For Catholics, Confirmation is one of the most sacred sacraments—the sacrament of receiving the gifts of the Holy Spirit. But during the path of receiving such gifts, one must select a sponsor to help guide them spiritually. When Charlie decides upon this commitment, he knows who he wants to select to have an honor such as this.

Theodore:

Catholics said Theodore Stratelates was a patron saint for warriors, a martyr who was often confused with Theodore of Amasea. Amasea was a dragon slayer. Stratelates slayed a sea serpent. But it was agreed that they both were saints for warriors, fighters, people who were slain because they fought for the little guy and were devoted to their faith in Christ.

So, when Charlie was offered the chance to complete RCIA and receive confirmation (he'd received Holy Communion in second grade but had to eventually quit CCD classes because his mother couldn't afford it), he took up studying it, using his paychecks that he'd earned from the skate shop to pay for his confirmation classes, which he dutifully went to every Sunday throughout the second half of his freshman year at Eden Hall, determined to catch up.

Now, at fifteen years old, in the spring of his sophomore year, the Eden Hall Varsity Ducks captain stood in the pews of the church he'd grown up going to with his mother, where his mother insisted he serve as an alter boy from ages five to seven. He was finally getting the chance to do what his other friends had done in the eighth grade, but had been unable to due to the financial burden it had been on his mother.

However, when the time came for him to choose his sponsor, he could only pick one. Ted knew that it must've been a decision the kid had wrestled with for months, knowing he'd have to pick someone who wasn't his mother – he didn't have any relatives who he could call and ask; his mother was an only child, so as a result, he didn't have godparents or anyone else.

When Ted walked into his office one afternoon before Varsity practice started, he'd found a piece of paper and a sticky note on his desk. When he looked closely at it, he recognized Charlie's handwriting:

Would you?

Underneath the sticky note was the document to ask for permission to be one's confirmation sponsor. Those two words, would you, seemingly yelled at him, begging him to honor this one request, but it went beyond a request – it was Charlie allowing him to fill such an important role, a role that would normally be given to an uncle or an aunt or an older sibling or a godparent, something Charlie had been sorely deprived of for years.

It wasn't that Ted wasn't honored, per se. He'd thought that Charlie would've asked Gordon since he'd known Bombay longer. But then Ted recalled that Gordon had never completed confirmation, that that had been around the time that Gordon was so focused on winning and only winning; he'd given up hockey and refused to play for the Warriors, instead throwing himself into the debate team fulltime with aspirations of becoming an attorney. After Bombay's dad died, it seemed that anything he cared about seemed to die as well. Ted was certain that Bombay had fallen out of faith sometime after the loss of his father, to the point where he was purely agnostic, unless, somehow, that changed – he'd told Ted the day he'd asked him to take over coaching that Charlie and the Ducks had helped him regain some faith again. But that didn't mean anything. Bombay wasn't qualified to be anyone's confirmation sponsor, yet Ted had to fight with the church tooth and nail to let him name Bombay the godfather of baby Teddy (though the church referred to Bombay as a "Christian witness" to the baptism, but for Ted, Bombay was Teddy's godfather at heart).

It was one of the many reasons why Ted disagreed with the Catholic church's standards – their rules about who could be a godparent; who could sponsor a kid for confirmation were archaic, but Ted wasn't about to tell the church that; he'd gotten his kids baptized so they had a sense of some tradition, but it was up to them whether they'd want to follow the faith as they got older, something he'd never had a choice in.

But when he'd received the permission form for being a confirmation sponsor for Charlie, he didn't hesitate to sign his name on the dotted line and leave it behind in Charlie's Varsity locker with a reply to his note:

Of course, I would.

Charlie's choice was symbolic of his truly becoming a man.

It was now time for Charlie's row to rise and approach the priest and the bishop. Ted walked alongside him, watching as Charlie nervously wrung his hands together; they were practically cloaked underneath the robes as he slowly walked up to face the bishop, who turned to Ted.

"What is the candidate's saintly name?"

"Theodore," Ted replied, leaning one hand against Charlie's shoulder. His lips curved upward into a smile as he remembered Charlie had chosen the name and why. It was fitting that he chose the saint's name, which also happened to be Ted's name, an honor Ted never expected, but was incredibly proud of, knowing in the past year that he'd earned Charlie's respect enough for Charlie to pick "Theodore" as his confirmation name.

"Do you promise to continue to support this young man in his journey as he walks through faith?"

"I do," Ted said firmly, his right hand just as firm on Charlie's left shoulder as they stood there before the bishop and the priest, who blessed Charlie with the sacred sacrament of confirmation, the time when a Catholic received another gift from the Holy Spirit.

Ted smiled a little wider, watching as the bishop dipped his fingers into the oil, drawing the sign of the cross on Charlie's forehead as he said, "Theodore, be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen," Charlie whispered back.

"May peace be with you," said the bishop.

"And with your spirit," Charlie replied, his voice trembling with nerves as the priest finished drawing the oil on his forehead.

The bishop nodded back with a gentle smile, and Charlie bowed his head slightly before returning to his seat, where Ted sat beside him as they watched the rest of the candidates receive the sacrament. From the corner of his eye, Ted could see Charlie's eyes misting slightly, and he knew that somewhere on the other side of the church, Casey and Gordon were most likely crying from the sheer joy that Charlie had completed this stage – a graduation of sorts where a Catholic fully received one of the final sacraments and that he'd made this choice; he went through with it on his own, and because he did it on his own rather than complete it in eighth grade like Ted and many others did, Ted felt that Charlie would be better off for it, because nobody made the decision for him. He'd taken the time to complete community service by coaching the Ducks Mites team after school, he'd completed the interviews and studied for hours, and it all accumulated to this.

They continued sitting there, listening to the rest of the ceremony and speaking when told they could. Finally, the bishop gave the final blessing and had them all rise – Charlie was officially confirmed.

Ted felt the pride balloon in his chest as he and Charlie went down to the church basement so that Charlie could remove the robes and head upstairs for photos. Once they were downstairs, Ted watched as Charlie all too willingly removed the robes – not that he could blame him; he recalled the itchiness of the tags on the back of his neck when he'd completed confirmation with Hans as his sponsor.

Underneath, Charlie wore a dress shirt, tie, and custom-tailored suit (paid for by Bombay, of course – nothing was going to stop Bombay from contributing somehow to Charlie's confirmation ceremony even though he couldn't be the sponsor). But the smile he wore was one of pride in this accomplishment that he'd done what he thought would be impossible.

Ted didn't quite know what to say. But he hoped this gesture he was about to display would convey all he wanted to say. He reached into his jacket pocket for the gift that he'd purchased a month or so ago, sometime after Charlie had asked him to be his sponsor. It wasn't anything fancy, but he knew the look on Charlie's face would be well worth it.

From his jacket, he drew the velvet box, watching as Charlie went bright red – he still wasn't used to receiving anything expensive from anyone, even if it was from Bombay or Adam; he felt guilt over people spending a lot of money on him instead of grateful. He supposed part of that came from growing up with a single mother who worked all the time and had to choose between giving him nice things and putting food on the table.

"Don't worry about the price," Ted insisted to him. "Just open it."

Charlie's face burned even more as he opened the box with shaking fingers; what he saw nestled inside it elicited a gasp from him as he slowly pulled out the wooden cross, which hung on a thin chain – it wasn't solid gold or silver, but the workmanship alone made it one of the kind, and unlike anything Charlie had ever owned – sure, he had the signet ring Bombay had given to him around the time of his thirteenth birthday, but this was something Ted knew would represent not only Charlie completing confirmation – it represented him growing and maturing into an adult who was going to do many incredible things.

Ted watched as the tears shone in Charlie's eyes before he whispered, "You're the real Minnesota Miracle Man," repeating what Gordon had told him of the boy almost two years ago when he talked to Ted about taking over. "And I know this is just the beginning, and we can expect many great things from you. So, keep being that man, Charlie. Be that man."

A/N: I remember my own Confirmation ceremony; I'd received it when I was fourteen, but that was because I completed all those years of CCD classes and I didn't attend a Catholic school. But I do remember it to be such a special day for my family and one that's supposed to symbolize one becoming a young man or young woman as you near young adulthood - it represents you accepting responsibility and understanding what it means to mature; my uncle was my sponsor and I remember the process of being interviewed by my bishop and picking my saint name that I would go by during the ceremony, and if I could do it all over again, I would.

I also took the time to look up that there is such a thing as Saint Theodore. I just wanted to write something that captured how I felt when I went through the ceremony; it was a day that felt like a different kind of graduation in of itself, and one I was proud of having completed after completing community service and doing everything I needed to do, and I never felt forced to do it; the older I got, the more I realized I wanted it.