Hello! I hope you've all been well! Here's the newest installment of Sweeney's Opportunity!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd or Edward Scissorhands.


Chapter 9: Observations and Escapes

Thursday morning and afternoon's air was saturated in an anticipation that nearly choked all the unsuspecting customers who entered the shop that day. They seemed suspicious but were content to blame the atmosphere on Mrs. Lovett's very good mood; she was practically skipping around the shop. Sweeney on the other hand acted like he didn't have an odd tightening feeling in his stomach…excitement? Whatever it was he paid it no mind.

Edward also acted like nothing was going on; then again, he didn't know what tonight was going to bring. The only thing that could be seen as a little off-putting was the fact that he had been asked to work in the barber shop all day which different from his usual evening shifts that he had become accustom to. Toby was so absorbed in his little schemes to sneak bottles of gin without being caught and barely noticed anything that wasn't obvious so the atmospheric tension was lost on him. That didn't, however, mean Mr. Todd would get that much luck. His life after all, seemed to be a bit on the fictitious side and that meant Toby noticed something.

Toby noticed a lot of things; the random occasional thumps heard from the bake house as he passed the door which he would brush off as unstable lumps of meat falling off each other. As time wore on, he began to notice the random, unimportant thumps were getting more and more occasional when Mr. Todd was in a foul mood. Another strange thing was the empty haunted look in Mrs. Lovett's eyes when she would return from the bake house. It wasn't there long and was replaced by steel as she held her head up and carried on with her day; nevertheless, it had still been there. But most importantly, some of the men who ascended the stairs to the barber's lair never came back. After assembling these incidents as suspicious activities, he decided to have a little chat with his dear mum.

Upstairs was a slightly different story, however. The room was filled with anxiety more than anticipation. The customers had a strange inclination something might be amiss but quickly forgot it when they sensed the aura of confidence around Sweeney; fake confidence to put on a show for customers, but confidence nonetheless.

As the lunch rush faded and the shop was haunted by the time between tw0 and five which were the shop's witching hours seeing as only a couple handfuls of people managed to find their way in. This of course was Toby's chance to tell his mum about his feelings and suspicions toward Mr. Todd.

"Mum, can I speak to you for a moment?" Toby asked as one of the handfuls of people left the shop without any outliers hanging around.

"Of course Toby," she replied, "just meet me in the parlor; I'll be there in a minute."

"All right." he replied and made his way to the room she had mentioned and sat down on the floor, staring at the fireplace not unlike Mr. T while trying to decide the best way to approach this touchy subject with her. Barely five minutes had passed as Mrs. Lovett entered the parlor having (or rather hoping she didn't) no idea what her boy wanted to discuss with her.

"What do you want to talk to me about, dearie?" She asked with a bright smile. Toby mustered up all the courage his fragile frame could handle and said,

"It's about Mr. T."

"Oh? What about 'im?" she asked cheerily; quite the opposite of how she felt, however, considering the nervous look on Toby's face, what he was about to tell her was not good.

"Well…" He replied, looking around the room nervously.

"C'mon, I don't bite." Her voice wavered slightly at the end but the boy was too nervous to notice.

"Well…erm…" his eye movement became more rapid by the second."

"Toby…" Mrs. L said, trying to get whatever it was he wanted to say out of him.

"Well-it's just-.T." he said hurriedly and eyes finally resting on the floor.

"Love, slow down," Mrs. Lovett said soothingly and tilted his head up to look at her, "now tell me what it is you wanted to say."

"Mr.T, there is something with him." Nellie closed her eyes and shook her head and said exasperatedly,

"We 'ave been over this."

"I'm serious! There really is something wrong with him!" Toby insisted.

"Toby, I don't 'ave time for this," she told him sternly, "Mr.T's been so good to us. How could you even think of such a thing?" She stood up and turned her back to him, about to take a step away from the boy who almost knew too much for his own good when she heard the words that would seal his fate.

"But I have proof!" She froze. Proof? How could he have proof? It's not like he's allowed in the bake house so he couldn't have seen anything. Maybe it's just him being his ever emotional self and all the proof is in his head. She turned around and pasted on the best shocked face.

"Proof? Proof of what?"

"That there is something wrong with him!"

"You can't have proof for something that isn't true, dear."

"But it is!" he insisted, "Just please hear me out." Nellie hesitated.

"Please?"

"If it will make you happy." Mrs. Lovett gave in and decided to hear her boy out. She returned to her spot on the settee and patted her knee just as Sweeney had a mere twenty four hours prior. "C'mon, love. If you're going to tell me silly theories than we might as well be comfortable." Toby walked over to his mum with a slight frown and furrowing of his brows. Once they were settled in, he jumped right into it.


"Mr. Todd, Mr. Todd!" Nellie said frantically as she entered the shop. She was about to start spewing her concerns about Toby when she spotted Edward and changed the direction of her attention to him.

"'Ello Edward, dear. Just the person I was looking for." Her blatant lie and change in attitude either went unnoticed or was ignored by Edward.

"Hello. You were looking for me?" He asked in his usual innocent tone. The time that that sweet tone of his could last was running out and Nellie had no idea how to stop it, regretting what he'll soon find out and what she might have to do.
"Yes, dear. I was wondering if you could help Toby in the shop right now." she smiled, knowing full well that was not the reason she wanted him to leave.

"Mr. Todd told me to stay up here with him." Edward said, not wanting to upset the barber.

"It' not a problem Edward, there isn't anyone here." Sweeney assured him.

"Well if it's ok…" Edward mumbled.

"Go help Toby downstairs, Edward." Sweeney said again, this time the young man listened to him.

"By Mr. Todd, by Mrs. Lovett." Edward waved and padded out of the still open door.

As soon as Edward's hair disappeared around the corner Sweeney spoke with worry.

"What is it pet? What's the matter?"

"Toby." She said "He knows."

"Knows what?"

"Everything!" She burst into near hysterics, "He knows about the shop and the pies and me and you and oh Sweeney, what do we do?" Sweeney knew this would happen as soon as she brought that boy home.

"You know what we have to do Nellie, what we've always had to do from the moment you brought him in." He told her gently, "He needs to go, and you need to make him leave." She knew he wasn't taking about leaving. Death. Death and murder was what secretly passed his lips only to be picks up by those who knew him best, or as best as anyone really could.

"You mean..."she trailed off holding onto a last bit of hope that she was delusional and wasn't asking this of her.

"I'm afraid so pet. It is not safe for him anymore now that he knows the truth."

"Well he doesn't know specifics."

"What do you mean he doesn't know the specifics?"

"He just...feels that there is something off about you. He speculates-"

"Speculates." He spat, "Speculation is enough to get you an unfair trial and a sentence in this town, it's like a 15th century witch hunt."

"It doesn't have to be. We can still get rid of the judge tonight, he doesn't get to live another day because Toby has a bad feeling about you."

"But the boy does have to go, you know that Nellie." Reminding her of the fate sealed envelope that held Toby's life, reminding her that she was the fate that had sealed the envelope.

"But that's just it, he doesn't! We could run away, far away, to the sea and be a family and be happy! No more murder, no more misery, just us and the waves and the sand." She tried to reason.

He looked at her with pity in his eyes,

"You know that can never happen Nellie, not now and not ever; he has to go."

"I just love the boy; I'd hate to do that to him." Tears glistened in her eyes. Sweeney lifted her head up with his index finger,

"Nellie, if you really love the boy do you want him to leave with his sanity or see him live with the mind twisting knowledge of what we've become?"
She thought about it for what seemed like a lifetime before she finally spoke, sounding defeated but defiant.

"No." The decision broke her heart more than she would let herself admit until the opportune moment, the moment to kill. By the time she had to do what was necessary the idea and feelings would have brewed in her subconscious long enough to make herself numb. She had to be numb, otherwise there would be no steeling of the eyes, no final tear and no whispered apology at the end of it; it could never happen if she wasn't numb.

"What about Edward?" Sweeney asked the quietly distraught woman, "Does he know anything about this?"

"Edward? I doubt it dear; the silly thing goes along with whatever we say without question, you know that." Nellie laughed without humor.

"The boy could've told him his suspicions and taken them and their conspiracy at face value." he reasoned.

"No, Edward would never believe such a thing; he's much too innocent to even think of such things!"

"So just the boy, then?" Sweeney's question was void of emotion; Mrs. Lovett replied hollowly,

"Yes…just Toby."


Anthony awoke groggily, head pounding and body aching. Sitting up slowly as to not aggravate any of his possibly serious injuries, memories flooded back; the grogginess dissipating as adrenaline took its place: Judge Turpin's mansion, the carriage, Johanna, Fogg's asylum, Beadle and the cloud of darkness that engulfed his senses.

He surveyed his surroundings; taking in the bookshelves lining the walls and the thick Persian rug beneath him. They looked familiar and gave him the vibe that this room had negative feelings associated with it. Then he remembered: this was the room Turpin had threatened him in; he was in Judge Turpin's house. Taking an inventory of his injuries and confirming that none of them were life threatening, Anthony strained his ears for any signs of life. Sensing none, he crept to the door and opened it a crack, just enough for Turpin's hand to snake its way to the door's side and clutch it tightly enough to turn his already pale knuckles a shade whiter. He pulled the door open slowly,

"Going somewhere?" Turpin asked in his slow, dangerous drawl.

"N-n-" Anthony stuttered; fear clamping his throat shut.

"No, I thought not." He replied then called over his shoulder, "Beadle, the rope please." In an instant the greasy lackey appeared with a thick nine foot rope and handed it to his slimy employer; Anthony was horrified.

"Looks like you're being a bit too difficult, but don't worry; we have just the thing for that." Turpin said and threw the rope over Anthony's head and pulled it when it was level with his chest, pulling him back. His back collided with Turpin's chest and before he could twitch a finger, his wrists had been tied together. Anthony threw back his head and it made a satisfying crunch as it found cartilage.

"You insolent boy!" Turpin hissed, blood dripping into Anthony's hair, "Johanna is mine. She doesn't want you. Leave her be!" Anthony struggled, trying to twist his way out of the Judge's grasp but only caused the rope to bite into his skin even more.

Despite his struggles, the Judge managed to pin him to the wall.

"Now be a good little sailor and stay put," Turpin spat, throwing Anthony to the ground. Wiping his hands on his leather manteau to rid them of the sailor's grime, Turpin turned and walked out with a simple "Come, Beadle," before the door was shut and locked.

"Ugh," Anthony groaned and brought himself to his feet. The room looked the same as it had when Turpin first told him to stay away from Johanna, with its musty bookshelves towering over him and elegant furnishings scattered about, it was an intimidating room to be trapped in.

First thing's first, I need to get out of these ropes. Anthony thought. He scanned the room looking for anything that could tear through the tough fibers of rope; a knife, a sharp table corner, anything. A walk around the room revealed nothing sharper than the corners on a pillow.

Anthony stopped walking and sighed,

If I never get out of here, who knows what Turpin will do to me…or what will happen to Johanna.

Out of anger and frustration at his current situation, he kicked the object nearest to him, which happened to be a mahogany end table. It flipped backwards and landed a couple feet away on its top, causing the small draw to slide open and spill the contents to the floor. Breathing deeply so as to try to calm himself, Anthony went to turn the table right side up when a silvery glint from the floor caught his eye; it was a long, silver letter opener.

Crouching two steps in front of the blade so his tied hands could reach, Anthony found the handle and carefully picked it up from the ground so as to not slice himself with the blade.

Of course, he thought, even the monster's letter opener is lethal.

"Got it!" he exclaimed and straightened back into a standing position, "Now to get out of these ropes."

With an upward turn of his wrist, Anthony started cutting away at the thick brown twine.

After a couple minutes and several gashes, Anthony managed to free his now-raw wrists from the constricting cord.

"Thank God," he sighed and slipped the weapon in his sleeve for safe keeping. Never know when you're going to need a weapon, and being kidnapped raised the suspicion I might need one.

But how to get out of this room…" He looked around the room again and spotted an exit opportunity.

There were two large windows present where the line of monstrous bookshelves ended that were covered by thick, red velvet curtains clutching ornate iron rods. He moved the heavy fabric aside and peered out of the hand-blown glass panes to be greeted with black bars.

"Damn!" Anthony cursed, and let the drape fall back into place. He needed a way out and the prison-like bars on the windows reminded him just what could happen to him if he didn't. Anthony moved from the window and towards the door, focusing on the lock.

If I could pick that lock, all I would have to do is sneak back out of this place and find Johanna.

Anthony searched his pockets; first the right then the left and finally his inside jacket pocket. The two slim metal tools felt cool to his touch and reassured him his-and Johanna's-dreams were going to come true soon. Thank God I always carry my lock picking tools with me.

He positioned the tools in the lock and fidgeted them for a moment before the lock clicked.

"I've still got it," Anthony muttered and opened the door a crack, checking for anyone that could be around, even if they aren't Turpin or Beadle.

There seemed to be a limited amount of staff as Anthony ducked through halls and doorways and Turpin was nowhere to be found.

They must not kidnap people often or they would have rightly made someone watch me.

After a few minutes of wandering, Anthony could see the heavy front door until something stepped over to block his view.

"Hello, boy," Beadle greeted in his horrible, nasally voice, "leaving are you?"

"Actually I am; so if you could just step aside, I'd be happy to leave your presence," Anthony replied with as much bravery as someone could who had just run into one of his captors.

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen…" Beadle took one step forward and raised his walking stick over his head but Anthony was quicker and let the letter opener drop into his right hand from his sleeve and stabbed him in the stomach.

"Ahh!" Beadle cried and looked down in shock at the letter opener protruding from his soft flesh.

Anthony pushed the bleeding man out of the way and bolted for the door. Grabbing the knob and pulling the door with all his might, it didn't budge. The door was locked, but Beadle was still on the floor in pain, which gave Anthony a small window of time to unlock the door.

He pulled out his tools and began working on the lock, which was clearly more sophisticated than the one on the drawing room door.

"I'll get you, boy," Beadle threatened through gritted teeth as he started to turn over onto his hands and knees.

"There's no way in Hell I'll let you keep me here."

The lock was close to clicking when he noticed Beadle crawling towards him, agonizingly slow, on his hands and knees.

"The only escape is death, and even that isn't a guarantee," Beadle said forcefully.

Anthony knew his window was closing as Beadle got closer, his gloved hand outstretched inches away from his right ankle. He was so close to being free; if only his nerves would quiet and stop his hands from shaking he could unlock the prison gates.

"I'd rather be dead than stay here and rot," Anthony spat. Just a bit more time.

"Trust me boy, Judge Turpin won't keep you in this world long enough to rot, I can assure you of that," Blood was beginning to trickle down the side of Beadle's mouth, his breathing becoming shallower and his voice getting fainter with each word.

"And I assure you that I won't be around to find out," Anthony said with confidence as the lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

The run from Turpin's to Fogg's Asylum was a blur of streets, roads, buildings and horrible flashbacks to that drawing room. Anthony caught his breath outside the mental hospital (if you could call it a hospital at all) and cleared his mind of everything but what need to be done.

Johanna, I'm coming for you.


I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and as usual, if you see any errors or have any questions feel free to PM me about them! There is only one more chapter left to this story and thank you to all of you who have stuck by me from the beginning!

Please review my lovelies! :)