Color blossomed in a delightful shade of pink across the doctor’s face, and Malachi was enchanted by the sight. The evening sun played ever in his favor, drawing colors into a warm vibrancy that almost made up for the subtle blur around the edges of his sight.

There was no one else that Malachi would have rather been with. No one else he would rather have end his association with this place once and for all, and begin a new life with after.

Hand holding onto his shoulder, Malachi pulled Arthur closer to his side as they walked.

“It was…”

His first time. The edges of that, too, blurred in his memory. A few long moments passed as he considered his answer, and the low tones of his voice came out softer when he did.

“Yes, it was different. Leading up to it, in those moments just before you move, it feels like… you’re floating. No longer in control of yourself, your thoughts, your own body, just following the will of impulse alone.”

The will of something other than himself. Something more powerful. Something that, no matter how distraught he felt, knew how to guide him into what he had to do.

“Once you move, and you’re actively doing it, killing them – there is nothing that could stop you. I don’t know, there’s just a feeling in it that warns you, tells you that you’ve already made this step and there is no coming back from it, no matter what you do, so you have to see it through.”

Malachi worried that he made the entire thing sound rather abysmal, but that was not his point. His steps slowed, until gradually he brought them both to a stop just before the path opened up to the main entrance.

“It was terrifying,” he confessed, staring ahead to the house without seeing much of it at all. “All of that excitement and impulse suddenly crashes. Perhaps right then, or hours after, or… perhaps it won’t happen to you at all. But then you’re just left with that feeling.”

There is no coming back from it, no matter what you do. The world was irrevocably changed. By taking the life and death of someone else into his hands, some part of his own fell away, and all that he could do was hope that no one ever found the missing pieces and punished him for defying the laws of man.

He blinked, and turned to look down at his lover, serious as the grave.

“And it makes you feel like god,” he whispered. “I want that for you.”

Arthur's attention was stolen completely as Malachi spoke.  He was glad for the hand on his shoulder, leading him back through the garden as it had lead him through the cellar.  Though the air was clear and the sun was bright and the sound of wind was familiar to Arthur, he felt as closed off from it all as he did beneath the ground.

Never in his life had Arthur experienced anything like Malachi described.  To feel like he was floating, not in control of himself - even under the most powerful effects of his own drugs, Arthur had held on close to himself.  It seemed silly to imagine that something as simple as killing someone could exceed that, but when Malachi mentioned god it suddenly made sense.

He's always thought himself as a god.  Always thought that becoming a doctor would be the closest he would ever come to it, but apparently there was another step forward.  And Arthur had been preventing all this time - what a fool he'd been.

"I want that too," he whispered.  "I want it more than words can say."

Really, he deserved it, to feel that power.  To be that powerful, alongside Malachi.  They deserved it.

"Oh, I'm anxious to do it now," he said, smiling a bit.  "Malachi, do you want to watch?  I'd like there to be a witness, and there's no one better than you."

Arthur took the hand that had been resting on his shoulder and held it tight between the two of his own.  Green eyes stared hard at Malachi behind small panes of glass, hopeful and excited and utterly enraptured with the man they were looking at.

"I'm so in love with you, Malachi.  I think I'd like very much to beat Miriam to death, perhaps with my hands.  Would you patch me up afterwards?  I imagine the skin on my knuckles would split."

Softly, his thumbs touched the scabs where the same had happened to Malachi from when he had broken Arthur's nose.

"And after, we'll burn this dreadful place to the ground and catch the first train back to Whitby...  You'll see your children again, and I'll be right beside you, and we'll be gods together.  I'll never stop worshipping you.  I love you."

There was not a universe in existence in which Malachi would have refused to witness Arthur’s ascension. It was a given, as set in stone as the fact that he would always be his, always love him, no matter what happened to them both.

The hands holding his own were warm. They reminded Malachi of the way he had always greeted his parish, enveloping their hands between both of his own, overpowering in such a subtle and infrequently noticed fashion.

It was meant to comfort as much as it was to remind them that he was in control.

On the other end of it, with Arthur, he could hardly find the words for how it made him feel. His other hand came to rest on the back of Arthur’s.

“I love you too.”

Together, they had the power.

Something that he suspected neither of them had come by easily, for the world had been cruel to them both. Malachi wanted desperately for them to show cruelty back, a thousand times worse than either of them had seen.

“I will witness you. I – I will baptize you,” he insisted, pushing their hands close to Arthur’s chest.

“In our name. You are the only thing I have ever truly believed in.”

His voice shook with emotion, even as his face remained unchanged. Malachi forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down before he could say, or do, anything more. With what sounded almost like a sniffle, he gave a nod, squeezed Arthur’s hands, and let go.

“Be-… be careful with her teeth,” he mentioned, looking back towards the house. He motioned vaguely for Arthur to follow. “If you hit her face. They can do a lot of damage to your hands. I will patch you up, of course, but if you do too much it will tear every time you touch me.”

“In our name,” Arthur repeated, his voice heavy with reverence.  In their name.  It was the only one that mattered to him anymore.  For years, he had scoffed at the idea of baptism, but this time around he was excited for it.  After all, it wouldn’t be for God, but for them.

He faced forward when Malachi did, but his eyes lingered on his own hands.  “Teeth…”  Yes, it would be wise to avoid those.  If Miriam’s teeth cut his knuckles, the wound would become infected no matter what he did.  “I’ll be careful.”

It was so quiet outside, so bright and beautiful.  Arthur so wanted to take Malachis face in his hands and kiss him under the warm light of the sun, surrounded by the greenery.  How unfair, that their love was called unsightly, indecent.  How could it be labeled as such when it was so all encompassing, so pure?

“We should hurry to dinner,” he said, glancing at Malachi from the corner of his eye.  “I’m getting a bit hungry, I’ll admit.  Do you know when your brother is arriving?”

“Oh, my love,” sighed Malachi. “He is already here.”

As if on cue, as soon as they stepped out onto the central path, voices could be heard from inside the house. He threw Arthur a look that spoke to his regret for that fact, but did not let it delay him any longer.

Malachi led him back to the front entrance, rolling his shoulders back and straightening his already perfect posture like it would somehow improve it further. A raised hand grabbed the door knocker and knocked twice.

The manservant, having already been close for his previous guests, let them inside the noisy reception area quite quickly, with a bow of his head and a sweeping arm gesture. Malachi motioned for Arthur to enter first and followed after him, eyes sweeping over the scene as they adjusted to the dimmer light.

Miriam was dazzling. She always was. Gone was the casual evening gown she’d worn the night before, replaced by a proper dress with far too many decorative bits and ruffles to cost less than a nice house in Whitby. Her collar nearly reached her powdered chin, while her corset pulled in her waist and, together with her many skirts, gave the illusion of hips she did not have.

The woman standing before her looked almost drab in comparison. Young, or at least she still looked it, with a lovely painted face that far exceeded the muted tones and conservative nature of her dress. Beside her stood a man just as handsome, just as brightly blond, that shared the piercing blue eyes of his mother.

He was laughing when they entered, and even once he’d turned his head the pleasant sound continued.

“Levi, dear, this is the doctor I mentioned that was here in London for the conference,” said Miriam, flashing a smile Arthur’s way.

“Oh, of course,” Levi quieted himself, but the smile remained. He approached them with his wife at his side, and held out a hand. “Good evening, doctor. My name is Levi Brennan, and this is my wife, Mara Brennan.”

She curtsied politely, but her contemplative expression had not changed since they’d entered the house. Her eyes found Malachi for a moment before passing over him, but none said a word, and Malachi did not try to greet them.

“I do hope you do not mind the company,” Levi said. “My wife and I try to visit as often as we can. I’m sure you understand.”

Malachi's look of regret was met with one of absolute exhaustion, just from the idea of meeting and dealing with three Brennan's instead of his perfect one.  The voices from inside sounded loud and obnoxious, and promised a very long dinner.

The character of Doctor Arthur Adams was back in full swing before Malachi knocked on the door, but it dropped for just a second as Arthur leaned, pressing his shoulder to his lovers in a small, hopefully comforting gesture.  Then, the door was open and Arthur stepped through, a small but certain smile gracing his lips.

He dipped his head to Miriam as he was introduced, taking Levi's hand in his own and giving it a firm shake.  "Arthur Adams," he said, "it's a pleasure to meet the both of you.  And please, Levi - may I call you Levi? - don't apologize.  The more the merrier, isn't that what they say?"

Arthur produced a charming laugh, nodding to Mara before looking again to Miriam.  His gaze lingered on her corset and the many ruffles in her skirt in what might have been jealously before lifting to her eyes.

"You look absolutely-" sleazy "-stunning, Mrs. Brennan.  Now I feel underdressed."

Malachi outshined them all, that much Arthur was sure of.  Though most of the beautiful intricacies of his lace shirt was hidden beneath the jacket he wore, and the bruises and cuts on his skin below that, but Arthur knew they were there.  That was all that mattered.

Miriam’s smile was coy, concealing her delight with a mask of mischief as she met Arthur’s gaze.

“You are far too kind,” she said, holding her hands neatly at the front of her corseted waist. They sparkled with expensive blue jewelry, reflected similarly in the earrings she wore.

Leaning ever so slightly closer, she lowered her voice to tease, “if anything, doctor, you are overdressed.”

“Come now, mother, we do not want the man to starve,” Levi pitched in, his smile yet to fade.

“Yes, of course,” Miriam waved for the manservant, who swiftly moved to walk ahead and lead them to the dining hall.

The pale light of the morning was incomparable to the mood set by the last rays of the evening sun, when it came to the tall windows that lined the dining hall. Candles had been set out, along with the lavish meal the new cooks had prepared.

Above, the light glittered off the glass teardrops of the chandelier, throwing gentle outlines of their shapes across the hall.

Levi took his seat beside Miriam. Mara moved to sit across from him, but paused when she noted Malachi’s presence farther in the room than she’d likely ever seen him. Silently, she offered the seat to him instead, which he took with all the hesitation of a mouse accepting kindness from its trap.

She seated herself beside Levi instead.

“So,” came Levi’s inquisitive tone, after a tense moment in which both he and his mother had startled at the sight of Malachi at the table. His eyes settled on the doctor.

“Arthur. Tell me about yourself, would you? How long have you been a doctor? You enjoy the practice well, I take it?”

Arthur laughed at Miriam's teasing, though it took another moment for him to realize what she had meant.  While the rest of their company made their way to the dining hall, Arthur shot a bewildered look to Malachi.  Had - had Miriam intended the meaning behind that?  Or was she just not careful with her words?

And to think, Arthur thought the evening couldn't get any worse.

It would get better, first, if just for a moment it seemed.  Malachi looked absolutely lovely sitting at the table beside him.  Had they been alone, Arthur would have pulled out his chair for him, poured his drink for him, slid beneath the table and stayed there all throughout his meal, releasing him of his trousers and stress and hunger all in one hour.  But their company, he thought, might object to that, so he saved that idea for another time.

"Oh, there is nothing more rewarding than being a doctor," he said to Levi meanwhile.  "I find that serving the public, helping people is truly the most fulfilling profession one can pursue - but profession is such a harsh word for it, I feel.  Healing, helping, it is more of a life style for me."

Underneath the table, Arthur could not position himself, but he could reach out and subtly place a finger on the edge of Malachi's seat.  Not touching him, not yet, but hopefully reminding him that he was not alone.

"My studies began some ten years ago, but my passion began long before that.  My mother, she was sickly growing up, and I always wanted to help her feel better.  Over the years it developed into - well, into what you see now before you."

He shrugged, feigning humility, and tilted his head at Levi and Mara.

"Your mother tells me you run a tailoring business.  How is that?  Busy, I assume, there's always a demand for beautiful clothes."

The look returned by the former priest seemed to imply that he was not particularly surprised by Miriam’s comment. If anything, he was shocked that Arthur only caught onto her possible motivations now, after the way she had practically dissected him with her eyes that morning.

In any case, once they were all seated at the table, Malachi made no attempt to watch the faces of those around him. Sitting at the table was a grave enough sin as far as Miriam was concerned, and it was not his desire to disturb the tenuous peace just yet.

Without glancing over, he shifted in his seat, moving his leg so that Arthur’s finger touched his thigh.

He wondered how much of what he told them was true – if any of it was.

“My, how selfless!” Levi laughed, looking positively charmed by the doctor’s story. While the servants moved around them, transferring food onto their plates, he ignored them in favor of Arthur.

“Yes, there is demand indeed. I will be the first to admit that my wife knows more about it all than I do, but it is a profitable business, for those of us less swayed by such altruistic goals.”

Shameless, he was – all of them were.

Waiting for her wine glass to be filled, Mara let her gaze wander between Malachi and Arthur.

“How do you know Malachi?” she inquired, earning an uncomfortable look from her mother-in-law.

“Miriam mentioned that you met in the church, but even so, I have not known him to bring anyone here. You are… also a religious man, Doctor Adams?”

Conscious of the servants around them, but uncaring of their thoughts on the matter, Arthur's hand moved on top of Malachi's leg halfway up his thigh.  There, his hand simply rested, providing warmth for his lover and an easy easy to reach him if need be.

"I so admire business savvy women," Arthur offered with a nod to Mara.  "I hope you see the benefits of your wisdom."

So easily, this woman took Malachi's name.  Did she know what Arthur did, he wondered.  Did she know where he was raised, how he was treated by her husband and mother in law?  Know all the hardships he endured only to be unwelcome at his own damn table in his own damn home?

"For a while, I struggled with religion, I admit.  But recently, I have... found myself saved, in more ways than one.  Father Malachi Brennan played a very big part in that."

He was not saved by the God these people knew and loved, though.  No, Arthur's god was sitting right beside him.

"And even outside of the church, Malachi has been a very dear friend to me, very reliable.  Did Mrs. Brennan tell you how he assisted me at my conference?  He was very helpful indeed.  And more than that, because of him, I get to meet all of you - and how honored I am to do so."