A/N: Thank you all for such wonderful reviews, I'm quite flattered! I'll try to write and update as often as possible.
For all you hopeless romantics; this will not be a fic where Sweeney Todd is suddenly Benjamin Barker and they're making love in the first ten sentences. This is nothing of the sort, but not to worry, their relationship will develop in time.
Just another note- I tend to write somewhat out of order, please tell me if I'm being too scattered :)

Chapter Two

Yesterday Evening

Tobias Ragg stood idly at the shoppe's window, gazing out at the windy London evening. It was something he did after his cleaning was done for the day. Though a normal, happy look usually played upon his lips, tonight it was curved into a worried frown. His Mrs. Lovett had been out for much too long, he concluded, trying to catch a glimpse of the black billowing skirts that Mrs. Lovett wore so often. The time passed slowly and Toby ached, wishing to see his mum's gracious smile. It was a bit past dusk when he moved from his place and grabbed his edgy brown jacket.

Stepping out into the blowing cold, Toby pushed his hands into his pockets and walked out into the streets. His intuitive eyes scanned the dark shops on Fleet Street and he watched their owners blow out the candles from their windows. A little hesitant, Toby began walking into the night. "Mum?" he called out in a small, nervous voice. His face flushed and he began to shiver lightly. "Mrs. Lovett?" he called out again, receiving no response.

It was then when he heard the screams. The moment the sound hit the air, Toby knew something was wrong. There was a distant wailing from somewhere, off to the left. He quickened his pace, a haunting certainty to his gait. After hearing cry after cry become louder, Toby turned corners of streets, desperately trying to find where the trouble was. "Mum! Mum, I'm coming!" The small boy yelled, his voice frightened but determined.

Turning just one more corner, Toby spotted the scene. A large man in fine clothing was hovering over something, working himself onto it. The man shifted his body and Toby let out a horrified wail to find the beaten body of Mrs. Lovett underneath him. Judge Turpin turned around quickly at the sound, and Toby hid in the shadows. Turpin clasped a hand over Mrs. Lovett's swollen lips and kept very still, narrowing his eyes at the darkness behind him. Once he was sure that no one was in sight, however, he turned back with a smirk and continued.

Then, very slowly, Toby picked up a few broken pieces of brick from the side of the building he was up against. He crept toward the man, a daring glare in his eyes. After a chilling moment, Toby let out an angry scream and jumped onto the man, beating him over the head with the brick.

Turpin groaned and ended up rolling away from Mrs. Lovett's idle body. His face was bloody and he couldn't make out who was attacking him. He tried to push Toby off but the boy had firmly wrapped his legs around Turpin's waist. Toby, caught up in his protective fury, gave the man what he was asking for. Over and over again Toby smashed the broken brick into Turpin's skull until he lay motionless beneath him.

Toby hastily dropped the brick once his job was done and rushed over to Mrs. Lovett's body. In the dim light of the moon, he could tell she was mostly naked and badly bruised. He felt tears prick at his eyes and he took off his jacket, placing it on top of her. His mind racked on how he was going to bring his dear guardian to safety. He couldn't drag her across town, that would be ridiculous. He placed a shaking hand upon her pale cheek, his thumb grazing over a bruise gingerly.

Just then, Toby heard a scuffling of a trash can from behind him. He whipped around, ready to hurt, to kill whoever had used Mrs. Lovett so badly. The fierce boy stood, his hands in fists at his sides, to see the figure of a man standing not too far away. Toby charged at him, assuming it was Turpin, but he was thrown off by a few calm words.

"It's me, Toby."

He was only a foot away from pummeling the man when it clicked in Toby's head. His eyes lit up in relief but were then flooded with anguish. "Mr. Todd, mum's been beatin' awful bad, sir, you gotta help me--there was a man but I fought him off but Mum's not moving, Mr. Todd!" He continued to babble on helplessly, frightened tears finally streaming down his cheeks.

Sweeney Todd's face was impassive as he placed a hand on Toby's shoulder. He looked behind him to see the idle body of Mrs. Lovett in the corner. His eyes darkened a little and he walked over to her. Kneeling beside his accomplice, he tried to process what was happening. Beginning to lift her frail body in his arms, he saw Toby's shadow beside him. "A man, you said?"

Toby opened his mouth to curse the man who had used Mrs. Lovett, whoever he was, when he noticed something vital. Where was the bastard? He spun, looking closely from where he had left Turpin's body to the shadows surrounding them. "H-He's..gone! I had knocked him unconscious, I did, right there," he pointed desperately to the ground where some smears of blood could be seen. It was almost like the devil's canvas, the floor was. Toby shook his head, still a bit shocked. "But he was ontopa Mrs. Lovett, sir! He was hurtin' her real bad." Tears began to form in his eyes again.

Toby looked over to see Mr. Todd carrying Mrs. Lovett's body gently in his arms. He was staring at her face closely, a faraway look in his eyes. "Mr. Todd?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Sweeney's eyes flicked up at him sharply. "Come on, boy. She needs care."

Four hours later, Sweeney found himself sitting in Mrs. Lovett's rocking chair, a little tense. His pale, delicate hands gripped the wooden arms of the rocker firmly as he stared out into the upcoming morning. Despite the hour, he still adorned his usual attire: a worn, white long sleeved shirt, black pinstriped trousers, scuffed black shoes, a rough brown vest with cold buttons, and his edgy dark necktie. There was no need to change into something more comfortable for the man never slept. He didn't need to sleep. Sweeney Todd's existence was thought, rage, and blood. As long as he had these three things, nothing could stop him from being the demonic maniac he was.

He also found himself glancing again at the sleeping individual on the couch in front of him. Mrs. Lovett hadn't awaken once since he had brought her back home, and Mr. Todd often felt the itch to get up and check her pulse. But he knew she was okay by the way her chest lightly rose and fell with every breath. Shifting his glance back to the London street's, he replayed the events from earlier in his mind.

After sending Toby to bed wordlessly with a strong stare, he had placed her on the sofa, closing the curtains before attending to her wounds. Sweeney ignored the fact that he was seeing her naked body as he cleaned and bandaged the horrible cuts that were scattered across her pale skin. Whoever had done this to her must of had some passionate hatred to cause such harm to someone's body. Sickeningly, Sweeney almost felt laughter rising in his chest.

Quite contradicting for a murderer to ponder motivations of violence, Todd thought, a sharp breath taken by his patient drawing him from his muse.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes were shut tight as she began to cough. Mr. Todd felt awkward now, hovering over her naked body with a roll of gauze and gin.

"Mr. Todd, I'm so sorry..." he heard her rasp through her coughing fit. Sweeney gave Mrs. Lovett a puzzled, ashen look. He opened his mouth, wanting to question her apologies, but she swiftly fell back into her unconscious slumber. The tired man gave a deep sigh and continued wrapping some gauze around her wrist.

Even though he didn't meet the aching distress of young Tobias, Todd did feel bad that Mrs. Lovett had to endure something so ghastly. He had been able to tell that she was raped, horribly enough, by where her dress had been ripped and other obvious physical signs. Once he was done with her wrist, he stopped, his dead eyes gazing upon her. Aside from her wrist, there was a large gash on her hip, dark bruises on her arms and legs, some deep scratches by her chest and neck, and a nasty cut across her cheek. He frowned and stiffly walked over to Mrs. Lovett's bedroom to fetch something for her to wear. It was strange, having to care for her like this. Yet, something in the back of Sweeney's mind told him that if he didn't do all that he could, he wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself.

He gently pushed open the door and hesitated in the doorway, feeling as if he shouldn't be venturing into her private areas. What he was he kidding, he knew that Mrs. Lovett would have adored if he came into her bedroom. With that thought in mind, he took a bold step inside.

He walked to the far window and opened the shades to let some light into the room. Turning around, Sweeney Todd made a face as he studied her small quarters. Her bed was made neatly at the left, a soft dark red comforter tucked warmly into it's frame. Beside it, to his surprise, was a large book case with a vast collection of works of fiction, poetry, and romance. Todd raised his eyebrows. He did often see her with some sort of book in the evenings that he gave her his bloody laundry. Dismissing the thought, he walked over to her small wooden dresser against the right wall.

Opening the top drawer, he looked slowly looked inside. Neatly folded were some dressings and a few thin nightgowns. He began to imagine Mrs. Lovett standing where he was, late in the night, as she gently undressed and stepped into these fancy little numbers. Startled at where his vivid imagination was taking him, Sweeney hastily grabbed a nightgown at random and left the room quickly.

Seeing Mrs. Lovett in front of him now, his mind began swirl with the same unfamiliar images. It was now that he noticed the curves of her body, how soft and warm her skin was even though she had been taken from the cold. Her auburn curls were out of it's clips and she looked different now in the dull candle light. He stood there, almost ogling at her sleeping figure, a strange emotion arising from within him. Yet another thing that was unfamiliar to Todd, this strong desire that was building up. A desire for comfort. He suddenly felt cold, colder than usual in this small parlor, staring at his naked landlady--

"Mr. Todd, sir, what are you doing?" Toby asked from behind, his voice sleepy.

Mr. Todd didn't admit to himself that he jumped a little at his voice, but he did spin around. Toby stood, leaning against the parlor's doorway for support, in a pair of green pajamas. Dark circles under his eyes, the young boy yawned, the barber grateful that he was oblivious to his scandalous thoughts. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, but I couldn't sleep at all," he paused, looking into Sweeney's eyes now with a serious stare. "Mum needs me 'ere with her, even if she isn't awake."

Mr. Todd didn't respond. He instead turned around and walked to Mrs. Lovett, lifting her a little to slip on her nightgown. His growing desire still pulsed in his chest, but he pushed it away. He would not have such thoughts about someone who was merely a business acquaintance, he thought firmly. Lucy was the only one who could give him love and comfort, and she was gone. He could survive without it. As he stated before: He wasn't Benjamin bloody Barker anymore. He was Sweeney Todd. He had his thoughts, rage, and blood. He would live.

Sweeney let out an unsatisfied grunt as he sat in Mrs. Lovett's rocker, the sun steadily rising now. Even now, the want and desire to be held was overwhelming. It had been so long since anyone had shown him kindness. Fifteen years. Fifteen fucking years without any sign of compassion or affection. But he knew this wasn't true. Who had kissed his cheek every morning as he polished his marvelous blades? Who spoke only soft words of loyalty and kindness when he threatened their life? Who had-

Mrs. Lovett stirred suddenly in her sleep. Toby, who had been dozing and holding onto her hand, noticed immediately.

Before he knew it, Sweeney was standing and walking over to her. Even though her eyes were shut, he knew she was awake. Mr. Todd hesitated before lifting her up into a sitting position. Mrs. Lovett began to tremble intensely and he shot Toby a look. Toby stood and scampered to his room, quickly returning with a warm comforter. He placed it over her and, finally, Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes. "Mrs. Lovett?" Their eyes met.

"Oh, no."

Sweeney frowned and awkwardly patted her back, but the gesture soon melted into a embrace, wanting to be closer to her warmth. There was a true sorrow in her sobs that refrained him from letting go. He of course didn't like holding a woman that wasn't Lucy in his arms. But Sweeney had that little pinch of sympathy still in some dusty corner of his heart.

Mrs. Lovett and Toby cried for quite some time, and Sweeney didn't leave. His mind wandered off into compelling thoughts of death and hatred to the filth in London, the filth that raped his Lucy and raped this haphazardly innocent baker. Oddly enough, he was interrupted by a sharp pain toward his chest.

Nellie's head throbbed as she punched Mr. Todd furiously. Her anger and despair had rocketed in the past minutes, and she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to let it out, and what do you know, Mr. Todd was right in front of her. She blindly swung at him, trying to scream but failing as she had lost her voice crying out the night before. Instead, her curses came out as raspy whispers. Despite the pain running through her arms and wrist as she swung, and the swollen throb in her throat as she screamed, Mrs. Lovett didn't stop her raging outburst until two strong hands grasped her by the wrists.

Mr. Todd was taken aback by her sudden rage and simply watched her for a moment or two. Such emotion in her eyes. And by God, she was strong. He winced and knew that he had to stop her. Having a firm grip on her, Mrs. Lovett looked up at him, shaking with anger.

"Judge. Turpin." Mrs. Lovett mouthed almost inaudibly, and Sweeney's eyes flashed intensely. He abruptly let go of her, grabbed his coat, and stormed out of the pie shoppe.

Mrs. Lovett was suddenly aware of how much her body ached. It was probably not the best idea to use her already strained muscles in such a violent manner. Her face wet and itchy, she stared at where Mr. Todd had been. An excruciating pain shot through her wrist and she frowned.

"Mum?" she heard a small voice sniff. It took her a moment to realize that Toby was kneeling close to her, clinging to her dresses.

Mrs. Lovett looked into his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Ello dearie," she answered weakly, only to be reminded once more that her voice was gone.

Toby scooted up onto the couch and sat close to her. He wanted ever so badly to hold onto her and never let go, but he knew it would probably hurt her. His lip quivered and Mrs. Lovett ran a weak hand through his hair. "Don't speak, mum. It's okay, I understand." He paused. "I-I'm so sorry I couldn't 'elp you earlier, mum. I woulda straight out killed whoever was hurtin' you so bad, honest! I tried to find you as fast as I could!"

He saw her shake her head weakly, a sad and forgiving look in her eyes. "Toby," she croaked. Toby began to stop her but Mrs. Lovett beat him to the punch. "I'm okay now, love. Everything will be okay."

Toby sniffed again and snuggled himself gingerly underneath the warm comforter. Finding his way underneath her arm, he felt her stroke his hair tenderly. Easing down a bit, the boy hiccuped a cry. "I'm righ 'ere, mum. Nothings gonna hurt you," he whispered softly into the blanket. With that, he finally fell asleep.

A/N: Woo. Please review, my loves, and tell me what you think so far :)