Chapter 5
By Faith/Little Lucy
Shock paralyzed Emma's body completely as she heard the shrill, panicked voice ring and echo around the previously quiet house.
"Oh my god…" She whispered, suddenly sorry for all the terrible thoughts she'd ever harbored for the man she loved so dearly. Another devastated scream pierced the quiet night, and hiking up her cumbersome skirts, Emma ran as quickly as was possible to the source of the sound.
"Henry!" She yelled as she ran, stumbling headlong into the laboratory and falling to her knees. Dragging herself to her feet, she made out the figure of a woman… the same woman from earlier that night. Anger surged through her veins, an alien sensation, and she froze where she was, reconsidering.
"Oh Emma, I'm so glad you're here," a shaky, broken voice said, almost inaudibly. "Please, help me, Henry's dying… we've got to do something…"
Moving closer, Emma saw the figure of a man… and cried out.
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Jumbled thoughts ran through Lucy's head, most of them nonsensical and too mixed up. Brushing furiously at her tear stained cheeks, her eyes sought the help of the tall, elegant woman that stood before her, the woman whom she had made Henry betray. "It's my fault," Lucy whispered in an agonized voice, after Emma's cry subsided, leaving only silent tears running down her cheeks. The sight of the woman that represented all she did not have in life, so broken, so tragic… her stomach twisted into a tight knot, and she nearly wretched. To Lucy, Emma seemed the epitome of perfection. A woman who had everything. And yet, despite their opposite worlds, their sharply contrasted lifestyles, they were the same in the one aspect; that if Henry died, they would lose everything.
"Emma, please," Lucy choked out, desperately.
To her relief, Emma fell to her knees beside them, but rather than staying so calm and collected as was usual, she covered Henry's wrist with her hand, staunching the flow of blood, then doubled over with silent sobs.
Lucy buried her face in her hands for a few short seconds, despairing. What can I do now…? My only hope for help is just as broken as I…
An agonizing forever passed in the dark laboratory as the two strong women wept, their hearts united in sorrow for the man they loved. Then, quietly, one filled with resolve and rose to her feet, taking command of the seemingly hopeless situation.
Moving gracefully across the room, she lifted a candle from the table, it's flame casting soft light and shadows around the room, then walked to examine the situation more closely. The scene she found again wrenched at her heart, and tears threatened to flow once more. Remembering the note she'd found on the door, she recorded the name in her mind, thinking it over and over again. Utterson… She would find him immediately… after she tended to Henry.
Casting a glance over her shoulder once more, Lucy ran to Henry's study. He had bandages there.
That was where he had treated her wounds that first night she had come to him… now she would do the same for him.
Arriving there, she frantically searched the drawers of his desk, finally retrieving a roll of gauze and several varied tubes that looked medicinal, though she wasn't sure what any of the names meant. Most of them she couldn't even read. Then she ran back to the laboratory, feeling her heart skip several beats as she went through the doorway, as if the room was an entirely different world from the rest of the house.
Emma was still sobbing over Henry's still, silent form, hunched over him protectively. She, too, was now soaked with blood. Gently, Lucy removed Emma's hand from Henry's wrist, finding that the blood flow had slowed. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved, or more panic stricken. Was he losing that much blood?
With one look at his face, she paled. Setting the candle down on the floor about 2 feet away, she went to work, momentarily realizing that Emma had moved to lie beside Henry, gazing at him with glazed eyes. She was no longer crying, which worried Lucy more than any tragic sob would.
Frowning, she turned her attention back to more dire matters, measuring out about a foot of gauze, then tearing it with her teeth. Blinking back more unbidden tears, she chose a tube that looked similar to the ointment that he had applied to her wounds … so long ago … and wrapped his wrist tightly with the gauze. Giving a heavy sigh, she then moved to examine his other wrist, and decided to wrap it as well, although the blood had already caked and dried.
Upon finishing, she then examined his pale face… his eyes had closed, and panic fluttered in her heart once again. "No, Henry, don't leave me… us. We need you. Don't die!" Her last words died in the midst of a sob, and his eyes fluttered open.
"Emma…" He whispered, and Lucy's heart broke. Again. But she didn't allow the feeling to linger for long, no matter how devastating. She knew Emma was who he needed, and Emma was who he would have, if she ever recovered from this incident. She knew that she herself had nearly reached for the knife on the floor, had nearly ended her pitiful existence… but Henry needed her. Rarely did anyone need her, and she couldn't fail him. She shook her head violently, as if to rid herself of any morbid thoughts, and stood, determined to find Utterson, this man whom she desperately needed. This man whom Jekyll needed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Emma barely raised her head, barely noticed Lucy's departure. Henry was dying. He was DYING! She hadn't the strength to cry… the anguish in her heart had nearly killed her already. Lucy had treated his wounds. Good. Her wounds would never heal. She stared. Simply stared at his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," She whispered to him, though she wasn't sure if her lips moved, if sound escaped them.
She'd never spoken the words before. Now it seemed imperative. As if her life and his life and the world hung in the balance and they were the only things that would save anything… anything worth saving. Then she mentally took the knife and stabbed herself with it, ashamed that her strength had failed her. She had always prided herself on her diplomacy, her calm, the way she kept herself collected, her patience. Always. She'd failed. "I'm sorry, Henry, I'm sorry, so sorry…" She said, finally hearing herself speak, but not sure it was her. Her smooth, calm voice cracked, it wavered. Her voice never wavered. She never wavered. What's wrong with her?! She thought, as violently as a thought can be. Her? You. Emma. What's wrong with me. You. God, I'm confused. Yes, I need to turn to God, but then, what has he done for my dear sweet Henry?
Her thoughts ended abruptly as the figure beside her finally moved. Finally. He was alive. "Henry!" She exclaimed, but quietly. She was afraid to disturb the thick darkness. The silence.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She'd found him. Against all odds, he was running with her, back to Jekyll's house. Back to that morbid scene. What would he think? She had simply told him, Henry was dying. In his deep voice, his calm-but-agitated manner, he had simply said, "Then we must hurry," and followed her.
Silence was sweet to Lucy, she didn't want to answer questions. She wanted her questions answered, but knew it was not possible, so they were both silent, except for the clicking of John Utterson's shoes on the paved streets. Lucy was barefoot.
And freezing.
She led him to the laboratory, led him to the terrible, bloody, dark room, where two lost souls lay side-by-side… possibly gone, by then.
A gasp escaped his being as he took it in, and Lucy sighed.
"There," was her single word, her explanation. She gestured towards Henry and Emma.
She needed to say no more. Together, they lifted Henry, took him to his bedroom and lay him on his bed, then Lucy returned to Emma, entrusting the sole light in her dark life to a stranger.
Email: littllucy@collegeclub.com
