Splintered Dreams Chapter 7

By: Sweeneytodgirl58

Thanx soo much for the reviews!!

NelliethePieAngel - I'm sorry for the confusion. I just think that 'he fell asleep', sounds kinda dull. I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you bear with me and continue to read.

AnneLynn - I'm glad you enjoy my story.

I do not own anything. If I did, I would have made sure I was in the movie!!

The flames were everywhere; devouring her molten carcass. There was nothing else but the un-ending pain of being burned alive. Nothing but the pain registered into her poor, unfoccused mind. Why wouldn't the agony end? As she continued to writhe in her excruciate torture, she could see eyes as black as ink glaring back at her. They were filled with nothing but hatred. An unimaginable abhorrance that caused her more agony.

She gave out a blood curling scream.

Eleanor jolted up awake; her face was drenched in cold sweat. She raised a hand to her heart, (which was pounding at an unimaginable rate) as she tried to control her breathing. Her bedsheets were entangled around her, and she struggled to extricate herself from their unholy grasp. After her small conflict with the blankets, Mrs. Lovett reminisced on the eerie hallucination. The dream had been soo real. She could still sense the fiery blaze surround her. Pain prickling at every nerve of her being. She trembled as she recalled the scorching fire, and the raven-black eyes that had glared at her.

She didn't know as to why she felt atrocious as she remembered the look of revulsion that the eyes had given her. Eleanor turned her gaze to the unconcealed window, and became aware that it was still dark outside. Mrs. Lovett bit her lip anxiously. She didn't wish to go back to sleep, for fear she would have to re-live the nightmare again.

But, then what could she do? Her leg was still far from being healed, and it was too opaque to read. Eleanor sighed and decided on counting stars. Her eyes darted back to the clear glass and she speculated each and every trifling spark of light that illuminated the pitch-black sky of London. The sight of the glittering heavens calmed her, and she couldn't help but remember the old days. When her Albert was still alive. She couldn't say she had loved him, for she would be lying to herself if she did, but she had appreciated his presence. He was always kind to her, and was always softhearted and affectionate. She had cared enough for him to mourn over his passing.

But she often wondered what it would have been like if her late husband had not passed. Would she had fallen inlove with him?

Eleanor afflicted her head as she thought of this. Her heart had already been claimed. First by a shy, and naive man named Bejamin Barker, who had settled in their estate with his wife and child. Now, by a silent, broken man referred to as Sweeney Todd. Whom she would do anything for. Mrs. Lovett thought it facetious, that she had fallen for these two very different men. But no matter what her thoughts were, she knew she couldn't alter her feelings.

For love was something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essense.

As always, Sweeney awoke at the break of day. He continued with his accustumed routines that he consisted on every morning, which included making his landlady's breakfast. As he entered Eleanor's room, with the usual tray of food in-hand, he found Mrs. Lovett sitting up. She was glancing out the window with a deliberate look upon her lovely, lurid face. Sweeney raised a fine, dark eyebrow, and made his way to her side. As he placed the tray down, he noticed that Mrs. Lovett had still not acknowledged his presence. Mr. Todd cleared his throat rather loudly, and Eleanor blinked awake. She turned her gaze at him, and smiled.

"Mornin', Love. Didn't notice ya' came in."

Mr. Todd rolled his onyx eyes at her and muttered, "Really, I hadn't noticed."

Eleanor frowned at his sarcastic tone. As she was about to start her early meal, she became aware that throughout the whole night, she had stayed up recollecting on her past. For a brief moment, she wondered as to why she had refused to doze, but as I said before, that was only for a moment. Because as she recaptured her actions, fragments of her abhorrent hallucination returned. Her eyes widened as she recalled the nightmare; remembering the conflagration on her embodiment. Sweeney, of course, did not miss the look of terror that crossed the baker's features. He captured one of Mrs. Lovett's pallid hands, and asked in a concerned voice, "Mrs. Lovett, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Eleanor answer me!" As she felt the grasp of the barber, Eleanor was brought back to reality. She blinked away her torment, and met the obsidian eyes of the man that she loved.

She fixtated a smile and said, "Nothing's wrong, dear."

Mr. Todd gave her a stern look. Did she really think he was stupid enough to believe that nothing had just happened? "I do not take being lied to soo easily, Mrs. Lovett.", Sweeney declared in a strained voice.

As those words left his mouth, Eleanor turned her eyes to the wooden floor. She couldn't bear to continue to look at him. Just the thought of him finding out about his Lucy made his statement menacing. Mr. Todd narrowed his eyes as he noticed his landlady's range of view shift to a different direction. "Eleanor.", he said.

Mrs. Lovett sighed, and gazed up at him. Her chocolate eyes meeting his obscure ones.

"Please, Mista' T. I don't wont to remember.", she said in a small whisper.

Sweeney composed his posture and said, "I'll forget it for now, my pet." His tone of voice had softened. Eleanor gave him a small smile, but the gesture did not reach her mahagony eyes. Sweeney could see that she was still being plagued by something. But by what? After a few seconds spent in silence, Sweeney realized he was still holding Eleanor's hand. He released her hand and felt strangely empty as he did so. He surpressed the feeling, and walked toward the chestnut door.

"I'll leave you so you can eat and rest in peace.", he said without glancing at her.

As he left, Eleanor reached for her bowl of gruel. She ate in silence, trying hard not to think. Of course it was difficult, for she had nothing to distract her. When she was done with her breakfast, she reached for her book and read for most of the day. Toby had also entered to keep her company, but he had to leave to help Mr. Todd with his customers. Apperantly, since he could not run the pie bussiness by himself, he had converted to Mr. Todd's apprentice. He said he enjoyed it, even though Sweeney hardly ever spoke.

When Mr. Todd had entered to bring her lunch, he had remained silent. Only asking her if she was in any kind of pain. As usual, she said no. But, as soon as the word left her lips, he had already walked out the door. Nonetheless, she continued to read. As night arrived, Eleanor ate her dinner that Sweeney brought her. She bit her lower lip, wondering what she would do to stay awake. As she thought this, Mrs. Lovett laughed to herself. She was being ridiculous. The only thing that she would do that night, was catch some shut eye. She needed it dearly, for she was tired of her previous restless night. It was only a dream, and she was(As Mr. Todd had mentioned before) over-exaggerating. What were the chances of her dream re-occuring? Eleanor Lovett refused to cower over a relentless hallucination. After she was finished with her meal, she laid back and closed her eyes.

That night, the abhorrent dream returned.

For many days the dream plagued her. Night after night, she re-lived the torment of the ignis fatuus. The continual tortue had provoked her to give up sleeping. Unfortunetely, her choice of depriving sleep did not go unpunished. The rings under her eyes had darkened immensely, and her emotional responses had flattened.

Sweeney, being the man that he was, did not notice the drastic changes. For his thirst for avengment had increased. Yes, he had finally accepted that his Lucy was gone, but his craving for the blood of both the beadle and the judge had elevated. Before, he could take out his disquietude on his unfortunate clients, but ever since Mrs. Lovett's accident, his quench for revenge had subsided. Eleanor had been strangely quiet and had not requested anything on her part. Since he had no distraction, his passion had flared. But even so, he continued to hold in his anxiety. He continued to wait.

Mr. Todd was in his shop one cloudy morning; shaving a man that resembled the vile Judge Turpin. Or was it his restlessness that caused the man to look like the man that he abominated? As he was preparing to lather the man, a child entered his shop. Seeing it was only Toby returning from his chat with Eleanor, Sweeney went back to frothing.

While Mr. Todd reached for 'his friend', he wondered if killing his customer would help ease his nerves. He eradicated that thought by shaking his head. He would hate to ruin his bussiness, and tramatizing the young child that was in the room. He could only imagine the look on the young boy's face if he were to slit the man's throat before him. With a gentle, catious stroke, Sweeney cropped the hairs on the man's face. He was so focussed on his work, that he did not notice Toby making his way beside him.

"Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney bounded up out of surprise and almost nicked his client. Luckily, he was able to keep the razor away from the customer's throat. Sweeney glowered at the young child, then went back to his work. Toby frowned, but decided on mustering up all of his courage and trying again.

"Mr. Todd?". he asked in a low-pitched voice.

"What?", Sweeney answered warily. His voice sounded irritated.

" 'Aven't ya' noticed anything diff'erent bout' mum lately?", Toby said.

sheared the man's last patch of hair and said, "Hand me the towel.", in a bored tone of voice.

Toby grasped the rag that was laying on the dresser and handed it to the barber reluctantly. Sweeney took hold onto the small piece of cloth, and wiped the remaining spume. The man arose from the barber's recliner and handed him his pay. He mumbled a, "Thank you.", but left without another word. As Sweeney wiped his razor with care, Toby continued with his earlier question.

" Well, sir?"

"Well what?"

" 'Aven't ya' noticed anything diff'erent bout mum!?"

Sweeney raised his eyebrow. The only thing that he had noticed was that Eleanor was not being her normal, loud self. In Sweeney's perspective, that was not necessarily a bad thing. He had finally gotten to get the quiet that he had longed for ever since he arrived to London. While he continued to clean his razor he said, "Not really, no."

Toby's eyes widened. How could Mr. Todd not see the shape his mum was in? He was sure that he was not imagining her empty gaze, or her shallow breathing. Something was different with his mum, and he was positive that that was not a good thing.

" Ya' 'avent noticed her sunken eyes, Mr. T?", Toby asked after a moment of silence. It was not awkward as it used to be, for Toby had already gotten used to his master's silent ways. For a moment, Mr. Todd stopped stroking the blade that he was holding and glanced up at the boy. "What do you mean sunken eyes?", he requisitioned. Toby frowned as he retained the way his mum had looked like when he had visited her. She had growned paler over the days, and her dark eyes only made her look more like a cadaver. He hated seeing her in such a state.

"She 'as really dark circles under her eyes, and 'alf the time I'm speaking to 'er, she 'as a dead look on her face. She doesn't even eat! I'm worried bout 'er Mr. Todd.", Toby spoke in a hoarse voice. Tears had started forming on his eyes. "I don't know wot's wrong with 'er, she won't tell me.", he finished. A tear had managed to escape from his watery eyes. Sweeney grimaced. He hadn't noticed anything about Eleanor. How could he be soo ignorant? Mr. Todd walked over to Toby and ineptly placed a hand on the young child's shoulder. Obviously, Sweeney wasn't experienced with dealing with crying children.

"Don't worry, son. I'll speak with Mrs. Lovett.", he muttered awkwardly. Toby wiped a second tear, and glanced up at his preceptor. The young boy gave Sweeney a small smile. Atleast now he knew that he wasn't the only one who cared about his mum.

That night, Sweeney prepared Mrs. Lovett's dinner. Toby was the one whom had taken Eleanor's lunch, for Sweeney was too busy to do it himself. His shop had overfilled with hairy men demanding a shave, and he had no choice but to grant them their wish. As Sweeney poured Mrs. Lovett's tea into a cup, he remembered onto what Toby had said. He had described Eleanor as a living corpse. Sweeney could not picture his landlady as such, so to tell the truth he was nervous as to how Eleanor would look like. He still could not believe that he had not noticed Mrs. Lovett's critical state.

How many times had he entered her room to bring her breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Mr. Todd placed the tea on the argent, lustrous tray and made his way to Eleanor's room. Once he had entered, he felt like slicing his own throat. For there before him, laid his landlady in a dreadful state. Her once charming pale skin, now a poor, deathlike hue. Her eyes held large purple rings below them, and her cheeks seemed as if they were being compressed to the back of her skull. Eleanor's glance held no empathy, only an abstract, dull look. How had he missed this? Mr. Todd felt his heart churn at the sight of his householder. As he closed the door behind him, he noticed Eleanor had not turned her eyes at him. Sweeney deliberately sat the salver down, and stood infront of Eleanor. Mrs. Lovett slowly met his gaze, and seemed to return to her acumen. Even in her poor state, she smiled at him.

" 'Ello', love.", she said weakly. At the sound of her frail tone, Sweeney felt the urge to punch himself in the face.

Sweeney took a seat at the edge of Eleanor's bed. He looked straight into her umber eyes, and noticed there was not a single glint of alleviation. Mr. Todd couldn't help but loathe himself all the more.

"How are you feeling?", he asked in a choked voice.

Eleanor glanced out the window. "Never betta'", she answered quietly. Sweeney perceived Eleanor was not beggining her meal.

"Are you not hungry?", he questioned.

"Not right now, dear."

"I brought you your tea incase you were in any pain.", Sweeney declared, as he eyed her ghastly thin arms. How long had she gone without eating?

Mrs. Lovett stared at the moon. She didn't want to consume her tea, for the pain was the only thing that helped her stay awake at night. If she took the medicine, she was sure she was going to fall asleep. She did not want to extract the nightmare anymore. It was more than enough that she was plagued by the fearful dream at daylight when she wasn't inactive. To be bedeviled in the hallucination at night was not something she wanted.

"Thanks, love. But I'm not in pain.", her eyes were still observing outside.

Sweeney Todd narrowed his eyes. He noticed that anytime Eleanor would lie to him, she would look away.

"Eleanor, look me in the eye, and tell me that you are not in pain.", Sweeney said, not taking his eyes off of his householder. Eleanor fidgeted as she felt his gaze upon her. How did he do that? Mrs. Lovett tore her eyes away from the clear glass and looked at Mr. Todd. She stared intently at his dark eyes and said, "I..I...", she turned her gaze to the floor instantly. She could not complete the task.

Silence overlapsed the room. Mr. Todd spoke in a calm voice as he said, "Why are you lying to me, pet? Why do you continue to deny that you are suffering?"

Eleanor's eyes blurred. She looked up at the ceiling to contain the tears that were threatening to fall. Did he not understand? Did he not understand that she did not want to be more of a nuisance to him than she already was?

"Tell me.", was all that Sweeney said.

"I don't wont' to continue to pester you, Mr. Todd. I don't wont' to bother ya' more. Ya' already do alot for me."

Mr. Todd remained silent for a moment. The seconds that passed seemed like hours. Mr. Todd finally spoke. "You are not irritant, Eleanor. Please, tell me what is bothering you."

Mrs. Lovett gave out a defeated sigh and nodded. She glanced at his enticing, caliginous eyes. "I keep on 'avin this nightmare.", she said. Sweeney remained silent; waiting for her to continue.

"I'm being burned alive. The only thing that I feel is the pain. I feel the flames igniting my body, Mr. T." The tears that she fought to keep in, finally escaped; they ran down her sickenly pale cheek.

"Even when I wake up, I can still remember the agony.", Eleanor lamented. She couldn't help it. The memory was too clear. "Then," she continued, "I see these eyes. They look at me with this undiscribable hatred." Eleanor looked at Sweeney. "They're revolted to see me, Mr. Todd. They think I'm revolting." She slumped her shoulders and whispered, "And I don't know why the thought of that 'urts."

Mr. Todd debated on what to do. As he was going to pat her shoulder, Eleanor sprang into his grasp. She bawled into his chest. Mr. Todd stared wide-eyed at the wall. His back was strained, but Mrs. Lovett hadn't seemed to notice, for she continued to weep into his shirt. As he heard her heart-wrenching sobs, Sweeney relaxed his stature. He laced his arms around her fragile form and firmly held her.

Even when he had been Bejamin Barker, he had never witnessed Mrs. Lovett in such a state. She was a strong woman, and she always knew how to keep her actions intact. Seeing her right now, reminded him that even the strongest enervate.

"Hush now, Nellie. It's alright. Nothing is going to harm you, pet. Not while I'm around.", he whispered in her ear. Eleanor seemed to soothe at his words. continued to calm her, until her sobs transformed into quiet whimpers.

"Please, Mista' T. Make the dream go away.", she breathed into his chest. Sweeney rested his head ontop of the baker's. "I promise, Nellie. I promise I will make the dream go away.", he spoke in a soft, calming voice. Eleanor nodded, and relaxed her grip. Mr. Todd instantly knew she had fallen asleep. He re-arranged her in bed, and placed a blanket over her form. He then laid down beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. He held her close against his body, and then placed single kiss on the baker's forehead. "I promise I will make the dream go away, Eleanor.", was the last thing he whispered into her ear, as he felt sleep overcome him.

That night, they both had a good, night's rest. No nightmare's tormenting them as they slept.

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