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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 years

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See You Very Soon

Panic arises between Father Paul and you once you learn the dioceses could transfer him elsewhere. Established relationship. This might be one of most (if not the most) angstiest pieces I’ve ever written (if you can even call it that). A happy ending and lots of comfort is a must. Enjoy <3

See You Very Soon - 4K

tw: slight angst, crying, suggestive themes (mentioned)

Father Paul Hill was usually able to keep his cool where other people would lose their minds. This was important in his line of work as a priest. He needed to be calm, patient, compassionate and always kind. And to everyone on Crockett Island he was just that. However, now there was a storm of emotions swelling within him, like a hurricane they shook him and made his carefully built up calmness crack and crumble. His palms were sweating and a slight dizziness began setting in his head. He knocked upon the wood of your front door and waited.

Having a secret relationship with the local priest was just that - very much a secret. There was some thrill to it, quiet kisses stolen on the beach or in the woods, tender soft words spoken in the silence of Saint Patrick's, lustful moments spent wherever you wouldn't get caught - and occasionally somewhere where getting caught was a real danger. The secrecy of it wasn't that hard to bear, because two people actually did know; your best friend Erin and, to some extent, Riley Flynn. Erin hadn't told him, you knew as much, one day Father Paul casually mentioned that Riley knew. And that he was particularly sassy about it during one of the meetings Joe didn't attend, poking fun at the priest, yet promising to keep the secret. All in all, the relationship was mature, filled with mutual love and respect and built upon a strong base of trust, honesty, understanding and friendship. You were absolutely able to imagine yourself spending the rest of your life by this man's side, helping to guide him and let him guide you. Even though it meant that you would forever need to remain a secret. No wedding, no sound of little feet running around. But you held no regrets - all you needed was the priest and his love.

It was a sunny afternoon and your windows were left open to let the crisp sea air in. You smiled when your gaze fell upon your beloved through the window, your heart filling with delight immediately. Your joy was short-lived though. Even at such a distance you could see Father Paul had a worried line between his expressive eyebrows and a sense of urgency about him. You were standing by the door before he reached it and opened it in the blink of an eye after his last knock. He walked past you quickly, deep in thought, apparently, chewing the inside of his cheek as he often did. He still wouldn't look at you and you grew more and more worried by the second. He had that effect, his emotions so deep and overwhelming you found yourself experiencing them with him. You came forward slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. "Paul?" your hands slowly touched his forearms and moved up until settling on his shoulders, "what's wrong, my love?" The priest finally looked at you, his eyes unreadable. "I-I um..." he finally spoke, voice uncertain, "I received a call from the dioceses. The nursing home where Monsignor Pruitt currently resides finally sent them his full examination and final conclusion, which confirms that the Monsignor is no longer able to carry out his duty as a priest."

You listened to him intently, not quite grasping why would that upset him so: "Well, and what does that exactly mean? For you, that is?" Father Paul took a deep breath and seemed to wilt before your very eyes. His eyes lifted again to meet yours: "It means that he's no longer the parish priest of Saint Patrick's. The church will need a new priest... And I was put here as Monsignor Pruitt's substitute while he was recovering. Now, since he's been relieved of his duties, it could mean..." Paul's lip shook and his eyes glistened. You didn't say anything. You couldn't if you tried, really, the implications were strong but unthinkable. "I don't automatically become this parish's priest just because I currently serve here. They have the right to find someone else entirely for the post here. They could make me... leave." Hearing these words made you feel like you were a tower hit by a trebuchet fired stone. You trembled, your hands on his shoulders subconsciously squeezing him so hard your knuckles went white and your eyes spilled. However, you refused to give up. There had to be something you could do! "And..." you swallowed hard, "you don't have a say in it? You can't, I don't know, volunteer?" Paul was now holding you around your waist, hanging onto you like a thread saving him from falling down into the abyss. "O-of course I can apply for the position, but if they really need me someplace else, or they find someone better suited... there is nothing I can do about it." "But there's nobody better suited!" you called out desperately, startling the man, "the people here trust you, they adore you! And they need you! You're their spiritual leader, not some seasonal job hired help!"

You were getting more and more upset, tears streaming down your flushed face like salty rivers and your voice broke with sobs. Paul now embraced you fully and made soft shushing noises in an attempt to calm you down. And after the longest while, during which you cried silently into his strong chest, he succeeded. "W-when... when w-will you be m-meeting them?" you asked, your voice hoarse and shaking. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his cheeks cold and wet from his own tears, yet he spoke steadily, almost monotonically: "Tomorrow. I'm catching the Breeze in the morning. Bev, of course, knows and mass will be cancelled." "I'll come with you," you sniffled meekly, your fingers grabbing at his shirt desperately. "No." he said firmly, startling you a little. He pulled away to look into your eyes, his own were red and puffy. "No," he said again, softer this time, "it's going to be nerve wracking enough... I don't want to put you through it too. Stay here and try not to think about it. If there's anything I truly hate, it's knowing that you're sad." He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb.

You lifted your face and held his own in your hands. You tried to tell him everything you felt for him with your eyes and he seemed to understand, for his lips suddenly captured yours in a hungry kiss. The kiss said what words could never properly formulate, the deepest, most basic and carnal feelings that bound you two together. You made love the entire night, desperate in your movements, as if it was to be the last time, as if trying to take absolutely everything the other had to offer.

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone and his side of the bed was cold. Your eyes still stung from crying, which you did all throughout your lovemaking, sorrowful tears mixed with heavenly pleasure and burning love. It was only 7 o'clock. You sat up in your bed and fisted the sheets in frustration. Finally, you got up and quickly began dressing yourself, determined to make it to the harbour before Sea Breeze sailed towards the mainland. The morning was rather cold and you foregone putting a jacket on in your hurry, but no chill could reach you. You ran as fast as your own feet would take you, the gravel crackling underneath with each step. Finally you saw the piers, the various fishing boats, big and small and in the centre of them was Breeze, its engine rumbling and with people climbing aboard. One of them was a tall man with jet black hair and he was currently talking to Sturge in front of the ferry. "Paul!" you called , voice still hoarse. His head snapped to you and you could see him gesticulating at the bearded man before he swiftly ran to where you stood. Instinctively, you ducked behind some tall crates and waited for him.

"What are you doing?" asked Paul when he joined you there, "I told you I’d rather you stayed here." Having stopped running, you suddenly felt cold and crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve your body's heat: "I know and I will, but... y-you didn't even say goodbye." Paul hurriedly took off his jacket to drape it over your bare shoulders. "I couldn't," he admitted then, "the idea of saying goodbye to you considering the situation... I just couldn't." You touched his cool cheek with your hand. "Let's not say 'goodbye' then. Let's just say...'' you thought for a bit, "let's say 'see you soon'. 'See you very soon'." The priest swallowed and closed his eyes, nodding once. You returned his jacket and kissed him deeply. "Uh, Father Paul!" sounded a loud voice, making the two of you part immediately. "Father, we need to go, the ferry should have left five minutes ago!" Your lover gave you one final look, making you feel absolutely seen in every aspect of your existence. "See you very soon."

---

You walked back towards your home slowly, and despite shaking like a leaf from the cold, you took the longer route, through the wooded areas. What was to become of you if the dioceses truly decided to send Paul away. What would you do? You could follow him; but that would mean leaving this island, maybe forever. Leaving the people you grew so fond of, and leaving Erin of all people! How could you ever do that to her? And what if you did follow Paul and you turned up in some community of Bev-like fanatics with eyes everywhere. If they put two and two together, with their new pastor spending suspicious amounts of time with a newcomer young woman, it could ruin him. It could wreck his entire career as God's servant. And you couldn't do that to him either, you could never. Yes, he was breaking his celibacy vows with you, but he was otherwise made to be a priest and he fulfilled his duties masterfully. There were folks who observed themselves as broken beyond repair, doomed to forever live in despair. They weren't like that to Father Paul Hill. To him, nobody was beyond repair, nobody was doomed, and everybody deserved his help if they asked for it. He was an amazing person who went out of his way to help people, and part of the reason he was able to do that was his position as a spiritual leader. If you rid the world of that, if you rid him of that, you'd never be able to forgive yourself.

What if you stayed and he left? Would that mean your entire relationship was over? Or would you attempt to keep it long-distance? How often would you be able to visit him, once a week? A fortnight? Once a month? What if he was moved to the other end of the country? Writing paid well, but not nearly well enough for you to be able to afford tickets across the whole of the USA every week. What if - and you froze in your tracks - what if he met someone? What if he met someone... better than you? Some prettier, smarter girl who'd steal his heart... The idea made weakness rush through you and you sat down upon a nearby boulder, hugging yourself tighter. So cold. Another thought occurred to you, one that made you feel sick with yourself. Because if Paul really did leave and found someone better, you wouldn't be able to be happy for him. No, you hated yourself for it, you felt incredibly selfish, but you wouldn't be able to be happy for him, even if he was happy. At least for a while... For a long while, all you would feel would be agony and jealousy and rage.

You started crying again, sobbing into your cold hands and leaning your forehead against your knees. "Oh dear, what are you doing here, dressed like that?!" came a voice from somewhere to you left, "you're going to catch your death!" You looked for the source of the voice and found Annie. She was merely 15 metres away and walking swiftly towards you. "Oh, oh dear," she said once more, her kind voice filled with worry as she saw your tear-stained cheeks. She approached closer and got to her knee in front of you, putting her warm hands on your knees in a very motherly way: "Get up, sweetie, we need to get you someplace warm." You didn't know why you immediately obeyed, why it didn't even occur to you to protest. It was probably the feeling of maternal safety you got whenever you were in Annie's presence. You got up from the cold boulder, letting the older woman wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you to her home.

---

"I heard your stay on Crockett Island was quite fruitful. Steady growth in attendees of daily and Sunday masses, and the Easter vigil was apparently a big success," Bishop Theodore listed, observing a few pages in front of him, "you also began an AA program, from what I'm told." "Yes," Paul replied. Ever since he parted ways with you, his legs felt unsteady and he was more nervous than he ever was before. Now especially, since the conversation reached the subject of his illness some time ago, and he had to explain that you were a dear friend of his who helped him a lot after he first came on the island. Seeing as you were very much a newcomer too. The bishop accepted this answer without another word. "Now," he put the papers back into a simple thin manilla folder, "there is a church in northern Massachusetts which recently lost their pastor to old age. It's a bigger town and I think you'd do very well there... However, I'd like to ask about your opinion as well. You seemed rather unwell ever since you stepped over the threshold." The younger priest blinked and fiddled with his hands in his lap.

"Yes, I'd... is there any chance I'd be able to remain on Crockett Island?" he asked, finally looking directly at Theodore. "Stay on Crockett?" the older man asked, surprised, "but it's such a small place, with so few people. To be quite honest, I half expected to find a priest here who would only venture there to serve Sunday mass. Why would you want to stay there? In Massachusetts, you could grow as a priest, maybe you could even become a bishop yourself, someday." Father Paul swallowed and took a deep breath: "I know. But... that's not what I want. I've grown... used to Crockett Island and I can't just leave the people. They became my neighbours and friends. They were used to having Monsignor Pruitt there everyday, not only on Sunday, he was their spiritual leader for, what, 50 years? And they got used to me too, now," he leaned forward on his chair to rest his elbows on his thighs, "I still have responsibilities to them. I have to continue leading them in Christ, I have to carry on with the AA program. I need to be available to them when they need me. It's my duty not only as a priest, but also as a good Christian."

The bishop looked at him with his baby blue bespeckled eyes, observing the young pastor curiously. "Please, Excellency," Paul looked up and held his gaze, "let me stay on Crockett Island." There was silence, disturbed only by the steady ticking of a massive grandfather clock. Paul could have screamed, and he could've begged and he'd probably give anything to be able to escape his superior's piercing gaze. But then, in a moment which engraved itself into Paul's memory forever, the older man smiled warmly at him. "Very well then," he said only, "if you really do wish to take on the full responsibility of being this parish's priest permanently, so be it. We'll have to go over a few things then, though." A mountain fell from Father Paul Hill's shoulders.

---

You sat at the Flynn family home, a warm knitted blanket resting over your shoulders and a cup of hot tea in your still cold hands. You felt incredibly stupid, but also strangely numb. Annie sat opposite of you, looking at you questioningly, but not prying. Only when she realised you wouldn't spill your beans on your own did she finally speak: "Is this about Father Paul, dear?" Your eyes widened in shock and you almost heard a record scratch in your head. "What," you said eloquently. "Oh you know, are you having problems? Did you have an argument, maybe?" You couldn't believe your own ears. Annie Flynn (whom you definitely haven't told of your relationship with the local priest) was casually asking whether the two of you had a domestic. Still, you tried to deny: "I-I don't really know what you're talking about, Annie." The woman just chuckled and rolled her eyes, as if this entire situation was just one big joke and you were being cheeky with her. "Oh, come now, sweetie!" Your cheeks took on a light shade of crimson and you suddenly felt too hot.

"Father Paul and I, we are-.... we're fond of each other." you said quietly, as if the entire Island could hear you, "and the fondness goes beyond friendship." You were terrified of looking at Annie and seeing her disappointed face, you were so afraid of what she's going to tell you. But instead of some deeply disapproving retort or maybe even an insult, a gentle hand landed under your chin instead, lifting it. There was no disappointed look on Annie's beautiful face, there was no frown, no knitted eyebrows. Instead, Annie Flynn was smiling at you, comfortingly, warmly. Your rapid heartbeat slowed down and your black thoughts started to dissolve like salt in hot water. Saint of a woman, she was. "I know," Annie said only. You still questioned her with your gaze, wanting to know how she found out. She chuckled again and stroked your cheek: "I had my suspicions for a while. I only knew for sure a week ago." You searched through your brain for any moment spent with Annie in the last week when you might've let something slip. "I went to meet Ed for lunch. He was on his own for the day, so we figured we could make it a little romantic. And then I pass this small hidden beach and what do I see? Someone's already being romantic here!"

"Oh my goodness..." you let your head fall into your hands. You knew exactly what Annie was talking about. Back then, you and Paul agreed that Sex On a Beach was a fine drink and a great thing, but not quite in broad delight, and most definitely not without at least a picnic blanket, lest you brink the Beach back home with you. And thank god for that, because it meant you and Father Paul were merely engaging in languid snogging right when Annie must have accidentally seen you. She actually laughed at your horror-stricken face. "How- how can you be so fine with this? I mean, you're basically a saint, and I... He's a priest, and h-his vows... I thought you'd be angry with me."

The older woman shook her head: "These things happen, (F/N), way more often than you'd think. When I was young there was a rumour that even Monsignor Pruitt... well, anyway, it doesn't change anything. You're both lovely people and you've got a lot in common. And even though he's a clergyman, the two of you are still very much humans. He's still a wonderful pastor who does his work dutifully, and you're still a dear friend who's always ready to offer a helping hand, and I'm not judging either of you. It's a happiness that harms no one." You listened to Annie's kind voice, feeling more and more at ease with every word. Still: "But it's a sin." "Perhaps," she admitted, "everybody sins. I too sin. So does my husband and my boys. And the entire island. If your greatest sin is love for another person, I think god might just be willing to turn a blind eye to it."

You couldn't help it, you had to grin. But as you sat with her in silence, the dark fear of losing Father Paul came back. "But I'm afraid I'll lose him," you conceded, "I'm afraid they'll send him to another parish, far away, and I won't be able to follow." "Is that why you were crying earlier, dear?" You didn't answer immediately. "It's just... I've had a few...boyfriends over the years, but I feel like what I felt for them wasn't a thousandth of what I feel for Paul. I was very fond of them, but I've never been so utterly terrified of losing them." Annie smiled but said no more.

---

You spent the entire day at the Flynn house, helping Annie with various household chores, aiding her in preparation of dinner. Warren came home from school, then disappeared for some time again, presumably with his friends. Or maybe Leeza. Ed, Riley and Erin also joined you. Right when almost everyone sat down at the dinner table, there came a knock from the door. Seeing as you were the only one still standing, you went to answer. Your eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Father Paul Hill. "Hi. How did you know where I am?" you asked softly and joined him outside, closing the door behind you. "Annie sent me a text," he explained, patting the pocket of his jacket which contained his phone. "Can we talk?" he asked and took a hold of your hand. You let him lead you by the side of the house, away from the streetlight and into the dark backyard of Annie and Ed's home. He sat down with you then, so you were facing the sea, not letting go of your hand for a single moment. "So... how did it go?" you asked, uncertain once more, but trying to make your voice sound neutral. "Bad," replied the priest in a strange voice, "horrible, really. (F/N), Angel, prepare for the worst." Your heart sank and you felt fresh tears already fighting their way out.

"Oh god, Paul!" you sighed shakily, but didn't manage to get another word out, because: "Yes, it seems you won't be getting rid of me after all, and this time it's permanent." You gasped and stared at him in utter bewilderment. You recovered quickly though: "You! Utter! Git!" you punctuated each word with a light slap to his chest. He had the absolute audacity to giggle, and while it was a beautiful sound to hear, you weren't quite ready to forgive him just yet. "Don't you dare laugh at me, I was bloody terrified!" You stopped hitting him and instead left your hands on his chest and rested your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry," he said quietly, stroking up and down your back. You breathed him in, he smelled like the sea and incense and something that was so uniquely him, and you were getting high on this scent. His hand then ventured up the back of your neck and into your hair, and he gently made you pull away. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." And then Father Paul Hill crashed his lips against yours with reckless abandon, making you moan into the kiss and open your mouth. Your teeth clashed and tongues met, and you held onto your beloved as you let your upper body lean back until it hit the ground. He could only follow and soon he was above you, not having parted from your lips for a single second.

You supposed you could forgive him.

---

"They're kissing," said Ed, covertly peeking out of the window. "Yeah," replied Warren in between bites, "they do that a lot." His family turned to face him, surprised looks on their faces. "How would you know?" asked Annie, who was surprised the only member of her family who genuinely had no idea of the relationship between the local priest and you had been her husband. "I can never take Leeza anywhere, they're always in the best spots!" This retort earned him a disapproving look from his father, but an amused chuckle from everyone else.

I hoped you enjoyed reading! As always, you can check this story and the entire series on AO3. I’m a huge sucker for reviews, they always lift my spirits <3

#midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #reader insert #father paul #father paul hill #father paul x reader #father paul x you #father paul hill x reader #annie flynn #warren flynn #ed flynn #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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