midnight mass

no grave can hold my body down

(quick little note: nothing really happens in this fic except for like ?? Father Paul having thoughts of longing???? idk babes there's like no action)

It was cold. That was the first thing Father Paul thought when his eyes snapped open, nearly 4 hours after he had died.

He had died.

So, why was he here? This surely couldn't be heaven. It was dark, he couldn't see anything, the smell of dirt was invading his nostrils with every breath. And he felt alive. Of course he had never been dead before, but he'd assumed it would feel different than this. There was no way this was the afterlife, so where was he?

He racked his brain for what he could last remember. He had tumbled into his home, filled to the brim with people, without his consent, and promptly fell to the ground. He remembered the pain as he spasmed on the floor, spitting up blood, choking on it even, while everyone just stood there gasping.

He recalled almost feeling the light inside him go out with each sieze of his body. The last thing he could remember before waking up in this darkness was Bev's face looking down at him, screaming "no".

So he had died. He was sure of it. But now he was back. Somewhere dark, dank, smelling of dirt-

Oh.

Well, they certainly got rid of him fast. The thought filled him with disdain. Their beloved priest, thrown in the dirt, not even a casket, only hours after he'd passed out at their feet. He supposed he could understand it would be hard to explain, the priest dying right in front of them, but to disrespect him so, it honestly filled him with ungodly rage.

He honestly dreaded the climb back up onto land, to his home, to see their shocked faces, to hear their fake excitement. He might as well stay down here, there's only one thing up in Crockett that he cares for anyway. You.

The thought of you had his body tensing and then immediately clawing it's way to the top of the soil. You. His love, his angel, who he had promised to meet a few hours ago. You were probably worried sick, you poor thing.

His hand broke into the night air from below the ground easily, something about his rebirth giving him ample strength, and it was only a matter of time before he was crawling out of the hastily dug grave.

He paid it no mind, no thought, for he was preoccupied with trying to find his way to you. It seemed he was in the woods behind the church, a quick walk to your home and he started on his way, paying no mind to the dirt clinging to every inch of him, or the newfound buzzing in the lights and shining of stars above him. They didn't shine brighter than you. 

You truly were his angel, his salvation, he had escaped death to come crawling to you.  God had sent him back down to be with you, that was his only explanation. God had gifted him back to you.

He wondered what you were doing. If you had called the phone in his rectory more times than you could count. If you were angry, thinking he had blew you off. He would never do that. His time spent with you rivaled the holiest of prayers, rivaled time spent with God himself. When your soft touch caressed his skin, he felt rebirth wherever you touched. Sin was just a word when he took you to bed. He'd sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness for the rest of his life to spend one night with you.

He was nearing your home now, following the soft glow of your porch light. He could see your kitchen light was still on, you were likely still up. He smiled fondly at the thought of you, his darling, up worrying about him.

He climbed your porch steps quickly, knocking gently twice, like he always did. He felt a stir in the bottom of his stomach knowing he'd see your angelic face in a moment.

There was a rustling from behind the door, and time slowed down, just like it always did, when it was pulled open to reveal your face, worried and confused, to his waiting eye.

He gasped with awe at the look of you, the glow of your skin, the kindness in your eyes. There you are. There's his girl. There's that face he would crawl out of his grave to see.

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Inspired by work song by hozier. I know nothing like happens like at all but I think the yearning is fun and slays. Please lmk if you liked it!