A/N: A little maybe two to three shot of Sweeney and Toby. Toby is 14 in this not much older than he was before just a bit older so it doesn't seem so weird. Some violence, blood and language, I don't know about sexual yet. SWEENEY'S POV
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The Elixir Boy
There he was, standing up on that stage down yonder. I knew it had to be some sort of scam, some sort of product that would surely kill someone yet I couldn't stay away. The boy stood there, a tattered mess of course with a nice bowler hat.
I wondered to myself of how a boy like him in such a condition could have a perfect bowler hat like that on top of his head.
I didn't really mind what he had to say but whatever words slipped passed seemed to sound so full of pretend enthusiasm and joy. That boy wasn't truly happy; he wasn't even truly excited. He looked to be more pained and hurt than anything:
"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit
And it's filled with people who are filled with shit!
And the vermin of the world inhabit it!"
London was definitely filled with shit; nothing in this old world made sense to me. As the boy continued his rampaging speech, I was astonished by what horrid smells conjured up in a cloud just below my nostrils. What was that horrible stench? Death-no death smelled nothing like this, fear-not any fear I know, piss definitely human piss and…and ink?
The woman to the side eyed me. I knew she knew what I smelled; I turned to look over to my right. "Pardon me, ma'am, what's that awful stench?" I wondered, cringing as so.
The woman to the left acknowledged me; "Are we standing near an open trench?" she started to look around at all the surroundings while some people talked quietly. I looked over her way then stood erect as once before. "Are we standing near an open trench?" I repeated staring at the woman next to me.
Lovett leaned over a man: "Pardon me, sir, what's that awful stench?" she asked the strange man beside her. I didn't bother and returned to my usual thing. While I stood there in the crowd listening to the boy give us all his speech, I noticed the terribly strong eye contact. The boy must have been dumbfounded or even saddened by what I knew was true. Lovett handed me a bottle of the strange concoction. "What is this?" I admitted, backing away from the strong stench.
"What is this?" Lovett close beside me repeated. I took another smell, just to make sure. "Smells like piss." I backed away suddenly, and Lovett took it back. "Smells like ew!" she seemed to be startled by the disturbing aroma.
I snatched the bottle back from her. "Looks like piss." I hissed, between gritted teeth. Lovett put a hand over my shoulder. "Wouldn't touch it if I were you, dear!" she carefully reminded me. I knew it was piss; I put the cork back in and rose my brows. "This is piss, piss with ink!" and handed it back.
.
.
I turned back to the boy. What was his problem—his eyes found me where ever I seemed to wonder. I made an attempt to look away, yet the child wouldn't give up. So I stood there, waiting to see what would happen next.
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E/N: Was it good? It is going to be another short-story thing, but it's about Sweeney and Toby. I hope it didn't seem out of character?