Sweeney
Sweeney could see Nellie getting jumpier and jumpier as the moved along. She took short, twitchy steps and gasped at every little noise, clearly eager to leave this place.
He didn't know what she was worried about. She was already dead, not to mention invisible... it never occurred to him that for once she wasn't thinking of herself.
Glancing into one of the small barred windows, he determined that the room was full of blond women in various states of terror, and was about to move on, when a sunny little head in the back caught his eye.
He moved back to the window, taking a longer look. It couldn't be-- Lucy?
No, she was too young to be Lucy, but...
"Mr. T! Hide, now, someone's comin'!" She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a little alcove.
"Yes, sir, I take great pride in the 'air qual'ty of my children. We've got redheads 'ere... brunettes... ah, the blonds. My personal fav'rite, sir." A key turned in the lock and a greasy little man bowed in a taller one, dressed splendidly in blue silk. The tall man held out a gloved hand to stop him.
"Sir, I think now is the time to make my true intentions clear-"
"Ah, my dear Mr. Brown, I know just what you mean... Come in, come in, and choose your pleasure."
Nellie looked sick.
"Disgusting," she whispered. Sweeney shushed her.
"I won't come, I won't come! No!" A young girl's voice, hoarse with disuse, echoed from the blond room.
"You will come, girl, or I'll drive these scissors right through your addled little brains!"
"No! Help, help-" Her voice was cut off, as if someone had pressed a hand over her mouth, leaving only muffled screeches.
The tall man walked out first, then waited for Mr. Fogg, who had his arms clamped tightly around a struggling girl, bright yellow hair flying around her face as she thrashed.
"Mrs. Lovett- it's Johanna- I know it is!" Nellie flung out a hand to stop him, but too late... he had already thrown himself at Fogg.
"Get off her!" he roared, not caring that his razors were gone, not caring that his head was spinning, just wanting his beautiful daughter free of his arms.
Startled, the tall man whipped a pistol from his belt and took aim.
"Sir- sir, I shall have you arrested- stop this immediately!" Nellie's hands flew to her mouth and she screamed as a bullet left the pistol.
Nellie
Time seemed to slow as she helplessly watched a bullet speed at her dear beloved Sweeney... if she'd been alive, she would have thrown herself in front of it without hesitation. On instinct, she did, but of course the bullet just passed through her and on to Sweeney...
Time snapped back into place as scarlet blood erupted and a pain-filled scream ripped the air. But it wasn't Nellie's-- she was torn between overwhelming joy and horror as Mr. Fogg dropped the girl on the ground and Sweeney fell to his knees beside her, staining his shirt as he held her close.
"Sweeney!" she screamed. Fogg was advancing on him, trembling, his rusty scissors held high. The tall man had long since fled. Sweeney looked up and snatched the scissors from Fogg's grip, driving them into the asylum owner's heart with a yell of fury and grief. He fell to the ground, adding more blood to the mess as he died. Sweeney looked over to Nellie with desperate, mad eyes.
"Mrs. Lovett, it's Johanna... it's my daughter... My God, she looks just like Lucy... just like her..."
"Mr. T, I'm so sorry-" Nellie's voice broke as the tears started to come. "But love, we gotta go now. People'll be comin', someone will see you..." He seemed to wake up a little, kissing Johanna's face and laying her tenderly in the alcove where he had just been hiding.
"My razors," he said, groaning as he stood up and swayed dangerously. Nellie steadied him with a cold hand on his back. She didn't want to leave him any less than she wanted to stay in this dreadful place, but after all, she was safe here and it seemed the only way to get him out...
"Go on 'ome, love, take the back alleys an' side streets, keep yer 'ead down. I'll stay an' find yer razors." She tried not to think about how tiring it would be to keep her hands solid enough to carry the razors all the way home.
Sweeney nodded mutely, and took a few unsteady steps.
"You can make it, Mr. T," she whispered, giving him a strange, ghostly hug that mostly just made him feel cold. But it cleared his head, and he nodded to her again before making his way down the hallway.
Just to be clear, Anthony does not exist in this story, so Sweeney never knew where his daughter was after Turpin died. Let me know what you think :D
