, himself for a handful of moments and, on top of the usual unsteadiness that came from this, he had also shook himself around by having fallen out of a window. These factors combined meant it was a marvel he was able to do much of anything at all.
Rather than looming and getting the upper hand, he staggered gracelessly and crashed right into the other. On instinct, he clung to the man's arms - ignoring the shrill note of alarm that the doctor let out at the contact - before he managed to fall and, god forbid, take them both down. It would certainly make a point if he did, but not the point that he was wanting to make. 

"Good lord, man!" exclaimed the clearly less than pleased Lanyon, and when he moved to pluck the offending hands from his sleeves, as if he seemed to think they would tarnish the fabric, he shuddered an unrestrained shudder, "Your hands are like ice." 

"Is that your professional diagnosis then, is it?" Hyde replied with an over-compensatory snark to try and hide the fact that his breath had hitched just a little when the other's fingertips had trailed the back of his hand - damn you, and all your yearnings, Jekyll - even if it had not come with any particular kindness to it.

"It's like you're dead." was the reply that this won, and the surprise that came with this was not at all subtle.

"I am perfectly alive, thank you very much." came Hyde's slightly bewildered reply. There always was a lingering sort of not-quite-human about him, but fresh following a transformation always exaggerated this a little more still. Henry, if he was recalling the musings correctly after actively trying to distract from them, had concluded that the transformation was not the fully immediate process that he had once thought it was, but contained a gradual development of the 'self' beyond the erratic nature of the altering of cognitive functioning. 

"As you might claim," Robert returned, "But is that really an accurate definition? Are you really alright? We can't have someone He- Dr. Jekyll has expressed an interest in their wellbeing dropping dead on us, that would reflect dreadfully on us!" As he spoke this, the latter part of this compensating for something that he didn't realise the other would recognise, he brought a hand to the shorter man's forehead, brushing the mess of golden hair out of the way to do this more efficiently. In doing so, he had made it so he had a clear view of the other's face. The first completely clear look he had managed, the fellow's features often lost in his hair. This look brought a look of genuine confusion to the man's own face when he could have sworn he had seen something all too familiar in the neat stranger's face. 

"Blooming hell, man, of course I am alright!" Edward exclaimed, pulling back in a moment of panic when he realised that Lanyon had seen something - damned observant prick, did he have to look that hard? - that he shouldn't have.
The sheer force of this sudden retreat caused the other to stagger to keep his footing, and this was the exact opening that Hyde needed. He whirled about on the exaggerated heels of his boots and, before he could give anything else for Robert to make any more silly little conclusions from, he broke off into a sprint. He did not hear, or at least seem to hear the call for him to wait as he vanished into the welcomed waiting night, cursing his foolishness under his breath the whole while.