Ye Gods! I cannot express my apologies for this terribly long gap in between chapters! Nor can I express my thanks for the followers and likers!
But I'm back and updates will definitely be much more frequent. My evil plan is forming slowly! Mwahaha!
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Toby knew he had to pick up the pace. He knew what would happen if he was late getting back, if Mrs Lovett knew he had gone.
But he had to visit her.
"How much time?"
He whispered the words, having made his way back to the workhouse where he used to make his living. Back to the first bit of care he had ever experienced.
She shook her head, white curls bobbing gently.
"Not long. You best take this."
She handed him a bottle with her shaking hands. Time had worn those hands. Time. He had to hurry up...
He forced the overwhelming swell in his throat downwards. It diminished.
"T-thank you, ma'am. I'll make sure to use it up."
She granted him a sad smile.
"I hope you will."
He tried his best to translate feelings into words, but too much was happening. Toby was terrified.
He lent a small, but well-meant hug to the woman. He stumbled his thanks once more, slipped the bottle into his coat pocket, and bolted for the street corner.
"E's not there."
Mrs Lovett let her own words fully enter her mind. They led a sort of chain reaction, rippling slowly outward, alerting, telling herself what she dreaded.
"Sweeney, e's not there."
The barber's eyes seemed to be drawn towards the ground. It wasn't his fault.
Mrs Lovett clenched his arm, turning to face him. "Look- at- me!" With every pause, she shook him a bit. He took small notice and tilted his head a bit.
"If you would've been a tiny bit selfless, we would've gotten here sooner, and the boy wouldn't be gone!" She knew it was stupid, but blaming herself wasn't something she was in the mood for.
Sweeney wasn't phased, but he brought his head up a little more, feeling stirred enough to manage a response. "This isn't my doing."
The baker snorted.
"Oh, alright, so you're saying that if I would've been more commandin' wiv you, then Toby would still be 'ere! Oh, I've tried that many times, but usually you're about as responsive as a rock!"
Her quiet aquantience frowned at this, then twisted his mouth into a hint of a smirk. "I'll respond, then."
With that, he turned and made his way back down the street.
Anger bubbled and boiled through every inch of the baker at that point. Toby was gone, and now so was Sweeney.
"That ain't important right now," she breathed quietly. She set off into the busy market to find Toby.
The noise, the colours, and the commotion was completely overwhelming. Such an atmosphere this was, that the baker reluctantly doubted she would locate the boy anytime soon. That sick, heavy feeling set in again as she picked apart all the faces in the crowd.
"Toby! You over here?"
Her voice was nothing to the mass crowd. Yelling wasn't going to help her here.
Luckily she didn't have to make efforts for much longer.
A parade of relief flooded through her as Toby came running from around a nearby corner. He spotted her quickly, making a maze through the given labyrinth of people. He ran into her, both of them giving into a tight hug.
"Toby! What 'appened to ya, love? I was worried sick, I was!" Mrs Lovett smudged some dirt off the boy's face, and let her eyes display the motherly instinct that was taking over. "You've got dirt all over... Oh, I'm just glad I could find you in such a riot!"
Toby was glad as well. "I'm awful sorry, ma'am! I really am! I-"
Toby paused, stuttering and tripping on the emotions clearly exposed in the baker's eyes. What would he say? He surely couldn't tell her about the bottle, yet lying to her was something he had sworn never to do.
"I... Uh..."
"What's pesterin' you so much, love?"
Mrs Lovett kept her eyes on his, subconsciously smoothing his coat out, which was rather filthy. She startled though when her hand hit something.
"Toby, what's this?"
Mrs Lovett pulled a small, glass bottle out of Toby's left pocket. The boy tried to swipe it back, but she had already read the label with a steady gasp.
"Arsenic?"
She drew a blank, but it was for she didn't know which of the many thoughts to believe.
"Toby, why do you have this?" Mrs Lovett hoped frantically he would answer in her desired way.
He didn't. He didn't make a noise. Right then, guilt was filling him up to the brim, threatening to control whatever might've slipped out of his mouth next.
He wasn't answering. Mrs Lovett gasped, lowering her voice suddenly. One would have to strain terribly to hear her next conclusion.
"Toby... Were you gonna use this on Mr Todd?"
The boy's eyes welled. He didn't move a muscle.
Bombs, rocks, and an assortment of other heavy objects dropped inside of Mrs Lovett when Toby didn't utter a word. What was she to do? Punish him? There wasn't much point in that. She wasn't even sure she was angry. She wasn't really sure what she was at all. But following Sweeney's pattern, anger seemed the best option.
"Tobias Ragg... What were you thinkin!?"
" You're sayin' you were gonna go waltzing off to poison Mr Todd with this? Do you know how irresponsible such a thing is?"
Toby didn't know what to do. Here he was, lying with his silence. But the truth was no option either.
"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. I dunno what I was thinkin'."
"Yeah, neither do I." Mrs Lovett left the bottle on the streets, shattered seconds later by one of the many people walking through the markets. The deadly fluid was gone, diluted into the muddy streets of London, leaked down into the sewers to make corpses of unlucky rats.
Toby swept the floors with a tornado-like force. He was panicking. That bottle was his only hope, the last resort, the plan C. He wish Mrs Lovett knew. Oh, if she knew, she would never have touched that bottle. She would've given it right back to him, made him drink it all. But he couldn't tell her. If he did, she would try delaying the inevitable. That would've most definitely ruined his plans. This way it was better.
The end for one, the beginning for another.
