Suffering To Survive

Part One

Part One

Sweeney sat staring at the floorboards beneath him, the empty gin bottle forgotten and having rolled partially under the settee. Somehow, over the course of her narration, he had wound up on the floor, with her lying on the settee, one leg bent as the other bounced lazily over her elevated knee. Her slightly exposed stockings would leave most women feeling abashed, but it was also so very, her. He failed to notice this, however, he would neither look at nor utter a single word to her. Mrs. Lovett gave him a sideways glance before pulling herself into a seated position, absent-mindedly playing with her hands as she wondered if he would respond to all that she had just revealed to him.

When he continued to remain silent and appeared to take more interest in the floorboard than her, she leapt from the settee and moved to her bedroom to escape the painful silence. "Well, that's just lovely, ain't it, Nell. You've finally talked so much that ya left him mute." Her mind ran through everything that she had just told him. Homeless, a young prostitute, leaving his Johanna in the greedy hands of Turpin and Bamford. "Shite, why did I tell 'im all of that? And to think that he found me repellent before." It was then that she realised what else she had admitted to him, "God no!" She turned to lock the door in case he should snap out of his reverie and pursue her.

Too late! Sweeney Todd stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and brow raised. She jumped at the sight of him and kept her eyes set firmly on him, ready to run if he made any advancements towards her. "Listen Mr. T, I-I'm sorry 'bout talkin' your ears off just now. You only asked about 'ow I got to meet Albert, and I'm tellin' ya just about everything in me life. I know that ya doesn't like me constant chatter and I completely wasted your ti--".

Sweeney held up a hand, "You're doing it again pet." Lovett mumbled a quiet apology under her breath. Well, he hadn't brought up Lucy, but she had to keep his thoughts away from her recent revelation. She switched the topic to how his hand was feeling. "A bit sore I suppose, but fine overall, the stitches are still intact." Another silence fell between them before Nellie suggested getting something for his ache, she began to walk away until Sweeney grabbed onto her hand. "Wait, Mrs. Lovett. I can't-I mean, I had no idea that you've..." Sweeney stopped when he discovered that he couldn't think of what to say, he would have never expected all that she had just revealed to him.

After giving him some time to find whatever words he wanted to say and still getting nothing, she took his silence as the end of the conversation. Sweeney continued to stand in the baker's bedroom, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he'd never stepped foot in her private quarters before. He was honestly surprised by how nice it looked. When he had first returned, she had droned on about how much of a failure her shop was, this décor did not reflect a woman in poverty, thought it didn't reflect one of any great wealth either. Then again, she had been fairing very nicely since her re-opening, and perhaps she had wanted to rid herself of some memories of when she was virtually destitute. His gaze swept over a jewelry box, the first thing to grab his attention being the ruby ring on the chain that her late lover had intended to propose to her with. An unfamiliar feeling suddenly tugged at him as he held the necklace in his hand.

Stepping back into the parlour, he found Lovett sitting with two glasses of gin poured for them. "I put this one in a cold spot after the doctor had stitched ya up. Grab it with your bad 'and, the cold might dull the pain. He gave me some laudanum if the pain worsens but thought some gin would do fine if it's just a dull ache." He nodded and sat beside the baker, taking the glass from her hand as he thought of what to say next.

He grimaced slightly as the cool glass rubbed against his stitches; her brows furrowing as she cocked her head towards him. "Listen to me, Mrs. Lovett, I couldn't think of what to say back there. I spent fifteen miserable years in a hell on earth, and my revenge is just about the only thing that keeps me alive. Yet, you always seem so exuberant; how do you manage that with such a dark past like you've had?" He shocked even himself with his genuine intigue in her answer. Maybe there was a small piece of him that felt a sense of envy over her ability to look pat her misery. Mrs. Lovett shrugged her shoulders, explaining that there are people who deal with things much worse and somehow find a way to keep breathing, even if they may still be suffering. Sweeney nodded his head and, staring into her eyes, asked, "And what about you Mrs. Lovett? Are you suffering?"