The Glass Scientists micro-fanfictions

More Mistakes Made

"Henry? Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, of course, you needn't worry yourself over me."

A painted smile, the perfect mask of everything that he knew he should be. As long as his smile seemed to be warm and genuine enough to not raise questions, it could not matter less that it was all a right pack of lies and not a scrap of the smile even remotely reached his eyes.

No, he wasn't alright, not even slightly.
His jaw had begun to ache something fierce from his attempts at remaining pleasantly quiet, his teeth clenched so hard it was a marvel his teeth had not yet begun to splinter under the force he was subjecting them to. Even a single peep would give him away and it would virtually be game over for him. No, Henry could simply not let on that he was in a state of quite extreme discomfort that he was very much aware of, regardless of how much effort he tried to go to in order to ignore his less than ideal situation.
In fact, even extreme discomfort was an under-exaggeration of his predicament, but if he could convince himself that it really was nothing more than a discomfort then there was nothing he needed to be concerned about.

As he shuffled his position, one hand resting in a faux display of comfort upon the table, the other slipping subtly under the table to gingerly brush against his abdomen, he cocked his head delicately to one side.
"Really, Robert," he insisted, noting the skepticism plain as the day upon the face of the man that sat so very close to him across the other side of the table, "There really is no need  for you to worry, I'm right as rain and you're worrying far too much!"

"No," the other returned, an audible note of concern causing his voice to waver in a way that was less than dignified, but he didn't think to chase it away, as they were the only two in the room and he needed to have his words be heard with no interruptions, "No, I don't think I am! I'm worrying quite the right amount, if anything I'm not worrying enough!"
Henry went to speak, but Robert raised a hand, quickly cutting off the other's inevitable objection.
"I've heard what the others were saying, Henry, and it isn't good. Archer said he heard you come stumbling in at all hours of the night last night, lord only knows what you were doing at such an ungodly hour, and if that wasn't concerning enough, Maijabi said he heard you howling like a banshee after you locked your door, and out of anyone he would know what he's saying with his comparison!" The man had to pause, take a deep breath as he had been getting heated and as a result had forgotten to breath in the process. "And do you know what Pennebrygg said he saw on the door handle to your study when he passed by this morning?" he asked, but before he let the man reply to this, he replied to his own question, "Blood. Blood is what he found, presumably yours, god forbid it is was that of another!"

"Robert, I-" Jekyll began, his brows furrowed against an inner turmoil that he would rather like to avoid brewing if he could avoid it.

"Is this another excuse?"

"No," he replied, his lie sounding earnest, reaching a hand out and clasped the other's hand, comforting, reassuring, and as he hoped it would, making his lies seem more believable with a play on the emotions of the man he was wanting to have trust his every word without a scrap of doubt, "Although I cannot tell you what happened, I can assure you that I really am alright. If things were as you seem to think, I would tell you for I would never lie to you about matters of such grave significance," he lied, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of the other man's hand, "You can put your concerns to bed, Robert, you can trust me."

Any responses that Lanyon might have had to this died in his throat, the man he was so very concerned about locking eyes with him. He had known him for years upon years and yet he still could never tell what lurked behind the maroon - Maroon? Had they always been maroon? Surely they had been brown? - eyes, as if he was looking into a pool of water in the sunlight, there surely being something behind it but all there was that could be seen was what it was reflecting back.
"Yes, I trust you." said he, sounding as if he had never been more certain of anything in his entire life.

"Thank you, Robert," he returned, drawing the other's hand up to his lips, "Thank you." he murmured into the back of his hand in a way that he knew would make the man blush, the worries blanking out of his mind in the most purposeful manner.

The prolonged moment lasted so very long, yet had only been a mere cluster of ticks of the second hand of the clock, but as all good moments had to, it had to come to an end.

"Promise me this, Henry, promise me that you will look after yourself."

"I will." came the response of perfect lies, "Farewell, I hope I shall be able to see you later this evening.

The farewells were echoed back to him, a touch of regretfulness in this, not wanting to have to leave even if they both knew that he had to depart for the time being. To speak and smile and draw favours and interest in ensuring the longevity of The Society.

When alone, Jekyll let out a soft, pained groan. The hand that had been resting on his belly curling up tight and coming away horribly wet. His breath hitched and cursed on the name Hyde slipped through his lips in a stream that seemed to be endless.

He still could not believe that Hyde had gone and gotten themself stabbed in the gut the night before, and then left him to deal with the result.