When all is said and done with, after the spots of blood are cleaned up by the police, after Toby is taken back to the orphanage as Mrs. Lovett sobs, after he has his last glimpse of his friends, Sweeney Todd finds himself in a prison cell, awaiting death.
He is content to sit on the bench and replay the Judge's death over and over again in his mind. The blood, the shining of his friends, and most especially the moment the Judge's head dropped to the floor, eyes still open, glazed over with death.
The guards outside his door cast him wary looks once in awhile, remembering a brother or friend killed by the man inside. One tried to hit him, but Sweeney simply sat there as he took several blows. The man collapsed and began to sob, and had to be taken away by another guard. Sweeney sits there with a stone-cold face, lost in his own mind.
"Let me in."
"We can't do that, sir. He's a dangerous convict-"
"And you honestly think I give a damn? Let me in. I'm not afraid of him."
Sweeney's eyes flicker up, in curiosity, in amusement.
"Do you have permission?"
"Do I-? Oh, fuck it."
There is the noise of falling bodies, then silence.
"…sorry about that."
Sweeney doesn't bother getting up, but he looks at the cell door for the intruder, eyes staring straight forward, detached.
But Sweeney watches. Sweeney always watches.
The person steps into view. Sweeney doesn't move.
"Hey, you. Todd, is it?"
He doesn't bother responding, barely noticing the man's presence.
"I asked you a question."
"And I didn't dignify it with an answer."
"Listen. I just came here to talk to you. You're dying tomorrow, right? What's wrong with talking to a random stranger? You may not recognize me, but you nearly killed my brother once."
This, of course, makes Sweeney look up.
The man is smaller than Sweeney, long blonde hair tied back in a black band. He wears a black jacket and white gloves. His eyes are narrowed, his- gold? - eyes flashing in the dim light.
"Ah." Sweeney says quietly. "One of those." Other people had watched as he was taken in, thinking in horror; If I hadn't been there...
"He was about sixteen, brown hair…I came in before you lifted the razor and told him we had to get home."
Ah, yes. He did remember.
The young man sat in the chair, smiling happily as he looked around the shop. Sweeney growled to himself. It had not been a pleasant day for him, and he desperately needed to kill.
"Are you ready, good sir?"
"Yes." replied the boy, looking at him and grinning. Cheery customers always made Sweeney's mood worse...he reached over to pick up his friend and-
The door slammed open. "AL! There you are! What're you doing in here?"
"Brother?" questioned the boy, standing up. "What's wrong?"
"We have to get home...I think I found it." The boy looked at his brother in shock for a moment...and in an instant he was running out the door, bemused brother following behind.
"Sorry!" he called behind his shoulder. "I'll come back later!"
"What're you doing in a barber shop anyway? It's not like you need a shave..."
"Shut up-!"
The door slammed. Sweeney stood still for a moment, before screaming his frustrations to the world.
"I didn't kill him. So what are you doing here?"
"You bastard." The man's voice shakes with anger. "What if I hadn't gotten there in time, dammit? My brother's all I have left!"
"We all deserve to die."
"No!"
The conviction in the young man's voice jerks Sweeney's head up to look into his eyes, burning with hatred and misery and…pain?
"No one deserves to die, dammit. Not even bastards like you. Do you hear me? No one!"
"So, are you going to get me out of here, then?"
"What do you have to live for now?"
The man's question catches him off guard for once, and he stares at the wall.
"I lived for revenge. My revenge has been delivered. Now I can die."
"That's an awful reason to live."
"Lucy…" his lips form the words, but no sounds come out. Memories flood back to him as the young man keeps talking.
"Lust, envy, gluttony, pride, greed, sloth, and wrath. The seven deadly sins, as I'm sure you know. You're guilty of all, lust for blood, envy for...for the whole damn world that you couldn't have...gluttony for the lives you took, for more. So prideful in your work, so greedy for others' bodies, their lives. I've seen some of your work, and if that's not wrath, I don't know what it. Living only for revenge, you did nothing but take it, then sit and glare and repeat the process all over again!"
The man took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I don't know what your motivation is. I don't know what your mind believes. All I know is that you nearly took the life of my brother, and you took the lives of…what was it, 83 people? And they're still counting…" the man chokes.
"I hate you. I want you to know that. I hate so much that I want to strangle you right now. But…I'm not a murderer. Not like you."
The man fell silent, staring at Sweeney.
"…Lucy…" His lips form the words again, and a murmur emerges.
"Lucy, huh?" The man smiles bitterly. "I know enough about this case to know who that is."
Sweeney doesnt reply.
"Well, Sweeney Todd, was it worth it?"
Sweeney is silent.
"Did killing all those people bring your wife back?"
Sweeney starts and looks up, but the man is gone, footsteps echoing through the lonely corridor.
And for the first time- maybe he just imagined it, later- something like regret begins to cloud the edges of his mind.
But it won't matter, anyway, because tomorrow he will be hanged in front of thousands of cheering people.
The brothers would not be among them.
I dunno. *sigh* It's 11:00 PM here, I'm tired, and I like it.
If you know who the guy is, you are awesome and get a prize of your choice. :)
Thanks to Snezhinka and my good friend AshleyInWriterland for pointing out that Sweeney DID spare some people. :P