Caught Somewhere in Time

A trip to Whitechapel

"Are you ready, Mr. B?" Eleanor's cheery voice greeted him, bringing him out of his reverie. Everything that happened the night before had been assailing his exhausted mind and no attempt to think of Lucy or Johanna was effective enough to prevent his heart from clenching at the recent memories. "Hello? Can you hear me?" she asked and he finally looked at her. She was smiling, unbridled hope reflected in her dark chocolate eyes. She had no idea about the torrent of emotions she had unleashed with nothing but a warm hug and the way she stated with uttermost confidence that he was a good man deep inside. She'd always seen the best in him, even when there was no goodness left. If you only knew, Mrs. Lovett, what a monster I really am.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lovett. Shall we?" he finally replied. It was pointless to dwell on thoughts that would lead him nowhere, nowhere he wanted to be, at least. So he focused on the task at hand: go to Whitechapel and find their witness. Eleanor nodded and gave him a wide smile before linking his arm with his. Her familiarity took him by surprise, as did the warmth that spread through his body at the contact with her soft skin. It was just like the night before... He sharply pulled apart like a bullet out of a gun. "Don't touch me"

"Sorry, I... wasn't thinking" she quickly apologised. Her eyes met his briefly before she lowered her gaze, but it was enough for him to get a glimpse of her soul. Confusion, hurt and loneliness because she thought theirs was a budding friendship he was letting her know they were merely acquaintances with a common goal, and that's all they'd ever be. He suddenly remembered why he so intently tried to avoid Eleanor's eyes at all costs in his original timeline, because he always got more than he bargained for. Swallowing the growing feeling of something he could only interpret as regret, he decided to somehow attempt to amend it.

"It's fine. But we're both married to other people, we wouldn't want to give everyone the wrong impression" he explained, meaning every word but hiding the real reason he didn't want her touch on his skin. She smiled weakly and shook her head, settling for walking by his side and animatedly trying to make conversation with him, not managing to elicit more than his usual grunts and monosyllabic answers. She had easily forgiven and forgotten his harshness, or at least pretended to do so, just like her older self did at his weakest attempts to build a bridge between the two or soften the blow of his words and actions. It was then he realised he'd never really apologised to his Eleanor for every time he treated her with anything other than respect, he'd never seen the need to.

"Can we stop by the market? There are some things I need to get. I'll be quick" she said and without waiting for his response, Eleanor grabbed his arm again to pull him in the direction St. Dunstan's market. So much for him asking her not to touch him. Unlike him, she apologised often but her apologies were meaningless. She would never change, she would never respect his boundaries or heed his threats if it didn't suit her. She only cared about herself, that selfish she-devil. He owed her no apologies

He morosely waited in a corner, his eyes fixated on her as she weaved her way through the crowds and began fluttering around different stands, buying everything she saw, from oranges, eggs and flowers to a rag doll and a fancy straw hat that looked way too small for her big head of curls. He could only imagine how she got the money to splurge like that on things she seemingly didn't need, with Albert being so stingy. He didn't know how long he stood there, getting progressively more overwhelmed at the swarm of people crowding round the small square. He absolutely hated the market, every day but especially during rush hours and that was the time Eleanor seemed the more eager to go. Besides, she always introduced him to people he absolutely didn't want to meet. Thank God Lucy never forced him to go with her... before he could conjure a vision of his ethereal Lucy and her perfection to calm his frayed nerves, Eleanor was back with two big baskets of God knows what, telling him they could go now.