Chapter 2

Sweeney Todd didn't sleep. He never did.

In the old days he never seemed to be tired, nor did he need to rest. When he caressed Lucy's yellow hair tenderly or watched his little Johanna sleep in the cradle next to their bed, he was filled with so much love, that all he wanted was to continue looking at them, to be sure he was awake and all this happiness wasn't a dream after all. He would doze off every once and a while, and he would dream about Lucy and Johanna, but he always woke up again quickly, because his dreams simply couldn't' be as good as reality.

But that was over now. From that wonderful time was left nothing but a vague memory. They were gone, they weren't a part of his life anymore. The only thing he could do, was take revenge upon the ones responsible for their horrible fates.

During his quest for vengeance he found out that everyone was guilty somehow. Everybody saw how much pain was inflicted upon others, but no one ever did something about it. Two kind of man indeed: those who deserved to die and those for who death would be relief. Death would be a relief for him too, but not before he had killed the Judge; the person whom it was all about after all.

But no matter how much people he murdered, the Judge wasn't among them. And before he was gone, Sweeney Todd couldn't rest. He paced through his barber shop all night long, trying to think of a way to kill Judge Turpin, and if the lack of possibilities frustrated him too much, he tried to remember what Lucy smelled like, or what Johanna's first words had been. He was too absorbed in his bloodthirsty thoughts to notice he couldn't really remember. He didn't really care anymore. When the Judge, and the Beadle too, were death, it would be done. Until that moment they all deserved to die.

It was a good thing that Mrs. Lovett helped him to 'hide' the bodies and that she cleaned everything afterwards. Why she did it he didn't know, but he wasn't a man to worry about that kind of irrelevant things. She did the work he couldn't do, and in his opinion the reason for it wasn't important.

Her singing while she worked, and the sound of the knife that cut the bodies, matched his steps when he paced through the room. Every night again. It was calming, in a strange way: it told him he wasn't completely alone is this great dark pit.

In an empty moment in which Lucy and Johanna didn't occupy his thoughts, he noticed something unique.

It was quiet downstairs. Too quiet. Apparently there wasn't any activity in the pie shop or in the bake house – that wasn't supposed to be. It angered and disappointed him that she wasn't working: she must have at least any idea how important it was those people were killed and their bodies disappeared, so he could continue his quest for justice.

He left the room and descended the stairs; he had to visit Mrs. Lovett's shop and basement to make sure she would continue the work; all his clothes were red-stained except for the one he was wearing now, and that one would need to be washed soon too.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't in her shop, but he hadn't really expected her to be there, so he headed towardthe basement immediately. To his surprise she wasn't there too. He checked all the corners of the bake house, but except for a pile of bodies, a lot of red-stained shirts and the items that did belong in the basement, nothing was there.

The only other place where she could be, was her bed room.

He returned to the pie shop and approached from there the closed bed room door, moving slowly so he wouldn't wake Toby.

He hesitated briefly before he knocked on the door.

"Mrs. Lovett," he whispered. "Are you there?"

She didn't answer. Either she was gone, or she was in such a state she couldn't answer: both meant a serious problem for his plans of vengeance.

He opened the door, and entered her dimly lit room.

She was lying on her bed, apparently sleeping.

"Mrs. Lovett! " he snarled. "What's this? The work isn't done yet!"

She still didn't reply, and just remained lying there. His annoyance and anger was replaced with worry. Maybe there was a good reason she wasn't in the bake house. Now he thought about it, the woman wouldn't neglect her duties, she simply wasn't the type to do so.

"Mrs. Lovett," he repeated, speaking a little louder, while he approached her bed.

When she still didn't react, he grasped her shoulders and shook her lightly.

"Mrs. Lovett!"

Finally she opened her eyes, blinking because of the light that the few candles on her nightstand produced.

"Mr. T!" she gasped. "What are you ding here?!"

"Why aren't you working?" he asked her in return, without bothering to answer her question.

She gasped in shock.

"What is the time? I'm so sorry, I just needed to lay down for a while, I didn't feel well and I was so tired… but I fell asleep, and I…"

She tried to get up, but she fell down in the bed again.

"Just lay down, Mrs. Lovett."

He shook up her pillow and helped her to lay down again. She was very pale and he spotted dark circles around her eyes. Sorrow and annoyance welled in him simultaneously: part of him wanted to drag her out of the bed and force her to do the work, and part of him slightly pitied her when he recognized the symptoms of overtiredness. Although he tried to ignore it, he suffered from it too.

She just lay there, not even blinking her eyes. She always talked too much and had too much energy, but this didn't feel right either. It was clear something was wrong with her. If she was this quiet, it might be worse than just tiredness.

He didn't like that idea. Because she had to bake the pies, wash the clothes and sheets, and clean his shop, of course, but… He didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't forgive himself if he would just leave her like this; not after all what she had done for him.

He realized he had to look after her to make sure she would recover as soon as possible. The thing was, that he hadn't looked after someone for fifteen years, and he wasn't sure if he would still be able of this. He looked around, wondering what he could do to help her.

"Is there something you need, Mrs. Lovett?"

"Yes," she said weakly, not even opening her eyes. "Mr. Todd… will you stay with me tonight?"