Chapter Two
Sweeney Todd opened his eyes. His head hurt with a dull ache that he expected came from the billy club. At first, he couldn't see a thing, but a few moments passed and things began to come into focus. He saw a very unconscious Mrs. Lovett laying a few feet away from him. He looked up and saw a barred window ten feet above him on the opposite wall. Dim light was beginning to fill the small room; it was apparently dawn. On the left was a wall, were Mrs. Lovett had her head propped up. The cell wasn't very big at all, maybe ten feet in length and width. The wall to Sweeney's right was a wall made out of bars with half-barrel hinges.
Half-barrel hinges.
Sweeney stood up and examined the hinges. Yes, they were the right kind. Now, if there was a bench or something of that sort…but there wasn't. There was nothing in the cell besides Mrs. Lovett and him. Escape wasn't probable. It was possible, yes, but definitely improbable. One should never scheme alone, so Sweeney took a few steps and crouched next to Mrs. Lovett. She was in quite an awkward position. She was half-sitting, her head on her chest. Her left arm was bent behind her back, and her right was tucked underneath her thigh. It looked as if someone had thrown her. Just then, a thought came to Sweeney's mind. She looks like a doll; a broken doll. His gaze went from seeing to observing. Her skin was flawless and white, almost glowing with the little light in the cell. The only blemish it had was a bruise near her left temple. Anger welled inside of Sweeney as he thought of the man hurting Mrs. Lovett—or anyone, for that matter.
Those bloody police officers, he thought as he moved her from her painful position. How they can beat innocent people. Cruel, heartless, evil…they deserve every swing of silver that I've got. Mindlessly, Sweeney reached for his razor. It wasn't there. Emptiness filled him, and then anger. This rage that he felt was second only to the state of mind Sweeney was in as he murdered Judge Turpin.
Where was it? Where had he left it? He vaguely remembered reaching for it before getting clobbered. (That was an embarrassing thought; Sweeney would never admit to getting knocked out by some over-excited child with a badge and a club.) If they had taken it, he would…he would…Just what would he do? He couldn't very well cut their throats without his razor, and beating them all until they were dead didn't make much sense, either. Besides, it was much too messy. More anger filled his being as he put his head in his hands and dug his fingernails into his scalp. How could he let this happen? Everything was going so smoothly, and now, thanks to the boy, he and Mrs. Lovett were stuck in this god-forsaken jail cell. He could hear no one, just the delicate breathing of his broken doll. They were going to die there, Sweeney was certain. No one was going to release them, and there was no hope of escape. The only option left was to die.
"Mr. T." A hand reached up and touched his arm. He froze, but Nellie squeezed his arm anyway. "It's alright, love. We're going to get out of here. Everything's going to be alright."
"No," he whispered. "You are going to die here. I am going to die here. There is no escaping it."
"Please, Mr. Todd, you're hurting me!" gasped Mrs. Lovett. He had unknowingly dug his fingernails into Mrs. Lovett's shoulders, causing her more pain than she would have guessed. Sweeney slowly released his painful grip, but didn't move his hands from her shoulders. Mrs. Lovett looked at him quizzically, and Sweeney himself looked a bit confused. He watched his hands move from her shoulders to her neck. It wasn't like the many times he had grasped her neck before. This time he had no razor,and he wasn't tightening his grip. He was just…holding her. He was holding his doll. Mrs. Lovett looked longingly into his eyes, begging him with her gaze to close the small gap between them. Her heart was beating faster every second as she thought one word over and over again. Please. Please, please, please. A few moments passed and the two were stone still. What is he thinking?
At that point, Sweeney was wondering the same thing. What am I thinking? This isn't right. Lucy is my wife. No, she was my wife. Lucy is dead. Nothing can bring her back. Not now, not ever. Johanna's gone, Lucy's gone, and yet…she isn't. She's here, like she's been all of these years, waiting for me. Oh, why couldn't she just leave him to wallow in self-pity? Why did she keep interrupting the pattern of his world? Why did she manage to keep his head above water? And the one question that plagued his mind: Why did she have to be so beautiful?
Why did he have to be so beautiful? Through all those years and all of those pies, she still couldn't let go. It wasn't Benjamin Barker she loved, no; he had died in the barber shop with Lucy. Now it was Sweeney, and only Sweeney. His state of distress, even if he wouldn't admit it, now only made her love him more. How could a jail cell possibly change the way she felt?
How could a jail cell possibly change the way he felt? He had lied. Sweeney said that Benjamin Barker was dead, but he wasn't. If he was, then killing Turpin was something with no other reward than prison. Benjamin's ghost had been inside him all of those months, but he felt different that morning. Benjamin was gone.
Benjamin was gone. Benjamin was truly gone.
Benjamin was truly gone.
Hesitantly, Mrs. Lovett lifted her head and brought it closer to his. Closing her eyes, she took a small breath and gently pressed her lips to Sweeney's. Suddenly, all tension was gone and warmth ran through the both of them. An emotion pulsed through Sweeney's veins: fulfillment. He needed this for 15 years, and that need was at last fulfilled. Satisfied? No. But as he realized what he was thinking, Mrs. Lovett pulled back. She gasped and turned away. What had compelled her to do that? "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I'm sorry." She turned her head, and as she was fighting off tears, she felt a need to look at Sweeney.
"No, Mr. T. I am sorry. We're stuck in here, and you're right. We're not getting out." If Sweeney's face could fall any further, it did at that moment. The kiss had cleared his mind of all thoughts of captivity, and being reminded of it was like being hit by a wall of bricks.
"We're going to die here."
Sweeney grabbed her head and pulled it towards him in one swift gesture. "Nellie, perhaps I was wrong. We will leave here and I swear we will murder all those who have put us here. " Mrs. Lovett gave an involuntary nod. She almost shivered with joy at the fact that he called her Nellie. He was so close…
Then they heard footsteps. As they learned from that previous night, footsteps from unknown people were not a good sign. An officer unlocked the door and opened it."You two," he said in a gruff voice. "They're ready to give you your sentence."
Author's Note: I had to wait and check this with a few people to fix OOC problems. Utmost thanks to the.kelly.affair. , ThruthxLiesxMagic, and Starry Night Blue. To the readers, you probably would hate me right now if it weren't for these guys!
