A/N I stayed up 'till three in the morning watching movies with a friend, and then I woke up with a sore throat and a headache. So, I almost didn't update. And then I sat down and wrote the longest chapter this story has known.. (so far). I hope you like it.
18
Quickly getting over the fact he was still alive, Sweeney began to think on how he was supposed to get out. Toby would have to open the trap doors again, but had he heard his shouts, was he close to doing it right then and there? Despite the fact he could very quickly be deposited on the bake house floor, Sweeney didn't move.
Even if he somehow made it down and managed to keep himself alive, how was Toby to come down? There definitely wasn't enough time to crawl down safely, not without someone up top able to open the doors again.
If they ever do, Sweeney thought darkly, glancing up.
Slowly easing himself back up, Sweeney hissed when his bleeding back immediately protested. He had almost forgotten about that…
There was a creak above him, and wasting no more time he slammed his raw back and booted feet into the chute walls to hold himself up. It seemed Toby had finally decided to check up on him. Or come down…
He had heard a crack when the door closed, but could think of nothing. Toby remained frozen, staring down at the floorboards.
A great deal of what sounded like thrashing and curses came up to his ears, causing him to tremble. Mr. Todd had been hit with the tap door, and was falling down his own chute. That, or he felt the need to add a commentary to his descent. The boy didn't think the barber would take it upon himself to curse that much, and for no apparent reason. Of course, that was only if he was alright. If he wasn't… well, where did that leave him?
Alone. Alone and in an unsafe place. With very few options.
Whatever sounds that had been reaching him immediately stopped.
Toby went pale. Was he alive? Was he dead?
Did he care…?
He shook his head, trying to clear the thought. What did it matter now if he cared whether or not Mr. Todd lived? However much he didn't like it, he was relying on the barber. For protection, as well as a means to find and rescue his mum. He couldn't le this feelings on the matter get in the way.
Shakily, he moved back towards the pedal by the chair and pressed down. Crawling back to the open trapdoor, he took a deep breath and peeked over the edge.
"Mr. Todd?" He called down.
"Don't come down." Was the first thing out of Sweeney's mouth. He didn't want the boy killing him, did he?
"Sir?" The boy's voice sounded hollow, and echoed against the brick walls.
"The second trap door closes too soon." He shouted, feeling his grip slip with every word.
All Toby could see was darkness, though he supposed the slightly darker blob at the bottom of the chute could have been the barber. He heard something about a second trap door, which he didn't like. He opened his mouth to reply, but the floorboards swung back into place. He hurriedly turned and slammed onto the pedal with his hand.
I'm going to die trying to tell him not to kill himself. Sweeney scowled at the thought. The trap door above him suddenly closed, and a moment later the one below him did too. He let out a sigh, and his body relaxed onto the steel door. A familiar sound reached his ears and he slammed his aching body back into the walls.
Unless he dropped himself down to the backhouse, this was going to get old, very soon.
"Mr. Todd?"
"There's a second trap door." Sweeney snarled, becoming increasingly irritated as the pain in his limbs intensified. "When you come down, you're going to have to fall."
"Wot?" Toby nearly screamed.
"I'll catch you!" The barber shouted back.
The trap door closed again.
Sweeney ground his teeth together in an effort to keep himself from screaming. "Slow down a bit towards the end." He snapped up to Toby when the door was reopened.
Toby did not fully believe what the barber was suggesting. Drop down the chute? He really had to be mad! The boy opened and shut his mouth several times before freezing at the sound of a thump. "Sir?"
"I've dropped down." The man's voice sounded even more distant.
The trap doors closed.
Even after lowering his legs down as far as he could without letting his arms collapse, Sweeney had felt quite a jar as his body had dropped. After taking a few breaths and looking around to confirm he was still alive, he stood up and looked back up the tunnel. He informed Toby that he was down, and then steel quickly blocked his view.
Toby pressed down on the pedal once more, wondering if he was imagining it, or if he trembled a bit more every time he did so. "Sir?" He called down.
"Jump down." Was all he heard.
Jump. He most certainly didn't want too. How was he supposed to slow himself down anyway? The gin he was supposed to be protecting clinked together as he shifted nervously. Jump down into the arms of a man you don't trust. How was he supposed to know he would get caught anyway?
He stared down at his shoes, biting his lip.
"Jump, damn it!" The trap door closed again, nearly cutting off the barber's words.
Taking a deep breath, Toby closed his hands into fists and hit them into the ground. He had to do this. His mum needed him!
Swallowing down his fear, he reached out his quivering hand to press the pedal, stood, and then stepped off into the mouth of the chute.
A/N I'm not quite sure it would be possible for Toby to actually live, regardless of being caught, or managing to slow himself down. But you know, the Judge gets stabbed multiple time and gets dropped on his head, and still lives. So, I think this little act can slide. If Sweeney even catches him.. -evil smirk-
