Hypocrites: Jekyll and Hyde x Reader

Behind the Facade

With deep inhales, I attempted to take as much air as I could with what little my nose could take. My lips were still trapped shut by their grip as my vision began to clear. I could feel my heartbeat stabilize, my breath becoming ragged as the hand finally pulled away. Nearly falling to the floor, a soft yelp could be heard from my attempted killer and victim as she caught me.

With no energy at all, I could only lean my temple on her shoulder, wincing as it hit my previous wound but too drained to adjust. With shallow breath and barely furrowed brows, all I could make out was a pained comment, "Your methods are completely unconventional."

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Your POV

If anyone's heart was beating quickly now, it was yours. Sweat trickling down your face, you felt warm puffs of air hit your neck as the doctor leaned on you, completely gone after his panic attack. Hell, it might as well have been a heart attack. You allowed the closeness for now, unwilling to let someone just collapse on the floor after you already did.

Body sore from landing on the hard ground, you cursed how weak you were that you could only fall to get to Jekyll. A moment passes before you feel pins and needles prick your legs from the uncomfortable position. As gently as you could, you push the body to now rest against the bed. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as you did, you would've been offended had you not seen the red splotch on his bandaged forehead. You internally hiss in the pain you imagined he'd felt.

It was silent for a while, neither of you with any power left to speak. The panic must have gotten to the both of you as his criticism only registered a few seconds later. Completely sinking in, it was as if a new surge of energy filled you.

"I'm sorry, I should have had you vomit instead," you quipped, ignoring how unconventional that method was as well. He had no such energy renewal as he could only exhale a chuckle to acknowledge your petty words.

Wasting no time, you continued, "I know you heard him." You stated it as fact, finding no reason to confirm it, his panic proof enough to you.

He stayed silent, no longer looking your way as he shut his eyes. His hair was disheveled, clothes a mess from the frantic jitters. It looked like hell no matter how you put it. For a moment you considered letting it go and just bringing it up when he recovered.

"It is only you and I here," he spoke surely, albeit with a strain in his voice. You were unnerved now, despite his weariness he was still willing to lie.

"I hope you do not paint me as such a fool to think I was just hearing things?"

"You are no fool but surely you do not think there is another man in this room with us. I understand you may be on edge, but have you considered that perhaps you just misheard?" he looked to you again, unwavering. His second wind must have finally kicked in as he continued his excuses, "Paranoia from a traumatic experience tends to manifest differently. Furthermore, our tranquilizers contain some hallucinogens, I apologize if it was mishandled to the point of it still having effects on you."

"You don't mean to tell me this incident had nothing to do with that voice," you tried again, bringing up the episode that happened moments ago

"I was merely sleep-deprived and was unaware of how tired I truly was. I am not accustomed to such weakness and panicked for a moment," so sure, so adamant as he spoke to you.

The tiredness had left but it must have taken his tact with it as he showed no intention of speaking courteously. The implication of delusions struck a nerve again but you couldn't entirely discount the possibility. Slowly, you were beginning to doubt yourself, but you tried to keep your resolve.