Finally getting around to redoing the second chapter.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sweeney Todd. However, I do own Anthony's friend, Jacob Kelso. You might remember him from my other story, Chills. He resembles a long-haired Taylor Lautner with a cockney accent. He's big, but he's not very bright.


April 8th, 1874

It amazed Anthony how little help a map could be.

As had become his routine, he'd spent the majority of the morning and part of the afternoon wandering London in search of Hyde Park. Unfortunately, his map ended up leading him further and further into the city.

Damn it… This isn't Baker Street.

Anthony looked down at his map and sat down on a nearby bench. If he was going to figure this out, he probably shouldn't be absentmindedly walking, lest he trip over someone.

If I wasn't walking alone, I wouldn't be in this mess.

He sighed and examined his map. Of course, he was nowhere near his destination. Going by the street sign he'd seen just now, he was at least two miles away.

Oh my God. You've got to be joking.

After a few minutes of fruitless staring at the map, he began to hear a very faint, high-pitched voice. He looked up, and he could see a pale woman sitting in an upstairs window of the gray stone house in front of him.

Whoa.

Anthony stared up at her, mesmerized. Before he could stop himself, he stood and found himself wandering out into the middle of the street. From there, he could make out more details in her face. He could tell that she was young and blonde, and very pretty.

"My cage has many rooms, damask and dark. Nothing there sings, not even my lark. Larks never will, you know, when they're captive. Teach me to be more adaptive."

He couldn't hear her voice very well, but he assumed she was singing.

"Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing. If I cannot fly, let me sing!"

She looked down at him and a wistful smile spread across her face. Anthony felt his cheeks heat up as a small smile graced his own lips. However, the moment was over as quickly as it began, and the girl quickly turned and hurried away from the window.

"Alms! Alms for a miserable woman!"

Anthony backed up toward the sidewalk at the sound of a beggar woman's cry. He could hear her clothes rustling as she staggered toward him.

"On a miserable chilly morning!" She approached him and held out her hand. From his angle, he could see that she was rather short because she was hunched over so far, and she wore a bonnet that obscured her face. He reached into his pocket and placed two coins in her hand. "Thank you, sir!" She was about to hobble away when he touched her arm.

"Ma'am?"

She turned to look at him.

"Could you tell me whose house this is?" He asked.

"Oh… That's the great Judge Turpin's house, that is."

"And the young lady who resides there?"

"Oh, that's Johanna, his pretty little ward. Keeps 'er snug, he does, all locked up. So don't you go trespassin' there, or it's a good whipping for you, or any other young man with mischief on his mind!" The beggar woman turned away and began to stagger off. "Alms! Alms for a desperate woman!"

He watched her walk away before walking back to the bench.

This is a dream. This has got to be a dream. There is no way that this just happened.

Anthony pinched his thigh and cringed at the pain.

Huh. Not a dream. That's definitely a pleasant surprise. Hello there, Johanna.

He lifted his bag off the ground and slung it over his shoulder, cringing at the pain of what was left of his bruises. He gave Johanna's window one more glance before crossing the road.


"Hyde Park is that way, young sir!"

Anthony landed on the ground with a soft thud and a sharp exhale as the wind was knocked out of him.

"A left and a right straight on, you see? Move on, now!"

He felt two hands on his back push him over immediately after he'd tried to stand up, and just after he landed, he heard a metallic swish, and he felt what he assumed was a saber thump across his back. He lost his balance and coughed, but more in surprise than pain before he felt the toe of a boot nudge his ribs and turn him onto his back.

"You heard what Judge Turpin said, little man." A rat-like man came into view and brandished the tip of a walking stick at him. "Next time…" He pressed the tip into the sailor's forehead. "It'll be your pretty little brains all over the pavement." He snatched the walking stick away and disappeared back into the building.

Anthony squeezed his eyes shut as a coughing fit overtook him, and his already-injured ribs protested at the sudden movement. He turned onto his side and attempted to stand up.

Out of nowhere, a heavy, soft object slammed into his back and knocked him back to the ground.

Are you fucking kidding me? How many times is he going to hit me?!

He blindly felt around, only to find his knapsack on the ground next to him.

Oh.

Anthony grabbed his knapsack with a cough and stood. His legs were feeling a bit like jelly at this point, so he gripped a nearby wall for support and walked out of the alley.

Well Johanna, perhaps we'll meet again someday.


Later that day, after cleaning himself up a bit, Anthony found himself wandering around in search of food. He was quite hungry, despite feeling a bit nauseous.

Ah, there's a pub. Maybe they'll have something decent.

As he turned to enter the pub, he turned his head and caught sight of a tall, broad figure with tanned skin and long black hair running toward him.

"Hope! Wait up!"

"Kelso!" Anthony grinned and held his arms out to greet his friend.

"Oi!" Kelso jogged up to him and embraced him heartily. "I see you've survived your first two weeks in London."

"Barely." Anthony cringed and held a hand to the left side of his ribcage. "I got mugged on my third night."

"That's lovely." Kelso nodded in sympathy. "You all right?"

"Just a broken rib. I'm fine."

"That's what they all say." The taller boy looked up at the sign, and then at his friend. "Wanna go in? I'm starving."

Inside the pub, it was rather dark and the air reeked of pipe smoke, but it was reasonably quiet and the food was good.

"So…" Kelso leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his ale. "Anything interesting happen while you've been here?"

"Not really." Anthony sprinkled a bit of malt vinegar on a slab of fried fish. "Although, it turns out that the man that goes by Judge Turpin is absolutely batty."

"Oh, do tell."

"Well, for one thing, he had me beaten within an inch of my life just for glancing at his daughter."

"How scandalous." Kelso snickered into his ale. "A slap on the wrist for you, Mr Hope."

"Never mind that I've never even spoken to the girl, as much as I'd like to."

"Business as usual, then."

Anthony looked up from his food and raised an eyebrow.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's not like you really try to talk to any girls. Kind of makes me wonder."

Anthony gave him a glare.

"It's not like that. It's got more to do with the fact that the girls you try to set me up with are absolutely disgusting."

"They are not."

"They're all just so… How do I put this? They're all prostitutes."

"Not all of them!" Kelso protested.

"Just most of them." Anthony bit into a slab of fish. "Look, we obviously have different tastes in women. You'll go for anything that has breasts, and I prefer women that won't get me sick."

"Come on, man! I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need help. If I were interested in any of these girls, I'd pursue one of them."

Kelso rolled his eyes and called the barmaid over to request another ale.

"So Kelso, what about you?" Anthony quickly changed the subject. "Anything interesting to report?"

"Not really." Kelso shook his head as the barmaid placed a fresh pint of ale in front of him. "Thanks, love." He turned back to his friend. "Finally got an opportunity to try the legendary worst meat pies in London, though."

"Oh? Which place serves them?"

"It's over on Fleet Street. Mrs Lovett's Meat Pies. You heard of it?"

"Not until now. Looks like I'll have to try them and see."

"Sure, just make sure you wash it down with plenty of gin, though. That woman has no cooking ability."

"Lovely." Anthony cringed. For some reason, the thought of ingesting a meat pie was making him nauseous.

"I wouldn't advise trying them. You might as well just eat pub food while you're here." Kelso sipped his ale and studied his friend's face. He looked like he was about to be sick, and he'd gone pale. "Hey. You all right?"

"I'm fine." Anthony waved his hand dismissively and finished his food. The matter was dropped, and they paid their tabs and went their separate ways.


Is better. Much better!