Hello, It's Mrs. Hyde

Chapter 16: Prisoners and Promises

The lock clicked, the cell door groaned open.
Emma Swan stepped inside with her arms crossed, her sheriff's badge glinting faintly in the low light. Her face was unreadable — cool, impassive, but her steps were heavy with irritation.
Hyde didn't turn from the small window he stood near, his shackled hands resting on the sill like a man surveying a kingdom he could no longer touch.
"I thought you'd come" he said without looking. "Smart girl."
Emma kept her tone dry. "Keep calling me 'girl' and see how that works out for you."
Still, he didn't turn. "Remove these chains and see how that works out for you."
Emma stepped closer, boots quiet on the concrete. "You said you knew what was happening to me. Prove it."
That made him turn.
Hyde smiled faintly. "Emmaaa.. you know how this works."
She folded her arms tighter. "You're stalling."
"You were a prisoner once," he said, walking slowly to the bench and sitting down with eerie calm. " A prisoner only responds to sticks or carrots. And you've brought neither."
Emma lifted a brow. "No? Not even this lovely conversation?"
Hyde chuckled once. "Next time bring a bottle of Syrah, two glasses. And an audience with my assistant."
Emma's jaw tensed.
"I think she's going to need a lot more than wine to step foot in here again."
Something flickered behind Hyde's eyes. He looked away quickly.
"She was loyal to you, Hyde" Emma continued. "And you tossed her aside like she meant nothing. Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, but where I come from... people don't just throw away the light in their life ."
Hyde scoffed. "Is this where you tell me I'm missing the greatest love story never told?"
Emma's voice dropped — quiet but sharp. "No. But maybe you're passing up the greatest light you've ever had. And you're doing it  intentionally."
That hit him. She saw it. His breath caught — just once.
He masked it behind a sneer. "Are you writing a romance novel? Are we the main characters?"
Emma didn't take the bait.
"You can't help me," she said, shaking her head. "You're just wasting my time."
She turned to leave.
"i know about the battle. The one in your mind's eye" Hyde said suddenly.
Emma froze.
She turned back. "What?"
Hyde looked up from the floor, eyes meeting hers with a glint of something— not sympathy, not quite empathy. Understanding. And amusement.
"I'm sorry, I thought you were just leaving."
Emma hesitated — just a heartbeat — before walking back toward the cot and sitting down beside him.
"You're right. I was a prisoner," she admitted. "The worst part was the loneliness. It sucked."
Hyde didn't respond, but his eyes flicked toward her sideways. He knew what she was trying to do.
"So here's what's gonna happen," Emma said. "Either you talk, or there won't be anymore visits or Syrah or conversation. I just won't come back. I'll make sure Jessica doesn't come back either."
Emma stood up as she took a few steps to the door while Hyde glared at her
"You can just say here alone and..."
Emma's eyes flickered up to Hyde's with something so bitter and cold in her eyes it made Hyde smirk
"Rot"
She let the next part hang. Hyde smirked at her
"I've been alone before Miss Swann. Amusing however that you think my assistant's absence would-"
"You know what, I might even hand her over to Jekyll. After all, she did help you get here didn't she? Help attack my friends and parents. And he's so keen on finding her."
Hyde's head whipped toward her so fast she flinched — just a little.
Emma mentally noted the fear flickering in his eyes at that
His tone dropped to something quiet and dangerous. "So you did bring a stick."
Emma didn't move.
Hyde stood, chains clinking, eyes locked on hers.
"Aside from me. I implore you to keep Jekyll far away from Jessica. You wouldn't hurt me," he said. "You would break her."
The silence that followed was loaded.
Emma blinked once, surprised at the certainty in his voice.
"I actually believe you," she said softly.
Hyde exhaled, slowly returning to his cot.
"Not to worry, Emma. I brought someone here," he said. "Someone who can help you. All you need to do is follow the red bird."
Emma squinted. "The red bird? That's cryptic."
Hyde smirked and pulled a folded parchment from under the cot. "You'll get the answers you so seek. In exchange for this, I request that you give this to Jessica at once."
Emma took the parchment and unfolded it — a map. Scorched at the edges. Magical.
"A map to some temple?"
Emma asked confused. Hyde's smirk deepened
"The temple of Morpheus. Said to enter any dream of the person who can't wake up"
Hyde shrugged with little interest
Emma's brow's raised in shock
"This is how you got Rumplestiltskin to bring you all over isn't it"
Emma stayed more factually than a question
"Jessica still has the box, and now that we're here in Storybrooke.." Hyde hesitated before he added.
"Rumplestiltskin wants his end of the deal. And, well, with me here, Jessica upset with me and unaware I need the box, I can't say I know what he'll do to get it."
Emma looked up from the map. "Then I'll go now."
She turned to leave.
"Wait."
She stopped.
Hyde's expression was unreadable. His voice dropped into something low and sincere. "Give me your word."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "My word?"
"Your word that you'll make sure no harm will come to Jessica by Jekyll."
She stared at him incredulously.

Emma stood near the door, map in hand, but her eyes hadn't left him.
"I thought you didn't care what happens to her," she said evenly.
Hyde didn't move.
His voice was low, rough around the edges. "You have no idea what Jekyll is truly capable of. But you will." He looked back toward the window, his tone harder now. "And I do hope it doesn't come at my assistant's expense."
Emma let the silence hang, eyes narrowing slightly. "Right. And that's why you're in here playing the martyr instead of actually protecting her."
Hyde's fingers curled subtly at his sides.
Emma considered him for a moment longer, then tucked the map into her coat. "I'll make sure she gets this,and I'll find a way to keep her away from Jekyll" she said. "But keep in mind Hyde—she quit on you. She's not coming back."
Hyde's head turned.
Fast.
The chains groaned as he snapped toward her, shadows chasing him across the cell.
"Don't presume to know anything about me," he growled.
Emma slightly flinched and her hand began to tremble tremendously as her back hit the cell door.
  "So you are afraid of me"
Hyde smirked down at her, just out of reach from choking the life out of her annoying voice.
Emma glared and controlled her shaking hand until it calmed down
"No. I know what I saw. You broke someone who was willing to bleed for you."
Hyde laughed — dry and bitter. "She already has Miss Swann. That's the point!"
Emma took a step forward, her voice rising with purpose now. "So what? She suffered and clearly became stronger from it. If what you say about Doctor Jekyll is true, now you're gonna punish her for it? Is that part of your grand plan too?"
Hyde's jaw clenched. "I'm keeping her safe."
"No," Emma snapped. "You're keeping yourself safe."
He opened his mouth to retort, but Emma was faster.
"You think she's not screwed up right now? That that dead look in her eyes is protection? You didn't spare her pain Hyde — you just added to it."
Hyde faltered. Just a breath. But she saw it.
A crack in the armor.
Emma pressed.
"If you think leaving her to face Jekyll alone is the way to protect her, then maybe you're not the man she thought you were. And maybe that scares the hell out of you..thanks for the tip"
Hyde said nothing — but something in his expression darkened, twisted. He turned away, shoulders squared to the window again, like looking at her any longer might break him.
Emma exhaled sharply, disgusted and disappointed in equal measure.
"Enjoy your silence, Warden."
She turned on her heel and stormed out, the heavy cell door slamming shut behind her.
Hyde didn't move.
But his hand — slowly, almost imperceptibly — reached up to the window ledge, gripping it until his knuckles whitened.

Hyde stood alone in his cell, his chained hands wrapped tightly around the cold iron bars of the window. The sky outside was violet now, stained with the last light of day. He didn't look away. Not even when the ache in his fingers deepened.
"It's what's best for her," he muttered to the dusk. "Someone has to do what's best for her."
His grip tightened, the metal biting into his palms.
"She can't end up like Mary Ellen..."
The name lingered in the air like the ghost it was. He hadn't said it aloud in years.
"There's too much fire in you," he murmured. "Too much life to live.. My little doe."
His eyes softened—just briefly—then darkened again as he scanned the horizon, as if searching for a flash of red in the distance. He let himself wonder if he was on her mind in the way she was his.
"Did you make it home, little doe?" he asked quietly.
The cell remained silent.
So did he.