Newly cooked news from the madhouse: I made a beta-reader profile, I feel accomplished 8DDDD

This one, like "Helena" at the very beginning, is a little AU, because the beginning is normal-ish but then Sweeney gets sick – which never happened in the movie, but you could read it as a prelude to the "Helena" one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd, it belongs to the dust monsters from Mars. Wait, that isn't right…

2nd Disclaimer: I love writing two disclaimers and annoying you =) My Chemical Romance's songs belong to Gerard and Mikey's cousin's stepfather's niece's half-brother's therapist. I think.

………

The evening church service was something Mrs Lovett wasn't particularly fond of attending, but she had to keep up regular appearances at church for fear of what people might say, and on this particular occasion she dragged Sweeney along with her, who came under protest.

It was darkening outside, the sky a bruised purple, but the sun hadn't quite set.

Wait until it fades to black. Ride into the sunset.

As she walked along the cobbled street she heard Sweeney muttering profanities under his breath, and scowled at him.

"It won't be that bad, love," she reassured him, though she knew it would be every bit as bad as he thought.

Would I lie to you?

He opened his mouth, then thought better of it and shut it.

Well I've got something to say.

As a tall cloaked man brushed by him in the street, Nellie saw Sweeney's hand flit to his holster where one or more of his friends were always attached, and his head turn to glare at the man walking down Fleet Street.

Grab your six-pack from your back, throttle the ignition.

Mrs Lovett rolled her eyes. Sweeney had an unstable temper, but she was willing to bet that if she was ever threatened he'd just stand idly by.

Would I die for you? Well here's your answer in spades.

Sweeney Todd hated going outside for any reason, and since he'd long ceased to believe in God he didn't see any reason why he should be dragged to church. The multitudes of people out amazed him, and for a moment he thought he saw them as demons like in paintings of Hell, grotesque and repulsive.

He shook his head. It was insomnia's fault – the lack of sleep was making him hallucinate. He wouldn't be surprised if he'd seen people's true form, though.

Shotgun sinners, wild eyed jokers.

Mrs Lovett lost sight of him momentarily in the crowd, but just as he was about to make a desperate bid for freedom she grabbed his arm and pulled him on down the road.

Got you in my sights.

He noticed as they made their way down the street that there was an alarmingly large proportion of prostitutes lining the road. Sweeney got the shock of his life when what he thought was part of the general muck stirred and revealed itself to be a filthy beggar woman.

After all is said and done, climb out from the pine box.

She raised her gleaming eyes, spotted him, and grabbed his leg, attempting to make him stop.

"You," she babbled. "I seen you before. You're stayin' where it's 'aunted… stay away!"

Sweeney regarded the woman with a mixture of horror and disgust, then turned to Mrs Lovett, who had gone a pasty colour and looked as if she was going to be sick.

"Who is she?" he asked. "And why is she…" he gestured at her hand, which held his leg in a surprisingly strong grip.

She shrugged shakily. "Why you askin' me?"

He sighed. "Because she is obviously mad."

Well I'm asking you, 'cause she's got nothing to say.

The beggar woman suddenly released her grip and slumped back, staring vacantly into space. Sweeney leaned forward, curiously.

"Who are you?" She didn't answer, unable to speak.

The angels just cut out her tongue. Call her Black Mariah.

Mrs Lovett gently pulled him away. "No use talkin' to that one, love. She's crazy as they get, probably don't even know what she's sayin'," she murmured. Although he wanted to investigate further, Sweeney let Mrs Lovett steer him away from the beggar.

Would I lie to you? That girl's not right in the brain.

The church was awful, pretentious and overblown. The pews were hard wood and unbearably uncomfortable. Restless, Sweeney glanced towards the warbling choir, who only sounded impressive because of the arched ceiling that reverberated their "singing", and wished they'd all drop dead.

Mass convulsions strike the choir, by the grace of God.

***

"I blame you," he said, glaring at Mrs Lovett.

She scowled. "Exactly 'ow is this my fault?"

"If you hadn't dragged me off on that fucking trip to the fucking church—"

"You don't get typhoid from bein' outside, love!"

"I told you I had a fucking headache, didn't I? And now I feel even WORSE! Probably got infected from that bloody madwoman…"

She looked murderous. "Can't you anythin' except complain?" she said quietly. "Maybe you're gonna die, but you'll be—" she choked back a sob, "—dead an' in the ground, an' I'll 'ave to live with knowin' all you did before you died was scream at me."

Sweeney fixed her with an angry look – but he wasn't angry with her any more.

"What a way to die," he muttered. "I haven't even done what I wanted to…" He trailed off miserably as he thought of his poor caged Johanna whom he could never save now.

Mrs Lovett patted his arm. "Could be worse. You could be dyin' of cholera."

He shuddered. "My parents died of that. Don't remind me."

She lowered her eyes, and Sweeney saw they glistened with tears. "Jus' don't know what I'm gonna do without you, Mr T."

But don't stop if I fall, and don't look back.

He wished he could tell her that it would be all right, but they both knew from now on he'd only get worse.

"Live on." He wasn't aware he'd said it out loud, but Nellie's head snapped back towards him. He stared back at her.

She would be all right. She was a survivor, was Nellie Lovett.

Oh baby don't stop, bury me and fade to black.

***

The sickness worsened as the days dragged on. In the second and third weeks of his illness Sweeney's fever was so bad he was in a constant state of delirium. He felt trapped in a permanent nightmare, but to Nellie he mostly just lay there prostrate, feverish but calm. Occasionally he seemed to surface and became agitated, but she still had a lot of time where she would just sit there, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

She'd spent a long time thinking about what she was going to do after he was… gone… She could have spent her life mourning him, but she was practical by nature, and also knew Sweeney would want her to carry on – he'd said as much to her.

But don't stop if I fall, and don't look back.

One day, nearly a month after that awful day at the church, Nellie was staring miserably at Sweeney's flushed face, when suddenly his dark eyes cracked open, and her heart flipped as she dared to hope that he'd recover.

"Nellie?" It was barely more than a whisper, and she leaned forward.

"I'm 'ere love," she murmured back to him.

The ghost of a smile twitched across his lips.

"I'll see you." His eyes gently closed, and he subsided back into the fever. Her heart sank into nothing at that point. He wasn't awake. He never would wake up now.

Sweeney Todd died two hours later, in the middle of a rainy afternoon, and Mrs Lovett gripped his hand like a lifeline to the end, hoping that somehow she could drag him back to her. It didn't work.

She needed to make arrangements for the funeral.

Oh baby don't stop, bury me and fade to black.

………

Song: Hang 'Em High

Reviews: If you dare!

I spent ages trying to find a disease for him to die of. All the diseases in the Victorian era seemed to be children-only, non-fatal, or icky (hey, I wanted Sweeney to be a beautiful corpse!). But I swear, all the sites I looked on pretty much said: "If you lived in the Victorian era you were going to die of typhoid/TB/smallpox/cholera! 8DDDDDDDDDD Or even all four! 8DDDDDDDDDDD" Scary…

Anyway, loves, I hopses you likeses.