"Did you enjoy yourself, pet?" he asked her maliciously, enjoying the way she squirmed under his piercing gaze.

Anger was an understatement to describe what Sweeney was feeling. When he returned to the pier intent of escorting Nellie to their cabin, stupid Marjorie Denton told him she had already boarded with an "acquaintance" but refused to elaborate. Panic had coursed through him, since it was very unlikely she'd found a friend on the same ship. Maybe an old patron from Fleet Street? Perhaps he or she had recognised Nellie, invalidating the whole tale circulating in the press about the barber and the baker being amongst the fallen of what they believed to be an accidental fire while baking pies—though the most sensationalistic newspapers dared to speculate the participants were celebrating a satanic orgy in order to explain the large volume of calcinated corpses, which had elicited some giggles out of the dark couple.

In any case, he had to find her. He searched for her around the ship as worry ate him alive, only to finally find her more than well, getting herself acquainted with an old fat cat with a Pirelli moustache and more gold on his suit than they had in their purse. He watched with disgust as Nellie fawned all over him, nodding enthusiastically as he regaled her ears with God knows what nonsense, his perverted eyes feasting on her bosom the whole time. He'd seen them enter the grand dining saloon where they were served course after course of delicious meals, so much more appetising that the apple and the bread he'd procured for her. His heart dropped as he dealt with the sinking feeling of impotence, knowing that even if he'd saved all they had, he still couldn't afford such attentions for his wife.

But his sadness soon gave way to anger. He was trying, he was trying his damn best to be a good man for her, and all she seemed to care about was money. The way Sweeney saw it, she was basically prostituting herself for some fancy food. Back in Fleet Street, he'd angrily watched as she seduced men for higher tips or to entice them to go up to his parlour for a shave. While he hadn't complained about the latter as that made the kill more satisfying, he always made a point to tell her off, to which she always replied "relax, my love, it's just harmless teasing. The only man I'm shagging is you."

Well, by the looks of it she wasn't above shagging this man old enough to be her father. The way she moaned as she sampled those dishes, the way she dabbed on his mouth with the napkin when some sauce began trickling down his poorly-shaven chin, and how their eyes never left each other's as they raised their weird-coloured drinks for a toast. He was raging mad at her, but also at himself. Why had he been so naïve as to expect her to change her wicked ways when they "married"?

He had to exert all his self-control not to walk up to them and slit that throat. But Sweeney was aware that would only complicate things, for he did not want to be arrested when they'd been fortunate enough to avoid the law so far. Thus, he returned to his cabin to wait for Nellie. A conversation between him and his "wife" was long overdue, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Once in cabin 237, he promptly noticed the electrical lightbulb was fused and he wasn't surprised, pretensions of modernity were nothing but that, pretensions. There was a reason they'd been using oil lamps for centuries so why changing what's not broken? Yet Sweeney wasn't bothered, he rather liked the darkness. He sat on an armchair in the corner to sharpen his razors, becoming one with the shadows as he bid his time until she eventually came to him. His anger in crescendo the longer she stayed away from him as he imagined all the things the two could be doing behind his back…

He didn't know how long it had passed before she finally entered the cabin, which he'd purposely left unlocked. Despite the dimness, his eyes easily focused on her, sneering at her obvious distress. He could tell she was scared, whether of the darkness or facing him he didn't know, but he hoped it was the latter. Over time, he'd learned that the only way to be respected was to be feared. Letting the moment build, he'd sadistically enjoyed how she fussed about the room in search for a switch. Unlike him, a nocturnal creature, Eleanor was all light to the marrow of her bones despite her proclivities… and maybe that's why they just clicked, they complemented each other. That he managed to have those realisations in the midst of its anger did not ease it. They could be so perfect together, and she was ruining everything!

"Yes, dear… it was… nice… to explore the ship" she answered tremulously, avoiding the elephant in the room with all her might. He was not having it, the gall she had... And then she added, "I would have asked you to join me, but I know you don't like people much."

"Liar!" he roared. She was a filthy liar and that would never change. "You were perfectly fine without me, parading yourself around the saloon class like a posh totty with that old blighter!"

"We weren't doing anything wrong!" she defended herself. Sweeney gritted his teeth but let her finish. "I was just humouring him to get some of that food. I was just hungry, your child is hungry…" He grimaced when he mentioned the child. As if it couldn't have done with the hearty steerage class breakfast. It was its mother who wanted luxuries, who wouldn't stop at anything to get them. That arriviste… She kept talking, stroking Sweeney's burgeoning fury with every word. "I'm sorry, I should have told you. I just didn't want you to overreact."

That set him off. "Overreact? Overreact? How would you react if I acted like that? If I whored myself out for the highest bidder every chance I got. You have no shame, Mrs. Lovett. You're a slag."

"I didn't whore myself out!" she yelled, the strain in her voice was the confirmation that he was getting to her. But it wasn't enough. The fact that she was still denying the evident made him even angrier.

"I saw you with my own eyes, Eleanor! You looked like his cheap mistress! And you are mine!" He stood up and began advancing towards her until he had her backed against the wall. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her; her laboured breath and her engorged bosom raising and falling rapidly along with it were enough to get his pulse racing. He could not help it, Sweeney Todd was getting aroused. Coupled with his anger, it could be a very dangerous combination. Nellie sucked in a breath, and he smirked cruelly.

"You and I know that a man like him wouldn't waste his time with you if he hadn't been promised anything in return… So, tell me, Nell, what did you promise him?" His thumb ghosted over her plump lips as he closed in on her. She turned her face to avoid his impending bruising kiss, but he roughly grabbed her by the jawline, keeping her in place. "No kiss?" he snickered. His hand moved lower to grab a breast over her corset, attempting to fondle it and she held her breath. Her nipple pebbled under his touch like he knew it would. "These perhaps? So round and milky." He travelled even lower, cupping her sex through her skirts. "Or this? The best you can offer a man."

He could tell she'd started crying, her hot tears were dampening the hand that was firmly holding her face. But Sweeney Todd was past the point of registering his obvious cruelty and the pain he was causing the woman he loved. He could only think of the lesson he ought to teach her. His cock throbbed just thinking about it. "You are mine, Nellie. Your lips are mine, your tits are mine, your cunt is mine."

"Sweeney, please stop" she pleaded, as if she didn't know her begging just stroked his fire. He forced her legs apart and began rubbing her, determined to have her begging for something else soon. "No, please, don't do this."

"You're mine" he repeated in a low tone, ignoring her protests. Resigned, Nellie looked down. Her discomfort was obvious and it angered Sweeney. He wasn't forcing her because she always wanted him! From the first moment he crossed the door to her shop, she'd been his. Why was she trying to resist? Didn't she love him? "I own you, Eleanor. Say it! Say you belong to me!"

Not for the first time, he longed to see her submit. He loved her fieriness, her feistiness, but a dark fantasy of his had always been having her surrendering all her control over to him if just for one night. And she kept crying and she sounded defeated enough he really thought she would.

But with a surge of strength he wasn't anticipating, she pushed him off her. Momentarily free from his grasp, she ran for the door. But he was faster, effectively blocking her only exit. She kept trying, struggling against him to open the door as he tried his best to prevent it. She wasn't going anywhere until he fucked her and taught her who's her man. No fat cat, no butcher, no judge… but Sweeney Todd! She clawed at his arm, making him hiss but distracting him enough to open the door. He could not allow it, so he roughly grabbed her by the hair to halt her escape and raised a hand to slap her with such force that it sent her tumbling down to the floor.

Time seemed to stop for the barber and the baker. Illuminated by the light coming from the corridor now that the door was open, the former finally came to his senses, realising that once again he'd been blinded by his rage. After he returned to this timeline armed with information about her past that fostered a newfound sympathy for the baker, he told himself that he'd never lay a hand on her again, that he'd never abuse her physically, let alone sexually like he almost did. Fights were bound to happen due to their strong personalities, but he'd always conduct himself with respect. And just seeing her with another man in a moderately flirty attitude had caused him to forego all those promises and become the man he never wanted to become. She was in the wrong here, he had no doubt about that, but he'd indeed overreacted, his jealousy had got the best of him.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for" he apologised, swallowing his pride because the threat of losing her was greater than his ego. But Nellie regarded him impassibly, hatred in those eyes that not long ago were only capable of harbouring love for him.

A hand nursing her cheek and another rubbing her stomach, Nellie thanked her lucky stars she'd fallen on her back and had managed to soften the impact by using her hands to support herself. Still, she couldn't believe what Sweeney had done. Granted, it wasn't the first time he slapped her—and she had to admit he'd slapped him too—or gotten too handsy when her consent was at least dubious. And after trying to kill her and their baby, this behaviour should not come as a surprise. Moreover, she was aware that she'd provoked him, that she should have been smarter about the whole situation if she didn't want him to react like that. But that didn't make it alright.

She'd always told herself that he'd change one day, in the near future when he completed his revenge. She knew he wouldn't miraculously return to the way he was 15 years ago, but she really thought he'd be gentler towards her, caring even, that they could have a pretty good life together. The judge was dead now, and they'd left London. He'd asked her to marry him, they were expecting a baby… and still nothing bloody changed. Why did she still love him? Why did she still care? She hated the part of herself that was dying to forgive him right away because he'd shown some remorse, just so he didn't leave her, even if she knew he'd probably do it again. But there was their baby to consider. He'd not been a damn tad gentler with her even though he knew she was carrying his child. And that spoke louder than a thousand apologies.

He extended his hand to help her up, but she didn't take it. She held onto the bedside table to get back on her feet. "Dammit, Nellie. I said I'm sorry."

"That's not enough" she took a deep breath, but she soon found herself eager to let it all out. "You're a monster. A bloody monster with no heart! And you will never change, no matter how many times you apologise!"

"I'm trying!" he said, exasperated. Couldn't she see that he was? "But you are not much better than me! You're a liar, a selfish flirt, a woman who had no qualms about baking people into pies!" He whispered the last part, not wanting anyone to find out about their crimes. She huffed.

"At least I'm capable of loving" she spat. "No matter what I do or don't do, the only thing you'll ever love or even respect is the illusion of the perfect family you left behind all those years ago. And only the illusion because you know they'd hate the man you've become now." He grimaced but remained silent. Nellie walked to the door and Sweeney didn't try to stop her this time. When she was in the corridor, she turned around ready to deliver her final blow, aware that she could run and scream and someone would come to her aid if he became too violent once again.

"You had your Johanna and instead of talking to her like a father who's obviously missed her, you let her go off to start a life with Anthony scared to death of men because you were too much of a coward to even apologise for almost slitting her throat. By mistake, I know." He was rendered speechless that she knew but he guessed Johanna had confided in her. Unlike him who'd only lashed out when she asked. And she still made excuses for him, so sure it was a mistake. "And Lucy, God if she were not a madwoman, she would have been scared shitless of you, you are nothing like the man she married." She held her breath, waiting for him to blow up at her mentioning Lucy, but he didn't. She sighed before adding: "Nothing like the man I waited 15 years for…"

Her last sentence made his heart stop. If anything, he always thought Nellie loved him the way he was now. With all his flaws. But perhaps she was still hung up on sweet caring Benjamin just like he'd been blindly hung up on Lucy. Tears pricked his eyes at the possibility, but he would not give her the satisfaction of shedding them. "I didn't ask you to wait for me." He meant it, he never even expected the baker he barely spent time with before he was transported would be there to welcome him instead of Lucy, ready to give him her all and turn his world upside down.

"I know. And I'm beginning to regret it" she whispered her last part before walking along the corridor, to God knows where.

Sweeney stood powerless, letting the tears fall steadily down his cheeks. He hated it, hated that he'd become so vulnerable, that he'd give her the power to hurt him when he thought he could no longer feel anything but hatred. Because Nellie was wrong, he was capable of loving, of loving her like mad despite her betrayal and the dangerous toxicity of their relationship. And unless he did something, he would lose her forever.

He didn't know how long he'd spent there, motionlessly crying for her and all the truths she'd told him to his face. The Johanna one. He'd really let his girl go because he was too much of a coward to clear things up with her, to explain himself, to tell her the truth, that he thought her every day in Australia… that he felt guilty he missed her childhood, that he wanted nothing but to free her from the filthy Judge. But that he wasn't the same man who left her, that all the abuses in Australia took a toll on him and sometimes he did things he later regretted. But he'd been too scared to open the pandora box, so he'd just let her go without a word. And know his child would be scarred forever partly thanks to him, because he didn't have the guts to make things right before saying goodbye forever.

Thoughts of Johanna always took him to his youngest child, in Nellie's belly. It could be Charlie, perhaps, the baby with messy curls and a tear-shaped mark on his chest. Or it could be a different child, and this time he was sure he or she shared his blood. He wanted it, he wanted the second chance to have a family with the woman he was sure he was madly in love with. But not for the first time he worried he wouldn't be the father that baby deserved. That even if he tried to be a decent man for them, something would set him off and the monster in him would come out and he would hurt them like he always did.

His child deserved a father like Benjamin, Nellie deserved a husband like Benjamin. But he'd tried to return to that man in the other timeline and it didn't work out. To know that to some extent Nellie wanted Benjamin too added to the root cause of his frustrations: he hated the man he was now, but there was no going back. No magic rubber to erase all he went through, he would continue to hurt those he loved for the rest of his life, no matter how hard he tried.

"Mr. Payne?" he heard a male voice call him.

He spotted the tall, emaciated figure of Johnathan Denton at the doorway and he immediately grunted, quickly wiping his tears. "What do you want?"

"I saw Eleanor. She was quite distressed as she told Marjorie that you two had a fight and I thought I should go check on you. There's two side to every story, after all." He said amicably. "Would you like to take a walk along the deck? Get some fresh air. We still have about an hour before the sun sets."

No, his mind immediately refused, but for some reason he found himself walking towards the farmer, his light beckoning the heavy heart that just wanted to alleviate some of his load by sharing it with another. They walked in silence until they reached the deck, the breeze charged with sea-salt tousling his hair reminded him of his hopeful return to London aboard the Bountiful. But it was no longer hope what he felt looking at his future, just fear his life would get worse than it already was. Without Nellie, he saw no light at the end of the tunnel.

"What did she tell you?" he asked Mr. Denton.

"Nothing much, just that the two of you had a fight because you didn't like her spending some time with Mr. Winslow" he explained, revealing the name of the fat cat to Sweeney. "It must have been bad, because she was in such a state. What happened? You can tell me, I won't judge."

Sweeney sighed. "I hurt her" he answered, not willing to give much away. But there was something in the sympathetic smile of the younger man that encouraged him to keep talking. "I always hurt her. She gets me mad, and I lash out and I can't stop. I fear she's beginning to hate me, but I don't know what to do."

"Do you love her?" he asked, and Sweeney couldn't help but roll his eyes. He wanted to tell this clueless farmer that love didn't have anything to do with it, that everything would be much easier if he didn't because then hurting her wouldn't hurt him so bad. But there was only one answer to that question.

"Yes."

Johnathan nodded, believing him like he was sure Eleanor wouldn't. She'd accused him of not being capable of loving her or anything but his memories of a happy past, but she was so wrong. The love he felt for her was nothing like the puppy love he once felt for Lucy nor the sweet tender love he knew she dreamed about, it was darker, deeper. That didn't make it less true. Quite the opposite, it was strong enough for him to willingly give his life for her.

But Sweeney knew that even if he'd told her then or if he ran to her know to confess how he really felt, she wouldn't believe him. She would think it contrite, a cheap ploy to get her back after he's more than crossed the line. Before he told her, he would have to show her. And he didn't know how. "But I don't know how to be the man she wants me to be. The man she deserves."

"Nellie complains you don't listen, she feels like you don't care" Johnathan said, shedding some light into the matter. As much as he didn't want her badmouthing him or their relationship, he was oddly glad she had some decent friends to vent when she felt she couldn't talk to him. Still, he wished she trusted him like he did her. She was the only person he ever confided in to share his plan, the only person he somewhat opened his heart to occasionally. She was his confidante, but he wasn't hers.

"I do listen, and I do care. She just never sees it, she never seems to notice that I try…" he told the young man.

"Have you talked to her? Pardon my forwardness, Mr. Payne, but you always seem a little distant… the scowl on your face is permanent, as if you didn't want to be here or with her…"

"Of course, I want to!" he said defensively. How dare he suggest otherwise? "If I didn't want to be with her, I wouldn't be travelling with her to America, I would have left her in bloody London and I definitely wouldn't have asked her to marry me!"

"London? You're from London? Your wife said you came from Blackpool…" he inquired, calm and collected despite Sweeney's outburst. The older man took a deep breath, cursing himself and his anger for his Freudian slip.

"We tried our luck in London for a couple of months before we realised moving to the United States would be the best for us" he lied quite effortlessly, and Johnathan believed him right away. Nellie had taught him well… And to think he was once a man who abhorred lying. He decided to change topics. "I know she is worried about the money. We had some savings, but I wasn't very… clever and I overspent. Now we don't have much to start over and it's going to be a struggle to survive the first weeks until we find good jobs" he admitted, still angry at himself for it.

Johnathan Denton nodded again but there wasn't a hint of judgment in his gaze and he was grateful for that. All of a sudden, his face lit up. "I had an idea! Nellie mentioned that you did some sort of barbering apprenticeship before deciding to become a grocer" he gritted his teeth, even if it was a lie they'd concocted, he was angry at the reminder. He wasn't a simple grocer, he wasn't green! "And the barber assigned to this ship apparently got ill with scurvy on his previous trip and wasn't able to board, so the position is open I would assume."

Sweeney smirked at the suggestion. Finally some good news! If he became the ship's barber he would make some money to reassure Nellie of his commitment to her and their growing family and make their life easier when they reached New York. The only downfall would be that Sweeney couldn't be slitting throats as he pleased but he'd make up for it by charging those who most deserved to meet his blade, usually those rich bleeders in saloon, twice the coins he'd charge in London. And if that Mr. Winslow dared to come to his barber shop… He knew he couldn't slit throat but a cut deep enough to hurt and scar but not enough to kill would be in order.

He thanked Johnathan Denton for the information, eager to offer his barbering services to the crew member in charge. But before he left, the farmer offered him one last piece of advice. "Just talk to Nellie, be upfront about your feelings and she'll open her heart to you. There's nothing women love more than a heart to heart."

Perhaps his simple Marjorie, but not Nellie. Despite how much she talked, she was always guarded about her feelings as he was. And it scared him shitless that if he told her he loved her, she wouldn't reciprocate. He couldn't really blame her if that was the case. "Admitting you love someone is giving them the power to hurt you. You're giving them your heart and letting them know they have it. And I don't think nothing hurts worse than being hurt by the one you love" young Nellie had said back in the other timeline. Her words had never rung truer and the dull ache in his heart at the mere possibility of her no longer loving him back was a testament to it.

Still, he reckoned they had to talk eventually, he wasn't waiting until she wasn't in a death or life situation to tell her what he felt for her. It was his truth and she had to know. But he always found word to be somewhat meaningless compared to actions, so he would show her that he loved her first.

And to do that he must get that job to begin with and start making money, to provide for his family and make amends for his overspending that was worrying her. It wasn't hard, he only had to shave the staff captain who was very pleased by his skills and instantly offered him the position. But he had to start right away, and he spent the rest of the day shaving passengers and crew members non-stop. It was dinner time when he made his return to his cabin, eager to fetch Nellie and take her to dine. With the tips he'd earned today, he could perhaps bribe some waiter to bring them some saloon class dishes. That would make her happy, he hoped.

And tonight, he'd give her the ring, there was no point in delaying it. He loved her and was committed to her and their family, and he wanted her to have the evidence of it on her pretty finger. A token to his love, the proof that he cared enough to buy her something expensive and beautiful as her. He always carried the jewel in his pocket as some sort of amulet, so he took and began examining it as he walked towards the cabin, admiring the way the scarlet gem shone and how beautiful it would look on Nellie's finger. How she'd smile at him when she saw him and hopefully forgive him for his callousness earlier.

"C'mon, open the damn door, you bastard" he heard as he entered the corridor that led to their cabin. It was very obviously Nellie, her thick cockney accent more prominent when she was angry. He realised he'd left the door locked and had forgotten to give her the spare key. He sighed, anticipating another fight because of his oversight. "You can hide forever, you coward! Human scum, heartless monster, you are!"

He was surprised no passenger rushed to corridor to see what was happening upon hearing her screaming, which he guessed had been going on for a long time based on how worked up she was. But then again, he supposed they had their own marital problems. Or perhaps the cabins were effectively soundproofed. He walked towards her without further delay, being in such a state couldn't be good for the baby.

"Open up! I know you are in there, Charles! Stop hiding and be a man for once in your life! I'm leaving your pitiful arse forever and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Sweeney froze.