Esteemed Malevolence

A Chance at Co-operation

Trains of startled guests fled from the chiselled steps of the Judge's porch - women screamed despite not knowing what was going on, men shoved against one another as they bounced about through the stream of people. Everyone ricocheted off of one another, only adding to the mayhem surrounding them.

Sweeney was amongst the frenzy, carrying Eleanor tightly as he headed towards the direction of Fleet Street.

When people dispersed a bit more, they managed to gain a few more feet of space around them.

The shattering of glass fragments and dense grazing of stone bricks panicked the crowd around them both again, causing everyone to speed up in an attempt to escape from whatever they believed was chasing them all.

This time there was less shoving and more running, the upper class guests may as well have been startled sheep as they ignorantly barged past the demon barber from all directions. He briefly paused, waiting for the madness around them to subside, seeing as there was no way the two of them could get anywhere otherwise.

Eleanor raised her head from where it had been buried in the nook of his shoulder, searching his eyes when she peered at him with dread. He returned her stare immediately, his stoic façade reminiscent of an unbothered soldier who was merely doing his duty. She opened her mouth, the concerned expression on her face already causing him to feel a surge of annoyance - he'd purposely suppressed revealing certain things all night to keep her from becoming preoccupied, yet he hadn't been able to stop something spontaneous from startling her.

He couldn't stop the bloody woman from worrying, it seemed, even if he wasn't the direct cause.

"Don't." he spoke lightly, yet gruffly as he brought his head down closer to her so that she was able to hear him clearer. "Don't say a word. Not until we are out of this, understand? Not one word, Mrs Lovett. You 'ear me?"

He recognised the fearful tears that coated her irises as she nodded at him. Tears that he'd seen when he'd often thrown her against the wall of his parlour, tears that had made him feel powerful - yet he didn't find himself feeling so pleased with himself now that she was silently pleading for him to take her away from whatever mess they'd stumbled into.

From both her silence and the shock that had struck over her features, he was certain that he could trust her to obey him.

With her hands grappled around his neck and his arms holding her up securely, he propelled himself forwards, barging diagonally through the flow of distressed people.

Eleanor clung onto him tightly - if it had been any other situation, she'd have been more than blushing from where he'd placed his hands in order to carry her, yet she was too concerned to notice. She buried her head beneath his chin, squeezing her eyes shut, attempting to block out the noise of squabbling shouts and frantic footsteps firing off around her.

She must have shut herself off to sleep at some point, because the next time she opened her eyes, there was no sign of the people crammed in around them both - only spacious cobbles and for once, the comforting coldness of the winter air. Considering the two of them had abandoned their overcoats, it was more than a bitter chill.

She pretended she was still dozing, just so that she had the excuse to keep her head close to Sweeney - the sound of him panting out (he'd halted jogging just before she'd woken) was somewhat comforting too.

In her mind, she attempted to make sense of what had just happened, yet nothing she came up with seemed a plausible explanation. His brain was also reeling with the same questions, yet his confusion didn't quite reach his features.

Mrs Lovett wasn't quite sure where they were now. Considering that her eyes were intently distracted with the sight of the black hair that fell across his pale skin... she wasn't really coherent enough to establish anything.

Mr Todd had his eagle-eyes fixated on the path ahead, and they darted about to search for anyone who attempted to be some sort of threat. Most people that they passed gave them a quizzical look - given that it was night-time and the two of them appeared slightly on edge, they were bound to attract some attention.

He trailed his eyes down to the frost-glazed cobbles, teeth clenching as he felt her nuzzling her nose over the side of his neck.

It seemed that now he recalled missing another perfectly good opportunity at killing the Judge, every minor annoyance that he habitually overlooked itched away at him.

Even if he did despise himself for not getting on and completing his vengeance, he hoped that the disgusting pest had at least had a well deserved fright from whatever those thuds of feet and throaty screeches entailed. Considering the guests' reactions, he could only dream about the look of shear fear on the loathsome Judge's face.

Eleanor whimpered with discomfort at the feel of his fingers hooking into her skin - his actions caused him to hold her body closer, and tighter. All the visions of his adversary's throat spitting out droplets of blood had led him back into his land of wrathful purpose. He was completely unaware that the woman he was grasping onto was actually the one on the receiving end of the physical effects from the thoughts that plagued his mind.

Hell, if the barber managed to roil himself up so much due to his vengeance-filled visions, once he finally seized the Judge's throat in his bare hands - he'd probably be bouncing off the walls with elation.

His thought-pattern had blinded him for quite some time - it must have been a while, because the next turning in front of them led on to Fleet Street...

... a place that even he was slightly glad to come back to at this point.

Knowing too well that there would be prying eyes of so-called neighbours around that corner, he brought his head down a bit further, resting his chin into her hair. She didn't make a sound, but her eyes fluttered shut and her eyebrows pinched together due to his movements.

She wondered whether she should decipher something from the way he was holding her now. It was clear that her shock had slightly faded considering she was thinking about the feel of his grasp far too much.

He continued to tightly carry her, finally setting foot on the familiar cobbles that streamed with tragic red ribbons of bloodshed - even then it was there, as he risked a glance down into the gutter. Unfortunately, the sight of blood had become a common one, so he quickly shifted his gaze away, pretending he hadn't seen a thing.

It didn't stop him from questioning what the source of the bleeding was...

"Almost there." he breathed out, the sound of his whisper dispersing through her strands of hair to greet her ears. She stirred, finally lifting her head up to peer at him directly - he didn't acknowledge her gaze, his attention was still fixated on the street ahead.

She was dying to catch his lips with her own, just so that she knew she could give him some form of comfort. But from the emptiness in his eyes, she decided against it... he wasn't in the mood to give her any of his attention.

She studied his features, then slowly turned her head, attempting to follow the direction of his gaze...

It led to their premises.

His beloved slaughterhouse for the welcomed souls of sinners loomed over her deserted emporium, and both of them found the viewpoint strange. It was almost as if they were peering at the outside of their daily lives, delving into the perspective of the clueless stranger. From the unnerving and intimidating appearance of their establishments alone, they were both amazed at how no one had caught onto the macabre scheme that they were carrying out yet.

If they discounted Eva Fiori, of course.

In that moment, they were both subconsciously aware of just how evil the two of them were together. Even though neither of them spoke, their wickedness slithered into their previously panicked or vacant channels of thought, forcing them to focus on what they had together - relationship aside, they had a successful, fully-functioning greet, meat then eat...

And that tall, ghastly sight of their death-factory was enough to settle their overwhelmed minds, and provoke smirks that touched upon both pairs of grey lips... yet ones that only lasted for a few split seconds - they were quickly replaced with invisible veils of fear or misery, before they allowed the cracks of their true nature to break and consume them entirely.

Sweeney's consistent pace had caused him to reach the curb outside her shop, and for a moment he appeared to be disorientated. He shook his head, pushing the feeling away.

Without a word, he placed Eleanor down on the ground over-cautiously, the fingertips that had been holding onto her legs lingering far longer than she had expected. He ensured that each of her feet were planted on the ground properly, holding her still in case she felt dizzy. He knew how powerful shock could be.

He slowly stood up, briefly glancing at her - but he tore away once he realised she was adjusting the front of her dress now that she had the chance.

"We'll talk 'bout everythin' in the mornin'." he finally spoke, sounding disinterested but it was clear that his mask was fully shielding his true feelings.

"Wot? The mornin'?! Wai - "

He turned away and peered down at the ground in front of him, clearly headed towards the stairs to his parlour.

"Wait!" she cried out, the sound of clicking heels telling him she was probably following him. "You... didn't 'ave ta 'elp me."

He paused, head briefly acknowledging her as he tilted it to peer over his shoulder.

"I know that." he said, voice incredibly quiet and his face sincere as ever.

As she took a step towards him, he swerved around to face her, wearing a deeply puzzled frown.

"Why d'ya wanna just up an' leave?" she asked quietly, her chocolate eyes searching his for some kind of answer, because she knew he wasn't going to give a verbal one. "I 'aven't even 'ad a chance t' thank you yet."

He stood motionlessly, his eyes staring back at her without a glimmer of readable emotion.

She huffed, dropping her gaze to her feet, realising that there was no way of getting through to him. She knew he was probably relaying the chances he'd had at slitting the Judge's throat in his mind, only to kick himself internally now that all chances were lost.

As she observed him staring through her like she was a cloud of air, a small shadow of a young boy came into view from the entrance to Bell Court. He clung his grubby little hands around the stem of a public gas lamp, watching the scene with intrigued brown eyes.

Toby hadn't anticipated them both having their businesses shut that evening - he wasn't the smartest boy, but he could deduce where they had been due to their formal state of dress, not to mention the time they had arrived at, on Mrs Lovett's doorstep.

He gulped and bashfully scratched his head of spiky brown hair when his eyes rested on Mr Todd. He was in dire need to approach Eleanor Lovett, but he couldn't possibly muster the courage to do so, given the presence of the sinister barber.

He recalled how Mrs Lovett used to tend the man to no end, not even rewarded with a grateful glance in return. It had shocked the boy when he'd seen the barber approaching the shop with Mrs Lovett snugly wrapped in his embrace.

To see them both incredibly close to one another, even then, caused him to feel slightly nauseaous with worry.

The pair were utterly oblivious to the lad's existence.

He watched in horror when Mrs Lovett whispered something before she leaned forwards, reaching a hand up to stroke Mr Todd's cheek. The lad's eyes widened, expecting the frightening man to lash out in response... but the barber appeared to lean towards her touch.

Toby audibly gasped.

The damned barber must have seized his bony hands around her poor heart while she was at her most vulnerable, at least, that's what his opinion was.

"Thank you." Eleanor repeated quietly, closing her eyes once she finally pressed a soft, chaste kiss to lips. He stood stiffly, attempting to appear awkward, yet his eyes dropped shut at the feel of her again and only gave away that he was more than willing to let himself go.

He reluctantly took a step back from her - he'd sensed that she wanted to reach her arms around his neck, and he wasn't allowing her proximity to take over his senses and sway him into kissing her back.

From the glum expression he wore as he dropped his eyes from her, it was clear he wouldn't be joining her for the rest of the night.

The tears welled up in her eyes but she swallowed back the urge to cry with disappointment. In truth, the woman had no idea whether to be scared, given the events that had occurred that night, she had no clue if she was still in danger... she would have felt calmer with him by her side.

But predictably, the man was set on spending the evening alone, and she didn't want to challenge his wishes now when the two of them were on relatively civil ground... or rather, a little more than civil.

"You're not to disturb me." he said in a whisper, answering her even though she hadn't even spoken a word... for once, he'd known exactly what she'd been thinking. "Leave me be tonight. I have some plans to modify."

She inhaled deeply, nodding in response when his scrutinising eyes rested on her, " 'O course, love."

He replaced the step towards her that he'd removed previously, her eyes faltering as he caressed her jawline with his thumb. His eyelids dropped down as soon as he returned her kiss. His lips were that quick and light that she almost thought a ghost had kissed her. When the warmth of his thumb on her chin finally vanished, she slowly opened her eyes, sadly observing the man she loved disappearing around the corner to cut across her courtyard.

She hoped for a goodbye, so she stood there a little longer once he'd headed for the stairs, her view of the rest of his journey obscured by the shop's front.

Even if his goodbye was an after-thought, it didn't matter.

She yearned for that goodbye.

But she never got one.

Toby huffed out a breath he'd been holding far too long - partially appalled by what he'd just witnessed, but mainly desperate... he finally had an opportunity to approach the only person he'd ever felt truly cared for him.

And he didn't have much time.

A life was at stake.

Once he saw the baker sighing with depression and fishing her key out from the snug pocket of her cleavage, the lad scampered over the slippy cobbles, head scanning the street from all angles - it was like he was paranoid... rightly so, given that the last time the boy set foot near 186 Fleet Street, he had been knocked out and abducted.

Yet, it would be impossible for Miss Fiori to be in two places at once, the boy knew that. But this time, it wasn't her he was afraid of... it was the barber upstairs.

Eleanor had turned away from the boy, too focused on getting inside now that she was all by herself. As the jangle of her house keys rattled, the boy's pace sped up.

"Mrs Lovett!" he cried out, skidding over a frostier patch of ground. "Wait! I needs some 'elp!"

She gasped out, flinging herself around to face him immediately, her face paling even more if it were possible as her set of keys hit the ground.

"T-Toby?!" she choked out, suddenly feeling like a ton of bricks had been placed over her ribcage. "Wot the devil are you doin' 'ere?!"

The little boy came to a hurried stop by the curb-edge, not wishing to approach her closely in case Mr Todd was to make an appearance.

"I-I know 'at she said not ta come 'ere 'gain but I gots not choice, ma'am! I dunno wot ta do! Please 'elp!" he blurted out in concern, holding his arm out to her like he expected her to take hold of him in order for him to lead her somewhere. She felt the tears returning again, more out of confusion and pity for the poor boy - he wasn't making any sense.

"She's injured, ma'am!" he added once he saw the deeply puzzled yet compassionate tears shimmering in her brown pools. "She's been lookin' after me proper she 'as! An' now she's 'urt real bad an' I'm no 'elp! B-But I said I'd fetch s-someone who c-could 'elp 'er! An' I fink that you can! Please, ma'am!"

Eleanor's memories of the events flooded back to her as soon as he'd said his last word... it seemed she'd escaped one ordeal only to tumble head-first into another.

Her brows lifted into a wince as she took a few steps towards him, bending down to place a hand on his tense shoulder... she couldn't help noticing that he was no longer wearing the tatty jacket she always used to see him with... it appeared to be something that had been tailored.

Whoever was taking care of him now was far better off than she would ever be.

In that moment, as she met Toby's alarmed eyes, she was completely envious of whoever had such a kind child in their company. The boy was the purest of any child she'd known, always seeing the good in people. Even if someone wore a mask of care, the poor lad was that innocent that he would probably believe it was genuine.

Even so, she did really care for the boy. Every part of her wanted to help him.

But every part of her wanted to endanger whoever he spoke so highly of... her jealousy got the better of her.

" 'M sorry, darlin'." she replied in a shuddering whisper, her other hand stroking back the wisps of dirty brown hair behind his ear. "Really, I am."

He suddenly let out a whimper, worried tears streaming down his cheeks.

"You shouldn't be 'ere." she added sternly, holding back tears of her own as she tried to understand the new burden she faced - but everything seemed to merge as one. "I don't know wot ya think I can 'elp with, lad. You 'aven't been 'ere f'months! And then you go an' frighten me out 'ere! And wot were you doin' at the Judge's 'ouse?! Me an' Mr T saw you there! You wasn't invited, so why was ya there?"

"I was lookin' for - "

"Up to no good?!" she near yelled, feeling her frustration ripping out through her before she became aware of what she was actually doing. "Whoever's lookin' after ya may give ya fancy clothes, but they're not really lookin' after ya if they didn't stop ya sneakin' into 'ouses!"

Toby suddenly scowled at her, shrugging off her hand from his shoulder, his tiny hands pushing away the teardrops that were still slicing into his cheeks.

He opened his mouth about to say something - but his eyes caught sight of a shadowed figure lurking around the corner of Mrs Lovett's shop...

His eyes widened and he gasped. It was evident who it was, because he scarpered as soon as he saw the glint of a white streak of hair cutting through the darkness.

Mrs Lovett frowned at the boy, her eyes red and puffy when she watched him scramble over the slippery cobbles, heading back to Bell Court passage - presumably returning to wherever he'd ran from.

Too outraged at herself, she made sure she kept her eyes on the boy until he finally disappeared into the void of gas-lit bricks and blackness. Her eyes lingered over where he'd just been stood before her, pleading his little heart out for her to help him.

How could she, when she didn't know who she was really helping?

How could she, when the lad had betrayed her by never returning?

Too distracted and distraught from a mix of guilt and self-loathing, she didn't notice the black eyes peering at her from the corner of her shop... they were hard, yet mirth-filled.

There was probably a smirk to match those eyes as well...

The barber had witnessed everything.

A/N Thanks for reading again! The next chapter leads directly on from this one, and it'll be up shortly. Hope you're all enjoying this! Thanks to everyone who reviewed... and yes, I haven't forgotten about the Judge, his fate has already been planned, haha. Keep your eyes out for the next update... it's just around the corner...