Father Kemble had gone to Middlesbrough to see the bishop, and that left Gabriel responsible for the Sunday Mass. Usually, Kemble only allowed him Saturday night if he didn't feel like doing it, and even then, on the condition Gabriel didn't preach anything radical. It was a redundant concern. There was as little fire left in Gabriel as there was flesh left on his bones or colour in his face; that was to say, very little.

So far he had been facing the baroque altar against the wall, first praying at its foot, then solemnly climbing the steps, his back turned to the congregation on both occasions. Almost all prayers were in Latin and the two servers behind him responded with the appropriate replies. He could dream the words and gestures, but he tried hard to be present and mean what he said and sang.

At last, he turned to the congregation but kept his eyes down, lifted his hands and said: "Dominus vobiscum."

The two boys responded: "Et cum spirito tuo."  

It was a particularly bad cough somewhere in the congregation that caused him to deviate from the rubrics momentarily and look up.

It was his first time back at church, he'd had a lump in his throat as he was prepared to handle each week without the priest he'd known. Of course, he knew it was best he hadn't seen him again, wasn't sure how to face him. When a very familiar figure stepped in and began, he felt frozen in place. The man looked terrible, and his heart reached out to him. He wanted to help him and wondered what had happened. He knew he couldn't ask, but instead he stared. He was certain he wouldn't have been noticed had it not been for the person next to him. He looked at the older woman and offered her a handkerchief. It didn't help with the cough and when he looked back, his eyes met Gabriel's. He knew he should look away, but he was still in shock. He had failed this man in many ways, and still he was one of the best men Elijah believe he had ever met.

[CW: Internalized homophobia]

Gabriel's eyes met Elijah's and he was certain his heart had stopped. A shock went through his body. He couldn't move or pull his eyes away. It probably only lasted a few seconds but it felt like minutes. Elijah Crane had returned.

Gabriel had been reluctant to be reappointed in Whitby. But he had treated it as the ultimate test. He'd keep a tight reign on himself, do penance daily, and then maybe he would be able to pull this thorn from his flesh. And then he had learned that Crane had left town, and he had been equal parts relieved and disappointed, and neither emotion was one he ought to feel. Ultimately however, he had seen it as grace. Perhaps even a sign.

Whatever it was, it was not to last. The shame. Gabriel had confessed everything. Crane knew everything. How could he face him now?

The boys looked up at him confused, then at each other. Gabriel cast his eyes down again. What was he supposed to do next? He could barely remember where he was. He felt dizzy. His stomach was empty. The world spun.

Gabriel crashed down on the steps to the altar.

Elijah jumped to his feet, seeing Gabriel take a fall. He looked around and asked if there were a doctor in the building as he moved to check on the man. He was worried he'd be injured in the fall and that his current appearance was from some illness that had been eating at his health.

He saw that look in his face before he'd fallen. He was certain he was to blame. The man looked shocked and grew pale. Perhaps coming back to the church had been a terrible idea. "Please wake up, father..."

A hairy, muscular yet potbellied man rose to Elijah’s questioning, rolling up his sleeves.

“Don’t you boys worry here- uh, Father. I done this plenty of times.”

He cranked opened Father Richards’ mouth. Paused. Looked up to Officer Crane.

“The left molar, right?”

Gabriel had hit the steps hard. There was some blood at the back of his head. He opened his eyes, but looked dazed. Even the threat of losing a tooth could not make him stir.

"Tooth?? No, he's fallen and injured." Elijah tried to help lift him and cradle his head. "Maybe I should go and get another doctor?"

He looked down at the man and back at the tooth puller for guidance. The constable didn't expect to see him and he wasn't sure if he caused this but felt guilty either way.

The impromptu dentist pulled in his lips, mouth forming a line.

“You sure now? Never had a man -not- wake up in the middle of pulling.”

Gabriel's eyes moved shortly to the dentist, then to Elijah, but he passed out again. "I'll fetch a doctor!" called a boy, and he was off.

Elijah looked to the dentist as if he were mad. "No! Help me move him out of the way so he is not on these blasted steps!" He tried to gently hold the man's upper body and keep his head safe so he could lay him flat on the floor, and took off his own jacket to use as a pillow for his injured head. "Please don't be dying." He said, and it pained him how deeply he meant it. Was there some sort of curse that those he cared about suffered misfortune?