Disclaimer: When I finally become rich I will buy the rights to Sweeney Todd, until then, I'm afraid I don't own any of the characters (although Johnny Depp now lives in my cupboard but shh).
While writing this I was listening to Kelly Clarkson's Because of You and I'm pretty sure I got a fair bit of inspiration for this alternate ending from it, well at least how Mrs Lovett is feeling. Just a caution, this particular chapter is pretty sad, in case you didn't realise this is set just over a year after Sweeney found out about Lucy, obviously he didn't kill Mrs Lovett but she hasn't seen him since (it explains all this in the story). Well, this is my first Sweeney Todd fanfic so please tell me what you think. Okay, I shall stop talking now and get on with the story.
The gentle pitter patter of the rain falling outside the shop was drowned out by the continuous thumping of a rolling pin against a bench. It had been a year since the man she loved had disappeared without a trace for the second time in Nellie's life. The shock of discovering that Nellie had lied to him about the fact that Lucy, the love of Benjamin's life hadn't actually died had obviously been far too much for the barber to handle. She never said that she died but she never said that she had lived either. All Nellie ever wanted to do was protect Sweeney about the fact that Lucy suffered a fate worse than death. Besides, it was Benjamin that loved Lucy, not Sweeney, No, not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd, his voice echoed through her head as she scooped another spoonful of mince into a bowl like shape made out of pastry.
No one knew exactly why but once again Mrs Lovett's pies were the worst in London. It had happened overnight, everyone just assumed that the disappearance of the barber had something to do with it; they just didn't know how close to the truth they were. They never suspected anything more than the unstable baker Mrs Lovett had feelings for the barber and lost her spark whenever he left. She hardly left her shop anymore, leaving it once a week to get more meat and more pastry for her pies and a small amount of food for her to eat.
A small sigh escaped her soft lips as her eyes wandered towards to roof of her shop, towards the empty barber shop. There was no point in denying it, she missed him, she missed him with every muscle in her body and now she didn't even have Toby to keep her company.
It had been one year, two months and four days since Sweeney had left her, unconscious on the floor in her own cellar after finding out about Lucy. When she finally came to, Sweeney was nowhere to be seen. The last thing she remembered was holding onto him as they danced around the room, holding onto him for dear life before he threw her up against the wall knocking her unconscious. Half the money she had made from her pies missing only evidence that Sweeney ever existed. She was hardly conscious when Toby told her he was leaving yet here she was, over a year later and she could remember what he said perfectly, she could hear his voice perfectly.
I told you I would protect you, that nothing would ev'r harm you. Then you chose 'im over me, he did harm you, he could 'ave killed you. I watched 'im flee, he knew that I knew. I'm sorry ma'am but you've made your choice and now I must make mine. I wish I could turn 'im in but that would get you in trouble but I can't sit 'ere from now on and watch you mourn ov'r him. I'm sorry ma'am.
It didn't matter how many times she heard his voice in her head she couldn't help but hope that one day he would come through the door with that cheery little smile he always wore. With that she gave an involuntary glance at the door. A single tear fell down her left cheek as she finally accepted the fact that neither Sweeney nor Toby would ever walk through that door again, she was going to live the rest of her life alone, reminiscing on thoughts of the past, of a life she could have had. Throwing the rolling pin across the room she turned her back on the kitchen and walked into the parlour, her auburn hair falling out with each step she took. She really was a mess, she knew that, there were days when she wished that he had killed her but this was a worse punishment then death even if the crime just didn't seem fit.
Picking up the gin and a glass off the same table to her left she slumped down on the lounge drinking the alcohol as if it were going out of fashion. Soon a mouthful became a glass, a glass became two and two became a bottle. It was only when she was drunk that some of her old cheerful nature would return but it was always temperamental and most definatly didn't last.
When the bottle was done she stood up, staggering outside, a bad idea, definatly a bad idea but it couldn't do anymore damage to what she was already doing to herself. Holding onto the railing for dear life she made her way up to Sweeney's old room. It was the second time she had been up here since he had left, the first was not long after she came too. She hadn't known where he had gone or if he would ever be back but she did know that there was blood all over his shop which had to be cleaned up and Mrs Lovett was the only one around to do it.
Standing at the doorway now, looking around the empty shop, noticing something that she hadn't noticed the first time she came up. There, with the moonlight shinning pricelessly off them, sat one Sweeney's razors, his friend. A small, reluctant, drunken sigh escaped her soft lips as she shut the door behind her and walked straight over to them. This piece of metal had meant more to the man then she ever could have. After all, after all she had done for him he had left her on the floor in her own cellar while his razors went with him, all but this one who sat, open in front of a picture smudged in blood. Even through the blood it was painfully obvious who it was. Lucy and Johanna. Picking up the razor, she held it up against the moonlight, on the perfect angle to see herself in its reflection.
These past few months she hadn't taken much notice of what she looked like, it was only now, in Sweeney's old room that she saw how much of a mess she was. Her hair had nearly completely fallen out, falling down across her far to pale skin. Her eyes were dark from months of falling asleep to a nightmare, always involving him. Her dress was torn and covered in flour, her corset done up far to tightly, at times making it difficult to breathe, she didn't care though. She welcomed death, death would be peaceful, like falling asleep and never waking up only without the constant nightmares of Mr T.
When she couldn't take much more she lowered the razor, keeping a firm hold of it in her hand she did a dizzy kind of spin. The alcohol was really starting to kick in now, she needed to sit down, to sleep it off but that meant making her way back down to her parlour. There was no way she was going to sleep in this room, that would definatly only fuel the nightmares. Unconsciously taking the razor with her she made her way back to the door. The street outside was properly dark now, her usually busy surrounds completely still. She resisted the nearly irresistible urge to cry, apart from the few single tears that sometimes escaped she hadn't cried in a long time, it was weakness according to him. It was silly to think that after all these months of alone, there were still little things she wouldn't do simply because of Sweeney.
With the razor in one hand and the railing in the other she tried to make her way down the stairs only to stumble on her second step. If she had been sober she probably would have been able to regain her balance but it was impossible to do so, especially since when she was standing perfectly still the world would spin. She made no attempt to stop herself falling, suddenly very aware of the razor in her left hand. If she died here then so be it. As she fell though she noticed something, or someone, rather strange. He couldn't be here, it was just her drunken mind playing tricks on her. Soon after that she blacked out, it all suddenly becoming too much for her.
She couldn't help notice that the ground was far too soft, that she was far too warm, too comfortable. Sitting up she noticed that she wasn't outside, she was in her room, in her own bed. Her corset had been taken off but she was still wearing the same dress from last night. What had happened last night? She tried to remember, maybe it was just a dream. She remembered falling down the stairs but if that had really happened, how was she here? Probably just another of her nightmares. Slowly, very slowly, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen in desperate need of a glass of water. Extending a pale arm out in front of her to open the door she noticed a rather large, purple-ish bruise starting to form on her right arm. Wincing slightly at the movement she became more and more confused.
Walking into the shop to find something to drink her eyes glanced over to the bench where, funnily enough next to her rolling pin sat one of Sweeney's razors. She stood there, looking at it for a moment as if half expecting everything to click into place before sighing and pulling out a glace from the cupboard. She would have to sort out this weirdness later, when she had cleaned herself up.
As she brung the glass up to her lips she heard a person behind her clear their throat. Dropping the glass in surprise she spun around, feeling slightly light headed as she did so. The man smirked slightly as her reaction as he set his own glass down on the table and stood up, slowly making his way over to her. Nellie stood there, watching him, her eyes never leaving him as he took small steps towards the stunned woman. She was still dreaming, she had to be, there was no other explanation for it, well she could have died but it seemed unlikely.
When she finally found her voice, sound came out in more of a cracked whisper then anything intelligible. "Mr, Mr, Mr T?" she asked slowly as she took a few small steps of her own towards the man who simply nodded. They were mere centimetres away from each other now, close enough to smell the gin in his breath, maybe it was hers, she wasn't quite sure. Slowly things began to click into place, you could see the sudden understanding light up in her, now usually dead eyes. "It was... You." she said slowly looking up at him. Sweeney's smirk grew as he put his hand on her shoulder.
"Sit down, pet." he said slowly, ignoring what she said as he motioned for her to sit where he was before. Her mind reminded her that this was the man that used to hold his razor up against her throat if he was in one of his moods again and left her in the cellar but her heart didn't listen to any of that. It was him, Sweeney Todd, he was back and even if he was to kill her then maybe then she would be at peace but it seemed highly unlikely. Nodding ever so slightly she started walking towards the booth, fully aware of his warm hand on her shoulder as she did so.