A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!
Ch. 29
Oddly enough, the doctors did not bother the group again for quite a while. Both Sweeney and Anthony were starting or about halfway seventh months, respectively, by then and the doctors had yet to be heard from. Of course, Johanna and Mrs. Lovett had been incredibly careful in regards to watching if they were being followed and making sure that the doors were always locked.
Despite the relative calm, Sweeney and Anthony were fairly miserable, Sweeney especially. At nearly forty years old, his body wasn't taking the pregnancy so well. It seemed like his knees and back were always hurting, and he was always tired. Moving around was difficult in general. Sweeney had been thin his whole life and having such a large stomach just felt strange.
Anthony seemed to be fairing slightly better, being younger. He too was uncomfortable, but he could handle it for the most part.
On this particular day, both men were lounging on the couch near the fire, talking amongst themselves.
"I miss being able to see my feet," Sweeney said, stretching a bit. He hadn't seen his toes in about two weeks.
"Me too," Anthony agreed. "And I miss not having to pee constantly too."
Sweeney nodded in agreement. That'd been yet another problem that had been plaguing him.
"Don't get me started on the swollen ankles," Anthony continued.
The sound of footsteps coming into the room announced that Ichabod was joining them. A few months of rest and good food, along with Mrs. Lovett's constant assistance, had done wonders for him. He was walking around normally now, not having to stop constantly.
"You two complaining again?" He asked, smirking.
Both Sweeney and Anthony rolled their eyes.
"C'mon," Anthony replied. "You can understand. You've felt our pain."
"Yes, I felt it several times, actually," Ichabod answered.
"So you know, then!"
"I do. I actually came in to ask if there's anything you needed. And..." Ichabod looked Sweeney over. "Mr. Todd, do you want another shirt?"
Sweeney's clothes had not fit for quite some time and his current shirt was riding up. He frowned and mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that?" Ichabod asked.
"...I said that nothing fits anymore." Sweeney glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I understand. Anyhow, Mrs. Lovett asked me to tell you both that lunch is ready."
Sweeney and Anthony mumbled something about getting up, then began the slow process of actually getting up off the couch. Anthony managed to do it, but Sweeney was having difficulty.
Ichabod sighed, and offered his hands to the barber, intending to help him up.
"I don't need help," Sweeney hissed.
Ichabod shrugged. "Suit yourself, then."
He and Anthony had just left the room when Sweeney gave up and began calling for Ichabod to come back.
