41

Johanna only gave herself a moment to feel guilty as she gave Toby another reassuring pat and dashed down the hall. Anthony had come, and she wanted to know how. Ever since the men had turned she had feared he had as well, or was eaten. Now that her savior appeared to her alive and well she wanted to know how. She also wanted to know what had happened to Mrs. Lovett.

If the monsters had gotten her… Well, Johanna wasn't quite sure what that meant if they did. She never had the stomach to ask Mayhew fully about his compound, and the judge had never liked her asking questions.

She caught him as he stepped out of Mayhew's lab, looking slightly dazed. He didn't seem to notice her, or know where he was going. When his confused eyes finally found her, his face lit up.

"Johanna!"

A smile bloomed on her face despite the circumstances and she forgot about her questions for a moment. "Anthony, I-"

"Where's the kitchen?" He asked rather sheepishly, seeming to ignore her words.

Her mouth hung open and confusion washed her features for a moment. "Oh… it's this way."

"He-he asked me to get water for Mrs. Lovett." Anthony quickly stuttered in apology. "He wants needle and thread as well."

Mayhew's snappish nature around the injured Mrs. Lovett had obviously struck a cord with the sailor. Johanna smiled reassuringly, "quickly then?" Just because she could, she grasped his hand and pulled him in the right direction.


Toby felt incredibly conflicted. He wanted to stay and watch over the judge and beadle, but knowing his mum was wounded and not knowing how she was being treated made him want to run after her. Johanna had rather hurriedly took off, but Toby was quite aware of the look she had given the sailor. It reminded him of the way Mrs. Lovett looked after Sweeney, so he immediately knew she was heading after Anthony.

Mrs. Lovett… tears began to well in his eyes and Toby was suddenly compelled to run down the hall and look after her. He had absolutely no idea how to treat the bloody wound he had seen on her side though, and tears of frustration tracked down his cheeks.

He had promised her that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. At that moment he severely wished he had gone with her, despite her protests. Surely he could have done something; but then he realized he had no idea what had hurt her. She had proved herself very capable of taking care of the monsters, and she had told him she was immune. But if the men hadn't done it, who or what had?

His knees gave way under him and he let himself fall to the floor, crying out his frustration and guilt.


Sweeney had loosened Mrs. Lovett's grip from the box, and the moment he had it away from her he was tempted to throw it against the wall. She had gone off and hurt herself because of him, again. First with trying to rescue him from outside the shop, and now this. Didn't she see the danger before she walked into it?

Blood stupid woman! He cursed in his head, immediately making himself feel guilty. Finding himself in desperate need to vent his confusing emotions, Sweeney tightened his grip on the box in preparation to throw it, but he stopped himself. She risked her life for this box.

His eyes snapped down to the burnt wood, as if the item had suddenly changed. He had murdered with these razors, and when he had come back to London they had almost seemed like old friends. Did she still believe that after everything that had happened, all he would need was the company of silver?

Well why wouldn't she? A little voice challenged. You haven't been particularly nice to her. You never even thanked her for what she did!

Sweeney wanted to throttle the voice in his head, but instead laid the box down next to her head, leaving his hands free to brush the hair from her face. She had to recover… she had to get better so he could thank her.

That wont change anything. The voice of his doubts taunted.

Yes it will. He thought firmly, it will…

A loud curse from Mayhew drew the barber back to reality. His dark eyes snapped over to the apothecary with a glare. He didn't notice, thoroughly focused on removing splinters from Mrs. Lovett's side. The man had proceeded to curse and shout at any given opportunity since she had been brought back wounded, yet Sweeney noticed a strange calmness underneath it. James seemed perfectly capable at what he was doing, and his hands moved assuredly and didn't shake. Yet he sounded as if he was on the verge of a breakdown. It was a strange way to deal with stress.

Yes, but you kill people, the truth stated. Sweeney frowned at that. When compared to that, James had an excellent way of handling stress.


A/N BLARG! -tugs at hair- Drama and filler! And it's not even very long... I've been working at a preschool and time has been whizzing by at a much faster rate than usual, so this is what I got done. I promise much more to come, and hopefully a chapter that isn't less than a thousand words!

On a completely different note, did anyone go and see the Dark Knight? I saw it twice (go ahead, blame that for this chapter's lateness) and the Joker is incredibly awesome. I could care absolutely less about Batman, but the Joker.. -whistle-