Ferociously, I growled. I did not care I was still in the middle of St Dunstan's Market. The crowds had started to thin finally, yet I can not imagine what I hoped for. It was almost as if I waited for her to come back, running into my arms, laughing cheerfully, as if it had all been a joke.

I could almost see it. Johanna's hair flew behind her as she ran back to me, still uneasy, waiting for my rage. The thing was, I could not be angry. She had come back, and that was all I could hope for.

I waited for this to happen.

It did not happen.

As soon as I realised this, I ran for the police. In my earnest, I did not realise that the man behind the desk was the son of the man who had taken me away from the market place. From Lucy. I was in too much of a hurry to think about it clearly. Even after I had given the details, and finally been persuaded that it was impossible to find Johanna the moment I requested it, I could not think too much about it.

Instead, I could only think of the last time I had lost a dear one through the crowds.

The thought ran through me painfully. In actual fact, it did hurt. A feeling of burning ripped through my stomach. As I stumbled through Fleet Street, I paused, clutching my stomach as I stumbled into a wall. A groan rumbled in my throat, choking me. I staggered further along the road, the roof of my barber shop coming into view. I sighed, the pain worsening because of it.

A figure leant out of the pie shop door.

"Mr T?"

I groaned again, more out of annoyance than the pain I was in.

"Mr T! What on earth 'appened to yeh?"

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"Where's Johanna, then?"

I gasped out loud, the pain ripping through my chest.

"The police are looking for her."

"Oh, Mr T," she said lowly, almost as if I needed to be soothed by her. I did not need to be soothed by her. All I needed was my daughter at my side. Safe, warm and calming. Mrs Lovett's arms wrapped around me, heaving me to my feet to the best of her ability.

"Come on, love, yeh can't expect me to carry yeh about like a baby."

"Then get off me," I growled, shaking her off. She stopped pulling on my, but kept a grip on me.

"Mr T, get a move on, then."

"Leave me be," I snarled, pushing her arms away from me. Her eyes were wide and concerned, but I needn't have wished for it.

As I just said, I didn't need it.

I stumbled as far up the steps as I could to the barber shop, knowing that I was being followed closely.

"I told you to leave me be, Mrs Lovett."

"Look at yeh, Mr T. Stumbling up the stairs like that- it's no wonder I'm concerned."

"I don't need your concern."

"Yeh sure as 'ell could use it."

"No, I-"

"Don't argue with me," she said firmly, pulling at me again. "Yeh're tumbling as it is."

I groaned, but nonetheless allowed her at this point to take me. I was too faint to argue.

"Just sit on the bed there, love. There yeh go, all relaxed now, ain't we?"

"I'm not child, Mrs Lovett. Now leave me be."

"Not until I've seen you get some sleep. Yeh've worn yehself out with worry I'd wager."

She wasn't wrong, but at the same time she had not fully understood me. Yes, I was tired. Yes, I had been worrying since the second I had turned my eyes from my daughter. The daughter I had worked so hard to possess.

No. I didn't need some sleep.

I didn't sleep.

I did, however, fall unconscious at most inconvenient times.

The room had already started to spin, and Mrs Lovett's words became more hushed with the seconds going by. Soon enough, they were gone completely, and instead there was only a deep blackness.

A blackness I knew I could not return from.

I was not falling, nor was I able to stand with my own will. Instead, I could only think.

All I could think of was my murderous rage.

In my unconsciousness, my hand shot out by it's own whim. A loud gasp echoing through the room brought me to my senses.

"Mr T!" My eyes shot open, and my hand almost tightened in grip. I looked about the room, and then at my arm. My hand was wrapped around her throat in a most fierce fashion.

"What happened?" I asked, my hand still not moving away.

"Yeh were dreaming, love," she rasped. She tried to move away my arm, but I barely noticed. It was purely her luck that my hand slipped away listlessly.

"How long?"

"Only about through the night, love."

At this, I wished to growl with anger. I could not have let such time slip me by. But I did not show my anger, and instead looked bleakly ahead of me. Mrs Lovett tenderly smoothed out my hair.

"Don't worry, love. She'll be back before yeh know it."

"How'd you know that?"

"Yeh never thought you'd meet 'er again last time, did yeh?" she said, smiling slightly. "Course we're gonna get 'er back."

"You don't know that," I murmured. "It was pure chance that I got her last time."

"Yeh shouldn't think that way, Mr T."

"It's true." My anger boiled slightly in my chest, but it was weak enough to ignore.

"Like I said, we'll 'ave 'er back soon enough. Trust me." Mrs Lovett turned to the door. As she walked I stared after her.

"Mrs Lovett?"

"Yes, love?" She looked at me earnestly. I still stared at her, but my tone did not seem to deter her smile.

"I'll have her back."

Sorry that the chapter's so short, but I just wanted to make it clear that Sweeney was ill before I do as long a chapter as I possibly could on Johanna and Anthony's situation as possible. Don't worry, all of your fans! She won't be with him forever…