The Glass Scientists micro-fanfictions

Interrupted Sympathies

The pittering and pattering of the rain drummed its gentle melody upon the roof, the softness of the rain coming far more calmly than the storm that the looming clouds and occasional gust of wind whispered promises of. It was almost reassuring, bringing with it the feeling that the very world itself had come to a stop, or perhaps it was just holding its breath as it waited to see what was yet to come. As far as the doctor was concerned, the former would be far more preferable, and yet the latter seemed to be the far more likely outcome.

A soft knock on the door drew Henry Jekyll from his thoughts, thankfully just in time to chase away the gloom that was beginning to darken his mind with startling swiftness and efficacy. He paused for just a moment, straightening his posture with an uncomfortable click, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his fists. He did not have any appointments, or other such arrangements that evening so he knew it was of vital importance to remain as presentable as he could possibly be, which was not nearly as presentable as he would want to be seen as.

"The door is open." he called to whosoever it was that happened to have found themself outside of his door in such miserable weather.

The person who had found themself outside of Dr. Jekyll's door was none other than one Rachel Pidgley, sniffling and looking utterly distraught. The tears that tumbled clumsily down her cheeks were altogether unchecked, and had this not alarm the man he would have given himself the chance to consider how undignified and unseemly such a display of emotions was. Even if he did not wave a hand to invite her to sit down, he could imagine she would have flung herself down with much the same theatrical force that she had exhibited regardless.

"Rachel?" the doctor asked, fighting against the alarm that came about due to the display of emotion he was not at all accustomed to seeing, "Whatever is the matter?" With the sort of caution that one would have approaching something dangerously fragile, he crouched down beside her, making sure he was not looming over her or leaving her feeling boxed in or anything else that would not help a frantically weeping individual.

"It-" she had attempted to begin, but her voice cracked in a heartbreaking sort of way, "It's just, that man you hired, Master Hyde," once more she had to pause, another round of sobs cutting off all hope of speaking, giving up when anything she attempted wound up as a hitching, shaking breath with the words themselves caught in her throat.

With little else to do when he could not fully determine what was necessary to console the poor woman, he busied his hands and his mind, moving away from where she had practically collapsed to instead fetch her a drink. He had heard that tea was good for settling the nerves, and while he had never thought too much into it but even if it was little more than a placebo, it was more than nothing. It was quite fortunate indeed that he had water boiling, although it was for different purposes, it would be a worthy sacrifice to make if it helped Rachel feel a little better.

By the time he returned, carefully cradling a cup of tea - he remembered how she liked it from times previous - which she took and rested it against her forehead, her temples beginning to throb painfully from the force of her sob. Her weeping had lessened significantly, but the man still kept an an eye on the cup as he could see the warm liquid moving ominously as she still shook with emotion.

"I miss my brother." said she, her voice little more than a whisper sounding just as he was planning on repeating his question. Her voice still cracked and did not sound at all reliable.

"Your brother?" echoed Henry, briefly noting that she had not spoken much about her family at all since they had met, and even once he offered her employment she was particularly private about her family, and so this admittance was quite a surprise.

"Mhm," Rachel offered gently, nodding awkwardly to accommodate her growing headache, "I didn't realise things had gotten so bad for him," she paused, her lip wobbling as she struggled against a flood of emotion that she had not even half dealt with, pausing to take a shaky sip of her drink, "I should have known, but now it's too late to make up for letting him down."

This hung in the air for a moment or so, the implications of this settling over the doctor like the rain outside. There very rarely was an occasion that the phrase 'now it's too late' came with pleasant intent. Having said this, she had resumed her sniffling, but she was evidently making an effort to not let her tears drip into the tea cup, as teary tea did not sound particularly enjoyable at all.

"Oh, Rachel," Henry exclaimed, offering her his hand, which she gratefully took with her free hand, squeezing him just a little too tightly to be comfortable, "I never knew..."

"Neither did I until there was nothing but a memorial to apologise to." She flinched at her own words.
All the feelings of having failed her youngest brother had come flooding back all at once when she had seen the strange little man that Henry had employed as an assistant. She had pushed back the feelings for just long enough for her to hurt all the more when it did resurface in her mind after stamping it away. Guilt, it was said, was like a shadow that would forever trail a person no matter how hard they tried to free themself, and evidently this was true in her case.

Before the doctor was able to say anything at all, there was another knock on the door, summoning him away. He wished he did not have to leave the woman in such a state, especially when she was beginning to open up to him, but as the first rumble of thunder roared overhead, Henry was barely even given a chance to promise his return as he was dragged away to complete some task or another.
By the time he was able to return, she had left, the teacup drained and left where she had been.