Author: AngelofDarkness1605 PM
Mr. Todd returns from one of his nigthly walks in the rain, thus waking Mrs. Lovett. She tries to look after him, but will he let her?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Drama/Romance - Eleanor L. & Sweeney T. - Words: 1,181 - Reviews: 20 - Favs: 19 - Follows: 2 - Published: 01-04-08 - Status: Complete - id: 3991244
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for a part of the plot.
Mrs. Lovett woke up in the middle of the night when she heard footsteps on the chairs next to her room, which led to Sweeney Todd's shop. On this hour it could only be the barber himself who walked there, returning from one of his long night walks through London.
She allowed herself for a few seconds to fantasy about how it would be if he wouldn't go to his room, but to hers instead. He would never do that, but the thought alone was enough to make her life a bit happier. Yet she didn't want to believe too much in her dreams: she would only be disappointed if he would reject her again.
She focused on the things that weren't connected with him in some way – which wasn't much – but she would never sleep again if she was aware of the fact he was in the room above her.
When she finally almost dozed off, a drop of water fell on her face.
She peered in the darkness but couldn't see where it came from. She lit a candle and in it's light the source from the drop was revealed: it was not, like she had expected, from the windows or even the back door, but from the ceiling.
The single drop was followed by another one, and another one; apparently there was a leak in the roof. Knowing that Mr. Todd wouldn't do anything about it even if the entire roof was gone, thus catching the most horrible diseases, she got out of bed and put on a robe and hurried upstairs.
Without knocking she threw open the door to his shop. It was completely dark inside. Luckily the candle was still burning, despite the wind and rain, otherwise she probably wouldn't have seen him. He was sitting on the floor, pretending not to notice her – or maybe he really didn't.
She scanned the ceiling of the room in the light of the candle.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I'm looking for the leak, love. It was almost raining downstairs."
She scrutinized the walls when she didn't see anything about the roof that could explain the water.
"Didn't you notice anything, Mr. T.? If I felt it, you surely must have. It was after you got home… where have you been, anyway?"
"Yes I understand that. But why going out? In the darkness, in the rain?"
"I needed to be alone."
"But Mr. T.! You're alone all the time!"
"No," he said while casting a dark look on her. "I'm not."
Before he could say one more word, he walked out of the room and shut the door in her face.
She sighed, cursing his stubbornness, and scrutinized the walls again for some sort of whole in it where the water should come from.
However, she still didn't see anything. Maybe she had just imagined it. She returned to her bed, while worrying about the behavior of Mr. Todd.
A few hours later she woke from a light and restless sleep. Again it were drops of rain water that were falling on her face who waked her, yet now it were much more than a few drops.
She went upstairs again: no matter what Mr. Todd would say, it couldn't go on like this.
"Leave me," he said before she had even opened the door far enough to enter.
"I'll leave after there has been done something against that leak. I can't sleep like this."
Instead of a candle she had taken an oil lamp with her which light was enough to make the dark corners of the shop visible.
"I'm trying to sleep," he gnarled.
"No, you're not. You never sleep."
Her remark was indifferent, but inwardly she cried. Where was Benjamin Barker? Who was this stranger that had replaced him? She kept hoping the man she loved would return one day. Before he did, she had to look after this person who was more a ghost than a man.
She tried not to bother him with the light, not wanting to hear more hurting words coming from his mouth.
After she had checked all the corners of the room without finding anything, she cast one glance at him, as if to say goodnight to him. Only then she noticed what the source of the rain water was – or rather: who.
"Mr. T!" she cried, while putting the lamp close to him. "You're soaking wet!"
" I know."
"Why didn't you say something?!"
"You didn't ask."
"Mr. T., how could I have guessed that… what's in your mind, silly man? Walking outside n the rain like this? You need to put on some dry clothes, or you'll get ill."
"I don't have other clothes."
"I'm sure you can wear some of Albert's old clothes…"
She hurried away and returned within a few minutes with a towel and some clothes. Mr. Todd didn't have seemed to move or even blinked his eyes in that time.
She reached for his shirt to unbutton it, so she could dry his skin and put other clothes on him. He would never do that himself, after all.
However, before she touched his shirt, he grasped her wrist.
"Don't touch me," he hissed.
"But Mr. T., I have to… you must…"
"Don't. Touch. Me."
His voice was so haunting and the hand that forced hers away from his body was so strong, that she obeyed.
"Alright, Mr. T., whatever you wish… but please, at least dry yourself with that towel. All the water from your clothes and hair drips through the floor. It prevents me from sleeping.
"If you finally leave me then."
"I will, Mr. T.," she said reluctantly.
Instead of drying himself he dried the floor and threw the towel on it after he was done.
Tears shone in her eyes because of his indifference towards his health and her well-meant help. Knowing that there was nothing more she could do for him, she left him, and lay down in her bed for the third time that night.
Now she wasn't near him anymore, she finally could cry openly. She pushed her face in the pillow, like the overwhelming sadness would decrease that way. Of course it didn't. She turned around again, taking a deep breath, forcing herself to be strong. She stared to the ceiling, as if she could force him mentally to take more care of himself.
The water began to drop again; the towel must've been soaked as well. The rain drops in her face were like tears, falling on her face and rolling over her cheeks. Tears that both were his and hers: he couldn't cry anymore, so she cried for both.
He would never return her love. She would never abandon him.