A/N: first story. Just had to write it. So please review just no flames. I have no beta so yes I might have made mistakes. Sorry. This was based off both the play and the movie. Toby is my favorite character so I had to write about him. By the by, the pseudonym wad created before the story. Coincidence, I swear. All in the thoughts of Toby.

He did it. He didn't really remember any of it. Well not the important parts. He did remember the feel of the silver handle in hand, the clang it made when he dropped it on the stone floor. But he doesn't recall the moment when he slit the throat of Mr. Todd. He doesn't really know why he did it. Revenge. It was what Mr. Todd knew. The language he spoke. Who was he avenging?

He doesn't how Mrs. Lovett died, but he knows she is dead. He felt in when he came up from the dark horrible sewer that the one person he cared about and who cared about him was gone. He was sure Mr. Todd had done it. So he picked up the blade and without a sound dug it into the flesh of the man he hated and cared at the same time.

Why did he care? Was it because Mrs. Lovett cared? Because Mr. Todd provided for him? But he hadn't cared enough to spare his life.

He must be made. He knew he was mad at this point, after what he had seen, done, experienced. But was he mad? He felt quite normal, walking about Fleet Street. Mad, he's definitely mad. But he doesn't make his to Fogg's, he's not that mad.

He has nowhere to go. Anyone who cared for him or at least gave him a home is dead. Even Senor Pirelli is gone. Not he's sad. He won't go back to the workhouse. Never.

He sat outside Mr. Todd's barbershop. A young man showed up looking for a girl inside. When Anthony (was it?) asked of Mr. Todd, he just said that he was gone. Anthony was just happy to see the girl (Johanna?). He thought nothing of the boy, but Johanna seemed to feel bad and insisted that please let him come. (She reminded him Mrs. Lovett. he liked that)

He loved being free. Free from ghost from his past. Free to grow up and choose what he is. In the end he chose to go back to Fleet Street. He never figured out why he did, but he knew he had to go back. Live out the life that Mrs. Lovett didn't. That didn't mean that he would open a pie shop, no sir. Nor a barbershop. He opened a tailor. He had learned to sew a while ago, so why shouldn't he make it his job?

He died there, on Fleet Street. He was old and expecting it. He knew that heaven (if there was one) would never accept him. He didn't know where he was going. But he felt certain that he would see Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd again. He did. He was a boy again, Mrs. Lovett was caring and Mr. Todd was happy, happy with his Lucy finally. But he knew that this was real wouldn't last.

He closed his eyes, and was finally at peace.