Esteemed Malevolence

XXV: A Chance at Co-Operation

Trains of startled guests fled from the chiselled steps of the Judge's porch - women screamed despite not knowing what was going on, men shoved against one another as they bounced about through the stream of people. Everyone ricocheted off of one another, only adding to the mayhem surrounding them.

Sweeney was amongst the frenzy, carrying Eleanor tightly as he headed towards the direction of Fleet Street.

When people dispersed a bit more, they managed to gain a few more feet of space around them.

The shattering of glass fragments and dense grazing of stone bricks panicked the crowd around them both again, causing everyone to speed up in an attempt to escape from whatever they believed was chasing them all.

This time there was less shoving and more running, the upper class guests may as well have been startled sheep as they ignorantly barged past the demon barber from all directions. He briefly paused, waiting for the madness around them to subside, seeing as there was no way the two of them could get anywhere otherwise.

Eleanor raised her head from where it had been buried in the nook of his shoulder, searching his eyes when she peered at him with dread. He returned her stare immediately, his stoic façade reminiscent of an unbothered soldier who was merely doing his duty. She opened her mouth, the concerned expression on her face already causing him to feel a surge of annoyance - he'd purposely suppressed revealing certain things all night to keep her from becoming preoccupied, yet he hadn't been able to stop something spontaneous from startling her.

He couldn't stop the bloody woman from worrying, it seemed, even if he wasn't the direct cause.

"Don't." he spoke lightly, yet gruffly as he brought his head down closer to her so that she was able to hear him clearer. "Don't say a word. Not until we are out of this, understand? Not one word, Mrs Lovett. You 'ear me?"

He recognised the fearful tears that coated her irises as she nodded at him. Tears that he'd seen when he'd often thrown her against the wall of his parlour, tears that had made him feel powerful - yet he didn't find himself feeling so pleased with himself now that she was silently pleading for him to take her away from whatever mess they'd stumbled into.

From both her silence and the shock that had struck over her features, he was certain that he could trust her to obey him.

With her hands grappled around his neck and his arms holding her up securely, he propelled himself forwards, barging diagonally through the flow of distressed people.

Eleanor clung onto him tightly - if it had been any other situation, she'd have been more than blushing from where he'd placed his hands in order to carry her, yet she was too concerned to notice. She buried her head beneath his chin, squeezing her eyes shut, attempting to block out the noise of squabbling shouts and frantic footsteps firing off around her.

She must have shut herself off to sleep at some point, because the next time she opened her eyes, there was no sign of the people crammed in around them both - only spacious cobbles and for once, the comforting coldness of the winter air. Considering the two of them had abandoned their overcoats, it was more than a bitter chill.

She pretended she was still dozing, just so that she had the excuse to keep her head close to Sweeney - the sound of him panting out (he'd halted jogging just before she'd woken) was somewhat comforting too.

In her mind, she attempted to make sense of what had just happened, yet nothing she came up with seemed a plausible explanation. His brain was also reeling with the same questions, yet his confusion didn't quite reach his features.