A/N Bit late, but it is now the longest I've written.. though I'm going to have to apologize a bit, the fire has been put off until the next chapter. I 'introduce' Mayhew though! (oh, you have no idea how much fun I'm going to have developing his character) On another note, in relation to reviews you kind people have given me, I hope to think I didn't come off as a bit of a snot. You people actually read this story- I appreciate that. Meaning I'll be taking into account that strange 'review reply' button that exists... Enjoy-
23
Every nerve, perception and instinct inside of him was screaming at him to run. But shock or flat out denial at what he was seeing kept Toby where he was. He was afraid of moving least he capture the murderous and wicked looking barber's attention. Whoever this judge was, terrible things were sure to happen to him. The boy could only briefly wonder what could have caused this emotion from Mr. Todd when he finally managed to gasp.
A pair of oddly looking demonic eyes snapped to him.
"M-Mr. Todd s-sir.." He raised a shaky hand to point at the barber's face.
Suddenly looking every inch a normal man (if Mr. Todd was ever really normal to begin with) he reached up to his own face with a slight look of curiosity. His fingers came in contact with a bit of blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.
Cursing, he began to pull of his rather tattered shirt.
Toby was still frozen, completely unsure of how to react to this new situation. The boy bit his lip to stifle another gasp, holding the cloth closer to his face.
A large grotesque looking bruise had formed all along Mr. Todd's left side, and hardly noticeable in the dim light, was blood smeared across his shoulders and back from several seeping wounds.
Mr. Todd looked mildly irritated.
"I knew she was familiar, but this is.. unacceptable." Turpin growled.
The man who he was talking to only nodded his head.
"Could you.." he started to pace. "make it soluble.. Lace a drink with it? I need to get her away from Johanna."
"I could.. try."
"You'd damned well better, Mayhew! Who knows what filth she's spewing at her?"
"What if you were to simply.. let me take her away? Or why don't you just take her away from Johanna?"
"She's finicky enough as it is. If I start taking away what I let her have I'll have more trouble, and why would I want that when it can be avoided?"
Mayhew nodded his head, running a hand through his hair and looking slightly sick.
"Well?" Turpin snapped.
The apothecary leapt up from his chair.
"Sir, ya should-" A lot growl informed Toby to stop talking, which he promptly complied too.
Sweeney pulled the filthy shirt back over his head, deciding he wanted something over nothing. "Gather what's left of the gin."
The boy hurriedly did as asked, moving to where he had set down the bottles. "Should I-"
"How much is left?"
Feeling too afraid to complain about being cut-off, Toby squinted at the bottles to try and see how much was in them. "Ones full.. 'nother has a leak.." he hadn't noticed that before, he looked nervously at the barber to see if he somehow disapproved. "An' the others full."
"Good."
Toby stayed silent, watching Mr. Todd walk across the bake house.
"Coming?"
The boy jumped before scurrying over to the door. He had never seen so much blood in his life, not to mention minced corpses. He had never felt so confused, desperate and disgusted in his entire life. As a result his mind was becoming a rather difficult thing to hold onto. Especially when his company was a man who appeared to be experiencing none of those emotions, despite the given situation.
The high pitched squeal from the protesting hinges of the bake house door nearly made him drop the gin.
"Mrs. Lovett, please."
"I've told ya enough."
"I have a right to know!"
"Being forceful isn't going to help ya any dearie."
"Please."
Nor will begiin', the baker thought with irritation. Couldn't the girl just go back to sewing and daydreaming? Now she was beginning to understand why Mr. T liked silence. She wasn't this annoying, surely?
"…please?" Johanna's pretty blue eyes were playing for all they had, trying to sway Mrs. Lovett.
"No."
"Ya want to wot?!" Toby squeaked, eyes round with surprise and glued to Mr. Todd.
The barber was hardly paying attention to the boy, though. After being reminded of the judge, and coming to the conclusion he had Mrs. Lovett (though more out of biased feeling than fact), a thought had crawled into Sweeney's mind and refused to leave.
People were ambling around the streets devouring one another. Who cared what happened?
Who cared if a judge was brutally murdered in his own home?
Sweeney could feel his pulse quicken at the thought of a no strings attached kill. At least, a relatively no-strings-attached kill. No doubt someone would eventually care to look into it.
But until then… and especially before!
Besides, after he killed the judge he intended to be long gone before any one found out.
"Sir!" Toby squeaked again, having received no response before. "'Ow can ya think ta-"
"They don't like fire." He growled through gritted teeth, annoyed at being spoke to when he wanted to think. "It's a useful distraction."
"But we could-"
Sweeney spun and grabbed the front of Toby's shirt. "I'm burning the shop down whether or not you're outside with me."
The boy nodded his head.
"Well?"
Turpin was most certainly not apatientman. Mayhew gritted his teeth to keep himself from snapping. "I'm working." Came out in a surprisingly calm tone. He was anything but at the moment.
"And?"
Did he have to loom?
"I'm working." He repeated, some of his irritation leaking out.
The judge narrowed his eyes at Mayhew's back before stomping out of the room.
Ungrateful brat, James thought, rolling his shoulders to ease their tension. They suddenly drooped and he set down the instruments he had been holding.
Why did she have to get sent for?
She was supposed to be safe in her shop. Well, Eleanor would actually be safe anywhere, but that was beside the point.
James pressed his fingers to his temple, ignoring the graying hair that fell in front of his eyes. They could've been far away…
Toby knew better than to protest against Mr. Todd's actions twice, but as the pile of things grew at the center of the room, he felt like screaming.
All creatures had vacated the shop and home, having ambled out onto the people infested streets. Quite a few were still actually on the stairs, pushing themselves against the barber shop door.
Stupid blighters, Toby thought angrily. He had to start scrubbing at tears when Mr. Todd started throwing books onto the pile of furniture.
Looking satisfied, the barber began to poor the gin over the pile of textiles, literature and scraped wood.
Toby thought about tackling Mr. Todd, demanding another way out. Another escape root. The man seemed set on burning everything down though, and as he lit a match Toby felt all rebellious thoughts vanish.
Fire from the match reflected in the barber's eyes, eerily showing the same psychotic look he had had in the bake house.
No one could have made him touch Mr. Todd at that moment.
