The air felt frigid and bitter and its ice nails dug deep into Mr. Todd's skin, poisoning his veins and freezing his blood into glacial liquid. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the thickening ashen clouds that threatened frosty winds. It seemed so long ago that he strolled London's cobblestone streets, not including the time he 'reunited' with Pirelli, because the atmosphere was crowded and constantly bothersome. But now, when the wind yowling and the temperature rapidly dropping, the busy and bustling city of London grew quiet and deserted, adorned with a beggar or two.
Mr. Todd was rooted to a single spot: right in front of the Judge's home. His eyes scanned the windows, hoping to spot a young, beautiful face much like Lucy's, but the lacy curtains were draped over the windows and obscured anything from sight. But how would spotting Johanna's face benefit him? It would torture him, leave his soul and mind writhing in agony to eye his daughter's face but unable to do anything, not unless the malevolent Judge would someday reenter his barber shop. His cold hands clenched into fists as anger boiled and brewed in his mind.
The Judge. He was the one who did anything, everything to tear Mr. Todd's life apart. Imprisoning him for no reason, raping his wife that directly led to ending her life, and now confining his daughter, his beautiful, young daughter in the place closest to hell. His sight seemed to change to a dark sanguine hue as anger seemed to possess him, tear at his body and snare his mind. He completely forgot about the bleak weather, and that the rumbling ocean of clouds churned threateningly. His fingers twitched towards his precious blades, but what could he do with them? Break a window and crawl in the house like a common thief? He balled his fists, seething with fury.
And now she was gone. Beautiful, virtuous, loving Lucy was whisked away like the crackling leaves ripped from their branches by the wind and disappearing past the horizon. She was cold, dead, lying somewhere six feet under, or perhaps rotting into dust in the same alleyway she drank the arsenic. Mr. Todd's soul seemed to freeze into ice at the very thought. Hadn't the Judge any mercy for her? Hadn't London any mercy for her? Did anyone that sinned and breathed on this wretched black pit care for her?
There were times when Mr. Todd peered out the window, scanning around for the Judge like a hawk when sometimes he would suddenly see Lucy. Lucy, ambling down the roads wearing tattered clothes and grime soiling her face. But as this image, this hope, came, it was lost and disappeared. Mr. Todd would shake his head, remembering that Lucy was gone, dead, and would never come back.
If only Mr. Todd could still cry. Tears would be streaking down his cheek and raining onto the ground at this terrible thought. His soul's and mind's burdens would stream away from him like the tears. He could be relieved from pain, but no. Mr. Todd no longer had the ability to cry. He no longer knew how to anymore, for the ability was lost in him in the dungeons. The anger, the mourning, the urges to cry out in pain was bolted shut inside his soul and boiled inside him. Mr. Todd breathed heavily, as if hoping that would relieve this horrendous agony.
"Lucy," he whispered, the name bringing both happiness in himself and excruciating pain in his heart like his daggers. "My dear, dead Lucy..."
Just as he was about to finally turn away and head back to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, a sudden chill shot through his body. He froze, his mind racing. What was that all about? Just as it came, it suddenly left. Then it came again, but on his hand. And again, again, again. He slowly fingered his hand to find it moist.
"Ah, yes," he muttered softly to himself. "How long ago was it since I last felt rain?"
Mr. Todd craned his white neck towards the unforgiving sky as needles of rain came plummeting to the earth, speckling the pebbled roads and sending cold tremors throughout his body. Rain felt foreign to him, like a long-lost friend he no longer remember, or a memory constantly slipping from his mind. The sickly raindrops soaked through his clothes and dampened his skin, growing heavier and heavier by the second. It felt so terribly cold, so cold it hurt, but Mr. Todd remained frozen to the spot.
Mr. Todd closed his eyes, letting the rain gush onto his face. It felt soothing somehow, but it seemed that every time it seemed to wash away a worry, a darkened memory would stream into his mind. It felt so awfully cold, like in the dungeons where he was trapped in for fifteen years. He suddenly shuddered at the thought and clutched the coiling metal for support, praying that no one saw him almost collapse. The wretched memory snaked up into his mind, wringing it with pain. He leaned on the dank fence, slowly opening his eyes into paper-thin slits, gazing at the sky through his lashes.
Was it just him, or did the dark cloud look like Lucy's angelic face?
Mr. Todd widened his eyes. The heavy rain pelted his body like arrows, but he didn't care. His eyes drank in hungrily the sight of the cloud, of Lucy. He could stand at this very spot and gaze at her loving smile for eternity. It was as if Heaven, if Lucy were crying for him. The thought brushed softly through Mr. Todd's mind and a very small smile flitted on his face for a millisecond. Lucy, his only consolation in this wretched world, cried for his pain.
The rain was now pummeling against Mr. Todd's body like spears of ice, but he no longer felt them. He slowly reached out a hand towards the sky, as if yearning to caress the cloud, to caress Lucy's soft face. He closed his eyes, not daring to see any more of the iniquitous world. For a moment, he felt as if he were stroking Lucy's cheek, her soft and warm flesh against his cold fingers. He didn't remember the rain anymore, the Judge anymore, or even vengeance and hate.
It was only Lucy and him now, reunited in the rain, desiring to remain so forever.