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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Lanzen_Jars on 2024-12-24 19:58:21+00:00.
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A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all who celebrate! Been a while since we had one of these, but I could not get it shorter today, so this will be a two parter. Once the second part is up, I will hopefully be able to edit in the link to it because this will be a short post. Hope you enjoy!
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Chapter 199 – Through love, we shall…
Part A
James scowled as his leg nervously bobbed up and down at rapid speeds. He released a deep sigh and glanced around, looking for a clock or any other way to tell the time. He didn’t find any. Just how long had he been here? It felt like…well he didn’t even know at this point. Hours? Days? Surely it couldn’t have been that long. However, his sense for time was all out of whack.
And that wasn’t the only thing. His head felt like it was…swimming somehow. Both metaphorically and literally. He felt floaty. As if his head was moving on its own instead of being carried by his neck.
Probably aftereffects of…uh…of…
He reached up to rub his head, trying to remember. Something had happened, didn’t it? Damn it, the nervousness was messing with his head more than he anticipated.
He looked around again. Still no clock, go figure.
Left and right of him, the room was pretty much empty. Perfectly blank walls on all sides. Only the row of welded-together chairs he was sitting on broke up the monotony. Even the ceiling was completely gray and smooth.
His leg was still bobbing aggressively as he leaned back and released a low breath. He had wanted to sigh, but apparently he hadn’t quite done it right because the sound that reached his ear didn’t fit with that at all.
A bit irritated from failing at something as simple as sighing he tried again – to similar results as before.
He scowled deeply, pushing up a little as she wondered what was going on, when his attention was suddenly caught by movement in the corner of his vision.
He blinked as he looked at the man who had so suddenly appeared next to him, tensing to be on his guard at first. However, as he took in the familiar visage of the new arrival, his shoulders gradually relaxed – though a little bit of tension remained while his eye caught the flashing of a golden symbol hanging around the man’s neck.
“Father Maxwell…” James murmured as he sat up a bit straighter to greet the man. “What are you doing here?”
Father Maxwell looked exactly how James remembered the man. He was tall and willowy. The pale and almost slightly gray skin of his flat face was painted with deep lines, despite his relatively young age. Round, frame-less glasses sat on his small nose and constantly slid down a little too much to be practical, while his jaw-length, dirty-blonde hair hung around his head like curtains in a bob cut.
He was dressed a long, black coat made of an almost canvas-like material, which covered any other clothes he may have worn underneath it entirely. That was, of course, except for the golden, star-framed cross around his neck.
Despite his almost scary appearance, Father Maxwell had the same old smile on his face that he always did whenever he had greeted James when he came by after his studies in the past.
“I was asked to serve as your spiritual guide during these trying times,” he replied openly as he walked over to James in a slow, almost floating manner. Once he was only a step away, he made a wide gesture with his arm that was accentuated by his sleeve, which was way too wide and hung off the spindly limb. Though, instead of swinging around, it seemed to be quite stiff, simply making his arm look wider as the light quickly disappeared down its dark opening. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”
James nodded.
“I’m not part of the church anymore,” he reminded, though as he tried to recall the time he had left the religion, his memories turned fuzzy for a moment.
Father Maxwell slid into the chair next to him in a ghostly manner, sitting very straight and keeping his hands firmly on his knees.
“Nobody ever truly leaves,” Maxwell said in a calm and reassuring tone. “Or, more precisely, I would not forsake one of mine whether they are believers or not.”
“Maybe you should. After all, I’m a Saint now,” James countered a bit sarcastically as he scooted to the side, though it barely felt like it was putting any distance between him and the priest.
Maxwell released another gentle chuckle.
“Then it will be my honor to sit with you, Saint Aldwin,” he replied and gave a mild bow of his head. “Truly the way you have come is astounding.”
James found himself a bit disarmed by the priest’s familiar manner of speaking, and he couldn’t help but smirk as Maxwell had to reach up to push his glasses back on his nose.
“I have missed much in the years since you left, it seems,” he then stated and crossed his arms on his lap, still looking straight ahead instead of making eye-contact with James.
“Yeah, a lot has happened,” James said and reached up to scratch his face.
“It is good to see that you have still not forgotten to walk your own path,” Maxwell mused and titled his head back into his neck to seemingly look up, though his eyes were closed. “It is an honorable thing you are doing here.”
James sighed and sunk into himself a bit, laying his elbows onto his knees as he put his weight forwards onto them.
“Just…practicing what I preach, I suppose,” he remarked under his breath.
“Now, you know what we think of preachers, James,” Maxwell admonished him in a playfully scolding tone.
“Hypocrite,” James countered without missing a beat, causing both men to laugh for a few seconds.
Though after a few moments, the corner’s of James’ mouth slowly sunk down again.
Something didn’t sit right with him. They had that exchange often, and they laughed about it every time. Yet somehow, right now, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I…don’t need any guidance,” he stated without truly knowing where that just came from.
Maxwell finally glanced over to him, almost curiously. There was a slight gleam in his light-brown eyes as he scrutinized James with his gaze.
“You don’t?” he questioned outright, lifting his head to really look at the man next to him. “I don’t mean to offend, James, but you are sitting all alone in the waiting area of a detention facility, just biding your time until you are locked away. You seem like a man in need of guidance to me.”
James’ scowl deepened. Why did those words irk him so damn much?
“Not my first time being arrested,” he countered with a slightly dismissive tone.
“But your first time turning yourself in,” Maxwell retorted. “A lot scarier than just being overwhelmed and taken away. You have to take the plunge yourself.”
James scoffed mildly.
“I jump out of space-ships,” he said with false confidence.
“You’ve done that dozens of times,” Maxwell replied.
James sighed again, his irritation rising even more. He clenched his fist. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but despite his brief relief to see the priest, he now just wanted him gone.
“I said I do not need or want your service,” he stated firmly, sitting up to look around. There had to be guards or something, right?
Blank walls on all sides. Damn it. Apparently, no luck. Where had the guards gone who had brought him in here? Guards…had to have brought him in here, right?
Suddenly, James felt a touch on his knee, instantly swatting it away. He glared over at the priest, who quickly raised both his hands in a surrendering motion.
“James,” he said in a tone that was at the same time calm and worried…and infuriating. “What has gotten into you?”
James wished he knew. He reached up to rub his head again, his brain still feeling like it was swimming in a bowl.
“I couldn’t tell you,” he answered honestly. “I guess…a lot has happened.”
Maxwell smiled at him, once again pushing his glasses up.
“Why don’t you relax for a moment?” he suggested, putting his hands back onto his own legs. “Those breathing exercises you were taught in the military. You still know those, right? Why don’t we try it? It might help you clear your head.”
Although he was still inexplicably pissed off, James nodded and inhaled deeply. Father Maxwell hadn’t led him wrong before…had he?
In. Hold. Out. Hold. In. Hold. Out. Hold. In control.
He repeated it a couple of times while trying to focus on the ‘sphere’ of his inner world; trying his best to smooth it out. Get it perfectly round. Address the edges and bumps that had formed.
Next to him, Father Maxwell appeared to be doing the exercises with him, though James’ head was a bit too fuzzy to hear if he was doing it right or not; not really registering the man’s breath at all. Back in the day, Maxwell had made it a habit to cheat a bit whenever he and James had done exercises such as this one.
As he remembered that, a new flash of unexplained irritation zapped through James.
Once he was done breathing, James looked down at his hands. He had brought them together. He held the thumb of his right hand between the index-finger and thumb of the…
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