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Harvey stared up at the Lovelace Manor, his hand poised to knock. If he were to ponder it, he’d be hard-pressed to remember a time in which he could look up at the building without a looming sense of dread. He didn’t remember much of what had gone down in the house after Hyde had taken over,
“Which I so wish you’d gotten to see it. Not my best work, but hey, your father's bones weren’t as springy as yours.”
Harvey shook his head as if doing so would cause Hyde to fall out his ear, like water from a stream after swimming in it. He rolled his eyes at Hyde’s menacing chuckle and knocked. The door opened to reveal Mrs. Hale, and his shoulders sagged in relief. She just stood there, looking at him, eyes wide.
“She doesn’t know if it’s me or you, ohh, isn’t that precious.”
He tried not to wince at Hyde’s snarl. Instead, he rubbed his neck, avoiding eye contact with her, lest there be fear staring back at him. “It’s um, it’s-”
“Harvey!” Mrs. Hale burst forward, throwing her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. He startled, feeling his eyes get hot at the blatant affection. With a small sniffle, he wrapped his arms around her, just as tightly.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what he did, or if he hurt you, I didn’t, it wasn’t me but, I’m so sorry.” He tried to keep himself from just breaking down there at the front door. She patted his back, drawing back to take a proper look at him.
“I know, Harvey, I know it wasn’t. He didn’t hurt me,” she assured him. “But enough about me, look at you, I’ve never seen you look quite so peaky, and that’s saying something.” He chuckled, pulling back as well.
“I didn’t eat much on the train,” he explained.
“We could have eaten a good deal more had you not been such a bleeding coward,” Hyde sneered.
Harvey felt his neck twitch, but he focused on the new weight of the cuffs and collar, and the twinge retreated back to its green-eyed monster. They protected him now, he didn’t have to respond.
“Well, in that case, I’ll put on a nice big pot of stew for you, love, and I’ll let your mother know you’ve come home in one piece.” She beckoned him inside, and he gladly followed.
He left that stupid bloody rope outside, and he walked slowly into the drawing-room. It was odd. That cold feeling, the feeling of being caged in by the walls, was still there, and he didn’t think it’d ever leave him as long as these walls stood. However, there was an odd comfort in the literal shackles that now stowed the danger away in the back of his brain. There would be no held breaths, no tears, he wouldn’t collapse to the ground after intense emotions.
Harvey padded over to the sofa, sinking into the plush seat. He had half a mind to take a nap right then and there until his mother could come down. He listened to Mrs. Hale’s footsteps, quick and light as she fluttered down the hall and out of earshot. For a while, the only thing he could hear was the birds. The crows that circled Lovelace manor like a murderous fairy ring that never seemed to leave.
“Murderous, hm? Quite an interesting word choice from innocent little Harvey. Unless of course, you aren’t that innocent after all.”
He’d promised to send letters soon, and of course, everyone was still going to meet up for Bonnie’s birthday if they could(Which he still had no clue what to get her. He knew what she needed, but had no clue what she wanted, and you can’t really give someone a nap as a birthday gift), but for now, he was intent on getting used to his house, his home, once more.
A set of soft, more hurried than usual, but ultimately familiar footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and he sprung up from the sofa to meet his mother.
“Harvey?!”
“Mum!”
“Oh, that’s just...loathsome.”
He sprinted towards her, leaving the drawing-room entirely and landing at the bottom of the staircase, which she was already halfway down.
He felt his eyes get hot again as he waited for her to reach the bottom of the stairs. She scooped up her skirts and hurried to the ground floor, enveloping her son in her arms as soon as her foot touched the carpet.
“My darling boy,” she said in a hushed tone, one reserved solely for his homecomings.
“Hi, mum.” He wrapped his arms around her, letting her presence wash over him, like hot tea on a cold night. He bit back a sob of relief, burying his face in her shoulder. “I don’t have anything for you this time, I’m sorry,” he tried to joke. Clara chuckled, carding her fingers through his hair like she had when he was little.
“Oh Harvey,” she cooed. “You’re home; you’re here, that’s better than any treasure anyone could bring me.” She kissed his cheek, over the scars. Harvey smiled at her, trying to keep his lip from trembling.
“Did… Did he hurt you?” He pulled back from her embrace and scanned his mother’s face for any bruises, any scabs on her hands, a broken nail. All that he was met with were dark circles and a slight tremble that matched his own. She squeezed his hands, smiling sadly.
“No more than he already has.”
“That’s not a no. I could rip her to pieces, Harvey. Not much left to break, but it’d be fun.”
Harvey bit his lip, trying to ignore Hyde.
“Mum, please. If, if he… If I hurt you-”
“Harvey, no, no absolutely not.” She gently grasped his face. “You did no such thing. Neither did he. I think he was more focused on leaving the house,” she hastily explained, her eyes welling up. “I’m okay. We’re all okay.”
Harvey hadn’t even realized how tightly he’d been holding himself until he wasn’t anymore. Clara stroked his cheek with a smile, swallowing back her own tears.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, moving his hands to hold hers. She smiled and shook her head.
“None of that now. You’re here, and he’s being kept at bay, that’s what’s important.” She moved their hands down. “You have some very good friends, Darling.”
“... Yeah. I really do.” He looked past his mother, up the staircase. “Bonnie… Bonnie said He’s okay now?” Clara followed his gaze, standing to the side. She nodded, squeezing his hand once more.
“Yes, he’s okay. Frail, still recovering, but he’s himself again.” There was a light in her eyes that Harvey hadn’t seen since he was a child, a smile that was finally allowed to see the sun again. She turned to him. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, dear.”
“Ooh yes, let’s go see him. I’m sure he’s so proud of his little fuck-up. So proud of the coward you’ve become.”
Harvey gritted his teeth and shook his head. “No… I need to see him.”
“...Alright.” Clara let go of his hand, starting to head up the stairs. He took a deep breath and followed her up.
The walk down the hall to His room was so familiar, so simple. He knew that Hyde was in his own head now, not his father's. He knew that.
So why did it feel like he was headed to the gallows?
Harvey’s shoes felt like lead as he dragged himself down the corridor, all the way to the end of the hall until he stood before the door.
Looking back, he didn't remember the details of what happened next. Just that one moment, he was staring at the door with Clara, and the next, he was keeled over on the floor, gripping his head between his hands.
“Come on now Harvey, let me talk to him since you can’t manage it. I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes you’re gone. Just. Let. Go.”
His head pounded and his eyes ached as pain, mountains upon mountains of pain shot through his body.
He knew this pain. It was the same pain he’d felt the night he’d met Hyde when he’d made such a horrible mistake in drinking that god-awful concoction.
"All you have to do is take off the chains Harvey, and I'll take the wheel. I can make it stop."
“Harvey?” Clara knelt in front of him, hands on his shoulders. “Darling what is it, what’s wrong?”
“It’s him, ‘s Hyde, he’s tryna break through. I-I can’t, I can’t do this,” he spoke between harsh breaths. Oh, hyperventilation, that was what was happening. He heard something crash but paid it no mind. He felt the thud of footsteps, loud and clumsy against the floor but he paid them no mind. He saw his mother’s hands come off him but he paid them no mind; everything hurt and he couldn’t fucking breathe.
“Let me take the helm, Harvey. Leave that pesky breathing bit to me, and you can fall right back into the dark. No more worries, no more anxiety. No more Loveless Lovelace.”
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he screamed back out loud, in some vain attempt to get Hyde to just listen. To shut up, to go away, to listen, to leave him alone, to go, go go go gogogogo-
…Ouch
In an odd moment, he simultaneously regained awareness and started to lose it. A fog slowly traveled through his limbs, lining them with something heavy(Zinc maybe? Or was Zinc light? He tried to remember if there was any zinc in Faelynn’s guns or Bonnie’s inventions. Maybe they were in the shackles, to keep Hyde away longer).
His hands dropped from his head, and his shoulders sagged. His eyelids fluttered open and closed several times. He felt himself fall, but not into the void like Hyde had taunted him with, but a pair of arms that were a little bony, but warm all the same. The last thing he could make out was a pair of hazel eyes, regarding him with concern and guilt.
Harvey woke to the sound of a ticking clock, and the feel of something tight around his wrists and ankles.
“ Well, that was fun.”
He winced as Hyde’s voice rang in his ears again, half expecting the pain from earlier to return. Thankfully, nothing, just the tight feeling around his appendages.
“Normally I like to take the more dominant approach, but seeing your dear old dad’s face just, crumple like that, now that was well worth pretending to be you again.”
“Harvey?”
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Harvey, is it you?”
He carefully turned his head to face his fears.
Henry Lovelace looked back at him.
“Hello, father.”
Henry winced at the formality but didn’t rebuke it. Nothing but concern, guilt, and something else that Harvey almost couldn’t put a finger on, radiated from him. So those had been the eyes he’d seen before he passed out.
“I… I’m sorry about the binds.”
“No, it’s uh, it’s okay. He… He came out again, didn’t he?”
“...Yes.”
“I… I’m sorry for whatever it is he said.” Harvey avoided eye contact with his father, staring at the ceiling instead.
“I think I should be the one saying that,” Henry replied softly. Harvey shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“It wasn’t, it was never you, it was just him-”
“That’s still no excuse.” Henry slowly got up and started undoing the cloth binds. How those had held Hyde, Harvey had no clue.
"Oh, I had no intention of leaving, though I could've if I wanted. It was just more fun to remind him of what he's done. What she let happen. What you-"
Hyde's voice was suddenly drowned out by mental alarms as Henry's hand brushed Harvey's. Upon realizing he was free to move, Harvey bolted up and pulled himself closer to the headboard, his head throbbing at the movement. He winced at the pain, rubbing his temples.
His father frowned in that certain way he used to frown when Harvey and his brothers hurt themselves. When he'd asked his mother why Henry frowned like that, way back when, she'd said it was the doctor in him battling the father in him, deciding if he should comfort or cure. Harvey was relieved to see the need to cure win out. He wasn't sure he could have handled any close comfort from Him right now.
“You were running a fever earlier, but it’s gone down a bit, so not too much cause for concern. How’s your head?” Harvey shrugged, wincing a bit at an ache that spread through his shoulder.
“ ‘S alright, aches a little…Did you sedate me?” He wanted to poke at the shoulder, but he felt as though his hands would shatter if they moved.
"You're so much stronger than you realize, Harvey. Smart, too. All that knowledge of humanoid anatomy? Just imagine what we could do if we worked together. I'm sure Hank here has thought of some examples. Probably why he put you to sleep before we could find out. He knows you're dangerous."
Harvey shuddered, trying not to imagine exactly what Hyde could do, or remember what he had done.
Henry nodded, looking more than a little guilty about the sedation, only adding to Harvey's anxiety. If he'd been smarter, better, he could've spared anyone from having to deal with him. “Unfortunately, yes. I’d made some in the past, hoping to use them on myself, but… You were screaming, and you… You’re shaking.” He hesitated, sitting closer to his son. Now that he mentioned it, Harvey felt his arms trembling, along with his chest. Breathing had gotten hard again, but Hyde wasn't gloating.
“I-I think it’s just me, not him, I, I’m sorry,” he stammered, keeping his head down, which was starting to ache again.
“I know, it’s okay,” Henry replied easily.
“I messed up, I-I made a huge mistake and I hurt Faelynn and, and Bonnie and Vidia” Harvey choked out, rapidly bringing a hand to his mouth as his stomach revolted against him. “I think I’m gonna vomit.”
“Harvey, listen to me.” Henry’s words were firm but his voice was soft. “You’re having an anxiety attack, so I’m going to ask you to do a few things. One, most importantly, I need you to breathe, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Can you do that?” Henry was next to him now, hands nowhere near his son.
Harvey nodded, slowly lowering his hand as he sucked air into his lungs, trying to get himself to an even pace. “Good, good,” Henry’s voice broke through the fog. “Secondly, if you still feel the need to vomit, there’s a basin on the side table, along with some water.” Harvey just nodded along, still feeling himself shaking. He could feel that fever now, too.
"I… I feel fuzzy,” he tried to verbalize the silent fog that made his eyelids heavy, and the high-strung puppet strings that made his muscles tense in such a way that no longer felt like he’d shatter, but definitely fall over if someone tapped him.
“That’s perfectly natural. I’d be concerned if you weren’t a little disoriented after what you’ve gone through,” Henry assured him, taking the jug of water and pouring it into a glass.
Only half paying attention, Harvey just focused on breathing. His chest hurt less now, and he closed his eyes, focusing. It took more effort than he would have liked, but eventually, it didn’t feel like he was breathing through mud.
After a good minute or so in quiet darkness, he opened his eyes again. Henry was still next to him, though not quite as close, with two glasses full of water. He held one out to his son, wordlessly, offering a small smile. “Third and final thing, sip, don’t gulp, we don’t want you to actually vomit.”
Harvey awkwardly accepted and sipped it silently, avoiding eye contact. Henry did the same. For a while, they just sat in silence, and the rest of the house did too. The birds, the wind, the typical house sounds, all silent. Not even Hyde interrupted them.
Finally, Henry spoke up, clearing his throat.
"Feeling better?"
"... Yeah. Thanks." Harvey nodded, putting down his glass. “Was it like this, when I… When he left you?”
“... Yes. Not quite as violent, since his influence was gone entirely, but yes. Your mother and Mrs. Hale took pity on me and made sure I didn’t die on the floor,” Henry replied shamefully. Harvey frowned at that.
“Mum loves you. She didn’t, it wasn’t pity; she loves you, she’d do anything for you, she could’ve let you hang, and, and you…” He didn’t like the idea of his mother only helping Henry out of pity, not when she’d stayed in the same house as Hyde for years and years, endured so much, for the man she loved. Harvey clenched his fists, trying to regain control.
“No, no, continue. Let him have it, Harvey, let him have it all.”
“Shut uuup,” Harvey groaned, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.
“He’s taunting you, isn’t he?” Henry spoke up.
“He’s just so loud, " he sighed, grinding the heel of his palm into his forehead. "And so contradictory! One moment he'll say I'm strong and capable of these horrible, horrible things, and then-"
"The next he calls you weak and incompetent," Henry finished, nodding in understanding. Harvey hesitated. Part of what had made Hyde so terrifying was the isolation, that nobody would know just how bad he was, but here he was, sitting with possibly the only other person who knew exactly what he was going through.
"... Yeah. Exactly like that." He nodded. Henry bit his lip, looking down at his lap.
“Harvey, I’m so, so sorry, for everything that happened to you, and your mother, at his hands, at my hands. I… I was weak, and what came of my weakness was unforgivable.” He looked up once more, and for the first time, Harvey saw how small of a man his father really was.
Henry Lovelace sat meekly and offered apologies where Henry Jekyll, no, Hyde, had stood menacingly and doled out naught but pain.
Harvey bit his lip, trying to reconcile the two images in his head. All of his instincts were screaming at him to just cooperate, just wait it out until he was gone, or to run while he still had the chance.
But there was nothing to run from, nothing to wait out. The floor was his.
“I… I don’t…” He took a breath. Time seemed to slow down as he considered his options.
He could get this over with quickly, tell Henry that it wasn’t him, really, so all was forgiven, right? Then he could take a nap in peace and wait until he could get out of the house and see his friends. That was the safe way to go, the quickest, most painless way to go, to just run from this and leave it alone forever…
But what would he be running from? The danger wasn’t in this house anymore, it was in his head. He couldn’t run away from Hyde.
He thought about all the things that could have been avoided if Henry hadn’t made that stupid elixir. Everything he’d ever wanted to say to him, to yell until he couldn’t yell anymore, he could say that now. Yelling would get him nowhere, but damn if he didn’t have something to say.
“You’re right. I don’t think I can forgive you. I’m sorry, but I can’t. You murdered people and made us leave home, you committed arson. You put mum in danger and she was miserable and scared all the time, and Faelynn’s mum is dead and she thought it was her fault, and everyone in her family thought it was her fault, you hurt her…” His fingers drifted along the scar on his chin, afraid to dance up to the other two. “You hurt me... Even if it wasn’t you, you hurt them, and you hurt me…” He clenched his fist, then let it go. Now came the hard part. “But… You spent lots of time with, with Him. Bonnie’s offered to help, and she has, but, I don’t wanna make her do this alone. I’ll need help again like it was today. He’s loud and obnoxious and it hurts when he takes over. And, and you know that.” He turned towards Henry. “‘Sides, ‘enemy of the enemy is my friend’ right?”
“The enemy? Oh don’t turn me into that, Harvey, I can only work with what you give me. I do what you’re capable of. You’re just too much of a ninny to see it through.”
Harvey did his best to ignore Hyde’s words and focused on Henry’s expression. The man looked incredibly relieved, for someone who’d just been told he’d never be forgiven. Maybe it was easy to know others wouldn’t forgive you when you couldn’t forgive yourself. He gulped and picked up the glass once more, hoping that having something to hold would keep his hands from shaking.
“You’re still my father, and really the only one who knows what this is like. I can’t forgive you, but I can work with you,” he offered in a matter-of-fact tone. “Not right now, cause I still feel like I might throw up, but later.” Henry gave a small smile and nodded.
“I think I can live with that arrangement,” he replied. “When you’re feeling better, I’d be more than willing to do whatever I can to help.” He stood up, putting his glass on the bedside table, and settled his hand on a cane Harvey hadn’t noticed was there. “For now, get some rest. I’ll be here when you need me.” He made his way towards the door.
“G’night... dad.” Instinctually, Harvey clamped a hand over his mouth. Hyde, while impersonating Henry, had always made it seem like Henry hated any casual title, casual conversation. But, when Henry paused and turned around, he just smiled sadly back.
“Good night, son.” Without another word, Dr. Henry Lovelace walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Harvey sighed in relief, letting go of any extra tension he’d been holding. He looked around, now realizing he was in his bedroom and wondered how he’d missed that. The birds were cawing again, and the sound of Henry’s cane accompanied, clumsy footsteps comforted him to a degree he didn’t think possible.
For a while, he nursed his glass of water, until he was struck by the restlessness that came from being in Lovelace manor. He strode over to his desk, picked up a pencil, and started writing.
Dear Faelynn,
I met my father today.