So, here it is something new for me (not just the usual Nick&Greg cuteness), i saw Sweeny Todd the other day and thought it was brilliant. And i needed to write a Fic, this one is going to take me a while though so hang in there!
A solitary man walked through the dark streets of London late one night. He walked quickly, he did not want to get caught in the wrong part of town. He was going to visit a friend, a woman friend. A friend his fiance did not know he had. There was nothing going on between himself and the woman, or rather he thought there was nothing going on, there were times in the nights they spent together that he did not remember. Long stretches, he thought with a shudder, the last thing he wanted to be was unfaithful. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt anyone.
Somewhere nearby a solitary man paced the floor of his shop. He could not sleep, he could never sleep. Thoughts and painful memories swirled through his brain and haunted him. They possessed his mind and drove him mad. He paced to his dresser and rested there for a moment. He leaned his full weight against it and let the sturdy wood bear his load. Suddenly he lost control, he violently swept the items on the top of his dresser to the floor with a vicious growl. He stood up, and drew himself to his full height. He looked down at the items on the floor, a gold picture frame held his gaze. Then just as suddenly as the rage was brought upon him there was grief, he broke down into sobs and collapsed to the floor.
Below the shop of the madman a woman watched a young boy sleep. She did not startle when she heard the crash from above, she merely let out a small sigh and shook her head. The boy stirred slightly at the noise. With another sigh and a sad smile she looked at the boy. He was her salvation,her Godsend. At the same time it hurt her to see him, this was no way to raise a child. So close, I am so close, she thought, if only I could get him to listen to reason. If only she could get the madman she loved to realize he had everything he wanted at his fingertips. He could have a family again. They would move somewhere far from London. Somewhere warm, away from the darkness and the smell, away from the death and the demons.
In a small room above a dark bar a young woman lay awake. She lay waiting for a knock, the knock that meant that one of them was back. She prayed it would be her angel of mercy, the kind gentle man who would make her feel human. The man with the soft eyes that said so much. There was still the looming fear that it was the other man. She did not know how he knew she was alone, time after time he came when she was expecting salvation. He was dark and cruel and cared for no one. She closed her eyes in a wordless plea to whatever was out there listening that this time the strange dark man would not come, only her kind doctor.