A/N: Sweeney Todd fic, the Tim Burton/Johnny Depp/ Helena Bonham Carter version. I own nothing, and make no profit, etc. Very short, and rated T for murder and thoughts of suicide. Read and review to receive a basket of flowers in your imagination!

I lift her into my arms, horrified.

"Don't I know you, she said… you knew she lived."

I barely heard her replies.

"You lied to me. Lucy… oh, my Lucy, my girl… what have I done?"

I turn to her – demon, devil, killed my wife – already plotting. Work on the fly.

I dance with her, sing to her. Waltzing her to her death.

She screams. I slam the door and ignore her. Slide the grate across the little window automatically.

Forgetting her, I go back to my wife. Gone. Dead and lost to me. Little chance of meeting her in the next life, I should think. She was too good for the likes of me.

"There was a barber and his wife… and she was beautiful…"

I know my razor is somewhere on the floor. I'm past caring. I hear the grate in the floor move, and I presume that's Toby retuning. Good boy. Find the razor on the floor. Walk behind me, that's it.

At least I shall die in her arms…

It's only what I deserve…

I tilt my head back.

May as well make it easy for him.