His Eyes

"Its hard for one who tries so hard to forget to remember but in the same way, its all too easy" Even harder when everything from that forgotten time is so suddenly thrown back into your life. Acknowledged or not… Sequel to Forgotten Memories

So yeah, I know I haven't done anything on here for a while, but here I am again!

Thanks guys! I love so much writing Sweeney Todd because of all of the awesome readers!

K, enough of my ramblings, now read on!

So, unlike Forgotten Memories, the whole story is in third person.

Now, I'm sorry, but the first chapter is mainly what happened in the movie.

Chapter One

Mrs. Lovett's first impression of the young boy beating the drum on Pirelli's stage was automatically passive. She hadn't seen the years of pain and suffering hidden behind his eyes at first. She hadn't paid much attention to anything that happened around her; not with the so recently returned love of her life standing next to her; and not with a plan that they had cooked up to go through with. The boy on stage looked like any child working in London. Short, pale, with dark eyes and a small frame. The only thing that made him more noticeable besides that fact that he was jumping around the stage singing, was the blonde hair that flowed over his head. Which is exactly what attracted many bald men to the stand, interested in how he got such wonderful locks.

When the boy was done going on about his product; and when they were done criticizing the work that he wouldn't of defended had he known a beating would come his way if he didn't, she still didn't think much of him.

The first flicker of her eye hadn't gone his direction until Pirelli had gone to sharpen his barber knives, whereupon they sliced the boys knuckles. His guardian didn't even seem to notice, as the young boy struggled not to cry out too loud and fix his eyes on his guardian's smug face. But even then, she hadn't given it much thought; she had other matters to focus her energy on, right?

But focus was hard to keep when all she had to center her attention on-for what seemed like hours-was Pirelli going on and on about stuff she didn't care about. Mrs. Lovett found herself more and more focused on the feeble looking boy; The way he seemed so scared underneath his obeying eyes. The way he did everything he was told despite the harsh tone of Pirelli's voice. The way he… she stopped focusing on him when Mr. T did his fast sweep of shaving the man in his chair's face and the beadle announced, "The winner is Todd!"

Mrs. Lovett slyly smiled and clapped her hands along with the crowd, knowing that it had worked out as planned.

And she hadn't even seen the young boy again until Pirelli gave an embarrassed smile and kicked him behind the stage, yelling brutally. Something hit her inside then. She didn't really know what and was unable to communicate it into a facial expression. All she seemed to be able to do was mutter to Sweeney, "Perhaps it's just me gentle heart, but I do hate to see a boy treated like that," as she struggled to slip his coat onto his stiff body, eventually just setting it on his shoulders. Not that he cared or even heard her.

Mrs. Lovett had always had a maternal instinct about her (although she liked to pretend she can't remember why). And, coincidentally, she had just finished going on about wanting to be the loving mother that Johanna never had, when she spotted the boy again. She had looked out of the window that Sweeney was brooding through and there he was, strolling next to Pirelli and heading straight for the shop.

She couldn't help but feel a little subconscious tingle when Sweeney told her to keep the boy down stairs. She knew it would be good for the lad to be away from the horrid man he called his guardian for a little while.

She felt pity for the boy when she watched him scarf down that pie she had given him. For one, he must be absolutely starving to ever want to eat something so horrid-looking so fast, and she wondered if Pirelli even fed the boy. Also, she felt pity because of the state of the pie. It's hard not to feel bad for someone when they are forced to eat something that you so poorly cooked.

She wasn't exactly sure why she had brought Albert into the conversation. Of course, it was partly because of the way the boy shoved the pie down his throat; much like her late husband always did. She didn't know that her subconscious mind had made the connection, although she wouldn't for a while.

When the boy reached up and took off the blonde wig, Mrs. Lovett wasn't even surprised. Relieved if nothing else. She had never particularly liked blonde hair anyway. And the boy seemed more like an individual and almost more human without the mask of the wig his guardian made him wear.

It wasn't long till the boy realized that he had forgotten to remind Pirelli of an appointment he had. Mrs. Lovett didn't catch much of what he was shouting as he rushed out of the room, but she did hear "If he's late he'll blame me!" before he went bounding up the steps. She had shouted for him to wait, knowing that Mr. Todd was probably attending to important matters with the boys master and didn't want to be bothered. Even after he didn't listen she didn't run after. She, seconds later, wished that she had, thinking that the boy would run off with Pirelli and she would never see him again.

When the boy came running back down the stairs only about a minute later with a larger than life smile plastered on his face she was a little surprised. After, the boy had announced that Mr. Todd had offered him some gin and Mrs. Lovett was to give it to him, she couldn't help but think on the way back to get the drink that she loved his smile.

Mrs. Lovett was soon to figure out the fate of the lad's guardian, and her head started to race as she thought about the boy. "So uh, wot'er we gonna do 'bout the boy?" Her heart skipped a beat when Mr. Todd announced to send him up, because she knew what that meant.

But she was fast to defend the boy and basically save his life by saying that she had thought about having him help with the shop. "Alright," Mr. Todd had muttered reluctantly. Relieved that she wouldn't have to say goodbye to the young boy anytime soon she joked "Course, we'll 'ave to stock up on the gin. Boy drinks like a sailor!"

Not even seconds later Mrs. Lovett was ordered out of the room, and sent scuttling down the stairs. The judge was arriving at Sweeney's shop, and this was his chance. She had found a rather sleepy light headed Toby downstairs and directed him to the parlor to lie down; where of which she had left to the shop until she saw Anthony running up the stairs, and the judge running down them, still very much alive.

At that point, she hadn't had another thought of the lad now passed out in her home. Not until she had went looking for the bottle of gin, and found him cradling it on the floor of the parlor. Even as she had matters to attend to with Sweeney, she couldn't help but think as she walked away that there was just something about the lad, something about Toby that just made him out of the ordinary.