Picked Apart
Picked Apart
Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or Mrs. Lovett; I'm just manipulating them
She wished she could go inside and pick him apart.
She wished she could sort through all those thoughts running through his dark head, hear them, and try to understand them. Was revenge really all Sweeney Todd thought about? She wanted to know, but she couldn't. He never told her, although on occasions she would hear him mumbling about eh Judge under his breath. He was obsessed, but how obsessed? Where was the point where the thoughts of Judge Turpin's blood ceased and other thoughts began? And…And what would those thoughts be of?
Lucy. It was always about Lucy. She needed no clue to figure that out; she did not want to venture into his thoughts if it meant knowing he was thinking of her, his first love, the one he had lost. It was a tragedy what had befallen poor, beautiful Lucy, but it had been no ones fault but her own. So naïve, so trusting, to walk right into Turpins talons, always a silly little ninny without a thought in her flawless head. But Mr. Todd just could not see that, and she knew that he could never think that, even if he knew it was true which, deep down, she knew he did. Lucy had ultimately led him to this state, filled her thoughts with a dark revenge that would take possibly years to carry out. That silly little bitch was lucky she was insane, or she would have found herself dead by Mrs. Lovett's hands. After the torture she saw Mr. Todd put himself into everyday, the spoiled girl deserved it.
Mr. Todd…It was not simply just his thoughts she wanted to pick apart; oh no, they were only on the surface, and although vague at times they were still prominent, since all his thoughts were on the Judge and the ninny Lucy. She wanted to pick apart his feelings, find what really made him tick, what made him breathe. What was hidden beneath all the violence and blood in Sweeney Todd? What was beyond the lust for vengeance and the desire to end lives?
Benjamin Barker had been a gentleman through and through—it was part of the reason Mrs. Lovett had fallen for him. He had smiled to her every time he saw her, always laughed, his brown eyes always so bright…Sweeney Todd was less than half of the man. A callous killer, a volatile man thirsty for more wrath and blood. He never smiled, and he never laughed; he sulked and brooded and threw fits of rage so potent that they frightened her most of the time. Sweeney Todd was far from Benjamin Barker, and yet still, his heart—their hearts—beat in the same chest. It was from Benjamin barker that Sweeney Todd was formed, so was it through Benjamin Barker that Sweeney Todd was destroyed?
She wanted them both, in truth; passionate Sweeney and loving Benjamin, a mix of two entirely different beings borne from the same soul, once so pure and than blacked by the debris of his life. She had never given up the belief that good—as in Benjamin—still existed somewhere deep inside the confines of his black heart, and once freed, once she picked that cell door, she would have the man of her dreams.
But he would never let her pick him apart, never let her release that dying man from that cage so long as there was wrath and vengeance. No, Sweeney Todd couldn't be picked apart, even though Mrs. Lovett foolishly daydreamed that she could do it, free him, understand him.
But what she did not understand was that absolute chaos could not be picked apart, just as blood couldn't be, just as darkness couldn't be. There was no point to find, no place to start, so Mrs. Lovett was just flailing in emptiness, scouring it as Sweeney slowly but surely picked apart her mind, and, most of all, her heart.
Review please! Wasn't it kind of dark? Wow, I didn't really want it to turn out that way but if it worked...Eh!