A/N: Welcome back! How are you? Well, I hope.
I want to thank: Makrciana, RippahGoneWolf, PGAEmma, Malsie19, HelloBruiser, MissMisc3, Newland Archer, XantheXV, ForeverACharmedOne, Leyshla Gisel, music is life 99 xxx, guest, Caribbean Wonders55, dionne dance, TinkerbellxO and Kimmy987.
You are all wonderful!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd.
Chapter 3
Trust is to human relationships what faith is to gospel living. It is the beginning place, the foundation upon which more can be built. Where trust is, love can flourish.
~Barbara Smith
Beatrice moved closer with the razor, ignoring the little voice in her head which told her to stop. She secured the towel around his neck and then sat upon the thin mattress. She flicked the old razor open and slowly leaned forward. She started with his chin, moving the blade in slow smooth movements, careful not to nick the skin.
"Yes, I know…" she murmured, "I hate it when others have to take care of me as well…Well," she paused and wiped the blade on the towel before she continued, "Not that I have been in your position many times before…Not really." She shook her head and gently touched the shaven chin, checking the result and she smiled.
"That's why I loved my childhood…I was able to sit on my own, with my grandmother…No care in the world…no one to loom over me like a dark shadow…She was glad to raise me, my grandma…" Beatrice trailed off and then shrugged, "It made it easier…It made everything easier. She was a simple thing, my grandmother." She nodded as she moved the razor up his cheek, "She was so different from my mother. She had no elegance, no…refinement, but she had a clear face, an honest aura about her that made her reliable and more beautiful than any younger woman. I do not think she had any hate in her…I don't think she was capable of such an emotion." She wiped the blade again before she moved onto another part of stubbled skin.
The man remained asleep and unmoving, but Beatrice found that she liked talking to him. People around her always raised their voices to be heard; they never cared to listen to others.
"Probably because she knew that in every man there are two sides…A good and a bad one. The latter capable of anything monstrous…the other capable of immense love and sensitivity…I don't think she realized how she too had been betrayed into thinking her family wasn't capable of evil…I don't…" Beatrice took a deep breath and moved the razor above the man's heart shaped upper lip, sliding the blade over the scratchy skin until it was smooth and pale looking again.
"I think it was best for her…not knowing. Ignorance is bliss sometimes…Isn't that what they say?"
She pulled the blade away from his mouth and then gazed at his sideburns, deciding it was better to move cautiously.
"I am sure that if she knew about the truth of my mother's death she'd…" Beatrice trailed off, pausing before she continued, "She'd be able to forgive him…But I don't think he deserves it…Not when he got away unpunished…"
She gently slid down the blade while holding his skin taut, "It's so unfair, isn't it? When others truly pay for their transgressions, he went away with no charge just because he was…lucky. That is what he always claims…He was lucky." She shook her head, "I think he was just a weakling and a coward. Only brave people take the blame for something they did…He…he throws the blame on his precious bottles." Her mouth curled and she sighed, "You see, that is why you must never judge a book by its cover. Covers are deceiving…Sinister and dishonest people hiding behind masks of virtuousness and success…It is not right…But I suppose, it is after all a…" Beatrice trailed off as she looked up, her hand ready to move towards the other sideburn.
She froze when she realized that the man's eyes were open and staring right at her. She swallowed hard and slowly moved the sharp object away from his face, fearful of causing him fright.
"Oh…A horrible world." she finished her sentence, but the intense, unnerving staring continued.
"You are awake." she whispered, "How are you feeling?" She asked him, but he did not even blink. His dark eyes were unfathomably deep and something in them glimmered like a slow burning fire.
Beatrice tensed up and moved slightly back. The man's eyes followed the movement and she licked her suddenly dry lips. She had no idea of how to proceed. Should she continue with the shave? Should she touch him? Should she speak again? Was he going to attack her again? And oh, God, why was he still staring at her like that?
Deciding that the best and more obvious choice was to finish what she had started, she moved forward again, hell-bent to finish her job even if she knew that it was most likely for him to snatch the razor from her and attack her. The possibility was more of a fact if he was indeed an escaped convict.
His dark eyes narrowed minutely when she leaned close to his face and then they lowered, dropping as his stare zeroed on the blade gliding over his bruised cheek.
"The bruise is nearly gone…I am sure in a few days it will be gone completely." She said softly, her voice shaking just a bit.
"You must be thirsty and hungry. As soon as I am done, I will fetch you something to eat and drink. Your fever is almost gone…too." She added the last sentence when she noticed how fixated his eyes were on the razor.
She finished quickly and then immediately pulled the sharp object away. His eyes followed the movement and then they snapped up to hers.
Beatrice blinked, but then his dry lips parted and she held her breath.
"Who are you?" He croaked and she almost breathed a sigh of relief at his question.
"My name's Beatrice Avalon…" She replied and he paused.
"Avalon?" His chest rose and fell with every heavy inhalation and she was worried that he would fall unconscious again. He wouldn't survive without food or water for much longer. He was too thin. He was…No. She decided. He was not weak. He was strong.
"Yes, sir." She finally replied because she could see that he was getting restless.
His eyes roamed her face, "Who were you talking about?" He murmured in a low voice, his brow furrowed.
"I am sorry?" She whispered as her heart dropped to her stomach. Had he been listening all along?
Oh dear God…
"Before…" His eyes closed in weariness, "When you thought I was asleep." When they reopened they were even darker.
"Oh…just a person I know…Knew." She corrected and his eyelids flickered as if he was holding them open with great effort.
"It is…" he started as he licked his lips and swallowed thickly, almost painfully, "a hard world." His voice was hoarse and if she wasn't so focused on his face, she would surely notice the dark, cutting edge in it.
Beatrice gave a small nod and his eyes lingered on her face, trying to study her, but she could see that he could not keep his eyelids open for long. He had to close them and then reopen them again and again.
"I shall get you some water now." She pulled away, setting the razor on the bedside table and reaching for the pitcher of water. She poured a glass and then turned to him, only to find his eyes closed.
"Sir?" she ventured quietly and they opened again. She smiled and brought the mug closer to his lips. His head rose and the moment the water touched his lips and tongue he gave a small moan of satisfaction. He drank the water quickly and Beatrice was momentarily scared that he would choke, but he didn't. His head fell back down on the pillow and he sighed, his chest heaving with his breaths.
"Would you like more?"
He answered her question with a shake of his head and then his eyes flickered open again.
"Ms. Avalon…" he started, "Thank you." He croaked and she smiled. She put the mug away and studied his clean shaven face with care, her smile broadening when she realized how different, how better he looked.
When her eyes moved away from his features she tensed up because he was staring at her oddly.
"It is…" He licked his lips, "an odd thing…"
She frowned, "What is?"
"The…" He raised his hand and with a single finger he pointed towards her, "rare occurrence of a smile…over something so useless…I…" he trailed off and his hand dropped onto the covers, "I don't deserve it…"
Beatrice's frown deepened, but she chose to ignore his words.
"Are you in any pain? The…wound on your chest looks better. I have tried to keep it clean with the help of Anthony, of course."
"Anthony?"
"Yes. The sailor who found you…" She nodded and his eyes drifted shut, when they reopened they were filled with various emotions.
"I am in pain…I…The worst is here…" He pressed the side of his head against the pillow and Beatrice slowly reached out to touch his temple. He inhaled sharply and moved his head out of her reach. She froze and quickly pulled her hand away.
"I'm sorry…I…If you have a headache I have medicine. If you feel up to it…"
"Later…later, I will…" He nodded and then his head fell to the side and he was unconscious again.
Once again, Beatrice had not time to ask for his name…
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Thank you for accompanying me, James. I can walk on my own now." Beatrice gently patted the young man's arm and he frowned.
"Alright…I…I suppose I should go back now…" He muttered and she nodded.
"And put more clothes on. This is too thin." She fingered his vest and he quickly nodded.
"Ma'am?" he called just as she was about to enter her cabin and she paused.
"James?"
He rubbed his head and then parted his lips, but nothing came out. Beatrice turned to face him fully and approached.
"What is it?" she asked softly and his lips moved then.
"Why are you getting married?"
She paused at that and then laughed a little, the sound echoing down the corridor.
"What kind of a question is that? It's…every woman's destination, of course." She replied, but James could not detect the mockery in her words. He was not able to.
"Oh…if you weren't…" he started and she nodded, "Would you marry me?"
The words were spoken with such innocence that she briefly wondered if James had any idea of how the world worked. She doubted it.
Taking a deep breath, she touched his roughened hand and looked into his bright green eyes.
"Of course I would." She replied and she was not being dishonest. James would be a much safer option, a far better one and she knew it.
His eyes lit up and he smiled, and she suddenly felt bad because she was aware of the fact that James…James would end up alone if Anthony ever took away the charity that was his friendship.
With a last pat on his hand, she turned and pulled out the key to her cabin. Her chest felt heavy because James was not considered good; he was considered foolish and naïve. Nobody knew that his foolishness and naivety were the two things that made him one of the few happy men in the world.
She listened to James' footsteps fade off as she walked inside the cabin and closed the door.
She was startled when she saw that the man on her bunk was awake and staring right across from him.
"Oh. Good evening." She put the bowl of food on the chair by the foot of the bed, but he didn't respond. He didn't even blink.
Only when she walked next to him and the bed did he blink. The vacant fog in his eyes dissolved as well and he moved his eyes away from the bulkhead.
"I have stolen your bed…"
Beatrice shook her head, "It is of no great consequence. I imagine you need it more than I do." She moved towards the water pitcher and poured water in his mug.
"I owe you my life…"
Beatrice went still for a moment, "No, sir. You owe it to God and Anthony." She smiled as she approached with the water.
The man's face changed then, an expression of utter distaste on his features and a snarl on his lips.
"God…I haven't thought of him in a long…long time." He breathed out, "God, has forgotten who I am, Miss."
Beatrice stared at him, "God never forgets. He just…wants to test us."
"Some men are not fit for martyrdom…The outcome is not always death." His gaze flickered to hers and the coldness in it made her shiver.
"I cannot…I don't know how to answer that." She started cautiously, "But I don't think you'd be alive if God didn't care for you."
The man's dark eyes narrowed and he studied her, "Has it…" he faltered and winced, "Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps we are God's amusement?"
She didn't reply.
"Or maybe that there is no God…That there is only men and their filthy creations?" he continued and she smiled sadly.
"Have you ever considered that some men are just not capable to understand life?"
He closed his eyes and a barely there twitch of his lips was enough to show her that he was amused.
"Have you ever considered that you are too young to know what life really is?" There was resignation and something sinister in his question and Beatrice knew that it was time to change the subject.
"Well, never judge a book by its cover, sir. If I did that, I'd be bombarding you with questions about the code on your wrist." She said lightly, without any real bite and his eyes snapped open. His features changed and they turned dark, shadowy and upset, but she didn't move a muscle.
He stared at her hard until his expression turned bleak again, empty.
"Forgive me, Ms. Avalon…I am not the best company…" He almost sighed before he continued, "I will also return your bunk as soon as I can."
Beatrice nodded, "We have not been properly introduced…You know my name, but I do not know yours. Call it compensation for all my trouble."
He shook his head from side to side and when he looked at her his expression was bare and raw.
"What a poor compensation…My name is of no great value…" He swallowed and raised his hand, his eyes on his branded wrist until he sighed.
"The name's Todd." He raised his eyes to hers, "Sweeney Todd."
Beatrice tried not to frown at the peculiar name and she slowly outstretched her hand for a shake.
His midnight eyes eyed her hand like it was the plague itself, but then his expression softened and his Adam's apple bobbed. His fingers twitched and just as she was ready to pull her hand away, his arm rose and those long pale fingers curled over her much smaller hand with force. She closed her own hand around his and she was shocked at how strong his hold was. She had been certain that he was too weak, too thin to possess such strength, but she had been wrong…Obviously…
He didn't linger at all and after a moment or two he pulled his hand back, placing it back on the mattress and curling his fingers into a fist, flexing them until he slowly released them.
Beatrice tried not to seem too shocked by his obvious reluctance to touch her and she stepped back.
"Um…I have brought some broth for you…I think it will do you good." She said uncomfortably as she turned towards the chair to pick up the bowl.
"Thank you…"
She turned towards him, "Can you sit up?"
"I can." He nodded his head decisively and placed his palms on the mattress on either side of his body. He winced and groaned, but sat up all the same. He raised his eyes to her and outstretched his hand.
She handed him the bowl and spoon and sat back, busying herself with something on the other side of the cabin.
A million thoughts were running through her mind, but she spoke none of them out loud.
"I suppose…I am trespassing upon this ship." His voice caused her to stop.
"Um…No one knows you're here…yet." She replied as she turned to him.
He was gazing at the broth, but he looked up at her at that.
"Yet?" he echoed with a deep murmur and she nodded her head.
"Yes-…"
A knock came on the door and Todd stiffened, his eyes wild as he gazed at the closed cabin door.
Beatrice placed a finger on her lips, motioning for him to remain silent before she walked towards the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Anthony, ma'am." The familiar voice called and she breathed a sigh of relief before she turned the lock and opened the door.
"You scared me." She breathed as she let him in, "I told you to knock three times. You almost gave me a heart attack." She shut the door and waved towards the bunk.
"I am sorry." Anthony apologized and as soon as he spotted Todd on the bunk, his eyes widened.
"Sir! You're awake." He exclaimed and the dark haired man eyed the youth, his features confused until a look of realization pushed the shadows of suspicion away.
"I…remember you…You pulled me up." Todd murmured as he looked at Anthony.
"Yes, sir. I am glad you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"
"I have felt better, son…But I am getting there." Todd's reply was stiff and Beatrice stepped in.
"Mr. Todd regained his senses a day ago. Mr. Todd, this is Anthony Hope." She patted Anthony's arm with affection and Todd's eyes followed the movement, saw the trust in her and he relaxed upon the bed.
Beatrice was surprised that he had to see her response in order to calm down. She tried not to think too much on it.
"A pleasure to meet you, sir." Anthony nodded his head and Todd stared at him-at them-before he swallowed hard.
"I owe my life to you; to both of you…What a burden I must have been. I ask for your forgiveness."
"Then you will be surprised to know that you owe your life to someone else too."
Todd frowned, "To whom?"
"Another sailor." Beatrice replied, "But it'd be better not to meet him yet…James is…" she trailed off and then shut her eyes, "He just talks a lot. If he meets you he won't be able to keep it a secret." She explained and Todd eyed her peculiarly.
"He talks a lot?" he murmured, broth forgotten, and Anthony cleared his throat.
"James is a bit weak in the…" He didn't finish, but placed his finger on his own temple and tapped it gently.
Todd's eyes narrowed in understanding and his head moved in a nod twice.
"I see."
Beatrice smiled and once again Todd was surprised by it.
"James can't help it, but he's kind."
"Yes, of course. He wouldn't harm a fly, sir." Anthony added and then frowned, "I suppose you need more clothes now. I shall bring you more tomorrow if you are fit to walk a bit." He turned to Beatrice, "We are making port in Italy in three days. Then we can introduce Mr. Todd to the Captain. Captain Avalon won't refuse to grant you a trip to London…or you could leave the ship earlier than that-…"
"Captain Avalon?" Todd cut him off and his sharp gaze focused on Beatrice.
She swallowed, "He's my father." She nodded her head and Todd gazed helplessly at his lap.
"Then my debt is greater. You've been lying to him because of me." He muttered and there was something odd in his tone, something akin to jealousy and envy.
Beatrice took a deep breath, "I assure you, Mr. Todd, I feel no remorse. You shouldn't either." She said abruptly and at his perplexed look she regretted speaking the words.
"Think nothing of it, sir. Beatrice is right. All you have to do is inform us of your destination." Anthony smiled and nodded.
Todd gazed at them with near disbelief, "But you're not worried of my roots."
Beatrice cleared her throat, "Never judge a book by its cover, remember?" she said quietly and Todd cocked an eyebrow.
"London," he spat with a glimmer in his eyes, "would be most convenient indeed." He said without taking his eyes off Beatrice.
She stared back and Anthony clapped his hands, "Very well. I will set our plan into motion when we arrive in Italy then. For the moment, I must return. I wish you a good recovery, sir." He nodded his head at Todd who pulled his eyes from Beatrice and looked at the young sailor.
"Thank you, son."
Anthony tipped his hat to Beatrice and carefully stepped out of the cabin.
"You should eat up." Beatrice pointed out as she turned away from the bunk.
"It's a curious thing, Ms. Avalon." Todd started quietly, his voice low and hoarse.
"What is?"
"That you can trust me after I put those bruises on your pretty neck." His words caused her to still and falter.
Slowly, she turned and faced him, "It's also a curious thing that you allowed me to shave you." She approached, "Are you sure you can trust me with your neck?" She cocked her head to the side, challenging him and the unimaginable happened. His lips twitched as if in slow motion and a barely there smile lit up his mouth.
It was gone in a moment and he turned to his broth, staring at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
"It's all in the eyes, Ms. Avalon." He said suddenly without looking at her, "Every secret…" His finger traced the bowl's rim, "Every wish, every emotion, every desire is right there." He tapped the side of the bowl with his fingertips, "Right in people's eyes." He looked up at her then and blinked, "Your eyes are sharp, cutting, suspicious, but there is no evil in them." He paused, "No evil, but so much hate…I wonder who is the recipient of such a strong emotion."
"Why do you?" she asked, "Wonder, that is." She added and he averted his gaze. He remained silent for a moment and when he did talk she immediately tensed up.
"Three thousand five hundred and four." He murmured and she swallowed hard as he raised his wrist and showed the numbers to her, "That's my identity; the only truth that can be found upon me. Do you still think you trust a man like me?" He asked her as he sharply lowered his hand.
Beatrice took a step closer, "Only time will tell. With God's help, of course." She added and he snarled.
"Take whatever comfort you can from God while you still can, child. You're still young." He murmured the last sentence and then shook his head, "You will learn in due time."
"What makes you think I haven't already?" She asked him, but she didn't wait for a reply. She turned and without looking back she disappeared into the small side cabin, pulling the drapes closed.
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The small house stood out among the others. It had a small garden. Her grandma had always loved lilies…And roses. Beatrice preferred white roses, but they never blossomed in their garden her grandmother had once said. A pity, but young Beatrice tried not to feel sad about it. She had pink roses…Lilies reminded her of her mother. Her mother had always smelled like a fresh bouquet of lilies.
It was no wonder that their house was so different. All the homes in London were dark and morbid…Especially the ones dear the docks. Among the filth, seawater and dirt Mrs. Morgan's garden stood out, the scents bringing the aura of spring with them
Beatrice plucked a flower and giggled, pushing her hair behind her ear as she brought the rose to her nose and took a deep whiff.
The smell of freshly baked bread reached her nostrils and she squealed in delight, ready to run back inside, but a voice made her halt.
"Bea!"
She froze and her green eyes widened in alarm.
No...Not possible…
"Bea, my love!"
Slowly, she turned to face the fence and she locked eyes with the man standing a few feet away. Her father had always been handsome, but now he looked ragged and tired.
Beatrice took a step back in disbelief. He…he couldn't be there…he…They took him away that night…He had disappeared…he…
"Bea, I am back." He reached out and opened the iron door, waling inside her grandmother's precious garden with his dirty shoes and…
Her little eyes narrowed when he touched a lily. He…he shouldn't touch them. He had no right. Those were her mommy's…He couldn't. He just couldn't.
"Come here, Bea. I've missed you." He leaned down and Beatrice flew back and away from him with a tiny whimper.
Her foot stumbled on a low stool and she fell down, but quickly stood up.
"Who is there?" Her grandmother's voice rang around them and Beatrice's eyes widened.
No. No, she could smell it on him. What if…What if he had come for her grandmother? No…Oh God, why was he back? They…they had taken him and now he was back! How had they let him come back? He had her hurt her mother. Her mother would no longer smell of lilies because of him…Her mother would never wake because of him.
His hand curled around her thin wrist and she cried out suddenly, trying in vain to wrench herself away from him.
He released her with shock and she grabbed at the opportunity. She turned and headed back towards the house, closing and bolting the door on his face.
"Bea?" His voice sounded distant and the fact did nothing to ease the tears that had started sliding down her pale cheeks.
"Beatrice? Beatrice, what's wrong?"
Her grandmother's hands were soft on her shoulders and she turned around, pressing her face against the white fabric of her grandmother's apron in an attempt to hide from the world.
"Sweetheart, what is it-…"
The sharp knock on the door caused Beatrice to let out a scream of fear, but it didn't stop. The knocking continued until Beatrice was screaming her throat raw. Hot tears were running down her cheeks and she kept sobbing and screaming because he had done it again. He had managed to shatter her world once again. The world she had so painfully put together after so long-…
Her eyes snapped open and she gasped for breath as tears clouded her vision and made breathing a chore. She blinked, trying to see clearly and through her haze, her green eyes locked with Todd's dark ones. She nearly choked on her own saliva and quickly drew her hands across her eyes, wiping the evidence of her dream away.
She averted her eyes, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and mortification, but his gaze did not falter.
When she looked up again, she realized that there was no emotion on his face apart from a tiny speck of clarity. He suddenly broke the eye contact and closed his eyes again, turning onto his side and leaving her alone with her ghosts and memories. She had never been more thankful of silence. Ever.
End of chapter 3
Author's note: Yeah…ahem. Thank you so much for reading! Liked it? Hated it? Any idea why Sweeney was surprised by her name? Hmm?Please let me know of your thoughts! Comments feed the muse! :D
Until next time, loves!
Xxx Lina ;o)
