A/N: I know the last chapter hardly made any sense and I'm sorry to say, neither does this one. But it will in the next chapter I promise! It just didn't want this chapter to drag on and on and it seemed to be doing that. So next chapter, it will all be explained.
Disclaimer: see previous disclaimer
When I finally came around, my head was throbbing and my back ached greatly. My vision remained blurred for many minutes and when it cleared, I saw where I was. It startled me to see that I was no longer outside where I blacked out, but in the pie shop. Lucy appeared next to me, looking very nonchalant.
"Why the hell did you push me down the stairs?" I demanded loudly. Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise because of my language, but said nothing about it.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "but it was necessary." Necessary? How the hell is pushing anyone down the stairs necessary? Ow, even thinking hurt. For the first time, I actually looked around the shop. something was different about it. It was duller, dreary, yet at the same time had the feeling of life, unlike how it felt the very first time I stepped into the place two years ago.
Humming could be heard from the parlor and I froze. That voice, I knew that voice anywhere. But it couldn't be. She was dead; Nellie was dead! This was why I jumped in shock when the baker entered into the pie shop. "Holy shit," I breathed, but Mrs. Lovett just kept going on about her business, as if Lucy and I weren't there. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed louder, but again I went unnoticed. What the hell was going on?
Lucy smiled sympathetically. "She can't hear or see you," she explained.
I raised my eyebrows. "So it's like I'm the ghost this time?" Well this certainly was interesting. Curious, I stood up for the booth and walked over to the baker, who attempted to make another pie. I waved my hands in front of her face, shouted in her ear, but no reaction. "Wow this really sucks," I commented, crossing my arms and sitting back down.
"Don't fret, you'll more than likely get use to it," Lucy assured me, but I found that piece of information hard to believe. Lucy didn't know me well enough to say such a thing.
Suddenly, I felt rather panicked. I was the ghost this time. So did that mean, "I'm dead?" I asked. I mean, Lucy did push me down the stairs, though I have no clue why.
Lucy chuckled lightly and shook her head. "No Jamie, you're not dead. I wouldn't dare kill an innocent person." Lucy then paused, watching Mrs. Lovett intently, as if watching the baker attempt to make pies was the most interesting thing in the world.
Something still confused me though. How was Mrs. Lovett here? Was she a ghost again? And if she was, wouldn't that mean that she'd be able to see me? She clearly didn't and didn't hear me either. Before I could ask Lucy anything else, the door to the pie shop was opened, the bells chiming. In stepped the infamous Sweeney Todd.
My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. Next to me, Lucy vanished and I was alone with the demon barber and baker. It was like old times, except for the fact that I could neither be seen nor heard.
Mrs. Lovett gasped as she saw Sweeney, as if looking at him for the first time. "A customer!" she exclaimed excitedly and I immobilized one more. Those words, the way she said them, they were from the first time Sweeney walked into her shop. But that meant…
With my eyes still wide, I turned to look out the window. The sight was indescribable. People passed by the shop, not giving it a second glance. The men dressed formerly, wearing ties and trousers, and every woman and girl wore a dress. Everything was so gloomy and had the feel of old fashioned.
That's when it clicked. I was back in time in the year 1847, the day Sweeney Todd first came to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop after fifteen years of being imprisoned in Australia.
As Mrs. Lovett directed Sweeney to a seat, he noticed me, actually noticed me, very much unlike Mrs. Lovett.
"Can you see me?" I asked quietly, just double checking to make sure he was really looking at me instead of past me or at something else. Sweeney nodded, looking at my clothes. They must've looked incredibly odd to him. But no, that wasn't it.
"Jamie?" he questioned and I couldn't have felt happier. He saw me, heard me, and even knew who I was! I nodded vigorously, a wide smile spread on my face.
"Wot was tha'?" Mrs. Lovett asked Sweeney, having had heard him say my name. Sweeney looked over to her and shook his head, silently telling her to just forget about it. Mrs. Lovett simply shrugged and went on about her business as Sweeney glared at the pie in front of him.
"Psst," I whispered to Sweeney. He moved his gaze to me, quickly glancing at Mrs. Lovett to make sure she wasn't looking.
"What?" he asked quietly, his voice still harsh like it always was.
"How do you know it's me?" I questioned him. It seemed that he was the only one that could see me, which made sense as to why Lucy disappeared. "What I mean is how do you remember who I am?"
"Let's not talk about this right now," he said through partially gritted teeth, doing his best to keep his voice low. This time, Mrs. Lovett looked up and Sweeney quickly grabbed the mug of ale, taking a sip.
"Trust me dearie, It's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash the taste out," Mrs. Lovett commented, moving away from the counter. If Mrs. Lovett spoke those words exactly as she had before, then I knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Mrs. Lovett offered to get Sweeney some gin, and he followed her into the parlor.
Sweeney sat in a chair, his tumbler of gin in hand as he stared blankly into the fireplace, the flames reflected in his dark eyes.
"You've a room over the shop. Times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?"
"Wot, up there?" Mrs. Lovett glanced up to the ceiling, putting away the gin bottle as she did so. "No one'll go near it. People think it's haunted. Ya see, years ago, something happened up there, something not very nice." And she plunged into the tale of what happened between Lucy and Judge Turpin.
The awful scene played out in my head. The Judge cornering a semi-drunken Lucy, the other guests gathering around and laughing at the horrid sight of Turpin raping Lucy Barker; I shook my head, clearing it of the wretched images. Sweeney's shouting helped.
"No!" he exclaimed, standing up from the chair he was seated at. A bit of gin sloshed over the side of his glass. "Would no one have mercy on her?" he asked absent-mindedly. There was something in Sweeney's eyes though; something that told me he already knew the answer, that he knew everything that was going to happen. I was able to convince myself that that was not true, that I imagined the whole thing. Besides, Sweeney always had that look.
"So it is you, Benjamin Barker," Mrs. Lovett breathed. I was beginning to grow rather bored. This whole thing, I knew it by heart. I had my own questions to ask. Careful not to brush past Mrs. Lovett for I didn't know yet if she could tell I was there or not, I moved so I was next to Sweeney. When I was, I whispered to him,
"I have to speak to you now." My voice was soft, yet stern, proving to the barber, about to be murderer, just how urgent what I had to say was. Sweeney subtly nodded, looking as if he were responding to Mrs. Lovett.
"Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you Mr. Barker," Mrs. Lovett sighed as she stood up.
"No," Sweeney snapped, facing the baker, "not Barker. That man is dead," I rolled my eyes as Sweeney spoke.
"Yes, we know," I muttered under my breath.
"It's Todd now, Sweeney Todd, and he will have his revenge," Sweeney and I said in unison. He shot a glare at me and I smirked in return. Mrs. Lovett noticed the direction of Sweeney's glare and eyed him suspiciously.
"Righ'," she nodded slowly, already thinking that perhaps this new man was a tad bit insane. "Come with me," she said suddenly, starting to leave the parlor. "I wanna show ya somethin' tha' you migh' like."
I followed the duo up the outside barber's shop stairs. The bell, though it hadn't been used for such a long while at this point, dinged softly as Mrs. Lovett opened the door, gaining entrance to the dusty shop. She wandered over to the window, kneeling down and finding a removable floorboard, revealing the hollow in the floor.
"When they came for the girl, I 'id 'em, could'a sold 'em, but I didn'." An old box was opened, showing off the gleaming razors Sweeney was oh so fond of. "Them angels is chaste silver, ain't they?"
Sweeney nodded rather gravely. "Silver, yes," he agreed, examining the blade. "My friend," Sweeney muttered. His voice so quiet, I seemed to be the only one to have heard him. I moved so I stood next to Mrs. Lovett, in front of Sweeney so he wouldn't be glaring next to him when I began tapping my foot impatiently. Sure enough, he glared at me and Mrs. Lovett looked next to her, but let it go again.
"Leave me," Sweeney commanded Mrs. Lovett quietly and she obliged like she always did. After Mrs. Lovett left the barber's shop upon Sweeney's request, I took that as my cue to talk.
"Okay, and I ask you this again, how do you know it's me?" I also wondered how he was the only one to see and hear me, but it'd be for the best to not ask all of my questions at once.
Sweeney stood up and began pacing, as if deep in thought. He kept opening and closing his razor with a simple flick of his wrist. "How did you get here?"
"I asked you first," I pointed out, earning me yet another deadly glare from the barber. I couldn't help but think to myself that this guy needed to learn other facial expressions. Sighing roughly, Sweeney let my question be the first to be answered.
"It's complicated," was all he said. Really? I was from the future, he shouldn't know me yet and all he could say was, "it's complicated"?
"Care to elaborate?" I asked with a hint of disdain, my arms crossed.
"Well, haven't we grown up into a little snob?" Sweeney sneered, putting away his razor back in the box with the others and took the box to the vanity. Aha, so he did remember me! And I was sure it was more than "complicated".
"Yes, we have," I retorted, crossing the room to stand next to the forever gloomy barber. "The only difference between us is that you won't answer my question properly."
Whoa wait, wait hold up! Why in the world were Sweeney and I acting like this? We never got like this with each other. Okay, okay, fine, we never got like this with each other starting about a year and a half ago.
Sweeney opened his mouth, no doubt to say some rather profound words, but shut it again, as if he was having the same thoughts as I was. He walked over to the window and sat down, leaning on the wall. "Where do you want me to start?"
"At the beginning."
A/N: Who's confused? Well don't you fret, as I've said previously, it will all be explained in the next chapter. Reviews appreciated. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter!