Since last chapter was so intense, I tired to clam this one down a bit. But we still have a ways to go. Writing action and nightmares are so fun for some reason. Thanks to my two reviewers, I love you.

Chapter 7

Do Not Despair

There was a new moon out.

It's strange how in situations of chaos, one's memory can be tied to the horrible event by a simple object, or light, or sound. For Nellie, it was the moon. She's never seen the sky so dark. Even the stars were gone, hidden behind clouds, as if they didn't want to help her. Her throat was sore from screaming. She kept her eyes on the dark moon has her body was forced farther into the dirt. The pain between her legs turned from unbearable to numbing. She put up a good fight… but it wasn't enough. She felt so tired, barely running on enough energy before… this… happened. She felt a sharp pain in her arm, feeling something wet and sticky run down to her finger tips. Then there was a pain to her side that made more tears fall from her eyes, running down to her neck.

She stared at the moon. Her eyes turned wide as the moon turned red. The color red was swirling around on the black circle. The moon was bleeding.

She watched it, being pushed into the ground. And rough hands pressing, squeezing on both her wrists, dirt wedging its way between her fingers. The grass was itchy on the back of her legs.

She wanted to die.

For a moment she thought she was going to. But she didn't see no rays of light, only a bleeding moon. Is this the gates of hell?

The moon exploded in blood. No! Wait. Not the moon, the man.

The moon stopped bleeding. Everything was pitch black for a moment then the wind blew the clouds away and stars returned. Black, mixed with a bit of white…

Safe.

The train was back in working order. He had to hurry. He took a hold of her already ripped and ruined dress and tore a chunk of fabric out of it. He wrapped it around her left arm. The bleeding had stopped there, but her side… had to hurry! He would've had to undress her to examine the wound properly. But there was no time. The train would be pulling off at any second, or worse, more men with weapons would appear. Wondering where the constable and bounty hunter wandered off to. Sweeney pulled out one of his shirts and began tying it around her waist, on her ribs. It would have to do for now. Once they get out of this bloody forest, he'd treat her wounds properly.

She was still unconscious. Not that she'd have the strength to walk anyway. He secured the bag across her shoulder and hoisted her onto his back. He stopped as the silver dagger caught his eye. He contemplated bringing it along but decided not to and left it laying beside the man who wielded it. Maybe the investigators will rule his death a suicide.

The train's whistle blew.

Sweeney halted his pace. They're were guards, mechanics, and other men outside the train. They all had guns and batons, blocking their path.

A fire awoken in him.

Just like killing the dreaded bounty hunter. And the constable, Sweeney's hands were tingling, remembering how the man's neck snapped like a twig.

He approached the small group of men; they're were ten of them of all different shapes and sizes. His hands held tight to the bottom of Nellie's legs, keeping her from falling. Her head was slouched over his right shoulder, her fiery dark curls spilling over his arm. The left side of him was covered in blood. Nellie's blood was still seeping from her side onto his side and down his arm. His front, neck, and face were speckled with the bounty hunter's blood.

The group of men, froze noticing their visitor. Their conversations forgotten. A few shouted for Sweeney to stop. Some raised their guns but didn't shoot. Others knit their brows together in confusion of what looked like an almost dead woman hanging off of him.

As the visitor approached closer. All ten expressions turned to fear. Guns and batons became difficult to hold with sweaty palms. Some continued screaming for the man to stop and not approach any further. Some of them backed away. Breathing heavily. They could've sworn the man's eyes were glowing red like the Devil's. With nervous gulps and shaking hands, the ten men prepared their fight with Lucifer.

Sweeney walked up the train car. It was set on a lower platform unlike all the others.

"I told you to stop!"

It was as if he didn't hear the men shouting, as if they weren't even there. He sunk to his knees, easing Nellie onto the ground.

"I said stop!" the annoying loud noise continued.

Sweeney placed the bag on the train car, bent down and scooped Nellie into his arms, laying her gently on her back with the bag. A bullet soar past above Nellie's chest and right next to his ear. It didn't matter that the bullet was the closest to him. It could've hit her.

Eyes wide, he turned around to look at the group of men. Nostrils flaring, eyes full of hatred. The man who fired the gun was the same one doing most of the shouting and ordering.

"Step away from the train." He said with a shaky breath. His hands were trembling but he kept the gun pointed at Sweeney. The razor was unsheathed and no guns dared fire again.

Sweeney blacked out. So consumed by a rage and fire. He was tired of being on the run, tired of the men and society around him. He thought leaving London would offer escape, but now it felt clear, the evil of man doesn't stop when one leaves London. The evil is everywhere, they could not escape it. Nellie's words from earlier this night forced their way into his brain. "What's the point?" He was in rage. Hearing Nellie being raped, just as Lucy was, it was unfair, despicable, miserable, fucked up, horrid, demented, evil, damned, the cruelty of man! He was screaming and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. The Judge… he took everything from him. And yet… it wasn't the judge's fault, not entirely. It was the greed of man. Those who are more successful, more powerful taking and getting what they want. They stole his family from him, his freedom, his happiness, his love. And now they're trying to take from him again. He. Will. Not. Let. Them. Not this time. Nellie's words from earlier flashed into his mind, something different than before, he could almost hear them, clear from her voice to his ear. He pictured her face saying them, eyes wet and puffy in the dark, empty train car. "There is no point in me living without you."

Drip, drip, drip. Echoed blood from Sweeney's chin into the dirt.

He was on his knees, sweat mixed with blood pouring down his face. His lungs greedily taking in as much oxygen as they could, his heart beat rapid.

A minute of silenced passed. All ten men laid slain around him. The pool of their blood expanded. Sweeney Todd stared at something small and broken in the red dirt at his knees. It was his razor, his friend, the one that ended the judge, the one that ended Toby, James the damn bounty hunter, a train conductor, a marine, a marine's friend, these ten men and countless others, laid fallen, broken in half at his knees. Bits of silver chipped off. He stared at it for longer than he needed to. It was just a razor, he has others. "Rest now my friend," he sang under his breath, "Now and forever."

He grabbed the handle with no blade attached, stuffing it into his pocket. His fingers touched a napkin. The napkin Mrs. Lovett scribbled the map of England onto.

The wheels of the train were moving.

Mrs. Lovett! He spun around, hopping onto the car next to where she lay. She was still asleep, he looked concerned, he couldn't tell if she was breathing. He grabbed her wrist and sighed in relief as he felt a small pulse. The train was picking up speed. Whistles blowing and more shouting could be heard. They're were more men, guards running after the train, pointing guns. Sweeney growled in annoyance. Would this night never end? Mrs. Lovett and him were out in the open, easy targets for aiming. Frantically, Sweeney peered over the side, wind whipping his hair around wildly. There was a compartment next to them with a door they could get into. But how?

He looked at Nellie's sleeping form, bracing himself. Taking a deep sigh, he leaned over here, trying to shake her awake.

"Mrs. Lovett… Mrs. Lovett!" he accidently grabbed her injured shoulder and she groaned loudly, shifting a little but not fully attentive. He kept calling her name, tapping her cheek. She just groaned not opening her eyes. He sighed in annoyance. Annoyed of this situation not of her. The men were falling behind but still on their trail, a few of them on horseback. He had his plan but he needed her to move.

He looked around the car for something, anything that could be useful. A rope. He grabbed it. He sat Nellie into a sitting position, her face scrunched up in pain. She was very weak, there was no possible way she'd be able to climb to the next car. She couldn't even stand or let alone sit up. He'd have to carry her. He placed the strap of their bag across her chest. And once again lifted her onto his back.

"Mr. Todd?" she mumbled barely audible into his left ear.

"Listen to me pet, I need you to hold onto me as tight as you can." He clutched her hands onto his vest to show what she needed to do. The whistles and shouts and gallops of the men still in the distance. Trying to signal the train to stop. Sweeney positioned the rope around the bag and around Nellie's waist tying her to him, careful to avoid her injured side. As he pulled making it tight as he could, she still winced. "Sorry," he muttered. He hooked her feet behind his knees. "Keep them there. And hold on." She nodded, her eyelids opening and closing, she still looked dazed.

Blowing wind matching the blowing whistles and shouts. He took a deep breath, praying for safety and walked towards the end edge of the car. There was a thin ledge for his toes to touch, a thin ledge above him for his fingers to grab a hold of. The rush of wind and speed of the train made his eyes water. Slowly, gritting his teeth, he shuffled along the side of the train.

The first seconds in, everything was going great. He kept an easy, careful pace. Watching his hands, daring them not to become sweaty. Mrs. Lovett's breathing was jagged in his ear, her breath hot on his face, he could feel her shivering from the cold. It assured him that she was still awake. She followed her orders and kept her feet latched to his legs; her fingers clutched to his shirt. A gust of wind harder than the others hit them. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep moving. He heard her whimper. "Almost there, pet." He heard a gun shot behind him. Like he didn't any other distractions at the moment. He managed to get his eyes open and they widened in horror of the approaching tunnel. Her breath calmed down and he stopped for a second. "Sweeney" she whispered. Her frame against his went still. Her legs fell limp underneath her.

"Nellie!" he shouted. "No, pet, hold onto me". The tunnel was gaining. He quickened his pace. The door on the side of the train almost in reach. Her fingers relaxed from her grip; he could feel her starting to slip. His hand reached the door handle. He paused steadying her weight onto his back. He inched closer to the door and let out a scream, channeling his strength and finally managed to force it open. The men on horseback feet away, bullets ricocheting off stone, and the same stone of the tunnel a mere inch away, without thinking, Sweeney flung himself into the car. Him and Nellie and their belongings landing with a sickening thud.

Safe.

The word echoed through her head.

The pain, the dirt, the blood, bleeding red moon, the man, his gray eyes full of lust, disgusting vulture that he was. Pain, hot, searing, oozing. It never ended. She looked into the gray eyes in horror as the man growled in lust, baring rows of sharp teeth. She opened her mouth to scream but only she could hear. Something stung and stabbed at her left arm and she screamed more. The man just laughed. He bared claws that dug into her left side, she wailed in agony. Where was her savior? If she even had one? Was she worth saving?

Her eyes flew open. Her head spun, the thoughts of her nightmare making her nauseous. She watched in growing horror as the room that was spinning was one, she didn't recognize. She swallowed and her heart sank into her stomach when she touched the covers of a bed that was not hers. She panicked and shot up into a sitting positon. The action caused a terrible pain to shoot through her side. She yelped loudly. The screech of chair legs on wood and the sound of something or someone hitting the floor followed. She scanned the room to see who this man was, looking around for a weapon and a quick exist. Dark waves with a white streak appeared over a table. He groaned in pain and picked himself and the chair he fell back in off the floor. When he saw that she was awake at last, his eyes lit up. "Mrs. Lovett." The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a small, gentle smile.

She sighed, leaning back on the bed, immediately at ease. He looked like he wanted to talk with her desperately. He walked over to a stove in the corner of the room pouring a cup of tea. "How are you feeling?" he asked handing the tea to her.

Her response was gripping the tea cup with haste, sipping gratefully, a small smile forming on her lips. She scanned the room again. It was a one room, small, wooden cottage." She winced at the pain in her arm and side. Out of curiosity she looked under the sheets and noticed that her dress was gone, replaced by nothing but a nightgown and the bandage around her ribs and around her arm. She looked at Sweeney quizzically.

"Sorry, I had to…" was he blushing? "I cut… your corset and…. to get to the wound…." She raised her eyebrows in slight amusement. "I found the nightgown in the bag." he looked away like he was embarrassed. She sipped her tea, eyes never leaving him. She became aware of the something brushing against her back and touching her elbows. Her eyes widen as she touched her hair. He looked back at her alarmed by her panicked look.

"My pins are gone." She exaggerated.

He let out a humorless, disbelief laugh. "You've just been raped and almost killed and you're worrying about your hair?" Her expression turned solemn. Raped. She clutched the sheets, gritting her teeth. "Sorry… I didn't mean to…"

"Where is he?" their eyes locked. "Did you kill him?"

He nodded, standing up he grabbed a plate, placing a baked potato on it for her to eat. "I'm sorry, his death was too quick." He set the potato on the bedside next to her. She didn't feel like eating. "He deserved a slow death, agonizing, for what he did."

"I wish he was alive." She said and he spun around to face her. "So I could kill him myself."

They looked at each other. A new bond felt formed between them.

"Well… I'll let you rest."

"First explain to me where we are." She said, grabbing the potato, digging in. He told her about the fiasco on the train and how it stopped moving somewhere in Leicester. How they walked for a bit until he found this cottage that appeared to be abandoned. He spared the details of treating her wounds, that adorable blush returning to his face. It was late in the evening. She felt exhausted even though she's been asleep for so long already. She settled into the bed. It was a single so Sweeney placed himself in the chair at the table. They watched each other in silence for a while until Nellie lifted the side of the covers and patted the bed for him to join her. He shook his head refusing. "Please don't sleep in a chair." She said. He hesitated before making his way over to her. He sighed, removing his shoes. Its not like they haven't snuggled before. He laid next to her. The bed so small, they're chests were touching and arms wrapped around each other.

"Are you sure you don't mind a man's touch." He asked her.

"A man's yes. Yours? … no." She closed her eyes and he smiled warmly.