A.N. Wahahaha! Hello! XD Sorry, i'm going to send myself right back into my pathetic stupor if I keep posting stories on here, but eh, i'll get over it.

Anywhoo! This is just an alternate ending to Sweeney Todd, something i've been mulling over for a while. (I just realized a couple of minutes ago i never put a Sweenett or Toddett thingy on my stories, and that's all that they are!) I hope it doesn't get alil confusing anywhere- you know, the little things us writers worry over when sharing. And...I'm pretty sure this is a 'Sweenett,' but I'm also pretty sure it's a...Sweency? XDD Idk, Sweeney/Lucy, if no one got that, which probably no one did.

So...Yep...Enjoy! - Gillies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd ~le sigh,~ movie nor musical. All rights go to Tim Burton and Stephen Sondheim.

She knew what was coming- what was to happen- but still, with a venal, trusting smile, Nellie stepped into his twitching arms for one last, triumpant waltz. She deserved this-this deceit of the worst kind. She didn't resist as he twirled her closer and closer to the leaping flames and her ironic death, the light and the heat casted from the inferno of the oven making it look as if they were the damned, dancing gleefully through hell.

She deserved this. After all the irreversable pain Nellie had caused him she couldn't live any longer than these deadly, wonderfulmoments with him, without being ever tormented by his cry of anguish when he had seen what he had done to his wife- when he realized what the baker had done to him.

Nellie stared up at him with a naïve smile, letting him soak up the false satisfaction of out-smarting her.

But her blissful eyes were true.

Nellie knew what was coming, and she let it happen.

He needed this, and just like very thing else, she'd give it to him without a second thought. Her death was no exception to her love.

And he needed this.

She deserved this...

Finally, she watched his face shift and contort, felt his grip tighten- and she drew in a quick, prepping breath when he shoved her forward. The fires of her sins were already burning her from the inside out; acceptance and her fully devotedness to him forcing her heart to hold together as the one she had always put first threw her into a thundering hell-pit.

And it hurt. Oh God,it hurt.

And she screamed.

He needed her to scream, needed her to acknowledge the searing, flesh-ripping pain that clamped over her entirety like dead-weight. He wanted her to suffer. She knew he did.

Her vision turned black; her skin dripped off onto the pie racks to sizzle and spit; her muscles tore off her bones and twisted in the red; her blood bubbled inside of her before it leaked out burning and ignited whatever skin she might have had left, with the pain that curled around her brain; she tried to concentrate on the darkness as her demons wrapped around her tearing legs, climbing and clawing and biting and pulling and hooking and- singing.

She would have cried if it weren't so bloody hot- if the fire hadn't already turned her eyes to shriveled up chunks of coal.

Her legs lashed and jerked once more, and she tried feebly to escape the hurt- but then it all went silent.

The only sound in the bakehouse was the hissing and the rumble of the glowing inferno.

He was on the ground, his hands crushing his ears in, knuckles and face white. He heard her death, and it wasn't all that nice. He didn't like it- but she deserved it. Once the pulsing heat of her departure was too much for him to stand against, he crawled over to his wife's cold body, her mangled neck lulled at an awkward position that jutted his mistake right into his face.

He cradled Lucy, whispering down to her in a loving, apologentic tone. He couldn't help it- how could he? He did this, he had hurt Lucy- he killed Lucy! Even though he knew 'I'm so sorry' wasn't going to change anything, wasn't going to bring his dear love back, he didn't seem to have the energy to care anymore.

And she was beautiful- still. Lucy was still.

What had he done?

It was her fault.

She did this.

She deserved what she got. She got what she deserved. She deserved it.

...Didn't she?

A.N. I just want to make sure no one gets the impression that Sweeney survives that little adventure in the bakehouse, because he doesn't. Mostly, he pretty much let Toby jack his throat up because our darling Demon Barber was having second thoughts XDD Okay? Okay! -Gillies.