Small flash fics dedicated to the characters and relationships of the Midnight Mass miniseries, written with the help of the special words of Writober 2021 ♥
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(Riley Flynn - Monsignor Pruitt / Father Paul Hill)
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The first time Riley met Monsignor Pruitt, he actually doesn't even remember him. But there is a yellowed photograph on the living room furniture, the one behind the sofa, which leaves no room for doubts. Because yes, in that photo so old, which is over thirty, Riley is not even a year old and Crockett's priest - the one you remember - holds him in his arms next to a tub of marble where he just baptized it.
Monsignor Pruitt, Riley, has always remembered him as old: the white beard, the hair a bit long, never so well cared for, yet they never gave him a messy look and then that smile and cordiality which, in some way, contributed to the his happiness when he was a child.
No, he does not remember the day of his baptism, he can only relive it in his memories and, every time he returned to Crockett, in those two years spent on the other side of the sea before that tragedy that ruined his life, Monsignor Pruitt, in those rare cases where he remembered him, talked to him as if it were the day before. With a smile so sweet and nostalgic that it always hurt his heart.
«You were so small, and now look at you! What are you doing over there? Your father tries to explain it to me but I have the feeling that he didn't understand it either. "
Riley smiles and walks over, because Monsignor Pruitt doesn't even hear very well anymore, even if it is hard for him to admit it.
"I don't know if I could explain it to you, father."
"It does not matter. The important thing is that you are happy. I'm sorry not to see you in church anymore, but He is with you. All time. I pray for you. You're a smart guy, I've always said that. I am sure. Always believe in yourself and in our lord. Do you believe it Riley? Do you still believe it? Like when you were a child? "
Riley's smile fades. They are sitting on a bench in that green grass square where Crock Pot Luck is organized at Easter - Monsignor Pruitt's favorite holiday - and the sun is so hot that it is almost unbearable, yet the priest is wearing a woolen jacket and has his hands that tremble. No, it's not the cold, it's Parkinson's. He is over eighty and every time Riley comes back he sees him worse and worse and the thing inside him hurts. For that he lies, and pretends that God still accompanies him in that life. Who has never stopped believing, not even once, and instead since he moved to New York he left his faith in Saint Patrick, and did not want to take it with him.
As if it somehow belonged to Father Pruitt and not to him. As if he had entrusted it to him to take it back every time he goes back there to visit his parents.
