This took soooooo much longer than I thought it would, I tend to need a motivator.
I wasn't initially going to write this fic, but I just couldn't help myself, the idea was just too tempting. Though updates may be sparatic I WILL finish this fic. I would like to have a beta for this, but honestly someone to just shoot me insescent email's is equally as helpfull if not more so.
And yes I am aware of how awefuly cheesy my title is, I couldn't think of anything else Captain Swany.
Now without further ado here is the first chapter that took me entirely too much time to write considering its length and the fact that I'm still not happy with it.
There was a certain feeling of accomplishment that came with getting dressed every morning. Maybe it was the unholy (no pun intended) amount of buttons on his priest garb that he managed to don perfectly every day without fail. Maybe it was his well kept and clean-shaven appearance, never a hair out of place. But most likely it was the fact that he managed all of this with only one hand.
Yep, it was definitely the one-handed thing...
He blew out a thankful breath when he finally won the daily battle with his collar. It took an exceptionally dexterous person to do half the things he did on a daily basis, having only one hand turned everything into a challenge. He supposed the feeling was similar to being a marathon runner with only one foot. But if there was one thing that the young priest loved more than God and the ocean, it was a challenge.
Despite that fact there were times where his handicap was definitely more of a hindrance than a help, the black encased stump causing some form of trouble with most anything he tried to do. He didn't even understand why he had his strange glorified stump instead of a normal prosthetic. The blasted thing didn't even make sense. How did it even stay on? Who made a stump casing with a hole in it anyway? But there was something about it that felt right, almost comforting.
Finishing the adjustments to his ensemble with hard earned ease, he headed out to begin his daily routine.
Brother Peter Colins was many things, intermittent wasn't one of them. He was systematic, everyday had pretty much the same routine, and though sometimes he felt like he was missing something, he was generally happy. It was an easy and comfortable life, though it admittedly lacked the flare he would have liked, but he was a priest and "flare" wasn't exactly part of the job description. He did admit that his practice wasn't exactly orthodox, he preferred to be called 'Brother' when he was indeed a Father of the faith in all respects, but he didn't view himself as worthy of that title. Brother suited him better in his opinion. Besides, where better to be an unorthodox priest than an unorthodox town? Peter couldn't even remember what drew him to being a priest, let alone practicing it in Storybrooke of all places, but that held little importance to him. What truly mattered to the young man was helping the people of his small community, whether certain people wanted him there or not. He let out a sigh as the breeze from the nearby bay washed over him, giving him all the motivation he needed to begin his trek to Granny's.
Peter spent nearly as much time at Granny's Diner as he did at the church, and definitely more time than he spent at his own home.
A man had to eat right?
It wasn't that he was too lazy to make himself something, he honestly tried, but it proved far more trouble than it was worth. Sandwiches took twice as much time for him to make, stove top cooking was simply out of the question, he had even tried TV dinners, but even they had betrayed him. So now he ate at Granny's, and suffered the indignity of having his food cut for him. Ruby refused to give him a full set of silverware, banning knives after he had experimentally attached one to his stump and attempted to use it normally. Needless to say it didn't end well and Leroy had almost lost an eye, the stocky man hadn't let him forget it either…
Shuddering at the memory of the foul language, curses, and death threats he received from the grumpy town drunk, he continued his walk, shoving the memory aside and instead focusing on his now growling stomach. He reached Granny's within the next few minutes, pushing the door open with his right hand, finding comfort at the familiar sound of the bell that rung at the action.
"Morning, Peter." He only smiled at hearing the familiar voice.
"Good morning, Ruby. How are you this fine day?" He asked with mock gusto as the scantily clad waitress sauntered over, handed him a menu, and went to lean casually against his booth by the left window.
"Absolutely fantastic, O great brother of virtue." She teasingly replied, her own wolfish grin plastered on her face. Peter honestly couldn't remember how he and the… outgoing young woman had become such good friends, but he found her company quite enjoyable despite their different moral standing. All he could remember was her incessant flirting from when they first met, and the eventual friendship that formed when he had made it clear that nothing would happen between them even if he weren't a priest. He suspected that any other woman would have taken extreme offense to such a statement (and probably slapped him for being so blatant), but Ruby had seemed almost happy with the fact for no reason he could imagine, and their odd friendship had only grown from there. There was something about her playful personality that was almost familiar to him, it was comforting, in an odd way.
"I suspect it will be your usual today, huh Mr. Priest." Ruby stated casually, already scribbling away at the clipboard in her hands as her friend slipped into his seat facing the door.
"You know me so well." He clucked his tongue at the young beauty, handing her back the menu with a flourish.
"Read you like a book there, captain." She said with a wink before taking his order to the kitchen. Peter let out chuckle, Ruby definitely helped bring out his fun side, and every once in a while it was good to joke around, even for a priest.
It didn't take long for his coffee to come out, quickly followed by his meal. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if Ruby had it cooking before he walked in the door, he did order the same thing for breakfast almost everyday after all. He sipped leisurely at his coffee before setting it down to read the next column of the newspaper, another bothersome task that came with only having one hand. Why he even bothered to read the dull Daily Mirror was beyond him, but it gave him something to do before church every morning, so he wasn't complaining. And, as he did every day, he finished his food and the newspaper, checked the clock, paid Ruby with one last clever quip, and left at precisely 7:00.
As per usual, he arrived at the church at exactly 7:30. The familiar smell of the building always brought him a sense of calm, and he liked it almost as much as the scent of the ocean… almost. He quickly set to work, preparing the sacristy, the confessional, the alter, and checking to make sure the pews were in top shape. He had promised Mother Superior that he would take care of all duties today while the nuns spent the day tending to the hospital patients. He didn't mind, and it was something he offered to do at least once a week. He enjoyed and resented the solitude. Peter tapped his fingers along the Bible on the alter idly as he waited for someone, anyone, to come to church for something as he recited psalms, and prayers in his head, staring at, but not really seeing, the stained glass above the door.
It always gave him a bit too much time to think on the few days when no one showed up, it made him think about things he'd rather not dwell on. His past, though not well remembered, was something he was ashamed of. He felt the need to repent through new actions now, and being a priest was just the way to do it. So he stood and waited, hoping that someone would walk through the church's doors and give him something to do.
With a familiar creak he heard the church door open, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when he saw his visitor.
"Henry, what brings you here, lad? Shouldn't you be in school?" He asked warmly, he definitely had a soft spot for the ten year old. The boy grinned excitedly and practically ran to meet him.
"Brother Peter! I have a really important question to ask you." It was obvious that the kid was riled up about something, and given his glum mood lately, Peter would humor him as long as it brought some form of joy back to the boy's demeanor. Henry was a true friend to him, always checking in, even sharing a meal with him on occasion, and he knew the feeling was mutual. The lad didn't have many friends.
"Really, whatever could that be?" He kneeled slightly so that he could be at eye level with his visitor.
"Do you believe that anything is possible, even if its crazy?" Henry asked quickly, looking at the priest expectantly, almost desperately. Peter was slightly taken aback by the question. What was a ten year old thinking about something like that for? He honestly didn't have an answer, but he had told himself he would humor the boy, and so he would. He had to think of something fast.
"Well, lad, I think that if you believe in something, truly believe in something. Than it is real. Not everyone has to believe it, and not everyone is going to, but anything that you put enough faith into is real." Henry looked at him with a raised brow, confusion evident in his expression.
"I don't understand." Peter placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Well um, take God for instance." The way the lad's other eyebrow joined it's counterpart proved how poorly the priest was doing at explaining himself. He really needed to work on that. "I believe in God. There are a lot of people who don't and some that would call me crazy for believing, but I don't let that stop me. I believe, and I know in my heart that what I believe is real. Always have faith, Henry. It doesn't make you crazy and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise." With what he hoped was a comforting pat, Peter stood.
"Thanks." The smile that lit up Henry's face was worth all the repercussions that were bound to come from his mother, and he was shocked when he felt arms around his middle. He looked down to see Henry crushing him in a hug, smiling, he returned the gesture with a soft laugh.
"Now don't you have some place to be?" The priest reminded, hoping the boy would get the hint. It wouldn't be the first time that Henry was late for school, and it wouldn't be the first time he skipped it. Why come to a church to ditch school, the priest had no clue. It wasn't exactly a fun place to be, especially for kids. It's not like the boy was religious either, so it stumped Peter as to why he would abandon his education for church of all places.
Whatever the reason, Mayor Mills would flay the Brother alive for allowing such a thing, hopefully no time soon…
For the time being, Peter was content to just see the boy happy, and as Henry ran out of the church waving and shouting his thanks, he knew it was worth it. Feeling quite good about himself, the priest returned to his praying, no longer burdened by thoughts of his past.
"Mr. Colins," Said man practically jumped out of his skin as the voice shocked him out of his almost meditative state. Whirling around to face his guest, barely catching himself on the alter as he tried mask his lack of nerve. "I hope you haven't forgotten what day it is." The distaste in Gold's voice was ever evident, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. There was something about Mr. Gold that always left him on edge, but he could never quite put his finger on it. The pure hatred in his eyes was enough to make a lesser man tremble. Peter didn't even understand why the pawnbroker harbored such feelings towards him, he just hoped the older man never acted on them.
"Of course not." Was his careful reply, eyeing Gold nervously as he dug his hand into his pocket.
"I'm waiting." The impatient bite made Peter flinch.
"My apologies." With a silent prayer of thanks he finally managed to fish the stuffed envelope out of his pocket, holding it out to the shopkeeper. Gold snatched it aggressively from the priest's hand.
"Thank you." Though Gold sounded anything but thankful as he gave the younger man a deadly smile. He turned without a second glance and made to leave the church, once he reached the door, he paused, casting a sideways glance over his shoulder. "Good day, Mr. Colins." With that he was gone, and Peter let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
How did Gold manage to make everything sound like a threat? The priest shook his head, rubbing at his stump as the phantom pains started to tingle. For some reason they always flared up near Gold, he assumed it was from the stress that came with the presence of the man. Paying his rent was undoubtedly his least favorite time of the month, and it drained him or nearly all the money he had.
Peter took a deep breath. There was nothing he could do to change anything with Gold, he'd known it since the moment he'd met the man. Not a memory he liked to look back on. He would just have to make do. The priest almost scoffed, that was something he told himself constantly. Just make do. Just make do and one of these days, things would change.
Hours later he returned to his humble seaside abode, tempted to bust out one of his fine red wines (his guilty pleasure) and let the smooth red liquid sooth his troubles. But alas, now wasn't the time for that. Flopping unceremoniously unto his couch with a deep sigh, Peter stared at his ceiling fan, watching the shadows dance across the white surface with the movement of the light fixture. Something changed today, he wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but something had definitely changed. Things were going to be different somehow, of that he was certain. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but he had a feeling that it was something good. Well, at least he hoped so…