A/N All I can think of to say is 'holy fucking shit, I can't believe I finally have this up'. Apologies about the sudden intense swearing, it's three in the morning. I'll save further mildly flabbergasted comments for the end. Still, congrats and big thanks to those who have made it this far. I didn't even think I would...


48

Once he was back in his lab, James had slammed the door shut behind him. It took him just a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he shouted profanities to the ceiling. He gripped his head in a fit of desperation, trying to work out his sudden anger. Hadn't he gotten these emotions out already? Wasn't he over this? Shouting again, he turned towards one of the shelves and knocked the equipment to the floor. He had taken it so well when she told him… was seeing her with him such a big difference?

Yes.

James let out a small groan, his hands sliding forward to cover his face. A few tears made their way down to soak into his fingers, but the sorrow ended quickly. The apothecary lashed out at his equipment once more, actually kicking the shelf with such force that his knee ached.

Eleven years. He had spent eleven years wondering if the time was right to go talk to her. Obviously she never thought it was the right time to visit him; but what if he had plucked up the courage to go talk to her? Surely things would have worked out differently. They could have worked through the Lucy problem together… Could have been together. Instead he had holed up, stared through his curtains down the street, and spent sleepless nights staring at the ring he had bought her.

Forcefully stomping on the glass on the floor, James moved forward to the tall stack of papers. Sweeping the notes onto the floor he lashed out with his other foot to strike the shelf.

Now both his knees hurt.

Turning sharply to look for something else to destroy, James froze. His eyes landed on the counter where Eleanor had lain after Anthony brought her back. His arms hung limply to his sides as he stared at the spot. Little splashes of her blood stained the wood, and his things were already moved away to make just enough room for her. James sank down to his knees, eyes never leaving the shelf. The erratic breathing he had obtained during his little fit was subsiding, and his mind was slowly going blank. Before Eleanor clouded everything in his mind, one final voluntary thought slipped into his consciousness.

Hate…Sweeney Todd.


Anthony held Johanna as close to him as he possibly could, but his eyes never left the door at the end of the hall. Mrs. Lovett's scream still seemed to echo around them, making him too paranoid to turn his gaze elsewhere.

"Anthony…" Johanna sobbed, her face was buried in his chest and her hands held onto his coat so tight her knuckled had turned white. "What….what did we do?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but no comprehensible sound came out.

"How could- and, and Mr. Todd!"

"Shh," Anthony finally murmured, still unsure of what to do.

"What- what're we g-going to do?"

"Shh," he continued, gently rubbing her back. "It's going to be fine." The words seemed to be such a lie it was hard to say them. "We're going to be fine Johanna."

"Hu-how do you know?"

I don't. "I just do," he mumbled into her hair.

She gave a loud sniff, trying to stop her tears. "But how?"

Before Anthony could reply, a new voice cut into their conversation.

"What did you do to her?"

The teens jumped in surprise, heads nearly colliding as they turned towards the voice. Seeing Mayhew hadn't been what they expected, as the spoken words had been flat and lifeless. His clothes were badly rumbled and his hair poked up at odd angles. The apothecary's gray eyes stared listlessly at the teens, as if not really expecting an answer.

"We-we," Johanna stuttered. "We were just-" and then she gasped when her eyes finally saw the blood. "Mr. Mayhew! Your hand."

Both he and Anthony turned their attention as she spoke. James held a large shard of glass in one of his hands, it edge barely poking out into view as blood dripped down to the floor from between his fingers.

"Nothing," he dropped the shard and let his bleeding hand hang limply at his side. "What did you do?" He repeated.

As he asked again they felt less compelled to answer. His odd behavior, the strange feeling of death that surrounded him and the fact he seemed not to care as his own blood slowly dripped to the floor made them wary. At that point it almost seemed he had taken some of his own compound and was turning into a creature with no feeling.

"Why wont you tell me?" James suddenly barked. "I already saw them! Now what did you do?!"

"We didn't do anything!" Johanna snapped, feeling guilty. "It's just, Mr. Todd… he's, he's dead and-"

It was a faint sound, but it still made the girl stop short. Mayhew was biting his lip but the joy still showed in his eyes. Another moment passed as he stifled his giggles, then his mouth opened to let out a full bellied laugh. He leaned heavily on the wall, tears actually streaming down his face.

James no longer looked happy though, and inbetween laughs he choked out, "she's going to hate me now."

Johanna stepped away from Anthony, feeling the strong desire to defend Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett. "How dare you laugh! After everything Mr. Todd has done- everything my father-" She faltered, surprised at the words that had come from her mouth.

Mayhew didn't seem to notice though, his back was against the wall and he was sliding towards the floor. "That man has done nothing but ruin my life. Without even trying. He and that blonde haired wench he had for a wife."

Anthony was holding Johanna back before she even realized she had moved. She struggled against him for only a moment before shouting, "how dare you speak ill of my parents!"

"I can speak as I want, Johanna." James turned his attention to the glass shard he had dropped. He smiled softly and reached out towards it. "Speak how you want before you die. It's…liberating to really speak your mind."

Johanna forced her anger away, slightly horrified at the look the apothecary was giving the glass shard. He wasn't going to… he wouldn't do such a thing.

"Now at least he wont have her." The man muttered.

"What do you mean?" She snapped, her voice was still steely but the sailor's grip on her now was purely cautionary.

"He's dead." He repeated. "Bastard took her away, but now he can't have her."

"He died holding her!" The blonde countered, determined to bring down the apothecary's eerily happy mood.

"Then why did she scream?" His eyes flickered up to the teens, the creeping edge of madness now in them.

When Johanna faltered on what to say next, Anthony pulled her back into an embrace. James gave a soft 'hmph' in response before returning his attention to the glass.

"Do it!" Johanna screeched, her pushed-over anger easily coming back. "I want to see you do it!"

"Johanna!" Anthony gasped, wondering how on Earth he was supposed to calm her down. "Johanna, please-"

"This is- this is all his, his… his bloody fault! I want to see him die for everything," her voice broke as she started to cry once more. "Everything he…" She tried to keep breathing, hurriedly blinking at the fast falling tears. "Everything he's done." She finished in a whisper.

"Johanna…" Anthony's mind worked furiously to find a quick solution. He took her shoulders and turned her to face him, not wanting her to spend anymore time encouraging Mayhew to end his life. "Let's just leave. Right now, go somewhere safe."

"No where's safe…"

"We're going to find a safe place." The sailor encouraged. He drew on all of his youthful hope to keep himself talking. "We'll go out and leave this place, find the safest place there is."

She stayed silent, watching him in amazement as he spoke.

"The- the maids will come with us! And we'll find survivors and go to that safe place. Johanna, we just need to leave."

Johanna wanted to tell him what a fool he was, that no such place existed and he was going to die trying to get there. Instead she let him hold her and whispered, "yes, we'll go."


It had almost been an involuntary response. She had felt his arms around her, and blacked out with the words 'I love you' on her lips. Then it was as if he was gone and she had to open her eyes. Seeing him like that, not feeling his arms around her felt wrong. Her mind and memory had immediately tried to shield her and she had to ask his name. He was sleeping, and when she spoke he would just mumble, shift and hold her again. So Eleanor had shouted for him, desperate to ignore the warning bells going off in her head. And then all there was left was to scream. Whatever force had taken Sweeney away from her deserved to hear her grief. Had better hear it and know what they had done.

Then all she had done was hold him and cry, ignoring the faint sounds of life outside the parlor. If they weren't with her grieving, it didn't matter. Time was of little importance and she hardly noticed when what had been out-there went out-side. They could go out there to die for all she cared. Eleanor was already at her grave, she just needed to finish fading away.

When footsteps broke the second silence of the house though, she had to lift her head to see who was encroaching on her death bed.

After months at sea port could be quite a welcome sight. Especially when you were coming home. When the sailors knew London was so close they couldn't help but pray the wind would blow harder, take them where the desired to be in a fast manner. Then in the darkness they saw a glow. Though to be fair it was the smoke that had told them first. Their fair city was burning and the wind was against them coming home to save him. The entire crew became agitated and their feet itched to run and save London.

Even before they docked they knew something else was wrong; and the heaviness in the air was what kept half the crew from jumping over board once the docks were in sight. As unappealing as it would have been to hear them, there were no bells, there were no screams. There were no people.

The captain would have gladly moved on if they weren't in such need of supplies, but even after tying off the boat they hesitated about going ashore.

London could not be empty, yet she burned with only the sound of flames.

One crewmember finally dared to walk the down the gangplank, one hand firmly on the pistol he kept at his waist. The rest of the crew waited on the ship, watching him warily. Crates and barrels were stacked on the dock, some of them knocked over or broken with their goods spilling out. The man stepped carefully around those, as if they contained the plague.

"Leave."

He yanked the pistol form his belt and whirled in a circle, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Leave."

Pinpointing the sound, he cocked the pistol and aimed it at a crate to his right. A boy stood by the broken container, a sack over one shoulder and a bloodied board in one hand. "You should leave." He repeated once more.

The sailor's mouth fell open in shock at the sight of the boy, and he slowly lowered his gun. The crew on the ship shouted for him to ask questions.

"What-"

"Leave before you die. Spread the word of a plague."

"Plague? What-"

"S'easier to believe then monsters, innit? I say leave before you spread it." He snapped, his eyes darted around the crates, and he shifted the board in his hand uneasily.

"Son," the sailor began slowly. "Why don't you come with us?"

The child's eyes flickered back to the man, who suddenly cursed his kindness. He didn't want to be anywhere near that boy now, whatever he had seen to turn his eyes so cold the sailor did not want to be exposed to.

"No, you should just leave and warn people."

Giving a jerk of a nod, he ran back towards the waiting crew.

Toby watched the ship leave with little feeling. He had things to do here, there was little point in trying to run away. Turning back to the crates he continued to search for food. When he had run from the judge's house his feet had taken him here. It had taken quite a bit of thinking to come up with his plan though. Gather food and head for the sewers. The creatures couldn't climb up or down, and in Toby's mind the sewers was the perfect place to hide. Encountering any of them down there was unlikely, and aside from the smell the place was perfectly livable. But first he needed food.

Maybe there were survivors to take down into safely. Perhaps he would go back, save his mum, Mr. Todd, Johanna, Anthony and all the others that were in that man's house.

Maybe he could save people.


A/N Ok, wow, fighting down the urge to swear again. If any of you who first found this story when I actually just started it, let me give you an internet hug and handshake, because if you're reading this your are absolutely amazing. Seriously. Me actually having this story completed is insane. Those who have stuck around are fantastic. Though of course, -crazy uninsured laugh- There's some bits that are in this last chapter that are meant to make you go, but what happens next? Like a decent zombies flick, it is important to leave you with devastation, and you can picture the heroes living or dieing as you will after the story is done being told. Plus this story needed to be ended with something, and this is what it got.

It's been nearly a year since my last update. This story's epic journey is finally complete, if still full of grammatical and other forms of errors. Thank you all for going through this adventure with me. Seriously.