A/N: Continuation of the previous chapter.

He knew that he couldn't refuse to help her, not after what she'd said and what Hyde had done. Even if he could tell her Hyde was dead and mean it with all his heart… she would never be free of him. Not until she had heard a farewell from his own vile lips.

He knew that that farewell could cost him dear. But whatever price Hyde exacted he would just have to pay; he had to undo this one last piece of harm that the creature was wreaking. Lucy Harris was not well, and the cause was the trauma that had been visited upon her, and until the specter was put to rest there would be no cure.

He wrote a careful note to Hyde, impressing upon him the seriousness of the girl's situation, the blame, the solution. He made sure to describe her latest problem client in graphic detail; he knew Hyde would hate the idea of the girl harmed by any hand but his.

Harder than the note, though, was the drug. His stores were long gone. He'd destroyed every trace of the substance, every notebook that could have told someone how to make it again.

But of course he remembered. The formula and the procedure, as he'd originally conceived it, were seared into his mind. Later improvements, unfortunately, he was less certain about – he had developed them sleeplessly, in desperation, wracked with guilt and terror.

But he was stronger now, surer, patient and in full command of his faculties. It took some long nights in the lab, a great deal of glassware broken in frustration, but eventually, he had his success.

When the time finally came, he expected to take the drug in a mood of smothering dread. Instead – though he did fear – he felt the same deep curl of excitement in his belly, just like that first night. He told himself that he didn't miss it – that of course he could not miss it – and prepared just a small dose. Just enough to change him for a few hours. He knew, now, that if it truly came down to it, if he and Hyde truly fought… he was the stronger. He had been the stronger when he was sick and desperate and alone and Hyde was brimming with satanic confidence. Surely, their powers would be even more unequal now. Surely Hyde presented no threat at all.

He tried to pray, and failed, and gave himself the injection anyway.

Jekyll awoke sick and shaking, sore and weak and bathed in sweat - exactly the way he'd used to awaken after experimenting. After being Hyde.

He looked at the clock. Four hours had passed. As expected.

When he looked at the door, though, he got a surprise. The door was just locked with a key, not bolted the way Hyde preferred. That was odd because Hyde had been very consistent about that preference; he'd taken notes many times on the creature's powerful instinct for going to ground when it felt threatened.

How odd. And he hated not understanding. He dragged himself to his knees, using the bench for support. Once there he rested, leaning his forehead against the cool metal, laughing bitterly because of course this was where he ended up, again, the lab his God for all intents and purposes. How ridiculous of him to ever imagine otherwise.

When his stomach roiled a little less and his thoughts were a little more organized, he hauled himself up the rest of the way to his feet.

And then froze. The lab was... used. Not destroyed, not the way it had been after Hyde had had a tantrum, but clearly used and used well. Some of the vessels had been washed and were still drying, but his materials were all organized and there were six vials of blood-red solution corked and lined up neatly, along with five that were grey and one empty, on a fresh piece of paper.

The paper said, in Hyde's scrawl: "Inject yourself tonight just after dark. We do it my way or not at all."

He swore and rubbed at his headache. Almost immediately, though, he noticed something worse: one of his notebooks was lying out, with a pen.

Hyde had used his notebook. His hands shook as he flipped through the pages. It was deeply, unspeakably revolting. It was worse even than the time he had realized Hyde was using his toothbrush and clothing. That time it had been just his body that was defiled, but now... Hyde had polluted his mind. His work.

He took a moment to let his stomach settle. If he vomited over months' worth of notes and ruined them, he would never forgive himself.

When he was ready he found Hyde's entry and started to read. It was dated, neat, lucid... entirely an entry he might have written himself, except that the handwriting was wrong and he knew damn well that he had not written this.

The chemistry was new but not complicated. What Hyde had done, he saw at once, was develop a drug that would not wear off in the course of an evening, that would linger for days - perhaps longer - if not counteracted.

And he had developed what looked to be a working antidote. It wouldn't have been difficult; Jekyll had effectively developed it already. The difficult part had always been combining the two, ensuring that the drug would work and then, after an appropriate time had passed, yield to its opposite. All Hyde had had to do was separate the old formula into its two separate halves. "Fitting," he muttered to himself.

He hunted for the dirty syringe and examined the traces that were left behind. It was similar to his original solution... but it was not exactly the same. He checked the time, picked up his pen and started taking notes on his pulse and pupils. Like it or not, he was part of an experiment now.

Hyde awoke in the lab, as per usual. He rose to his full height, cracked his neck, and got more comfortable. Jekyll's stiff awful shoes removed in favor of comfortable (old, bloodstained) boots. Buttons at his throat and wrists ripped open. Hair unbound. Much better – if he didn't worry about drawing unwanted attention he'd prefer to roam the streets naked.

He made his way to the Rat. He was in no danger of fading away tonight; he could take as long as he liked… but he found he was too eager not to hurry. He arrived, strode in with purpose and took stock. A few of the girls knew him and kept their distance. A few others - new ones; turnover was quick - came up and tried for his interest. He pushed them away without anger and kept looking.

Spider was by his side almost immediately. "Mr. Hyde. We haven't seen you."

"Where's Lucy?"

The creature was smart enough not to waste any more time. "I'll get her," he said, and did just that even though she was clearly in the middle of entertaining someone else upstairs. When she was brought down and flung at his feet her clothes were in disarray and her makeup smeared.

"Hello, Lucy." It was a thrill talking to her, but he waited for the bigger thrill of her responding, of her cowering against him and stammering out his name.

But this time it did not come. "Hello, Mr. Hyde," she said, with what was almost confidence, and stood up on her own two feet. "I'm so glad to see you." She reached out, towards his face.

And he reacted as to a viper strike: dodged the contact and knocked it aside with a sharp blow from his stick. When she cried out and clutched at her wrist, he hit her again, in the side, to double her over. Then he took her by the hair and yanked her head around to look up at him. Now, now she was greeting him in the way he liked, flinching from his every movement, gasping with pain. "I'm glad to see you as well, my dear," he purred down at her. Without taking his eyes off her he addressed her owner. "I'll be taking her with me tonight – and I won't be bringing her back."

Lucy yelped No in a panic, and tried to pull away from him. Some of the other girls gasped. Spider, though, took the declaration in stride.

"Sir. You aren't the first who's developed a, say, special bond with one of my girls," he purred. "Developed a bond and tried to take her away from me." He was smiling. "Far be it from me to stand in the way of my girls' happiness, so, what we usually do in these situations is I let you take her – once you've settled up all her debts."

"Debts," Hyde echoed softly. "I see." The foulness, the lowness offended him. This was considered a true and full human being under God, while he, as Jekyll never tired of reminding him, never would be. "I will settle that here and now." He turned away, reaching into his pockets as he did so. After fumbling around a few moments, he faced Spider again – with both of his hands behind his back. "Now," he said, smiling. "In one hand I have all the money you could possibly want. In the other, I have a walking stick with which I can crack skulls with ease." He chuckled. "Speaking from experience. So, I will let you pick a hand, and I'll settle Lucy's debt with it, and either you'll leave here a rich man or pieces of your brain matter will be smeared across the floor and walls. How does that sound?"

Spider stared into his face a moment, considering. "Actually, I believe our Lucy's accounts are all settled up," he said at last. "Enjoy her – and when you're done with her I hope you'll come patronize us again. We have plenty of other fine girls for you to meet."

"I have all the girl I need," Hyde said, and pulled her out into the night.

At first they rode in silence; she didn't know what to say. Finally he spoke up. "I smell it on you," he said softly.

She was still rubbing her wrist where he'd hit it – hard, and for no reason. What had she been thinking, to try and touch his cheek? As if tenderness for Hyde made any sense!

"It? What it?" His eyes gleamed and suddenly she understood. "Oh. That's because I'm a whore, Mr. Hyde. A cheap, backdoor whore these days. So I'm sorry to disappoint you, if you were looking for something better, but-"

"Lucy." He let out a slow rumbling breath, then sat forward – towards her. She shrank back. "Be quiet." He put fingers under her chin and tipped her head up – gently. Gentleness from Hyde could be dangerous, she knew that, but when she looked into his face she saw no fire that concerned her. Only gentleness. "Don't you dare disparage my goddess," he said softly. "You are perfection, and I adore you."

"Um-. I." She was at a loss for words.

"Now." He smiled at her. The smile was familiar, but she couldn't place it, and before she could spend much time trying she had to focus on other things. "I owe you thanks, Lucy. You made enquiries about me, and they saved my life."

"Am I really leaving the Rat?" she burst out. "Because, because if I am, then you've saved my life too, and we're even, so-"

"I don't ever want you to set foot in there again," he said. He dug in his coat and produced more money than she had ever seen in her life. "Be a good girl and I'll take care of you. Get a room somewhere, and do not share it with any men. I am planning to come around and visit you every now and then, and I don't want to smell it on you when I do."

She stared at the bills. "I... don't understand. I mean I do but-... I don't-... I don't know how to thank you..."

"Yes you do. Come sit on my lap." He sat back and reached for his buttons. "All the way on my lap."

She knew without asking that she should also loosen her top and bare her shoulders. He licked his lips.

The End.

That's it for now. Let me know what you think!