Title: Wasted

Summary: Nellie leaves Sweeney two months after they married because he's drunk every day since two days after he killed Turpin. He follows her and asks her forgiveness. Whether she gives it or not is your choice.

A/N: If you want a sequel to this, I'll write one and post it. Or I could just write one anyways and post it (which is probably what I'll do anyways). This is based completely on the Broadway production of the musical, fits just about any pairing that there is that I know of. Anyways, I hope you like the story. Oh, and BTW, this is the first Sweeney Todd fic I've written in over a year, which is weird for me b/c I was obsessed with Sweeney for, like, four months and I'm a musical theater fanatic anyways, so it's a big thing when I don't write for a genre in months when I have before (like Sweeney). Anyways, enjoy!

She'd had it. His revenge was had, and now he'd taken to drinking. She'd had it with his drinking, his tempers, his hangovers. She couldn't take it anymore. How she wanted to stay with him and try to change him, but she knew that she couldn't, knew that he wouldn't want to anyways. He wouldn't stop drinking because he wanted his Lucy back. He wanted his Johanna back He was only with her because she kept them in their house, kept them from begging for money.

Although there was a note on the table, she almost turned around and stayed, but it would be like reversing the fall of rain, reversing nature. But she didn't. She stepped out of the house and started walking, walking away from the life she had dreamed of for so long, the life she finally had, the life they could have together. She knew that if she didn't leave, she'd wake up old and gray-haired and realize she'd wasted so much of her life wishing for something that would never happen.

He'd been hurt when he'd realized she'd left him and the life they had together. He'd finished a bottle and a half of whiskey before he realized that the pain of her leaving still hadn't subsided. He stumbled to the sink and poured the rest of the glass and the bottle down the drain. He realized that he can't keep living for yesterday, for the life that he had before he'd been transported, the life he'd had before she'd left him. He stumbled through the front door and followed her back to her shop, knowing that that's where he'd find her. He kept glancing down at the note in his hand, the last thing she'd said to him, praying she wouldn't get killed, that he wouldn't get killed either.

It was dusk when Nellie reached the shop. She sat down in the parlor and held her head in her hands, crying. She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She'd just walked out on her husband of two months. If he killed himself because of it, it would be her fault and she'd just follow him with her own suicide. The bell above the shop door rang and she heard footsteps coming towards the parlor, but for the first time in years, she didn't care.

He knew she'd be in the parlor. He knew that he'd have a hangover soon, but for the first time since he'd started drinking, he didn't care. He looked in the mirror or a minute at his reflection and saw his eyes were finally clear. When was the last time they had been? He finally looked over at his wife and softly said, "Nellie? I'm sorry for all the drinkin'. I won't do it again."

She looked up at him, at his eyes, and gasped. "Yer eyes, Mista T. They're clear."

"I swear on my life, Nellie. I won't start drinkin' again."

"How do I know ya won' do it again?"

"You'll be there to help me."