Sanders Sides X Reader

Poor Thing

Virgil X Reader
Requested: By the lovely Morgan556 , go give them a follow!
Prompt: Poor Thing by Helena Bonham Carter (Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street)

BOLD IS NARRATION ON TOP OF ACTUAL STORY

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Virgil sat down in the chair and turned to face the standing Roman, "You've a room over the shop here? Times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?" He asked,

"People think it's haunted." Roman replied simply, slowly making his way across the room.

"Haunted?" Virgil repeated, attempting to hide the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. And who's to say they're wrong? You see, years ago... Something happened up there. Something not very nice." Roman took a seat opposite Virgil, staring at him.

"There was a barber and his husband. And he was beautiful, a proper artist with a knife. But they transported him for life. And he was beautiful." Roman said wistfully, "Barker, his name was.
Benjamin Barker."

"What was his crime?" Virgil asked, his voice low as he stared blankly ahead of him.

"Foolishness."

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He had this husband, you see. Pretty little thing, silly little nit. Had his chance for the moon on a string. Poor thing, poor thing.

Y/N carried his son, keeping him close to his shoulder. He paced the room, going back and forth, until he stopped at the window and looked out.

There was this judge, you see. Wanted him like mad. Every day he sent him a flower, but did he come down from his tower?

Y/N shook his head upon spotting the young judge, holding the bouquet up in the air. He subconsciously held his son closer.

Sat up there and sobbed by the hour, poor fool. But there was worse yet to come, poor thing.

Y/N turned and walked away from the window, crying gently at the fate that had taken his husband away from him and their family. He didn't want anything to do with the judge, anything at all.

Later that night, Y/N heard a knock at the door. He hurried to open it and...Well, Beadle calls on him all polite.

Poor thing, poor thing.

"The Judge," he tells him, "is all contrite. He blames himself for your dreadful plight. You must come straight to his house tonight."

Poor thing, poor thing

Of course, when he goes there, poor thing, poor thing, they're having this ball all in masks.

Y/N looked around at the massive hall after he had been granted admission, watching all the ladies and gentlemen dancing to and fro.

There's no one he knows there, poor dear, poor thing. He wanders tormented and drinks, poor thing.

He grabbed a drink off of the tray that was passing him, taking a sip every now and then as he looked for the Judge.

"The Judge has repented." He thought.

Poor thing.

"Oh, where is Judge Turpin?" Y/N asked himself quietly.

He was there all right, only not so contrite

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his wrist and dragged him away. As quick as it happened, Y/N was pinned onto a lounge chair. He struggled and struggled but the Judge easily overpowered him.

He wasn't no match for such craft, you see. And everyone thought it so droll. They figured he had to be daft, you see. So all of them stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul, poor thing.

"No!" Virgil yelled, a mix of disbelief and fury, he stood up and marched to the window and glared down at the passers by, "Would no one, have mercy on him?"

"So, it is you." Roman said softly, standing up himself, "Benjamin Barker?"

"Where is Y/N? Where is my husband?"

"He poisoned himself. Arsenic, from the apothecary down the corner. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me. And he's got your son." Roman said quickly, slowly making his way closer to Virgil.

"He? Judge Turpin?" Virgil asked, his face looking as if the name itself put a bad taste in his mouth.

"Adopted him. Like his own."

Virgil rested his head in his hands, "Fifteen years, I've sweated in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming that I might come home to a husband and child."

"Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker-" Roman went to joke before getting cut off by Virgil.

Virgil shook his head, "No, not Barker. That man is dead. It's Sanders now. Virgil Sanders." He turned to look at Roman dead in the eyes, "And he will have his revenge."