Sweeney left Erik still contemplating this new twist of fate on the docks. He had, by chance, been lodged in the room next to Christine and her husband Raoul. He had very much wanted to go straight home after his escape, but knew that being caught would make matters worse. While he didn't know if anyone was actively looking for him, he couldn't take the risk.

He had met them in the lobby of the hotel. The girl's husband had gotten them a room, asking that the staff take care around his wife. At first, she seemed like a normal, if not very quiet girl. Christine was, however, completely deranged, as Sweeney found out when someone tried to talk to the girl. She mostly just muttered to herself, but all found out later she would revert to awful screams and pleas for forgiveness, although she was very quiet most of the time. Raoul had locked her in the room if he left the inn for anything. Taking pity on the child, Todd had taken to speaking to her through the walls. At first the sound of his voice through the wall drove her into a complete frenzy, but when she finally calmed enough to realize that he was merely in the next room, not the disembodied voice of her guilt, she seemed almost happy to have someone to talk to. She was never completely free, though, and always reverted to raving after a few minutes of clarity. The presence of her husband, Sweeney had noticed, seem to make matters worse. Over the course of three days, while her husband was out on errands –or wanting to escape his delirious wife, Sweeney pondered- she told him about Erik, the Phantom of the Opera and how she had left him for dead after vowing to be his wife. That she and her husband had travelled from place to place, trying to outrun the voice in her head. Finally, over the last few months, she had become nearly completely insane, with only mere moments of clear-thought. She also warned him of Erik's face, but Sweeney was sure he'd seen worse in Australia, where horrific mutilation was a way of settling scores…or a hobby. She had begged him to give Erik a message, should they meet. By that time, Sweeney was quite sure they would. He had memorized the message perfectly, but would not tell Erik just yet. Erik was going to make a good pawn for his scheme and he wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of that. He was a tad disappointed that it had only taken an hour or so of searching to find him, but he had seen madness in Erik's eyes. Perfect madness, which was just what Sweeney needed.

Erik sat in the depths of the Opera House, thinking about what he had just done. He sensed Todd wasn't telling him everything, but knew the man had indeed spoken to Christine. He also now knew he had driven the girl mad. Perhaps in her madness she would understand him and come home. He wheezed a bit. His proclamation to the Persian that he was dying had turned out to be annoyingly wrong, but that didn't mean that his health was in good shape. He had apparently acquired asthma, probably because, with the Opera House deserted, there was no more warmth seeping down from above and mold, mildew and the now-pervading chill had moved in. His carefully concocted potions had warded off the worst of it, but Erik couldn't ignore that he would probably not make the year. But if she came home to him, he would live a thousand years if it would make her happy. If only…

This Todd fellow intrigued him. The man obviously wanted to be home, but had detoured into Paris. Granted, ships needed supplies, but Sweeney had been looking for him. Looking for someone as mad as he to help him execute his revenge, so he said, but Erik thought there might be something Todd definitely had held back. Granted, he hadn't taken particular care to stay hidden, but then, he always had his hat drawn down and kept to the shadows. Either way, a single man in Paris was a difficult thing to find. Sweeney would have had to have started at the Opera House. He had been waiting for him. This enraged Erik further, both at Todd and himself for not noticing he was being tailed. Todd had given him the address he was staying at, a run-down hotel on the outskirts of the city and Erik considered hunting him down and killing him. However, the promise of somehow reconnecting with Christine and exacting his revenge upon the boy was something he would not, could not pass up.

London…they were going to London…

London… It may have been home once, but Sweeney hated the place now. Turpin had stolen all the light and love out of it, when it had truly been home. Now, the very thought of the city turned his stomach and he knew the air would stink of bad memories and broken futures. And evil. Once it had been home, but no more…now it was only a destination, a place to find his precious Lucy and Johanna and bring them away from that awful city of evil. Maybe they would go to the mountains, or maybe even America. He fingered the sharp edge on the worn razor he had bought from someone in Australia, before he'd slit the convict's throat with it. His razors, the special ones he and his wife had saved so long to buy, he would have to retrieve those, if they hadn't been sold or lost. With those, he could build a new life for them wherever he went.

Sweeney vowed to be happy with his wife and child again, even if it meant taking apart the whole world, or the life of an already damaged man. Whatever life Erik might have had, Sweeney decided coldly, had fled with the mind of that poor crazed girl. No, Erik was his pawn and his revenge meant more than Erik's measly half-life. He was sure Erik would do the same to him eventually.

Erik gathered up his meager possessions and prepared for what he forsaw as an extremely uncomfortable trip to London. Todd had somehow procured passage for the two of them on a ship to London through a sailor friend named Antony. They had apparently met before when Todd failed in his attempt to board Anthony's ship from a makeshift raft and had fallen into the sea. Anthony had pulled him to safety and hidden him on the ship; they had become something of guarded friends. Anthony reminded Erik of Raoul and it was all he could do not to strangle the boy on immature principle. Anthony was young and innocent to most of the evils of the world, but not completely blind to it. He drifted through the world with an air of near-invincibility that only came with the very young. Erik envied him the ease at which Anthony passed through the world. They hid Erik in the hold, although Anthony worried needlessly about Erik's comfort. Erik assured him that he would be fine; he had travelled in this way before. While Anthony was quite obviously afraid of him, the young man was still polite and friendly towards him and grilled him with questions on his other travels. Erik answered them with a small element of surprise, as no one except Christine had ever taken much of an interest in his past. He noticed Anthony also took the same attitude with Todd, and although Todd was certainly far cooler in his reaction to Anthony, Sweeney did seem to like the boy.

When Erik asked where Todd had gotten the money for passage, Todd answered that some things were better left unknown.

They pulled into port in London after what seemed like an eternity to Erik, who disliked sea travel, and Erik watched Todd and Anthony stand on the deck together, watching them come in. Erik wished he could stand there with them, but he knew he could not. He was a creature of the shadows and always would be. He saw Anthony glance back at him where he hid in the shadows and beckon him to come stand with them. Erik shook his head mutely and returned to the cargo hold. A neat way of tying in with the show/movie.

"Well, no place like home, is there, Mr Todd?" the boy said. Todd shrugged.

"This isn't home, Anthony. Not anymore," he murmured. Anthony frowned.

"I thought you said you were from London."

"I was from London. I do not call the place home any longer. Any more than our masked companion down there calls Paris home. Home means something to come home to and neither of us have anything." Anthony glanced back to where Erik had been standing.

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying, how long have you and Mr. Erik been friends?" he asked hesitantly.

"We're not. He's...useful," Todd replied distantly. Anthony frowned again.

"You two seem to have much in common. I thought you would be friends," he insisted. Todd shook his head slowly.

"No, we're partners. Not friends."

As they disembarked, Todd turned to look for Erik. He saw him several yards away, attempting to fend off a beggar woman.

"Oh, sir, any alms for a miserable woman?" she asked. Erik gently pushed her away.

"I'm sorry, dear woman, I have nothing to spare," he said softly. The woman stared at Erik for a moment and turned to Sweeney.

"Hullo, love! Any alms for a miserable beggar? If you like, you can have me right here on the street for it!" she announced. Todd made a face and he shoved her roughly away.

"Off with you! Get away!" he roared. The woman hesitated and took a step back towards Todd.

"Don't I know you?" she asked. Todd's face twisted in a grimace of rage and he grabbed the woman's arm and savagely threw her to the ground.

"No, you don't!" he growled. Anthony was watching in horror.

"Mr. Todd, she's only a little beggar woman! Please don't treat her that badly!" he exclaimed. He dropped a few coins to the pavement near the woman.

"Call the Beadle! Beadlebeadlebeadlebeadle dum dum beadlebeadlebeadle..." she began to mutter.

"Todd, she's insane, I don't think you can really fault her for her actions," Erik said.

"She's one of thousands, Mr. Todd. You can't beat them all to the ground," Anthony said. Erik silently agreed; he had lived in Persia and seen first-hand how awful poverty was. Todd shrugged.

"She and the rest of her kind are proof that this city has gone to hell in a hand-basket!" he snapped, turning away and walking down the street.

"I have some business to attend to. Alone," he said over his shoulder. Erik watched him go. He knew where he was going and almost felt a little pity for the man. Almost, but not quite. Anthony glanced at him.

"Do you..."

"I can find a place to stay, Anthony. Go find something else to do," Erik told him. He saw Anthony sag with relief. Yes, you and everyone else. Erik walked down the streets, looking for a place to hide for the evening. As he walked, the very same beggar woman they had encountered before ran straight into him.

"'Scuse me, sir. I be looking for the Beadle I am. Is you the Beadlebeadlebeadle," she mumbled.

"It's alright, madam," Erik murmured. He finally got a glance at the woman's face. She had once been very pretty, but something had twisted her features and years of disease and poverty had worn down her visage to near-bone.

"Do you remember your name?" he asked quietly. He felt a sudden, alien sense of sympathy. Was his Christine to end up like this woman, raving and prowling the streets for bread and coins?

"My name? Oh, my name, sir, is my name," she babbled. Erik sighed and patted the woman on her back. She looked up at him suddenly, and threw herself into his arms. Erik froze.

"Lucy!" she sobbed. Erik blinked under his mask. Lucy....

"Was your husband arrested?" he asked.

"My husband gone away! Awayawayawayaway, like a great bird, he flown away! My little Johanna bird...flown awayawayaway..." she chanted. Erik backed away from her and she waved goodbye as he walked away.