A/N: My final chapter to this story but don't worry I am planning on a lovely little sequel. Judge Turpin POV and there will be adult themes, language, violence and other stuffs.

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Sailor Boy: Part III

He was nowhere to be found. I could just give up searching for the boy but that would be foolish of me. I knew I was in love-more than I ever was. I just never thought I would fall for a sailor quite like Mr. Hope.

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Beadle didn't return to my manor. I walked inside and shut the door letting my back fall into it. I continued my heavy breathing and those rather dirty thoughts flooded my mind without any warning. I couldn't stop the production of them-it was impossible.

I needed to see the child. Trying to recover from my little episode, I enter my study and pull out a bottle of Gin from the desk. Nice bottle of Gin indeed; it was my friend-my best faithful friend when I was in need of a companion. I looked at the clear golden liquid silently, swishing it to and fro, and instead of pulling out a nice glass, I removed the cork and took a sweet relieving gulp. It had a rather strong taste to it and burned on the way down.

Nevertheless it was a great friend.

I sat down in the leather chair behind the desk, leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment or so. How could I believe I had fallen for a child-a young man at that? I never knew I could love another man…not like this.

But it felt nice and felt so wonderful-with a smile and my eyes remaining closed I raised the bottle of Gin: "To me!" and with those few words I took down the last bit of the remaining liquid and fell limp in my chair.

There was a silent knock.

One knock, two knocks and eventually three knocks at his front door. But who could it be at this time of night? The clock shown 11:34 as Turpin could see. He sat erect in his chair gripping tight to the leather arms. A fourth knock followed the third just moments later.

He just had to answer it-his heart was meaning to but he could not move himself free from his chair. It was like he was strapped or restrained to the chair. It angered him and he fussed beneath the invisible bindings. He eventually cursed and got himself free but his body ached and he fell over to his knees. What was the meaning of this? He didn't understand.

Was this what love felt like-true love?

Whatever it was to be he hated it with a passion. "Damnit!" he let out another one of his naughty words and attempted to lift himself up and there he was-standing there before him. He saw the tips of his muddy shoes and the bottom of his trousers. "My lord, are you alright?" his voice rang in his ears; he missed that sound. He missed listening to his sweet voice.

Turpin groaned silently and took a look to his right and then his left. It was all grey and very chillingly suspenseful. He didn't like the feel of this room anymore. What was going on…where was the manor, where was the shelves full of wonderful books. Where was anything?

Standing up carefully, Turpin saw the boy. His blue eyes tearful, his lips smeared in red and his blond locks matted with blood and cold rain.

He furrowed his brows and reached out to Mr. Hope, and felt him for what felt like the first time. "My dear boy…he brushed a rough thumb over Anthony's cold, pale cheek that seemed to be covered in nothing but bruises. Right then and there, the manor slowly came back into view and the warmth returned with it. Then Bamford came to mind—he had done this to him. He harmed his love…but he, Judge Turpin let it happen. He was angry at Anthony; angry at him for not returning his love. He gave into the anger and the rage.

"My sweet boy" Turpin whispered to the young boy who seemed rather frightened by the look in his eyes. Turpin could see that but he moved closer toward the boy; his emotions and thoughts getting the better of him.

"I am not here to harm you…he leaned in even closer and before he knew it, the child struck him in the gut with a dirty blade and pulled it back out. Turpin shook as he looked down to see the bloody mess. His hands fled the boy and grabbed his fresh wound.

His stomach hurt with great pain and he knew he couldn't stand much longer. "God…he fell hard to his back and gazed up at the ceiling. His hands remained at the wound, blood seeping through his gorgeous attire and staining his hands. It also began to fill the air of its horrid stench. How did this happen, why did this happen?

Was this love…Turpin couldn't stand it. The tall figure of Mr. Hope stared down at the dying man. His eyes were a cold grey and his lips were carved into the most horrible smile ever known.

He looked at the boy one last time before groaning in pain and shutting his eyes for a few seconds. "You took her from me, Judge Turpin." The young man bellowed, standing right above the older fellow with the bloody knife still in his hand.

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The air smelled of death now and world around him fell into a whirl. He was dying and slowly. His body was going numb and his vision was failing.

The boy dropped the knife with a loud, deafening sound and he fled to the nearest corner of the room. He stabbed a man-and not just any man. The most loved and respected Judge Turpin.

"No-no…was all that he heard before falling still in his very own puddle of blood.

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"NO!" I screamed, my lungs burning raw from the intensity of it. My heart was beating terribly and my forehead had become covered in a cold sweat.

I couldn't swallow. My throat was too dry.

It was only just a dream…a dream that seemed to real-to true. Maybe this was what love felt like. What true love felt like and it cut! It hurt and it cut. Love is like a knife!

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E/N: Well there you have it. It's the final chapter but never the last. I am making a sequel so don't be upset! And there is still more Toby/Sweeney to be also!