It was unfair, he whispers to himself. He only wanted out. He only wanted to get out and into the world, to have a high time and escape the darkness inside of Jekyll. He wanted to be free. And now Jekyll won't let him back in. He's ruined things too much, and he can't scramble back in now that he wants to.

They'll hang him. They'll hang him for doing that terrible thing that he wouldn't have done, oh, he wouldn't have done if he'd only been allowed out oftener. He knows Jekyll's left out a little vial of poison for him. Jekyll shut him out. Damn him. Jekyll, of all people, ought to understand.

It was Jekyll who wanted to know in the first place. Jekyll let him out, and Jekyll let him have a run of it. Jekyll enjoyed the run as much as he did. Jekyll let him keep on. It's all Jekyll's fault, all the old man's fault. It's unfair. It's true he learned to get out on his own without Jekyll.... but he'd never have done that if Jekyll hadn't shut him up! It's unfair. Nothing is his fault.

And he doesn't want to die. Not yet. He hasn't done all the splendid things he wants to yet. Oh, if only Jekyll would let him back in once more, just once more, long enough for the damned police to pass over, see things all right, and leave again. He wants to be out and he wants to have his times, but he needs Jekyll to hide inside, as well. He doesn't want to need him. He doesn't want to need anyone. But right now, more than anything in the world, he needs Jekyll.

Damn Jekyll.

He shivers, and glances at the poison again. He doesn't want to be hanged. And Jekyll's a spiteful bastard, to somehow know, to taunt him that way. There's nowhere to hide but within Jekyll. Jekyll's shut him out. It's either hanging or the poison now, thanks to the horrid old man.

It's unfair, he whispers again. It's unfair. If only Jekyll would be fair. Jekyll used to like it, Jekyll used to like it. He ought to still like it. He oughtn't betray his... his son like this. He despises Jekyll's fatherly instinct, but now it could save his life. A last plea... Oh, he wouldn't leave his son?

He tries to fake a few piteous tears, and finds that a few are real, and he's terrified. Jekyll must have known he'd always planned to go back inside and stay inside in the end? He was only disobeying a little, just a little. Just to have some fun. He so hated being shut up inside. But he'd meant to in the end. He'd meant to go back. Jekyll must believe him.

Jekyll doesn't answer. Jekyll is buried too deep inside. Jekyll is hiding inside him now, not the other way around, and there's nothing to do..

He glares at the poison. The bastard. He knew. He knew it would happen like this.

Poison... He's led to understand poison makes you hurt as you die. It rips apart your insides with pain. And what are his insides right now? Why, they're Jekyll. Evil, heartless Jekyll.

He smiles triumphantly and grabs the vial. At least he'll have revenge. A hanging would only hurt him, and not Jekyll. He drinks it, feeling at last he's got the upper hand.

Then it starts to hurt. And that's the damnable thing, isn't it? It's hurting them both. It would hurt him too. God, it hurts. It hurts. He falls to the floor, and twitches, glaring dangerously at the ceiling. God damn it. It's hurting Jekyll too. It must be. But it's hurting him...

He once imagined his last day would be spent up to his eyeballs in a good wine, with a beautiful girl. Damn it all to hell.

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