That morning, Sweeney woke up as he typically did. The first moments of his day were spent in a calm haze, wherein he sometimes forgot the reason for his return to London, and the rage that he felt. Rather, he remained in an almost dreamlike state, feeling as if nothing was bothering him.

…Until it all came rushing back, hitting him full-force and filling him with the anger and misery he was so accustomed to.

On this particular morning, the thought of his beloved did indeed come rushing back, but alongside it came the realization that it was really cold. Colder than usual. In fact, Sweeney could see his breath in the air as he exhaled. How on earth had he slept through that?

He supposed it didn't matter. He'd simply light the stove and wear his jacket until the room heated up, and go on with his day.

00

Of course, the stove didn't work.

Sweeney spent a considerable amount of time trying to take it apart, examine the inside of it, and get the damn thing to light, only to be met with failure with each attempt.

The sun was rising higher in the sky by the time he gave up. Scowling, he wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. Perhaps Mrs. Lovett would allow him to sleep downstairs that evening, where it was warmer, but for the moment, he had customers to attend to. He would just have to cope.

00

The first two men who entered were nobodies; Sweeney had no interest in them beyond their money. He got them shaved and out of his shop as quickly as possible. Both of them, satisfied with his service, had left decent tips as well.

He heard the door open once more and looked up to see Anthony entering. He held a tray in his hands, on which a mug and a plate were sitting.

"Morning, Mr. Todd!" The younger man greeted him. "I stopped by to see Mrs. Lovett, and she asked me to bring you your tea. There's a pie there, too."

Sweeney made a face as he looked the pie over. Knowing what was probably in it, he avoided it, picking up the mug of tea instead. He sighed as he drank it. The warmth of the tea felt good going down.

"Mind if I hang around a bit?" Anthony asked, in between sips of his own tea.

Sweeney shrugged.

"It's terrible cold, but you're welcome to stay."

Anthony nodded. The cold didn't bother him all that much. The fact that he was dressed in several layers helped keep the worst of it at bay.

He sat down on top of the trunk. Within moments, another customer arrived.

Anthony watched as Sweeney prepared his razors and skillfully shaved the man, leaving his customer happy and impressed. As the man left, a strong wind swung the door open and blasted into the room. It caught Sweeney off guard. The icy cold hit him like a brick wall and he began to cough.

At first, he didn't panic. The cold air sometimes did that to him and caused his lungs to seize up. The pollution of London didn't help things much either. But when the coughing didn't subside and it grew harder and harder to draw in any air, he began to worry.

"An… Anth-" He started, but was overtaken by a stronger fit. It caused him to double over, crashing into his chair and scattering his instruments to the floor.

"Oh lord," Anthony mumbled, getting to his feet. He tried to help Sweeney up, but the man was curled in a ball on the floor, coughing heavily, tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm getting Mrs. Lovett, I'll be right back!" Anthony said before he ran from the room.

00

Mrs. Lovett made her way upstairs as quickly as possible, skipping steps as she went to get to her tenant as soon as she could. She ran in to find Sweeney nearly crying as he continued to cough. His face was pale and his lips were starting to turn blue.

"Mr. Todd, dear," She turned him over so that he was lying half in her lap. "You've got to calm down!"

She noticed his whole body was shaking. He was either absolutely terrified or dying. The fact that he was still conscious told her that he was getting at least some air, so she went with terrified.

"I've got you now. You'll be alright, come on," She urged, trying to get him to sit up. He refused to move, and she noticed that he was now gripping her dress as if his life depended on it.

Frowning, she began rubbing his side and back, doing anything she possibly could to help him calm down. The panic was making him breathe harder, while making him light headed, which just made everything that much worse.

It was of no use. A few seconds later, he stopped shaking and his grip softened. He closed his eyes and fell into unconsciousness.

00

The next time Sweeney woke, he was somewhere warm and soft. He tried to push himself up, but someone pushed him back. His head hit a pillow and he opened his eyes a little wider.

Mrs. Lovett sat at his side, leaning over him.

"Stay in bed, love." She told him, as she pulled a blanket over him once again. "You had one of your attacks and you fainted. The lad and I brought you down here to my rooms where it's warmer."

Hearing this, Sweeney groaned. He began to take inventory of himself and realized that much of his body hurt. It was as if he pulled several muscles all at once.

"Hurts…" He mumbled, giving Mrs. Lovett a very sad expression.

Mrs. Lovett sighed.

"Oi, stop with the puppy dog eyes. I expect you're in a bit of pain. You were thrashin' about quite a bit, and you fell and hit your side and arm. Nothing's broken but you'll be bruised awhile. Now, you go back to sleep. The stove upstairs will be fixed by tomorrow but you'll stay here tonight. Your friend's here, by the way."

Sweeney glanced over and noticed Anthony sitting in a chair nearby.

"Glad you're back with us," Anthony said, smiling. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Scared the hell out of myself," Sweeney admitted. He groaned and snuggled more deeply under the blankets. They smelled like Nellie, like roses and tea. He found the scent to be surprisingly comforting.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, a thought popped into his mind.

"You'll tell no one of this," He said, glaring at the younger man.

"Of course not," Anthony agreed. "It's our secret."

Sweeney nodded and closed his eyes again. He sighed as another thought occurred to him.

"And… you'll stay, right?" He asked softly.

Anthony smiled again and patted Sweeney's arm.

"I'll stay. I promise."