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kinkfestTitle: In Dreams
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melodywilde
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 566
Summary: Lucy is there for him.
A/N: Thanks toevilmissbecky for the beta. As usual, this didn't go exactly the way I'd planned, so I hope it's acceptable.
The Prompt: Sweeney Todd, Sweeney/Lucy: dreams – walking hand in hand down the lonely roads of yesterday
In Dreams
by Melody Wilde
She came to him the very first night that he slept in the dusty remains of the room that had once been his home.
“Benjamin.” She was a soft breath into his ear, soft lips against his cheek. She took his hands and pulled him up, off the narrow cot and into her arms. “Oh Benjamin, you’ve come back to me.”
He could do nothing but stand there like some witless fool and stare as she pressed herself against him and kissed him again and again, the way he’d dreamed she’d do. She was so young. So beautiful.
“Lucy?”
She widened her eyes and asked playfully, “Would you allow any other young woman to make so free with you, sir?”
He didn’t want to tell her that he hadn’t recognized her at first. That too many years of heat and hard work and every form of abuse known to man (and some he’d never imagined) had stolen her memory from him. That for too long, when he’d thought of her all he could see was her bright yellow hair.
Looking into her face, he suddenly wondered how he could have imagined he’d forgotten. “No,” he breathed. “Never. Only you, love.”
And then he caught her to him and returned her kisses and swung her around as he had when they were young and first married. She laughed and gave him her sweet smile and allowed him to unbutton her dress and put her onto the bed and do as he wanted with her and writhed beneath him with a passion that she’d always claimed afterwards was inappropriate in a good woman.
He woke gasping and sticky and knowing it had only been a dream, and turned his face into the thin pillow and wept as he had not for ten years and more.
* * *
She came the next night, and the next, and in his dreams things were the way they should have been. They were together, walking hand in hand, watching Johanna play on a blanket on the floor, sipping tea, or tangled and sated in their bed. The dreams were more real to him than the lonely waking hours when sometimes he could no longer remember even where Johanna’s crib had been. Each morning when he woke, he wondered if he were going mad, and knew he would welcome the madness, and gladly, if it would only give him this.
* * *
“Benjamin?”
He turned to her, arms outstretched, but she didn’t rush to greet him, didn’t smile, only stood there staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
There was fear in her eyes. She was afraid of him—his Lucy, afraid. She clasped Johanna to her breast and began to back away from him, even as he reached for her, whispering, “It’s me, love.”
“What have you done with Benjamin?” He saw her gaze drop to his hands, and she gasped. He’d cleaned Pirelli’s blood away, every bit of it, so why were his hands soaked with red now? “You’ve murdered my husband.”
Her accusation was like a knife to his heart, because he knew it was true. Benjamin Barker was dead, as dead as... “Lucy...”
She was almost at the door. Johanna, as if sensing her distress, began to wail. “Murderer. Monster!”
And then she was gone, forever.
Author/Artist:
melodywildeRating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 566
Summary: Lucy is there for him.
A/N: Thanks to
evilmissbecky for the beta. As usual, this didn't go exactly the way I'd planned, so I hope it's acceptable.The Prompt: Sweeney Todd, Sweeney/Lucy: dreams – walking hand in hand down the lonely roads of yesterday
In Dreams
by Melody Wilde
She came to him the very first night that he slept in the dusty remains of the room that had once been his home.
“Benjamin.” She was a soft breath into his ear, soft lips against his cheek. She took his hands and pulled him up, off the narrow cot and into her arms. “Oh Benjamin, you’ve come back to me.”
He could do nothing but stand there like some witless fool and stare as she pressed herself against him and kissed him again and again, the way he’d dreamed she’d do. She was so young. So beautiful.
“Lucy?”
She widened her eyes and asked playfully, “Would you allow any other young woman to make so free with you, sir?”
He didn’t want to tell her that he hadn’t recognized her at first. That too many years of heat and hard work and every form of abuse known to man (and some he’d never imagined) had stolen her memory from him. That for too long, when he’d thought of her all he could see was her bright yellow hair.
Looking into her face, he suddenly wondered how he could have imagined he’d forgotten. “No,” he breathed. “Never. Only you, love.”
And then he caught her to him and returned her kisses and swung her around as he had when they were young and first married. She laughed and gave him her sweet smile and allowed him to unbutton her dress and put her onto the bed and do as he wanted with her and writhed beneath him with a passion that she’d always claimed afterwards was inappropriate in a good woman.
He woke gasping and sticky and knowing it had only been a dream, and turned his face into the thin pillow and wept as he had not for ten years and more.
* * *
She came the next night, and the next, and in his dreams things were the way they should have been. They were together, walking hand in hand, watching Johanna play on a blanket on the floor, sipping tea, or tangled and sated in their bed. The dreams were more real to him than the lonely waking hours when sometimes he could no longer remember even where Johanna’s crib had been. Each morning when he woke, he wondered if he were going mad, and knew he would welcome the madness, and gladly, if it would only give him this.
* * *
“Benjamin?”
He turned to her, arms outstretched, but she didn’t rush to greet him, didn’t smile, only stood there staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
There was fear in her eyes. She was afraid of him—his Lucy, afraid. She clasped Johanna to her breast and began to back away from him, even as he reached for her, whispering, “It’s me, love.”
“What have you done with Benjamin?” He saw her gaze drop to his hands, and she gasped. He’d cleaned Pirelli’s blood away, every bit of it, so why were his hands soaked with red now? “You’ve murdered my husband.”
Her accusation was like a knife to his heart, because he knew it was true. Benjamin Barker was dead, as dead as... “Lucy...”
She was almost at the door. Johanna, as if sensing her distress, began to wail. “Murderer. Monster!”
And then she was gone, forever.
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