Many many apologies for taking so long to get this part finished and posted. I just couldn't seem to get this to work, and I wasn't going to share it until I was happy with it. I've come too far with these guys to let them down at this point—and I'm betting that anyone who's still with me feels the same way. I hope this is worth the wait, and I'll try to be a bit faster with the next one.
Huge thanks to everyone who's reading, and an even bigger thanks to those of you who have sent me such amazingly great reviews. Love and hugs to the tolerant and supportive Miss Becky for her beta skills and for her friendship.
Nobody here belongs to me, even if I think they do. I'm not making any money and don't mean any copyright infringement. The usual warnings: spoilers for the movie/play, some m/m sexual activity, and a really bad Italian accent.
Enjoy!
o-o-o-o
Twenty-two
"Anthony…"
The word was a sound of pain—and a desperate cry for help. Anthony was on his feet in an instant, stumbling on legs that had gone numb from the hours of immobility, reaching the bedside just as Todd called his name again. Todd's head was thrashing from side to side, eyes tightly closed, lips drawn back in a grimace. A nightmare, and a bad one.
"Mr. Todd, sir? I'm here." He put a hand on Todd's shoulder.
With a whimper, Todd flung himself upward. Anthony caught him, wrapping his arms around the thin shoulders, holding him until the tremors shaking his body abruptly ceased and the muscles beneath Anthony's hands went tense.
"Are you awake, sir?" he asked unnecessarily.
"Yes." Todd's voice was unsteady, but he was already pulling away from Anthony in every way. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's all right, sir. Can I—"
"No." His tone had gone cold, forbidding, again.
There was a bright splash of blood on the sleeve of Todd's shirt. "You're bleeding. You may have torn your stitches. Can I see?"
"It's all right."
"Please, sir. I know you're angry with me, but please let me help you."
Todd looked up at him, startled. "I'm not..." He caught himself. "Go ahead then."
Anthony's fingers were clumsy as he unbuttoned Todd's shirt. He was terrified—more than terrified—of doing something else to make Todd lash out at him, but Todd sat quietly as Anthony pulled the shirt off his shoulder and carefully undid the bandage.
"Well?"
He jumped. "It's...it..."
"You don't need to be afraid of me, boy," he snapped. "I don't turn my razor on every man that I've serviced. If I did, I'd be a murderer more times than I can count."
"Sir..."
"Oh yes." Something flickered in the dark eyes. "I forgot," he said bitterly. "I did turn it on you, didn't I? Threatened you and cut you and—"
"You didn't mean to. It was an accident."
"Finish what you're doing," he said brusquely.
Anthony checked the wound, then redid the bandage, but when he started to pull the shirt back into place, Todd shook his head. "I can do it."
Anthony shifted from foot to foot, then blurted out, "Please, Mr. Todd, tell me what I've done wrong."
Todd sighed, and all his anger seemed to go away in a rush. "Nothing," he said tiredly. "You haven't done anything except be who you are."
"I don't understand."
"You're a good man, Anthony. A decent man." Todd was struggling with the buttons of the shirt. "I'm not. Benjamin Barker was, but I... I'm a man who could deliberately cripple someone like Lewis. Murder Turpin and Bamford in cold blood, without a second's hesitation and without a second's remorse. It's natural that you would..."
He let his hands fall into his lap. "I shouldn't have spoken so harshly to you. I'm sorry. I do understand."
Anthony wanted to say that he didn't understand—didn't understand anything—but at that moment the door opened and he saw Johanna peeking in timidly.
"I thought I heard voices," she whispered.
He turned and tried to look as if she were welcome. "Come in. Mr. Todd's awake. I was just on my way to tell you."
He suspected she didn't even hear his lie. She was staring at Todd, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Father?"
"Johanna."
And then Todd smiled—a real smile, even if there still seemed to be a touch of sadness in his face—and held out his arms. She ran to him like a little girl, and he pulled her to his chest and hugged her so tightly that he gasped with pain.
"I'm hurting you." She tried to lean back, but he refused to let her go.
"You couldn't hurt me. I've waited fifteen years for this."
She settled onto the bed and lay her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I have too."
"My precious little lamb."
Anthony could never have imagined he'd hear such tenderness—such love—in Todd's voice. Hearing it, watching them, seeing the love, made his throat tighten with happiness and envy.
It was a moment too personal—too private—to be shared with anyone else, especially not with him. He backed away, out the door, pulling it shut behind him, and left them alone.
o-o-o-o
When Mrs. Lovett came in from the parlor, he was busy making the dough for the day's pies, kneading with perhaps more force than was necessary, trying not to think about what had happened—whatever it was that had happened—with Todd.
"Mornin', dearie."
"Good morning, mum."
She looked upward. "'e awake then?"
"Yes. Last night." He flipped the dough and attacked it with the rolling pin. "Johanna came up just now, so I left. I didn't want to be in their way."
"Wot's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
"Then why are y' tryin' t' kill that w' th' rollin' pin?" She leaned against his shoulder and gave him a quick pat on the back. "Tell me."
He took a deep breath. "I did something last night, Mrs. L. I upset him. He was hurting, and then he was angry...and I don't know what I did to cause it."
"Ah." She straightened. "'e's a hard 'un t' understand sometimes, ain't 'e. Did y' ever think lovin' 'im w's gonna be easy?"
"Don't!" he said quickly, glancing around to be sure they were alone. "He doesn't want Johanna to know that I...we...that there was ever anything like that between us."
She scowled. "Did 'e say that?"
"I...I don't remember, but surely he feels that way. He couldn't want her to know. She's his daughter." His shoulders slumped. "And besides, there's not anything. There never was. For a while I hoped maybe...but I was wrong."
"An' wot makes y' think that?"
"Because he keeps telling me he's not able to love, but when he spoke to her..." He sounded petty and childish even to himself.
"She's 'is baby, an' always will be. But jus' you remember, 'owever much 'e loves 'er, it w's you wot brought 'im out o' it, Anthony, not 'er."
"But it was me telling him how much she needed him." Mrs. Lovett was reaching for a lump of dough. He took it away from her and began to roll it out himself and changed the subject. "As soon as I put this batch in the oven, I need to go to the market."
"A' right then. And be sure t' drop by an' check on Johanna's 'usband an' tell 'im Mr. T's awake." She grinned. "Tell 'im I said t' come 'round f' supper when 'e's done barberin'."
"Yes mum."
Grateful for the excuse to get away, he hurriedly finished, then, after pausing for a quick, longing, glance toward the top of the stairs, he set out for the market.
o-o-o-o
Anthony could hear Connor's voice from fifteen stalls away. "Si, si, Meester Todda hasa gone on a treep to my home eena Italia to train weetha the man who taughta me all that I know. Anda when he returns, we weela have another contest to see how mucha he hasa learned."
When he glanced over and saw Anthony, he threw his hands in the air and cried, "Antonio! My frienda!" He bounded off the platform and caught Anthony's shoulders and, under the pretense of kissing him on both cheeks, murmured, "Everything okay?"
"He's awake."
Connor gave a sigh of relief, then released Anthony and bowed toward the half-shaved man in the barber chair. "Eefa you weela indulge me for a moment, so that I maya speak weetha my frienda, I weela make your shave for free."
"Of course, signor."
"Grazie, grazie." Connor drew Anthony around toward the side of the wagon so they could talk. Anthony had to fight to repress the sickness he felt at the memory of being there only a few days before and seeing...
"Is he all right? I mean...all right?"
Anthony knew exactly what he meant. "He is. Johanna's sitting with him now."
"Thank God. I was afraid we were going to lose him."
"I was too."
Connor's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'd have thought you'd be a lot happier."
"I am happy. It's just..."
"What?"
Anthony desperately wanted to talk with Connor, tell him what had happened, see if he understood what had gone wrong, but this was neither the time nor the place. "It's nothing."
Connor regarded him for a heartbeat, then let it go. "I'm glad you came by. I had a visit earlier this morning from Judge Wilson."
"Trouble?"
"They want to have a memorial service for the Honorable Judge Turpin." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Can't have a proper funeral, since there's nothing left of him but ashes, so they decided this would be the next best thing."
"Why did he come to tell you?"
"Because Turpin's ward is my new bride, remember. We eloped Saturday evening."
"Oh." With everything that had happened in the past few hours, he had forgotten.
"To-bee!" He waved Toby over. "Give Anthony some money. Make it a twenty, just in case." Toby scurried off, and he went on, "Ask Mrs. Lovett if she'll take Johanna out to find a dress that's suitably mournful, so we can go talk to them tomorrow about the service."
"Mrs. L wanted me to tell you to come for supper anyway."
"Perfect." He raised his voice. "Until we meeta again."
Anthony waited until Toby had brought him the bills, then ruffled the boy's hair and left to get on with his errands.
o-o-o-o
Johanna came down just after the lunch crowd had gone, a soft, contented smile on her face. Mrs. Lovett was wiping down one of the tables, but she paused to ask, "'ow's 'e doin' then?"
"Resting. I thought I'd see if I could help you any way."
Anthony's hands clenched briefly. He wanted to grab her and send her back, tell her that Todd shouldn't be left alone just now, in case he had another nightmare, or, better yet, go to be with Todd himself. He took a half step toward the steps.
"If y' want t' pick up th' plates an' carry 'em in t' th' wash, that'd be fine."
Johanna began to gather them, but her movements slowed and she glanced back toward the window above them. "It's hard to believe he's real. I never dreamed I'd have a father who loved me so much."
Anthony froze. It wasn't his place to go look after Todd. Todd belonged to Johanna now, not to him. Todd had never belonged to him.
"Anthony? Is something wrong?"
"No." Then he remembered. "Yes. I stopped by to see Davy this morning."
Johanna's cheeks went pink, but her voice was calm as she asked, "And how is my dear husband?"
Stepping closer to them, Anthony repeated what Connor had told him about the memorial service and the proper attire. "Do you think you can find a dress?"
Mrs. Lovett nodded. "I know just th' place. If y' don't mind finishin' up 'ere, we can be there an' back in a tic." She grinned. "Maybe two. Let me get m' 'at."
Johanna watched her walk away, then looked up at Anthony. He was sorry to see that much of the joy had left her face.
"Is it wrong of me that I don't care?" She twisted her hands together. "He was my guardian—the only family I've ever known until now. I should feel something, shouldn't I? Something besides...relief."
He hesitated. "Judge Turpin wasn't a good man."
"He's the one who had Father sent away, wasn't he?"
She was staring at him so intently—so much like Todd could—that he found it impossible to lie to her, even though he wasn't sure that he should tell her the truth. "Yes."
"Why?"
"You need to ask him that. Mr. Todd."
"Will he tell me?"
"I think so." At least some of it. And with that thought came the memory of the things Todd had said the night before about the beggar woman.
"What is it, Anthony? You look so strange."
"Nothing." He smiled at her. "I'll go check in on Mr. Todd while you're gone and tell him you'll be back."
"Thank you." And her smile was back. "He's so very precious to me."
Anthony wouldn't allow himself even to think, "And to me too."
o-o-o-o
Todd was sleeping when he quietly pushed open the door to peer in, head turned to the side, mouth open ever so slightly, breathing deeply. Anthony took a few steps toward the bed, to make sure everything seemed all right, then went back downstairs and began to make the pies for supper.
He went back a half-dozen times more before Johanna and Mrs. Lovett returned, creeping up the stairs, looking in to see that nothing had changed, and then creeping back down again. Johanna had bought some soup from one of the shops down the street. She left Mrs. Lovett to deal with the dress and took it upstairs to Todd, and didn't come back.
o-o-o-o
Connor and Toby arrived toward the end of the supper rush, Toby heading for the food and Connor going straight upstairs. A few minutes later, Johanna came into the shop, giggling, and set to work gathering up the discarded plates.
Toby had finished his second pie and was reaching for a third before Connor joined them. Mrs. Lovett grinned at him and gestured toward the table. "C'n I get y' a pie, love?"
"If Toby's left any."
"I'm a growin' boy," he protested.
"You are that." Connor looked toward Anthony for a moment, frowning slightly, as if perplexed. "Anthony, did you mean—"
"Here you are, sir." It was Johanna who delivered the pie. Connor took it from her with one hand and used the other to lift her fingers to his lips.
"Thank you, my dear. Will you join me?"
She nodded and slid into the bench. He set the plate on the table and settled down beside her.
"Davy?"
He waved Anthony away with a quick, "Later," and set about simultaneously eating and charming Johanna.
o-o-o-o
Connor called for Toby and left before Anthony had a chance to find out what it was that he had wanted to ask. As soon as he was gone, Johanna vanished back upstairs again. Mrs. Lovett shook her head and stacked up their dishes.
"Business stays this good, we outta think about getting' us a lad like Toby t' clean up."
"Yes mum."
"Prob'ly couldn't find one like 'im, though."
"No mum."
"Still broodin' 'bout Mr. T?"
"No," he lied. "I was wondering if I could take the blankets back upstairs—the ones we used to make a bed before...before. If you don't need them, that is."
"Y' plannin' on sleepin' on th' floor again?"
"Yes mum."
"Why? Somethin' wrong w' th' bed?"
"I just don't think I should..."
"Did 'e say 'e didn't want y' in 'is bed?"
"No, but if Johanna should see... I don't want her to think..."
She stopped and put her arms around his neck, not caring that she was dripping soap and water down his back. "I wish I c'd 'elp y', Anthony."
He hugged her tightly. "I do too, mum."
"I love y', boy. An' 'e does too."
Anthony shook his head and abruptly pulled away. "Can I borrow a pillow too?"
She sighed and nodded and went back to her work.
o-o-o-o
Anthony waited until Johanna had come downstairs and gone into the little room where Mrs. Lovett had set up a cot for her, then gathered up the bedding and made his way back upstairs.
Todd was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Anthony quietly closed the door and crossed the room and began to make up his bed.
"I'm not asleep."
He pushed the last blanket into place, then rose and turned to face Todd. "How are you feeling, sir?"
"Like a father, I dare say." He shook his head. "All those years, dreaming of seeing my baby again, I never imagined she'd be so…exhausting."
"It's only natural that you'd tire easily now, because you're hurt."
Todd made a non-committal sound. "She had so many questions. She wanted to know about Benjamin Barker, and about Lucy, and how we met, and what she was like, and when we were married. Things I hadn't thought about in years. It was..." He shivered. "Too many old memories."
"But surely they were good memories."
"It was so long ago. It was another life. I felt as if I were talking about another man, not me. I'm a fraud. I'm not her father. Her father's dead."
"No sir, he's still very much alive, only changed by time, just like she's been changed by time."
"But she changed for the better."
"Mr. Todd..." He dared to go and perch on the edge of the bed. "Johanna may not have had a happy life, but she's had an easy life. You haven't. Very few men could have endured—much less survived—all that you have and still be such a good man. You haven't changed for the worse, sir. You've only changed."
"Do you believe that?" Todd straightened slightly, and there was something in his face that Anthony couldn't identify, something almost...yearning. "Do you really think I'm a good man, after all I've done?"
"Of course, sir. I know you are."
"Thank you, son. That means a great deal to me." Todd sank back. "She wanted to know why Turpin had me sent away."
"I thought she might."
"I told her that he'd wanted her mother, so he got me out of the way. That seemed to satisfy her for now. And then..." He took a ragged breath. "She asked about Australia."
That surprised Anthony. "She did?"
"I never thought she'd want to know anything about...that. She caught me off guard."
"What did you tell her?"
"What could I tell her?" There was too much pain in his voice. Anthony wanted to reach out to him, to touch his arm, to hold him. "I told her that it was very hot and that they forced us to work like animals. She must realize that it was no paradise, but dear God, how could I tell her about the things I had to do? The things they did to me? The things…" He looked up at Anthony. "The things I told you."
"She'll never hear about them from me, sir," he said earnestly. "It's between us."
"I know. I trust you. I..." He faltered.
"Sir?"
"I need to rest."
"Yes sir. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No. Nothing." Todd eased down in the bed, shifting, as if trying to make himself comfortable. The expression on his face told Anthony that he was failing.
"Perhaps if you put this here, sir." He retrieved the pillow he'd brought up for himself and slid it under Todd's arm for support. "Does that help?"
"Yes. Thank you." The line between Todd's eyes eased. "Where are you going to sleep tonight? Not in the corner again, I hope."
"No sir. I'm making my bed over there, so I can be nearby if you need me." He pulled the quilt up and gently tucked the edges around Todd.
"We can at least still be friends, can't we, Anthony?" Todd whispered.
"Of course we can, sir. I hope I can always call you friend."
"I'd hate to lose your friendship too." He closed his eyes.
Anthony sat there until he was sure Todd was asleep. Only then did he allow himself to reach out and lightly stroke a pale cheek. Todd sighed, and he turned his face into the touch. Alarmed, Anthony jerked his hand away, then forced himself to stand and go to his bed on the floor.