A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait. Hopefully next time the wait won't be so long.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd. I wish I did... that'd be cool. I want my own personal Turpin! o.o did I just say that aloud...?

With this new information, I felt this certain excitement bubble up inside of me. I could save Sweeney, I could save Lucy! This was fantabulous! Without another moment's hesitation, I turned on my heels and began to race away, only to stop abruptly and turn back around. Toby; I couldn't leave him when there was a dead body in the caravan.

"Signor! I'm done tidyin' up!" Toby called as he stood up to head back into the caravan. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This was not good; he was going to see the dead body of Pirelli. What to do? I was panicking knowing that I had to act fast and I never did well under pressure. Think, Jamie, think… I looked down to my right and saw a small rock on the ground. With rapid movements, I picked it up and threw it at the back of the head of a passerby. He spun around on his heels and glared at me. No, he wasn't, he couldn't see me. He was glaring at Toby. Yes, my plan worked!

"Oi! Wot you think you're doin'?" the man demanded, starting to stalk towards Toby.

"Uh-oh," I heard Toby say quietly as he recognized the immediate danger. He broke off into a run and the man followed, but only at a quick paced walk. I felt bad for putting Toby through that kind of trouble, but he wasn't dumb, he knew how to get out of these situations, I was sure of it. Besides, it was either that or traumatize the lad.

Now that that had been settled, I went back to 186 Fleet Street, forgetting the current situation I was in at the moment, and strode right through the front door.

Mrs. Lovett sighed roughly as she tidied up from the day of work. A worthless day of work it had been. No customers as usual of course. She was beginning to wonder why she even bothered. Suddenly, her hopes rose a bit when she heard the ding of the bell, but when she turned around, no one was in sight. Feeling a little muddled, she returned to her work. Doing all of this worthless drudgery was beginning to get to her head, she decided.

The sound of footsteps was heard coming from upstairs. The same footsteps she had been hearing for most of the day. Sweeney should consider himself lucky. If Nellie didn't love him so much, she'd be fed up with noise. But it was quite the opposite. She loved the sound of his footsteps. It was soothing.

A clatter of chairs brought Mrs. Lovett from her thoughts back to reality. She looked over the counter and saw that a few chairs in the shop had been moved, as if someone had run into them. Curious, Mrs. Lovett moved around the counter and went over to the chairs. They definitely were not in that position before; the dust on the floor gave that away. Something very odd was going on…

Shit, ow, that hurt! I could not believe that I was that stupid to run into the chairs! I was sneaking around them so well and then BAM! I really had to work on my sneaking skills otherwise this wouldn't work out at all.

I had completely forgotten that I couldn't be seen or heard unless I moved other objects. I had to find a way to sneak out of the pie shop and go up to the barber's shop without Mrs. Lovett noticing… there was no chance of that happening; she was suspicious now, or just thinking she was going crazy. Either way, I was screwed. Hm… perhaps I'd be able to walk through walls? Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett were able to do with when I lived with them two years ago. Doing my best not to run into anything again, I snuck upstairs to Sweeney's bedroom seeing as it was right next to the barber's shop.

The bedroom looked no different than how it would look in the future. Why would it? From my knowledge, Sweeney barely slept at all anyway. I pressed my ear to the wall to see if I could hear anything and I did: Sweeney pacing… again. He really needs a new hobby, I thought to myself as I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to get through the wall. Just walk through it? That seemed a bit too simple… but it was worth a shot.

It didn't work of course. Making a face of deep thinking, I decided to try a really stupid idea. I backed up and ran at the wall full speed. It didn't work and now I was in pain. Why I was in pain I didn't know why. Then I remembered two years ago when I accidently made Sweeney bleed. Mrs. Lovett had said that "life's funny like that." Yeah, funny.

Okay, so obviously just walking through the wall wouldn't work and neither would running at it. There had to be a way to do this. Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett did it, so why couldn't I? I didn't dare trying running at the wall again, but I did tap on it a few times, as if in Morse code (but I didn't know Morse code). Surprisingly, I heard someone tapping in return: Sweeney. I grinned and tapped again, only to receive more tapping in response. If it was Morse code, I had no clue as to what we were communicating. Finally I just gave up on the tapping and shouted, "How do I get through the freakin' wall?" I awaited an answer that seemed to take forever. And I waited forever to hear only one word,

"Concentrate."

So I shut my eyes tightly, leaned against the wall and concentrated really hard. A little too hard; my head started to ache. So I decided to do something smart and concentrate a little less. I felt this odd sensation spread through me and the next thing I knew, I was falling through the wall and crashed to the floor of the barber's shop.

"Ow," I moaned as I stood up and rubbed my head to soothe the minor pain. Sweeney smirked and I made a face.

He took out his razor and started to sharpen it. I rolled my eyes; he seriously needed some new hobbies. "Well, what have you done now James?" he asked, acting a bit disinterested though I knew at heart he was intrigued. "And hurry up why don't you? Pirelli is due to arrive any mo-"

"You don't need to worry about him," I interrupted. "He had a little… accident." As I said those words, there was a sudden chill in the air and a murderous glint in Sweeney's eyes. He stopped sharpening his silver companion and raised it a bit.

"What. Did. You. Do?" he questioned in a dark, threatening voice. I gulped, now feeling like what I had done was not good after all.

"Pirelli, he's erm, dead," I explained, feeling incredibly uneasy. I gave a sheepish grin, as if that would help matters. It didn't.

Next thing I knew, I was being pinned against the wall, Sweeney's razor to my throat. I was awfully confused. Why was he so upset? He wasn't a murderer; he didn't have to worry about his secret getting out.

"D-dad," I choked out, feeling the pain as Sweeney dug his razor into my skin. "You're- you're hurting me." This did nothing though. I felt the warm beads of blood form as the razor broke my skin. I wasn't sure if I could actually die or not, but at this point, I really felt like Sweeney was going to kill me. "Dad, please," I begged, his hand that was pinning me against the wall moving to hold my throat. My oxygen was cut off; I couldn't breathe!

The next thing I felt was pain and a warm wetness covering my front as Sweeney dragged his razor across my throat.

Everything went black.