Phil's family doesn't regularly attend church, but his mother does. Phil, his father, and his brother, only attend when Mrs Lester tells them that it's time they visited God in his own house rather than taking advantage of the fact that God will be with them in their home all the time. Phil doesn't believe in God and he doesn't know why not, though he guesses it's because there was never a real connection there. There's this feeling that all of the dedicated church-goers describe, and Phil's never felt it. There's supposed to be this love, this connection, this… overwhelming sense of knowing, comfort, trust, righteousness, and peace. He tried to feel that way, the way you're supposed to feel when you've been saved, when you're a Christian, but he's never been able to. For a short time he thought it was because God didn't love him, and for a much longer time he believed that there was something wrong with him, because how wide of the mark can you be that you can't even accept God and Jesus into your heart? Phil doesn't think either of those things anymore.

Eventually he decided that he didn't care, and soon after that he realised that it was okay and that it didn't matter. He wasn't, and still isn't, a Christian, he just doesn't believe that, and that's perfectly okay. His mother, though, still expects him to be present at church on the rare occasions that the family does attend. Phil doesn't mind, he respects that his mother is a devout Christian and that the rest of his family probably believe in something along the same lines as she does. He doesn't mind having to sit through singing, services, and prayer from time-to-time, maybe he'll learn something or magically start feeling the way he supposes Christians feel.

Dan's family goes to church every week, his father goes twice and his younger brother attends youth group there on Friday nights. Somewhere along the grapevine, Phil heard that Dan once attended the same group but that he doesn't anymore. Dan's father never once stepped foot inside a church until the passing of his wife, Dan's mother. All Phil knows is that now their whole family, all three of them, attend the morning service at St Mark's church on Vega Street, so it came as no surprise when Phil spotted the brown eyed teenager walking into the church as Phil and his family pulled up.

"Alright," Phil's mum begins as everyone takes off their seatbelts, "Best behaviour, be nice, and-"

"Mum," Martyn cuts off with a chuckle, "We're not five; we'll be fine."

"I'm serious, boys. We really need this right now and it's important," Mrs Lester states, and the all nod and shuffle out of the car.

The service is over and everyone is standing around and chatting. A few of the older ladies have gushed over how much Phil has grown and how long his hair's gotten and the youth group leaders have urged him to start attending their programs, apparently they're "really fun, and there's nothing better than spending your Friday nights with Jesus!". It's laughable, but Phil doesn't poke fun, he just smiles and says that he'll think about it each time another one comes to ramble about it. Eventually the regular attendees lose interest in him and Phil is free to focus his attention on locating Dan. His parent's car is still here and Phil spots Dan's dad talking to a pretty woman from the church choir, so he hasn't left yet.

Wandering around the grounds of the church he admires the large tree standing in the middle of the grounds, it's a sessile oak he briefly remember someone telling him once. He takes a few steps closer, quickly checking behind him that no one from the church was missing him before turning back to the tree. He looks up at the few clouds in the sky through the branches and takes in a quiet, but deep, breath as he takes another step forward to get a better look at the sky against the foliage.

"I don't even know why you would be listening anymore, honestly," Phil hears a boy's voice, "I know I wouldn't be… but then again, I guess that's why you're God and I'm not. I'm not God, and sometimes I'm not even sure if I'm human, is that stupid? Yeah. That's stupid, I'm sorry. The thing is, God, I don't understand why I am the way that I am. You and me, we're meant to be best friends, aren't we? I'm supposed love you and you're supposed to love me, but how can you or any God-loving person, including myself, love me if…?"

Phil just keeps listening. He knows that it's Dan now, he can recognise the voice. Dan Howell, sitting under a large oak tree in, barely hidden by the large trunk. Dan's voice is soft and scared, and Phil knows that eavesdropping is wrong, and it's even more so when it's somebody's prayers, but he can't help it. There's so much that he wants to know.

"I don't understand why you would let me love you if you're the one that made me gay! You don't like homosexuality, everyone knows that! What would my mum think? Is she up there with you? Can you tell me what she thinks? Can you tell me what you think? I just… I hate myself, and I'm sorry for hating something that you've created, but… but you did this to me and I'm scared that I might hate you for it too. I don't want to hate you…" Dan spurs emotionally.

The thing about hearing someone's prayers is that they are the most personal thoughts and feelings that a human being will ever utter, but something inside Phil tells him that he's meant to be hearing these things, so he stays put. The poor boy sounds so distressed that Phil wants nothing more than to reveal the fact that he'd been listening just so that he could take Dan in his arms and tell him that everything will be alright. This though, isn't an option and would most definitely ruin any chances of a friendship with, or eventual marriage to, Dan.

"You already know this I think, because you know everything, but I've been with a man in a homosexual relationship. It wasn't just homosexual. It was homo-romantic, and like, I mean… love is good, right? 'Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.' That's in the Bible, I know it is because I've read it dozens of times over, savouring the fact that it could mean that you don't hate me. That I don't have to hate me." Suddenly Dan is crying and Phil can hear the heart break in his voice as he speaks, "I've tried to not be an abomination, but the thing is, I didn't choose this and I can't choose to not be this either. Sometimes I even think that it's okay..."

There's this guy," Dan begins again after a brief pause, he breathes a laugh and takes in another lungful of air, "That sounds so dumb, like a cliché movie where the main character is- actually, never mind. Anyway, there's this guy and his name is Phil. He's a good person, he's here today, and he's not straight either. He makes it seem like it's not that bad, like it could be okay. No one hates him for it, except me of course but I promise I'm going to stop, he's just… he's fine with it, and I want that. I just don't know how I can have that and still have you at the same time. I get that you're supposed to be put first, but you're not the one down here suffering. I am, and I think that sometimes you need to put yourself first in order to be okay. Maybe if my mum knew that… Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I don't know if we can be friends anymore and that it breaks my heart because you've always been such a huge part of my life. I don't want to hate myself, and I don't want to live with the knowledge that someone I love hates me because of who I am. That's not a positive relationship, and I just can't subject myself to that kind of abuse. I'm sorry that I've let you down, but if you really think about it, you've let yourself down. You made me the way that I am and you expected me to follow a path of self-hate and sadness, this is your own fault. I know this conversation has taken a turn, but I'm angry. I'm angry, and I'm hurt, and I feel so alone without your love… the thing is, I don't think I'm going to feel like this forever. I'm resilient. I'll be okay one day, lots of people lead happy, amazing lives without you, and I can too. I'm never going to deny you, because I think I'll always believe in you, but I can't have the relationship with you that I think I'm meant to. I think- I hate to say it, but I think this is goodbye…"

Phil turns around and walks back toward the large congregation of people outside the church, ready to look for his mum and tell her that he needs to get out of here. He's shocked, he's… he doesn't know what else he's feeling. Phil doesn't know what he's supposed to feel when he hears someone break up with their God. He picks up his walking pace and heads into one of the more modern church buildings where the kitchen and bathrooms are, he's a little surprised at how well he's managed to remember where everything is. He pushes open the glass double doors and looks around him. The congregation must've bought new furniture because it actually looks quite good in here, Phil notes. The kitchen adorning this dining hall is empty, which Phil finds quite strange as he swears his mum had said she was helping with the church morning tea this morning.

"Ah, Philip! Have you enjoyed your morning in the presence of God?" an older man's voice comes from behind him, "It is a lovely day to enjoy the stained-glass window depictions of Mary, Jesus, and… well, whoever those other people were."

Phil, irritated, rolls his eyes before turning to be greeted with none other than Mr Wilder. "Honestly, you're following me to church now, too? Clearly you don't believe in God, I mean, not with the whole time-traveling 'psychic' thing you've got going on."

"You say 'psychic' like you don't believe I am one," Wilder points out, his voice filled with intrigue.

"There's a difference between time traveling, or projecting people into other times, or whatever, and actually having psychic or metaphysical senses."

"That's true. Luckily for me, I have both abilities mastered and clearly printed on my resume."

"Not that you need a resume, you just walk in and fake being a substitute teacher whenever you're strapped for cash."

"I am, actually, a qualified teacher." Wilder's smile widens as Phil stops with no response, "You see, Phil, I've had a lot of time to do a lot of things, I just didn't think it necessary to list off all of my notable achievements to you."

"Right. Thanks for making me feel like an idiot, it's much appreciated."

"And for the record, I do believe in a god. Maybe it's not the same as God-god," Mr Wilder indicates, gesturing toward their surroundings, "But I do believe there is a god, and of course there is no doubt about the goddess."

"Alright…" Phil nods, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm here to help you help Daniel. You heard him earlier, by the tree. You heard his prayers, you heard his thoughts and feelings, and you heard his fears. I'm not sending you back to your childhood, or into your future. No, this time you're only going back about ten minutes. When Dan re-joins the congregation, be there for him," Wilder says, "You're a source of hope and inspiration for him, and maybe he needs that source to remind him that he doesn't necessarily have to abandon his faith."

"But I don't even believe in any of that stuff?" Phil questions, "And he seems like he doesn't want to either."

"Philip, without his faith he very well may end up like his mo-"

"Don't say that!" Phil demands, "Don't you dare finish that sentence!"

"If you care about him that much," Mr Wilder says as Phil wills his eyes to stay open, "Then perhaps this is something you ought to do."

Against his will, Phil's dry eyes blink shut, and he knows what's going to happen next.