Second Chances
I wish it was mine.


The thing he wanted more than anything was a second chance. A second chance with his poor, sweet Lucy. To once again gaze upon her silky, flaxen hair, those crystal blue eyes, that soft, porcelain skin. He wanted nothing more than to share the briefest of moments with her. Just a minute, so he could remember her as she was those (many) years ago. So full of life, so virtuous. So beautiful.

Now, no matter how hard he tried, he could not conjure that memory. When he imagined her now she was… different. Her skin was grey and listless, her hair soiled and ashen, and those once sparkling eyes were now empty and lifeless. And there was always a tiny bottle clutched tightly in her grasp, the vile, toxic liquid her only solace from the world and its cruelties.

He tried to remember her the way she used to be. He knew she was beautiful, perfect as an angel, pretty as a rosebud. But somehow he could no longer see it. He hated to think of her the way he did now, hated to think that a once vibrant young woman could succumb to such darkness (the same darkness that he himself had surrendered to). He cringed as he considered how such a doting and devoted mother could abandon her child as she had; how she could forsake the poor, defenseless infant, her only link to the husband she claimed to love.

He shook his head, purging such thoughts from his mind. They had no purpose now, could serve him no use. His Lucy was gone. All that remained was the empty, hollow shell of the woman he had once coveted, desired, loved.

And as he stared through the peephole, carefully hidden behind a precariously placed painting on the other side of the bedroom door, he saw what he wanted more than anything else.

Judge Turpin saw his second chance.


A/N: So I know Turpin isn't exactly the most sympathetic of characters, but I really do believe that in his own twisted way, he loved Lucy, and that in an even more twisted (and pedophilic) way, he loves Johanna as well. Even evil men have some humanity in them.