*cry cry tears of sorrow* You guysss, I'm so sorry for the long wait. School is a PAIN. I give you this chapter in what I thought was long (5 pages) but it's only 2000 or so words. WHY DOES THAT NOT SEEM LIKE ALOT? MAYBE IM JUST STRESSED. Don't hate me guys. T.T

So, I first want to give out the answer to the little quiz from last chapter. The substance was Zydrate, Graverobber was sellin' it, Amber Sweet was buyin', and it's all from the movie Repo: The Genetic Opera! If you haven't seen it, go now.
The winner was JDLuvaSQEE! And her prize has been uploaded (a long time ago but yeah) so if you like George Jung/Sheldon Jeffrey Sands then go read it. It's just sorta PWP, but w/e.

Other entries included: Max Payne with the drug Valkyr and the priest and Juliet from Romeo and Juliet and the pain killer is
the sleeping potion.

Both good guesses, but not quite it! ;)

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY REVIEWERS~
mizukicrandall, StarStorm199, KKMARIE2121, Fanta Talon Kingsley, Whitewolf, Miss Annabel Lenore Ragg, luvbubbles, WhiteWolfGirl12, Rogue Blade, RebeccaSeverusSnape, xxMasonAndAlex4Everxx, Hotpinkwonderland, and ZeldaNut1!

After rereading some of your reviews, I'm really hoping I didn't get too OOC with this chapter. TECHNICALLY, they'll have to be OOC to be together in the first place, so like, have that in mind... Thanks for reading! I LOVE YOU GUYSSSS.

When Toby awoke, he hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. He slowly sat up in his bed, pushing the blankets away and trying to remember how he got there. With a mind full of sleep induced fog, he rubbed his face, hitting his nose and wincing at the dull pain it brought. He suddenly had flashes of a wicked grin and rough hands on him, then blood, then singing. Singing. Toby's eyes flew wide open, and he looked all around his room. The barber wasn't there anymore. He must have left after Toby fell asleep. Toby felt his cheeks heat up. He'd fallen asleep in the arms of the man, his head on his shoulder. He groaned. What was going on with him? Why would he turn to a murderer for comfort? Why did he love the feeling of his hand on his shoulder? Maybe he liked- Toby shook his head. No, no, bad thoughts! There was no way he... No.

Toby stood up from his bed and made his way to the kitchen/shop. He needed something to help his growing headache, and that bottle of gin was sounding pretty good right about now. The scent of spices and fish wafted to his nose as he entered the shop, and what he saw made him freeze in his tracks. Sweeney stood behind the counter and was chopping vegetables and measuring herbs and throwing them into a nearby pot. Sweeney was cooking. Toby stood there and just blinked at the man, completely and utterly dumbfounded. Never in his life would he think he'd see this man, this murderer, sleeves rolled up and hair mussed, chopping carrots with such precision. Artist with a knife didn't just apply in the barber shop.

Sweeney looked up when he finally felt Toby's eyes boring a hole into him, and he started a little bit, almost taking out a chunk of his finger with the blade. They stared at each other for a minute before Sweeney broke the silence with an awkward cough. "I, uh, don't suppose you'll be having what I'm having," He motioned towards the pot with the knife. "So, you'll want to find your own dinner."

Toby nodded, but slowly made his over to the pot and peered inside. The fish they'd bought earlier was sliced and diced at the bottom of it, along with a mixture of vegetables and spices. It filled Toby's nose and he could just about taste it on his tongue, and it was... good. Perhaps he could try it. Fish wasn't really a meat, was it? It definitely couldn't be replaced by...humans. Toby repressed a shudder and looked up as Sweeney added the last of the veggies and moved the pot to the fire. He added a bit of water and then stood back, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Unless, you want to try some," He said, his dark eyes locking with Toby's. Toby looked down to his feet, but then back up and nodded confidently. His heart stopped for a split second. The split second that Sweeney had a genuine smile on his face.

B.B. BREAKLINE...

Dinner went by smoothly, yet awkwardly. Sweeney would try to start up a conversation, but soon realize that Toby couldn't talk back, so he'd just look back to his bowl. Toby didn't really seem to notice as he about vacuumed up three bowls of the stuff in no time. After his last, he looked over to Sweeney who had just been staring at him. Toby felt a blush settle on his cheeks and he looked down at his bowl. The barber chuckled. "It's good, eh?"

After dinner, Sweeney cleaned up their dishes while Toby nervously fiddled with an idea in his head, debating whether or not to follow through with it. He wished he could have had a tot of gin to calm his nerves, but the bottle was mysteriously missing. He finally made up his mind, throwing all rational thought and past experiences out the window, and ran to grab a pad of paper, a pencil, and the chess board. When Sweeney turned from the sink, drying his hands on a towel, a note was shoved in his face. "Want to play?"

.littlebreak.

Studying the board, Toby hummed, his eyes flicking from white piece to black piece, his mind playing out different strategies, and thinking of all the possible endings. With a smirk, Toby moved his Queen, then sat back and crossed his arms. Anyone could tell that his face read "Check mate!"

"Bloody hell!" The barber scoffed and flicked his own king over. "How are you so bloody good at this?"

Toby shrugged and leaned forward to write "Praktiss" on his pad of paper. Sweeney sighed and rewrote the correct spelling underneath it for him. "What you need to practice is your spelling."

The two had their game set up on the living room couch, each on either end and the game-board in the middle. The fireplace was the only light in the room, and it gave off a bright and warm glow. The flames danced and casted shadows along the walls and the chess pieces, pulling them into their movement. Reds and yellows and oranges mixed and matched, and Toby found himself getting lost in them a couple of times. They had played a few games already, the first being the most awkward with no words and stiff movements. It was only after Toby won, and his face burst into an amazing grin, that Sweeney seemed to relax. After that, the talking and writing picked up. Sweeney was constantly fixing Toby's spelling mistakes, and in turn, teaching him new words. Toby couldn't remember a time when he ever had more fun.

"Sorry," Toby wrote before setting up the pieces for a new game.

"It's alright. Not your fault you never had any education," Sweeney waved his hand in a dismissive fashion, but Toby leered at him.

"I may not be smart, but I aint dumb!" He threw the pencil down and crossed his arms over his chest, looking away to the fire. Sweeney sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I never said you were- I didn't mean it like that. Look, you're winning more than I am. That takes brains," Toby sneaked a look over to the man. He looked legitimately sorry, and Toby just couldn't keep up his diva tantrum. He sighed dramatically then nodded at Sweeney, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He motioned for the barber to go first. Said barber smirked and made his move. About halfway through the game, Sweeney broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two with a sudden question. "Have you ever tried talking anytime over the years since the, uh, incident?"

Toby looked away from his pieces and blinked up at him. His face fell and he nodded solemnly. Oh, how he had tried to utter a word, any word. The first couple nights after the experience were filled with silent screams into his pillow and saying goodbye to all the songs he wouldn't be able to sing anymore. He'd stopped trying soon after that, accepting his cruel fate. "Maybe you just need to try harder. I'm pretty sure it's all in your head. There's really no other explanation nor any reason why you shouldn't be able to speak," Sweeney said. Toby felt a flare of anger rise in him. Try harder? Had he not tried hard enough already? Had he not been through enough already?

"Try harder? All in my head? It's YOUR fault I'm like this anyway!" Toby tried to yell at Sweeney, but like he knew it would, his mouth moved but no words came out. He turned away from the game and pulled his knees to his chest, glaring daggers at the fire in front of him. The room was still, except for the crackling fire. Time seemed to slow, seconds turning to hours, before anyone moved. Sweeney put the game-board on the floor and moved closer to Toby, lightly touching his shoulder. Toby shrugged him away and hid his face in his knees, willing himself not to cry. Sweeney sighed and fidgeted with the cuff on his sleeve.

"I'm... sorry," He whispered, almost too quietly for Toby to hear. Almost. Toby sniffed and looked over at the man who was staring into the fire. Shadows danced on his face, and for the first time Toby realized just how sad he really looked. He knew nothing of the man's past, but it surely wasn't all sunshine and daisies. What were the lyrics to that song he had sung to him? A barber and his wife...Could it be? "I'm sure you blame me for everything, but just know, I didn't mean for you to ever find out. Why you were even down there that night... I'm just... Sorry," He looked over at Toby, locking eyes with the boy's sympathy filled ones. He couldn't help but feel a tug somewhere at his core when he looked at the boy with the fire casting shadow puppets along his features. He reached a hand up, running his fingers softly along Toby's cheek, feeling the boy shudder beneath them.

Toby turned away, the flames and darkness masking the blush on his face, and reached for his paper and pencil now on the floor. He quickly scrawled down a message before giving it to Sweeney to read. "The song you sang to me. Is it true?" He searched Sweeney's face as the man stared at the question for a bit longer than he should have. Toby hadn't realized he was holding his breath until Sweeney put down the paper and looked at him. A rush of air filled his lungs as the other nodded.

"Yes, it's true, and yes, it's about me," Toby gently eased the paper from the other's hands.

"Can you explane it to me?" Toby hoped he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, but he really wanted to know. Sweeney sighed and set down the paper, turning more towards Toby.

"Fifteen years ago, I was Benjamin Barker. I had a beautiful wife and baby daughter, but that all changed when that filthy judge cast his greedy talons onto them," Sweeney began. He relayed his mournful tale of being captured and thrown into jail on a false charge, describing every minute in exact detail. He explained his hopes he had whilst rotting away in prison. Hopes of coming home to a wife and daughter, of living his life the way it was. Never had he ever dreamed of killing anyone, except for the judge. The man he used to be would be horrified at the thought of it, but now... his hands were stained with so much blood. His wife was gone, and his daughter still looked skeptical whenever she visited. He explained about arriving in London again, the same London it had always been. Greedy and evil, not even worth what a pig could spit. His only friends were his razors that Mrs. Lovett so graciously saved for him. He was now Sweeney Todd. He explained about Pirelli's blackmail, and how it was all Mrs. Lovett's idea to use his body for pies (Toby visibly paled here). The new Todd cared only for vengeance against the judge. The success of the pie shop underneath him concerned him not, and he more or less just practiced for the judge on all the people he killed. He felt nothing towards them. Only when the judge sat in his chair, did his blood boil. Finally, after so very very long, he had gotten his revenge. Finally, he could just live out the rest of his life in peace, knowing that his daughter is safe and that the judge couldn't hurt her anymore.

Toby had listened intently the entire time, soaking up every single word the man had uttered. He finally knew all about Sweeney's past. He finally knew exactly why he'd become a murderer. He finally understood. Everything. And he found himself forgiving Sweeney for all of it. He knew he shouldn't, he knew it was still a crime and it was wicked and horrible, but he did. He couldn't help it. Toby tentatively reached out and wrapped his arms around Sweeney's shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing hug. The man froze underneath him for a moment before he felt strong arms circling around his back and pulling him closer. All rational thought suddenly flew out the window. Both of their heartbeats sped up, and the each felt the same wonderful lurch in their chests. Sweeney pinpointed the feeling back to when he first saw Lucy for the first time, and slowly, he was beginning to realize what was happening here, but he didn't bloody well care in the least. He pulled the boy closer to him, burying his face into his neck. Toby let a smile fill his face. He couldn't place the feeling himself, but he knew he liked it. Maybe his thoughts from earlier weren't all that bad. How could they be when this felt so good?

The two broke moments later, Toby silently chuckling, and Sweeney smiling. He ran his fingers over Toby's cheek again, marveling in the softness. Toby blushed and dipped his head, causing Sweeney to chuckle. He glanced to the clock on the wall and said, "It's late. You should go to bed." Toby looked to the clock too, but then shook his head, stood, and walked to the book shelf that was nearby. He picked a brightly colored book and brought it back to Sweeney, scooting close to him and willing him to take it. He did and laughed at the cover. "You know this is a childrens book, right?" Toby nodded and put on a "So what?" face. Sweeney just shook his head and opened the book to the first page.

I was going to mention that they were reading Alice in Wonderland, but after doing some research (google ftw) i found out that Alice wouldn't have been written for another like 30yrs. XD This is in 1846, and Alice came out innn...1870 something. Faulty memory.
I'm trying to stay historically accurate here.

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