I am so sorry this took 4 years to update. If any of my original readers are still out there please accept my apologies and enjoy this chapter while I weep in shame~
Toby blinked his eyes open just a few minutes later, lifting himself from the couch cushion and looking around. A fire was just starting to spring to life in the fireplace in front of him. He rubbed at his head, mussing up his hair. He couldn't remember how he had gotten downstairs. The last thing he could picture was being upstairs with Mr. Todd, and they were looking out the window, and then they were falling into his chair, and then… Toby gasped and his hands flew to his throat. Was he remembering correctly, or had it all been a strange dream? There was only one way to find out. He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily a few times before steeling himself for heartbreak and opening his mouth. "Can I talk?" he croaked out, his vocal cords rusty from lack of use, but definitely working. Tears welled in his eyes as he cleared his throat and just began babbling to himself. "Oh my god, I can talk again. This is amazing. I sound hoarse as 'ell but I think it's getting better as I keep talking. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-" Toby's voice broke as a sob escaped his throat, huge tears fell down his face, and a grin stretched as far as it could across his face. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked forward on his seat. He could TALK again! His sobs turned into laughter, and he stood, practically jumping up and down, clenching his hands into fists and shaking them up and down in excitement. "I CAN TALK!"
"Great, now how will I get any peace and quiet?" Toby turned around to see Sweeney leaning against the doorframe between the living room and kitchen, arms crossed over his chest but a small smile playing on his lips. Toby's heart leapt at the sight of the man as fresh tears started to run down his face. Sweeney frowned and quickly made his way to the other, hesitating only slightly before taking the younger's face in his hands and wiping at his tears. "Hey, I was only joking," he mumbled. Toby laughed and tilted his head into Sweeney's grip, bringing his hands up to hold onto Sweeney's wrists so that the man wouldn't pull away. He looked up at him, grinning, and bounced on the balls of his feet.
"I can talk! I'm just so happy!"
"Strangely," Sweeney raised an eyebrow, chuckled, and rubbed his thumb across Toby's cheek. "So am I." Toby turned pink beneath his hands and his eyes darted downwards. Sweeney's hands fell as Toby leaned forward and threw his arms around the elder bringing him down into a tight hug.
"Thank you," Toby said. Sweeney frowned and pulled back from the hug.
"For what?"
"For helping me and believing that I would talk again." Sweeney scoffed and sneered at the ground, taking a step back from Toby and missing the fallen look on the boy's face.
"I was the one who made you lose your voice in the first place. I deserve no thanks. You should be rightfully furious with me if anything." He sighed. Toby tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He reached out for Sweeney again, placing one hand on the other's upper arm. Sweeney looked back up, his facial expression matching Toby's.
"It's… not your fault," Toby spoke steadily. Sweeney flinched like he'd been hit, his eyes going wide. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before placing his hands on Toby's shoulders and giving him a small shake.
"What… are you talking about?" He raised a brow at the younger. Toby bit his bottom lip as he looked up at Sweeney, confirming in his head an idea that had been planted there long ago. He took a deep breath and straightened himself up.
"It was not your fault. It was Mrs. Lovett's," he spoke steadily and sincerely. Sweeney's eyes widened a hair, and he opened his mouth to say something contradictory but Toby put his hand up to silence him. "Believe me, I've had a lot of time to think about it, and while I always had suspected it in the back of my mind, I just didn't want to believe it. I wanted to blame you, I suppose." He gave the older an apologetic look. His next words shook as long ignored memories began to resurface. "You were the blood soaked demon that haunted my dreams, while Mrs. Lovett was a warm shoulder to cry upon. She took care of me, and loved me, and protected me, but she…" His newly found voice stuck in his throat and he sighed, closing his eyes. Sweeney squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. When Toby reopened his eyes he looked up at Sweeney who gave him a small smile, encouraging him to continue. Toby cleared his throat.
"She had been the one that let me, well, practically pushed me down the stairs of the bake-house. She tricked me into thinking she trusted me and wanted me to help her! She said nothing would harm me, and that she loved me, and I believed her because I ain't never had a mother before, and I was just so happy to have found one!" Toby began shaking as tears sprung to his eyes again. "But then she led me down to that evil place of death and… I couldn't escape because she locked the door behind her!" Sweeney flinched as the other suddenly raised his voice and thick sobs sprang from his throat. He knew that Mrs. Lovett had lured the boy to the basement, but he had no idea what lengths she had gone through to get and keep him there. The poor boy should have ran away while he had the chance over the years, and yet he stayed, practically clinging to the woman who deceived him. Though, he supposed, if one had to choose to trust either the one who killed or the one who baked he supposed the latter was the best choice in the matter.
Sweeney pulled Toby closer to him, wrapping his arms around the younger's waist, but Toby put his hands up against Sweeney's chest and shook his head. As much as he loved the feeling of being close to the barber, he had to tell Sweeney the rest, and it was now or never. He took a few deep breathes and swallowed, trying to get his voice under control.
Gripping Sweeney's shirt, he told him, "The thing that really has stayed in the back in my head all these years is that when you two came down and found me, she said…" He sniffed and let out a harsh scoff. "She said, 'I've changed my mind. You can't kill him.'" Sweeney nodded as Toby looked up at him, the expression on his face begging to know if the words he had heard so long ago were true. Sweeney remembered her saying that. Not very smart on her part, he had thought at the time.
Toby's fists tightened in Sweeney's shirt before he suddenly let go and pushed away from the man, a glare set into his face, and he began pacing in the small space between him and the couch. "SHE changed her mind! It was her idea!" He gestured wildly with his hands for emphasis and pulled at his hair in frustration, like the notion of the idea was insane when really it was quite tame compared to some of her other ones. "Just like it was her idea to bake people into pies!" Toby stopped pacing, turned suddenly, and kicked the couch, causing it to scrape across the floor a couple of inches.
Sweeney flinched at the sound of wood against wood and mentally reminded himself not to piss off the boy. He watched as Toby visibly deflated, shoulders falling like his hands were made of stones, panting softly and still glaring at the couch. He moved closer, resting a hand on Toby's shoulder softly. When Toby didn't push him away, he slid this hand across Toby's back to the other shoulder and pulled the younger closer to him until Toby's shoulder bumped his chest and his head tilted sideways to fall upon his shoulder. Toby was the perfect height to lay his head on Sweeney's shoulder, a fact that made Sweeney giddy inside. Toby sighed and Sweeney shivered from the feeling of his warm breath hitting his neck. He reached up to card his fingers through Toby's short hair.
"I'm so sorry that you were put through so much," Sweeney said softly. "That woman is quite the wolf in sheep's clothing." Toby scoffed.
"Demons can charm you with a smile, but only for a while before you see who they really are." Sweeney nodded at Toby's words.
"To tell the truth, I had always suspected that she may have had something to do with Lucy's death," Sweeney admitted. His heart twanged at the thought of his beloved wife, but his blood boiled at the thought of her being murdered. "Whether she supplied her with the poison or forced it down her throat, I know Lovett was involved."
Toby pulled back from Sweeney's arms to look at his face and titled his head to the side slightly. "Lucy?" He asked. Sweeney's eyes glazed over for a split second as he looked towards the fireplace mantle where he had placed her picture. Toby glanced at it before connecting the pieces. "Oh," he started. "Your… wife." In his head, Toby had sneered at the title, but it came out of his mouth sounding soft and understanding. A small flame of a feeling, nary but an ember, lit up in the back of his mind at the thought of Lucy, but Toby tried to shake it off. It would do no good to be jealous of the dead.
Instead he reached out and took Sweeney's shirt lapels into his hands and tugged gently, bringing Sweeney back to the present and focusing on him. "That witch has harmed us both," He stated, matter of factly. "And I don't think I could live with myself if she ever harmed you again." He felt his face heating up, but he couldn't stop himself from expressing the feelings that the elder had caused to bloom inside him. He was sick of feeling on the inside and not doing anything on the outside. His heart sped up and he said, "I know it's only been a few days now, but I feel like we really got to know each other and I… I've come to care about you, and I think I might f-fancy you, and I just need you to know that I will always be true to you, and if anyone else tries to hurt you I'll send them howling. I've got ways!" The last part rushed out of him and left him staring at his own hands, face completely red. Sweeney felt his own face start to heat up at the declaration from the other, and only helped him realize that yes, he felt the same. The butterflies in his chest started their fluttering again, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he did something about it.
"Toby, I-," Toby tugged on his shirt again, and he allowed himself to be pulled over and then pushed onto the couch softly. Toby now stood in front of him, affectively making himself seem taller than Sweeney since he was seated. Toby smiled down at him and walked closer, forcing Sweeney to move his knees apart lest Toby would run into him. Once they were almost close enough to be touching, Sweeney reached out and rested his hands on Toby's hips, looking straight up at the other's face as soft words poured from his lips.
"No one's gonna hurt you. No one's gonna dare. Others can desert you, not to worry, whistle, I'll be there!" Toby sang, carding his fingers through the white stripe that ran through the elder's hair. Sweeney smiled and rested his chin against Toby's sternum, feeling it vibrate softly when he sang. Though his voice was still not up to par with what it had been, Sweeney thought it was still beautiful, and could picture himself falling asleep to it easily. "Being close and being clever ain't like being true. I don't need to, I would never, hide a thing from you… Like some..." They both glanced over at the door that led the way into Mrs. Lovett's bedroom before Toby cupped Sweeney's face in his hands and leaned down, barely touching their noses together. Sweeney's breath hitched for a split second before he smirked and reached up to cup the back of Toby's neck with one hand. "Nothing's gonna harm you. Not while I'm around, Mr. Todd," Toby practically breathed the words into the other's mouth.
"You can call me Sweeney," Sweeney said, and as soon as his name left Toby's lips he pulled him down and captured them in his own.