In The Fire

Chapter One: Endings and Beginnings

"'Don't I know you,' she said…" Sweeney muttered, in disbelief. He brushed her flaxen hair out of the way, and studied her face in the fire. Sweeney held his wife, now limp and lifeless in his arms. "You lied to me…" He whispered to Mrs. Lovett, eyes still glued to his love.

"No, not lied at all…" She said, backing away slowly, "no, I never lied."

"Lucy…" He said, in despair.

"Said she took the poison, she did, never said that she died!" The baker said fearfully. She really didn't, she was just protecting him! Protecting him from all the pain, or at least from the worst of it. "Poor thing! She lived, but it left her weak in the head, all she did for months was just lie there in bed, should've been in hospital, wound up in bedlam instead, poor thing!"

"Oh, my god…."

"Better you should think she was dead, yes I lied, 'cause I love you… I'd be twice the wife she was, I love you… could a thing like that love you… like... me?" She panicked, fearing the hate she would she in Sweeney's eyes.

"Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder; imminently practical, and yet appropriate as always," Sweeney sang, with a grin. "As you've said repeatedly, there's little point in dwelling on the past!" He slowly paced towards the woman.

"Do you mean it?" Nellie said in shock.

"Now come here, my love…" Sweeney motioned with his hands.

"Everything I did, I swear, thought it was only for the best…"

"Not a thing to fear, my love…" He crept closer to her.

"Believe me, can we, still be… married?" She asked, closing her eyes in relief.

"What's dead is dead…" He grabbed her hand.

She was whisked away by Sweeney, suddenly dancing.

"The history of the world, my pet…"

"Oh, Mr. Todd, oh, Mr. Todd, leave it to me…" She said, eyes still closed, thinking of the sea, her and Mr. T… married.

"Is learn forgiveness and try to forget…" Sweeney led her slowly to the open fire.

"By the sea Mr. Todd, we'll be comfy cozy, by the sea Mr. Todd, where there's no one nosy!" She told him, again, hoping they would be married.

"But life is for the alive, my dear, so let's keep living it…"

"Let's keep living it…" She opened her eyes. She felt the flames near her, and saw the demonic glow upon Sweeney's face. Nellie panicked, and did the only thing that came to mind—she pushed him down. They came crashing to the cold stone floor, Nellie screaming bloody murder. "No, Mr. T! Please, don't kill me!"

"Get off of me, damned woman!" Sweeney roared, throwing the baker to the side. His razor had slid away when he was pushed down. As he got up, Nellie dived for it, and grabbed it shakily.

"Please Mr. T, don't kill me! Please, please! I didn't mean to hurt you!" She screamed, gripping the razor so hard, her knuckles turned white. "She gave up on you, just like everybody else! I didn't, Mr. T! I never did! I moved in, I took care of Johanna when Lucy was ill, I worked, and I fought! Mr. T, I hurt too!" Tears started rolling down the baker's cheeks, and her voice cracked, and got lower. "I h-hurt the very same! I prayed for your safety… I..." Nellie's voice stopped. She looked up from the floor, and met Sweeney's eyes.

They were cold, and emotionless. Sweeney looked at the desperate woman, hopelessly clutching his razor as if it was her lifeline. He felt pity, contempt. Although he knew, just knew, that he was going to regret ever doing this, he walked over to Mrs. Lovett, and roughly grabbed her by the arm. She flinched terribly, and Sweeney almost felt bad for the woman. "Forget my face." He growled. He threw her back onto the floor.

"Mr. T…" Nellie wept. She still held onto the razor, little cuts forming on her hands. She lifted her head, hoping to see the love of her life, but he was gone. The metal door left ajar, and an eerily cool breeze came through. She looked at the razor in her hands, turning it over. The metal glinted, and she could see the dried blood on it. It was engraved, with a picture of a woman crying. "Mr. T… I could never forget your face…"

Sweeney ran upstairs to where his barbershop was. He grabbed a few changes of clothes, and stuffed it into a small bag. He rapidly cleared out all the money he had, putting it in his bag. He grabbed his razors, counting only five. "Five... five... where's my… shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit…" Mrs. Lovett. She had the last one. He couldn't go back. He had to run. "Damned woman, useless, stupid bitch." He muttered more profanities, and escaped into the night.

Mrs. Lovett heard a slow, scraping sound. She turned around wildly, scared shitless. She saw Toby. "Toby, love." She sighed in relief. It was only her Toby. Her precious, innocent Toby. "Toby, you're sure to be the death of me, makin' me run around like a mad woman. Me poor bones aren't wot they used to, you know." She smiled weakly, swiftly hiding the razor into one of the pockets of her dress. She wiped her hands with a chuckle. "Toby… Toby, love. We need to talk." Nellie shakily stood up. 'Dear God, I need to pull myself together…' She walked to Toby, and took him into her arms. She quietly gulped. "What exactly do you know, Toby? About Mr. T?" She looked at her adoptive son; truly fearing what he knew.

"He's the devil, mum! He kills! We must tell the beadle! He needs to be locked away! We must--!" He was cut off by Mrs. Lovett's hand covering his mouth. He looked up at Nellie, questioning in his eyes. He saw tears roll down her ashen cheeks, slowly dripping to his hair. He saw her pull something out. Was that a razor? He heard faint mumbling, sounding like an apology. Suddenly a cool piece of metal was at his throat. Before he could even protest, the immoral instrument had done its wicked deed.

"I'm so sorry, Toby…" Nellie sobbed. She felt his body go limp, and his warm blood stream down her arms. She sobbed, holding the corpse tightly. She let go of the razor, hearing it clatter coldly on the pavement floor. She cradled her beloved son's body. "I'm so sorry… I had to… for Mr. T…" She whimpered quietly.

She sat there for a long time, until Toby was completely cold and her body completely numb. She slowly stood up. Her knees attempted to buckle under her, but she held strong. She dragged Toby's body to the oven, and pushed it in. Her eyes were completely cold as the hot flames of Toby's burning body warmed her face. She grabbed the rest of the bodies and burned those also. As the putrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, she swore she would never let anything get in the way of her happiness.

Two Years Later

It was a warm sunny day, unlike the one two years ago. Nellie Lovett walked the beach, warm sand seeping through her toes. The crashing of the waves and the cries of the seagulls were heard in the background, along the small whimpers and whinings of her pet, Anouk. Anouk was a 13-year-old girl, an orphan, that Nellie found about to walk into a brothel. Desperate for help, she hired Anouk to clean and tend to the shop that she opened in a town next to the sea. Her dreams of living by the sea weren't as sweet as she thought they would be. Of course, she loved the sand, the surf, the sun, but it just felt empty, in some strange way. Well, it was not so strange. She missed her Toby, and mourned practically every day. Anouk was a pleasant girl, very kind and witty, but she still missed Toby. Then there was Sweeney. Her beautiful Sweeney. No one could replace him. Often times, Nellie would suddenly just daydream of where her barber was, right in the middle of things. Her eyes would dull, and her words trail off, and there you go, she was gone. It would take something insignificant, a mindless comment, to remind her of Sweeney or Toby. God, how she wished he was with her.

"Ma'am, where are we going?'' Anouk asked, in her soft voice. She was slowly trailing behind Mrs. Lovett, her dreamy disposition inhibiting her to go faster. She had long curly brown hair, pulled into messy high pigtails, and quite subtle features, nothing distinctive about her. Except her eyes. Anouk's eyes were the color of the sky before the moon came out. They shone with a curiosity that was rare to find these days. Actually if you looked at the pair, they looked like mother and daughter, both with rather pale faces, and sunken eyes. Anouk was carrying a rather heavy basket, filled with many things of different natures. She sighed quietly as she saw her mistress slowly come to a stop. Not again, ma'am. She saw Nellie's eyes dull, and saw the parasol in her thin hands slip slightly. I really wish I knew what she would think about… She heaved the basket onto her hip, and scurried to her mistress. "Ma'am, we need to get to the shop, it's getting late." She said, while nudging Nellie's arm slightly.

Nellie gasped loudly, as if she came out of harsh cold waters. She looked around wildly, scared. "What?" She looked to her left, and saw the face of Anouk. She was confused. Where was her Toby? Where was Sweeney? "Dearie, where's Mr. T? And my Toby? Where are they?" She saw the girl's brow furrow in confusion. Who was this girl?

"Missus, I don't know any Toby. Or Mr. T… It's just us." Anouk said quietly, slightly worried for her mistress. She pulled on Nellie's sleeve, and lead her to their shop. "Ma'am, I'm Anouk. Remember? This is our shop; we make pastries." She looked at Nellie, hoping her momentary lapse passed.

"Anouk…" Nellie mumbled, her eyes dull. "Anouk, what time is it?" She walked to her shakily. Mrs. Lovett looked dead tired. Her skin looked ghostly pale, and her eyes even more sunken. Anouk worried over the woman that saved her, fearing she wouldn't be able to return the favor.

"It's time to go to bed, ma'am." She led Mrs. Lovett to her room. Satisfied with her state, Anouk walked out of the older woman's room to put away the things in the basket. "There was a lady and her love, a bitter lady and her love, and oh how foolish she was. The webs she weaved, the webs of lies she made him believe, was the cause of their doom. She was the one to break her heart, the one that caused them to break apart…" She sang quietly, as she washed the counters, preparing for tomorrow's rush of customers. The oak counters were covered with small pieces of dough, and powdered sugar. Wiping her hands on her dress, she hummed and closed the curtains on the shop's window, hoping for a better day tomorrow. Perhaps, if she was lucky, her mistress wouldn't suffer any memories.

The Very Same Day

It was a warm sunny day, unlike that night two years ago. Sweeney's heavy boots thundered against the old wooden floor of the abandoned pie shop, as he brooded over his current situation.

After leaving London, Sweeney sought refuge in a small town 100 kilometers away. He had hidden there until he found out news of a demon barber and a devil's baker hung in Nottinghamshire. After hearing that, he returned to London, hoping he would find Mrs. Lovett, and hopefully kill her and Toby. Oddly, the idea of killing wasn't as alluring as it used to be, in their case. Killing Toby would be easy, and slightly boring, as he felt nothing towards the boy. But the idea of seeing all that crimson pouring out of Mrs. Lovett, that he liked. He looked forward to the feeling of the cool metal pressing against her pale throat, and having that feeling of domination over her. It almost turned him on. But then, the idea of her dying troubled him. It perplexed him, because he wanted her dead. But, she truly didn't deserve to die. She was a smart woman, witty and clever. She never chided Sweeney about killing other men, or tried to discourage him. In fact, at times she seemed to applaud him. She knew that killing Turpin was important to him, and she tried to help him get that vile man into the chair. She also always took care of him, with no money being asked in return. She made him food, albeit not extremely delicious food, but she did do everything for him. It almost made him feel guilty for treating her so badly. But there was that side; that annoying, girlish, pitiful side. Her constant dreaming of living at the sea, marrying him, living with friends perfectly. He wondered why she was so smitten of him, it's not as if they had known each other before… before he was taken away.

Maybe they did, but Sweeney was no longer sure of anything. He could no longer remember the face of his dear Lucy, the one he had fallen in love with, not the one he so wrongly killed. And Johanna, his darling and beautiful daughter. Oh, how he wished of meeting his daughter, at least… he used to. The idea of seeing Johanna no longer played in his mind. Lucy and Johanna were a part of Benjamin Barker's life; not Sweeney Todd's. Benjamin Barker was killed, along with Judge Turpin, Beadle Bamford, Lucy Barker, Davy Jones, and all the other people that died in London two years ago. Sweeney Todd no longer had anything to live for. And that thought truly saddened him.

"Where could she have gone?" Sweeney growled. He had searched the entire building, even the bakehouse, but he found no trace of Mrs. Lovett or Toby. He asked around Fleet Street, but no one had seen anyone in that building in a little under two years, only a widow with red hair leaving a few weeks after the death of Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford. It was rumored that she saw their murders and went mad. He concluded that something happened to Toby. Good, the damned boy was too much trouble than he was worth. But then he wondered whether Mrs. Lovett was alive. The streets of London weren't particularly the most safe place for a woman. But if she was, where did she go? He had no idea where the inane woman would head to. As he paced the shop's floor, the thought hit him. Of course. He felt almost stupid for not thinking of it earlier. The sea. She would've immediately jumped at the chance of moving there with her 'precious' Toby. The closest town that was by the sea was 25 kilometers away. A three day trip; given if he rested. So as the sun set on 187 Fleet Street, Sweeney finally found something to live for.

To find Mrs. Lovett and kill her.