Thanks to Rainbow Username (thanks, but I think I'll pass on that meat pie XD), Jillian the porcelain maiden, AThousandVoices, and doyoureallycare for reviewing/doing whatever you did to make me happy :)

Ohwards then!

Chapter 8

As dark chocolate eyes and cold dark orbs fell onto the site of the flames, as if right on cue, rain began to pour. Yes, it had been raining on and off all day long, and the sky was dark and ominous, and it was bound to happen at any moment. But the way it fell right as the three stumbled upon the site was eerie. As if someone had made a huge mistake, and was trying to cover their fault before the authority walked into the room. As if the world was a second too late in hiding the flames from their eyes.

Cold rain fell over the three, smoke filled the air, and sparks fell, mixing in with the rain water in a fight over who would cover more of the ground below.

And the ashes and the rain fell, but all of them hardly noticed.

Toby stood there, his arm still hanging in the air, pointing at the wreck, paralyzed at the site. Nellie craned her head to see the smoldered remains, forgetting to even breathe as she took in the site.

And Sweeney Todd's eyes widened, his revenge-ridden thoughts halting abruptly as he saw the place where he'd lived for so long, only a skeleton in what the fire left behind.

"What's happened?" softly rose above the sound of the heavy rain. Mrs. Lovett's voice, quiet at first and then frantic and panicking. "What's happened? What's happened?" Sweeney didn't notice, but Toby watched as his mum whipped herself around Fleet Street, rushing up to every person in the streets, tapping them on the shoulder, but none seemed to care. They were all now in a hurry to get out of the pouring rain.

"Hello? ? Can someone please tell me how this happened? Does anyone know? ? Hello? ?" her voice rose, echoing in the street that was becoming vacant. "Why won't they listen? ?" she asked as she watched another person she was talking to walk into a nearby shop.

"They don't care. We aren't important enough to anyone," Toby muttered.

They all figured it so in the back of their minds. For perhaps rumors had gotten out. Perhaps about the disappearing men, or the attempted murders of each other, and it wasn't enough of a story to start police on anything, but it was a haunting enough word to stop the customers, and make socializing with the residence of that shop frowned upon.

Mrs. Lovett closed her eyes and sighed, her breath coming out it shakes. Turning back to the smoldering building, she opened her eyes and squinted through the rain. "Oh…my…" she choked out, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and stifle the sobs that were erupting from the pain. Rolling her eyes and shaking her rain drenched head, she filled her lungs back with the musty air.

Be thankful, right?

Be thankful it began to rain.

Be thankful it didn't get to the shop or any of the lower level.

Be thankful no one was home.

But as Nellie took another deep breath to calm the shock, she turned back to Sweeney, and she could tell he wasn't thinking the same grateful thoughts.

He looked much like he had when he first came through the pie shop's door after his return, only…all of his emotions were deeper now.

Less innocent and more still.

His eyes had the most emotion they've held since they became Sweeney's eyes; Sparkling with tears that the Benjamin in him begged to let fall. But the dominate Sweeney Todd easily took over and kept the weakness from showing. The darkness in his eyes where a shiny brown color used to circle was seemingly turning bigger and darker in shock. His eyebrows raised high in sadness and devastation and yet, his whole forehead narrowed inward, giving his features the last touch of anger and madness that made the face of the man standing in the middle of the street, soaked with the pouring rain, dead frightening.

Mrs. Lovett shuffled over to the barber as he didn't to move - seemed to even not breathe. She moved right in front of him, surveying his look. His gaze was above her head, easily seeing past her and gluing to what used to be his home.

Without a second thought, the baker slipped her hand next to his and grasped his palm. She hadn't even realized what she had done until she felt the small jolt that racked her body's normal heartbeat pattern when his cold hand came in contact with her. Her eyes darted to his, only slightly surprised when she saw that he didn't even notice. She hadn't intended for the grasp to mean anything more than a gesture to get him to move, and she struggled to keep it that way.

"Come on, love," she mumbled, her voice hard to hear over the rain hitting the brick streets. She pulled lightly on his arm.

The barber stumbled, only to catch his balance as she moved him, though his gaze didn't falter. Relieved she could budge him, she pulled harder.

"You'll catch your death out here."

The baker drug the dead weight across the street and through the chiming door of the pie shop. Toby tagged along, all of their eyes still glued upward. Even once they had stepped inside, their gaze remained up. The pie shop was an eerie silent besides the sound of the rain dripping on the windows and the water falling off their wet clothes,

"Everything looks alright in here," Nellie said, surveying the seemingly sturdy pie shop's ceiling and not caring if either of the boys heard her or not.

"Yeah, for now," Toby muttered back, scrunching his nose at the bitter smell of smoke that now filled the entire lower half of the building. "Till the floor of upstairs caves in…"

"Well," Mrs. Lovett sighed, "Let's not run off to the workhouse just yet, alright?" she finished, not trying to hide the annoyance from her tone. She shot a glare at Toby. Not nearly as frightening as the daggers Mr. Todd usual threw, but enough for Toby to figure he shouldn't of said that. Besides, even the mention of the workhouse ran a chill up his spine that caused his whole body to shudder.

"Toby, love, yah wanna go check the rest of the house for me?"

Toby was about to protest, but he supposed that he could dry himself off while he was back there also, so he nodded and walked away.

Nellie sighed and closed her eyes.

So much for getting back to normal

She slowly turned on her heel so she could see Mr. T, who was still standing in front of the pie shop door, with that same look on his face, still with his eyes on the ceiling.

"Oh," the baker couldn't help but let a sound pity escape the back of her throat. She slid her feet over to where the pale man stood.

The baker stood only about a foot from him, her eyebrows pulled upward and together in sympathy for the barber. "Oh, Mr. T," she whispered. Absent mindedly, her arms flew up. But she stopped herself, her arms halting and floating in the air, her fingertips only inches from his elbows. She could tell from his high gaze that the barber didn't notice, but she still bit her lip and lowered her arms. It took everything in her to not wrap him in a hug. But it simply wouldn't mean the same comfort to him she wanted it to mean.

"Mr. T…I'm so sorry…" seemed to be the only words she could think of.

Nellie could tell that, for once, the thoughts buzzing around in the demon's head weren't revenge motivated.

Benjamin Barker lived there for years. His wife and him moved in, lived there, worked there, loved there, for so long. Johanna was born there. She took her first steps across that floor. And even after Benjamin Barker was sent away, he lived in the memories of that place. Eventually, nothing of Benjamin Barker did exist except for what had happened in that small room where he lived. And even when Sweeney was the one that occupied the cell where Benjamin used to suffer, he longed for the day when he could see the room again. Gaze out the large window across the London streets. Set up the barber chair once again and make sure that certain people got to it. And even though the room held memories, good memories that hurt to remember, hurt to know that it was all over and could never happen again, it was a place where the demon could always go. And feel at home, close to his dead wife, and in power.

And he had lost everything.

Besides the memories that now lay in ashes, he had also lost his workplace, his fancy chair, and all of his precious friends.

"Nothing burnt Mum, but there were some leaks in yah bedroom's ceiling. Don't worry I put some pans under them but it's an awful racket," came Toby's voice from next to the parlor's threshold.

At the sound of his voice something suddenly popped into the baker's mind. She spun around brusquely, her wet hair almost whipping Mr. T in the face. "Toby!" Nellie shouted rather loudly, making Toby jump. "Toby, lad. The razor! I told… I told you to bring a razor! Didn't I? Show it, love…give it here!" Mrs. Lovett said fairly quick, reaching out her hand to the boy.

Toby held his breath. He knew he had the razor. He could feel the weight in his right-hand pocket; he could feel the cold silver against his skin.

He didn't break his Mum's hopeful gaze as he pulled his left pocket inside out, shook his head and mumbled, "Must of falling out…" Forcing a frown he added, "I'm sorry, Mum."

Nellie sighed, her shoulders slouching and her eyes dropping with disappointment. Slowly, she turned back around to the barber. Displeasure was replaced by surprise when she saw the look on Mr. Todd's face.

The fire had returned to his eyes, and his gaze had finally come down to stare daggers at the two in the room.

He lost it?

That boy had taken one of his razors without his permission and… lost it? Not only this but the woman actually let him take it? Told him to? Now any person - any one of London's dirty, filthy buggers - could have it. Could use it. Could abuse it.

"Now, love," broke the demon's thoughts. Mrs. Lovett, her voice low and quick "It was an accident, you know that. I only told him to take it for our own protection. Don't be angry love."

But Nellie's thoughts of defense were interrupted too, by the smash of a pot on the pie shop's door, right to the left of the barbers head. The loud clank shook up the baker, causing her eyes to grow large and her to jump. Mr. Todd didn't even flinch as he glared behind him at the large soup pot as it rolled on the ground.

Mrs. Lovett spun around again, her eyebrows now pulled together. "Toby!" she scolded loudly.

The lad was already searching with his eyes where the pot could have flown from. Somewhere to his left, from what he saw out of the corner of his eye. At his mum's voice, his eyes shot up. "It wasn't me!" he shouted back defensively.

The baker shot a confused look at the boy but was immediately distracted by the sudden movement of a bowl on the counter. It rolled around on its base for a few seconds, and then stopped as suddenly as it had started.

"What the bloody h…" But Mrs. Lovett's puzzling words were cut off by the movement of the bowl again. But this time, it lifted in the air and threw itself at the baker. She could practically hear it whoosh through the air as it flew toward her head.

Not being able to help the scream escaping her throat, Nellie ducked to the ground. Well, more like threw herself on the ground, her hands barely being able to keep her body from hitting the ground painfully.

Upon seeing the bowl spiraling toward his head, Sweeney did nothing but lean his body a bit to the right, the bowl strategically missing his head by inches.

"It wasn't me!" Toby shouted again, holding his hands up in defense. Mrs. Lovett nodded at the boy as she tried to sit up.

Suddenly, all the glasses and tea cups on the shelves next to the parlor door and directly to the left of Toby began to shake violently. As if an earthquake that none of the three in the room could feel was racking the city. Yet, instead of simply crashing to the floor below, they too began to fly across the shop. Toby hastily ducked behind the curtain to the parlor as the glass crashed against the walls, the floor, and aimed themselves at the barber and baker still standing by the door.

And suddenly, the whole room was in chaos.

More pots and pans flew this way and that at high speeds. The dusty plates from under the counter smashed around the room. Rolling pins and spoons danced and flew. Flour clouded the room and even the table and chairs began to bounce with the ruckus.

Nellie just sat in a ball on the floor, her hands over her head, praying that none of the flying objects would find her so low to the ground.

None of the three were exactly sure how long the rumpus lasted, but it seemed like hours later when the last tea cup shattered against the wall and the pie shop was left in a haunting silence.

Mrs. Lovett slowly picked up her head (her hands still covering it, just in case) as Toby peaked back between the curtains.

"Is everyone alright?" Toby asked, steeping into the shop. Glass crunched beneath his shoes.

A thin sheet of glass carpeted the tile floor. Utensils, towels and large pots and pans were sprinkled every few feet. The overall appearance of the shop was just plain disarray, as if a tornado had blown through.

"I'm fine," Nellie said, sitting up and checking herself for cuts the shards of glass could have caused. None. No bumps or bruises either.

Got lucky, she figured.

"Mr. T?" The baker asked, her eyes gliding behind her and up at the man who towered over her.

There he stood, surrounded by heavy pots that were recently airborne and broken glasses and cups, but he was untouched.

"Well," Mrs. Lovett said, sarcasm hinting at the end of the word. Standing up and brushing some of the flour off her dress, she finished, "Wonder who could have done that…"

She scrutinized the barber for a moment. She shook her head in wonder that he was unharmed. It wasn't like he was a target hard to miss.

She simply sighed and shook her head.

Perhaps the spirit was simply messing with them…for now at least.

"Come on," she sighed, grabbing Mr. Todd's wrist rather rough. He didn't flinch, he simply illustrated the same angry-at-the-world face he had been playing through all of this.

"Let's get you something to eat, love." And the baker was able again to drag the barber into the next room.

"Toby, get the broom," she muttered, exhaustedly as she sat the hopeless man on the parlor's couch and left him alone.

And the hauntings continue! Review it up, I love hearing from you guys!