Author's note: this is the first forage into non-canon scenes for this fic and is an attempt to map some of what happened for our protagonists between S3e02 and S3e5 when they both return. My hope is that it fits within what could be canon.
Peter, May 1998
Peter lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. The bed was hard and narrow and his room sparsely furnished, the only decoration on the wall being a small crucifix above the bed, but it had been a sanctuary for the last month. After his conversation with Assumpta he'd gone home, packed a bag and left Bally K as soon as Father Mac could arrange for his stay at the small Priory on the outskirts of Dublin.
He'd arrived exhausted, physically, mentally and spiritually, and the monks had tended to him gently and lovingly. For the first few days he'd not been able to do anything but pray, spending long hours on his knees in front of the altar, but the brothers had gradually eased him into a routine of prayer, meditation, worship and work, as well as into then fellowship of the priory. It had felt safe and gentle and it'd been nice to be ministered to rather than to do the ministering. He'd also managed to get some sleep, for the first time in weeks. He still dreamt of her, of Assumpta, but the dreams were gentler and muted in comparison to before.
Once he was better rested, he'd spent time in prayer and study with the monks, and also time with the bishop in more recent weeks wrestling with his questions and doubts. He definitely hadn't lost his faith in God and in the work of Jesus Christ and that gave him an underlying sense that he wasn't completely lost. It was his view of the church, of the priesthood and his own vocation that he'd been wrestling with, as well as, of course, the nature of his feelings for Assumpta and what the godly thing to do was.
The quiet and godly faith of the monks had done an amazing job of restoring his faith in the church and, whilst he'd found solace within the walls of the priory, he could see that men were needed to go out to minister and witness to the community. He'd even felt some of the old thrill about getting out there to do that again, which had warmed his soul no end.
His real struggle had come, as he knew it would, when it came to his feelings for Assumpta and his own personal vocation. He'd been encouraged, understandably, to confess his sin in relation to her and, whilst he'd been able to confess his lust and jealousy, he'd found it hard to think of his love for her as a sin. He knew that, as a priest, he could never and should never act on it in any way, but how could it be wrong to love her? And how could he stop if it was? Father Mac had seemed to think it was possible to scrub someone from your mind, but he didn't think so. He knew all he could do was to be content to love her from afar, without leading her on, and to hope that, in time, the feelings faded.
His great struggle was whether his feelings disqualified him from the priesthood or not. The bishop was keen to connect his current feelings for Assumpta with the previous situation with Jennie and that his battle was loneliness and the need to find his contentment and companionship in Christ, but Peter wasn't sure. With Jennie, the driving factor, for him anyway, had been loneliness which combined with flattery had been a potent force of temptation. It was different with Assumpta, at least he thought so; he hadn't been lonely in Ballykissangel until he'd fallen in love with Assumpta, the driving factor had simply been her. And leaving Jennie had been straight forward and obvious once he realised what had happened, he'd mostly felt embarrassed and awkward, whereas leaving Assumpta had wrenched his heart in two; he felt like a part of him was missing.
He knew he had to leave the Priory soon. It'd been a refuge from the world but he knew that it couldn't last forever, the bishop had said as much when they'd met this morning. He was definitely better rested than when he'd arrived, and his faith was robust, but other than some strategies to combat loneliness he wasn't sure he would be going back out there with anything more than a renewed desire to be a good priest. He supposed he would only discover if that was enough when he returned to Ballykissangel and to Assumpta.
Assumpta, June 1998
Assumpta opened her eyes, her head pounding and her mouth stale with red wine. She groaned and rolled over to look at the time. Leo was snoring quietly next to her. She got quietly out of bed and padded to the kitchen to get some water and find some aspirin.
She sat in Leo's kitchen waiting for the painkiller to kick in, reflecting on the whirlwind that had been the last two months and contemplating returning to Ballykissangel; the rural idyll seemed a lifetime away from Leo's rented one bedroom flat in east London, but she knew that she had to go back, at least for a bit, to make a decision about the pub.
"Come back to bed"
She heard Leo's sleepy hungover voice calling her from the bedroom.
"Just a moment" she called back.
She'd left Bally K in a rush, needing to get away from Peter and to mend her heart. She'd barely given Niamh time to get her head around running the pub before getting a flight to London where Leo had met her at the airport. He'd called her the week before to say he was in London for a job and inviting her to come and stay for a bit. She'd initially told him no, that she couldn't leave the pub, but after that night at Kilnashee, when she'd realised just how much of a mess her and Peter were in, and that he was breaking her heart, she'd called Leo back and said she'd love to come for a holiday. Leo had been delighted; she had just felt sad and broken.
She hadn't meant to fall back into things with Leo. The first night she'd been in London she'd silently cried herself to sleep in Leo's bed, him gallantly on the sofa, missing Peter and mourning all that could have been. The next night they'd gone out for curry on Brick Lane, she'd drank too much and woken up, fully clothed, next to Leo in bed. He insisted nothing had happened, which she believed, but she had felt just ever so slightly better as he'd cooked her a fry up to soak up the wine. After that it'd been all too easy just to fall into a pattern; he worked most of the day and she pottered round town and then they went out in the evening and ended up in bed together. She had meant to talk to Leo about Peter, to be honest with him about why she was here, but somehow the moment never arrived.
She did think about him, Peter, though. In the darkness, when Leo was asleep, in quiet moments during the day. She wondered what he was doing, whether he ever thought about her. She thought once about writing to him and telling him about Leo but when she'd tried she couldn't find the words. What was there to say? He'd chosen the priesthood and she'd chosen Leo.
It had been her idea to get married. They'd been talking about what happened when she had to go home and his job was finished and she'd said she didn't want to go home. Leo had told her to stay with him and she'd, jokingly, said that they'd better get married then to which he replied that he'd marry her in a heartbeat if that meant she'd stay with him. She'd laughed initially, assuming he spoke in jest, but when she'd realised he was serious she'd found herself agreeing, saying crazy things like 'let's do this!' and 'as soon as we can!'. It'd been exhilarating in the moment and made her feel alive and wild again.
They got married 28 days later, having given the requisite notice, in a Register Office with two of Leo's colleagues as witnesses. She knew, as she pledged herself to Leo in marriage, that she wasn't strictly in love with him, but she liked him and they had a good time together. She figured that all she needed was some time to finally drive Peter out of her head leaving her free to fall in love with Leo.
"Assumpta? You okay?"
"Yeah, just dealing with the hangover. I'm coming…"
She finished up the water and put the glass quietly into the sink. They got drunk last night because it was their last night in London. Tomorrow they'd fly back to Dublin and from there, once Leo had made arrangements for his flat, they'd travel down to Ballykissangel together. The plan, such as it was, was to live together at the pub and get it ready to sell or lease. Assumpta didn't want to sell if possible; it felt disloyal to her parents. The pub literally bore her name, well, maybe not her name anymore now she was married; she hadn't really thought about that. But still, she didn't think she was ready to get rid of it yet even though she couldn't really imagine Leo wanting to stay in Bally K for very long.
She'd called Niamh yesterday to let her know their plans, and she'd also decided whilst on the phone to tell her that she and Leo were married. Niamh was shocked, then a little disappointed not to have been involved, but fundamentally Niamh thought that marriage made everyone happy so it wasn't hard to convince her that it was it was wildly romantic. Speaking to Niamh made it all the more real that she was going back. She didn't want to go but she knew she had to; she'd been hiding from reality in London and it couldn't last. But the idea of going home, and especially of seeing Peter again, made her feel apprehensive; it was only at moment like this, in the middle of the night, when she dared to admit that there was a chance that she'd feel exactly the same about him when she saw him again as when she'd left.
