A/N- This begins where Sweeney Todd the movie ends. Warning- Spoilers!
"There was a barber and his wife… and she was beautiful. A foolish barber and his wife… and she was beautiful… and she was virtuous… and he was…" Sweeney Todd had heard the footsteps approaching, but he couldn't let go of his dead wife. The smell of burning flesh permeated through the air, a repulsing scent. Sweeney was aware of the presence behind him, and knew the intent of the person. Slowly, without hesitation, he lifted his head, exposing his neck. 'We all deserve to die…' he thought. 'Lucy…' He saw a glint of metal, his knife, his friend, ending it at last. He made no sound as it sliced his neck, just gasped in a final breath before going limp, his blood trickling down and mixing with that of his beloved wife.
Toby stared down at him, his eyes cold and unfeeling. This man had killed so many, had killed Mrs. Lovett… Toby turned and walked away. His mind was oddly blank. He wasn't particularly smart, but at the moment his lack of thought had nothing to do with his intelligence. It was terror, despair, and horror that wiped his mind clean. He climbed up the stairs, they were damp and cold, but he welcomed the cold. Warmth reminded him of the flames that held the remains of a woman he loved, a woman who was like a mother to him, a woman he thought had loved him. But she hadn't loved him, and she was dead. Sweeney had killed her. He wasn't sure why Sweeney did this, though he had hear Sweeney rant about Mrs. Lovett lying, and say something about his wife… Lucy, was it? Toby supposed that Lucy must be the woman, who, even in death, was held so tightly and lovingly by Sweeney. Lucy… in all the time Toby had stayed with them, he had often heard Sweeney mutter this name, along with the names Johanna and Judge Turpin. Toby had never known who Johanna and Lucy were, but he had heard of Judge Turpin. And unless he was mistaken, Judge Turpin was one of the bodies in the bake house. So that only left Johanna. Toby assumed she must be his daughter. He wondered where she was now.
He reached the top of the stairs, and entered the pie shop. There he sat at the table and lay his head on his hands, exhausted. He wanted some gin, anything to clear his mind. His mind was filled with strange, unrelated thoughts, most of them bad. But then again, he didn't really have good memories. His gaze rested on some meat pies on the counter. He gagged with his new knowledge of what the pies really held. People, many, many people, with lives and families and dreams and goals. These people had been killed and baked into pies, and it was Mrs. Lovett's doing. How had he not seen it? He had seen her as a friendly, loving woman, a bit eccentric maybe, but sweet. He had seen her as his rescuer, his protector, his mother. How wrong he had been. He supposed she had never cared about him, had seen him as someone to do work, just as everyone did. The only person she had cared about was Sweeney Todd. The one person in his life who he had thought had loved him, never did. And that's what made him break down.
He didn't cry easily. Sometimes when Pirelli or someone else at the workhouse beat him he would cry, but beatings occurred so frequently that he usually didn't. But he was so overwhelmed, he couldn't hold it in. Just when his life was good, pleasant, enjoyable, this happened and he was thrown back into a living hell. He grabbed the bottle of gin from the shelf and took a swig. Somehow it calmed him, allowed his mind to become less foggy. 'Think.' He instructed himself. 'Be rational. Don't think about Sweeney or… or Mrs. Lovett. I have to think what to do now.' Suddenly, he thought of Mr. Todd's silver knives. He could sell them! Pushing away the fleeting image of his own hand swiping the knife along Sweeney's throat, he congratulated himself for his plan. He knew the knives were upstairs, in Sweeney's unkept and rather musty-smelling barber shop, so he picked himself up- being careful to not look at the human pies resting on the table. He walked to the stairs and began the familiar ascent. He took a deep breath before slowly opening the door. The room was dim, but very clearly he could see the splatters of crimson blood all over the room. He heard a faint gasp, and to his shock he noticed a small figure standing, motionless, in the corner.
The figure pressed himself close to the wall, as though doing so would conceal him. Toby's first panicked and irrational thought was that it was Sweeney Todd, come to get him. He immediately realized this was impossible; Sweeney was dead downstairs. Toby stood still for a moment, and soon his eyes adjusted to the light. The person appeared at first to be a young man, but as the shadowy figure slunk further back, it's hat was knocked off, and long gold hair came tumbling down. Toby realized with a start that it was a girl, only a few years older than him. Upon seeing he was only a young boy, she visibly relaxed. "Who are you?" She asked. Her voice sounded light, like a bell, tinkling and musical. "I'm Toby." He replied. "I used to work for-" His voice broke, and he had to clear his throat. "I used to work for Mrs. Lovett." The girl frowned. "Used to?" Her tone was a mixture of fear and curiosity. "She's dead." He was surprised by how devoid of emotion he sounded. "Sweeney Todd is dead too." The girl shuddered. "I glad." She whispered. "I saw him kill a beggar woman, and Judge Turpin." She winced. "I hated Judge Turpin, and the Beadle. I thoroughly believe they both deserve to die. But still, it was such a violent end…" Upon registering her comment about the Beadle, Toby added; "He killed the Beadle, too." Again, her face showed tremendous relief, and she broke out in tears. "It's over!" She sobbed. "They're gone, it's over!" Toby had no idea what she was talking about, and he thought it best not to ask. He changed the subject. "What's your name?" He questioned. She looked up, her face bright and as beautiful as a flower. "Johanna. I'm Johanna."
Toby froze in shock. "No. You're kidding, right?" She shook her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. "No, I'm not kidding. Why, what's wrong?" Toby stared at her, wide eyed.
"Because… I think you're Sweeney Todd's daughter."