Chapter 3
Nellie
Having finally warded off the many concerned women, Nellie watched Sweeney lay in bed, exhausted. He had barely undressed (while, of course, Nellie had given him his privacy) when he collapsed on the bed, dead to the world.
Unseen in the corner, Nellie gazed at his sleeping form. Although she would never admit it to anyone, least of all herself, she kind of missed Sweeney. There had been moments where she felt sure that he shared her feelings. But, then again, she had also been sure that they could have a life together, and look how that turned out!
"Never mind that, my pet," said her Voice. "He was not what you thought he was. He slighted you. Now he will pay." Nellie sighed, most of the statement having gone completely over her head.. Only Sweeney had ever called her "pet..."
A noise from the barber attracted her attention. He was stirring feebly in his sleep, lips spilling incoherent sounds. Was he having a nightmare?
Sweeney
It started out like most of his nightmares: a replay of his arrest, Lucy's terror-stricken face lingering in his mind. He hardly even blinked an eye at this; he'd relived it so many times that by now it hardly had any effect. But then Lucy's face paled, her hair darkened and curled, and flames began to lick at its edges. Nellie screamed, hands held out beseechingly from the fire of the oven. Sweeney stood there, this time wanting to help but unable to. The flames consumed her until nothing remained except for wispy grey smoke and ashes that swirled like snowflakes...
The smoke and ashes began to coalesce, forming into a shadow of the familiar baker. Not even a shadow- a reflection, an inversion, something barely Nellie at all. She had a fierce, vengeful look on her face, an expression that had twisted his own features many times, but never Nellie's.
"How dare you. I did so much for you. This is how you thank me?" Her voice was not angry, not loud with the boiling anger that consumed him on a daily basis. It was deathly cold and eerily calm, a monotone of icy needles. Then the silhouette flew at him, dissolving as it shot forward, again forming itself into a snowstorm of ashes and embers that came to terrible life as they touched his skin... Sweeney's eyes grew wide with terror and he tried to move, but his feet were rooted to the ground. The smoke surrounded him and his was burning, the agony of fire eating at every particle of his body...
But then a coolness cut through the fire, a soft hand smoothing back his hair and chasing the fire away.
"Lucy..." he moaned, and the coolness retracted, leaving him to burn.
Nellie
Nellie saw the dream get worse, Sweeney's cries becoming more coherent. Unable to bear it anymore, she stepped to his bedside and brushed sweaty strands of hair from his forehead. He quieted, sighing out a name. But it wasn't hers.
"Lucy..." he said softly, and Nellie snatched back her hand. Immediately, Sweeney seemed to be sucked back into the dream, but Nellie ignored him this time. How could he do that to her! Lucy. Would Sweeney ever let go of that insipid little nit? Nellie let her form dissolve into the air and softly began to cry.
"Hush, now, dearrrrr," whispered the Voice.
"Leave me alone," Nellie replied, her own voice broken. She could feel the Voice's displeasure, but she ignored it. "Go away."