Sinners and saints (Radiodust saint au)

✧*̥˚ Chapter Seven*̥˚✧

God blessed and fortune favored the parish in a way so few had expected over the years.

It began with Father Ellis stepping down from heading the place, and Father Alastor immediately being offered headship by Archbishop Matthew; or, if he'd rather, relocate to a larger parish in Philadelphia.

Father Alastor accepted headship over his parish, and truly it was HIS. He had every feel of possession over the place, felt entirely responsible for every stone that made it up. And the ideas he had for it were nothing short of praiseworthy.

Angelo was in his custody entirely now, the boy's home solidified in the parish. Even if his parents returned wanting him back, it was out of their hands. Angelo even said that he would run away as many times as it took before they gave up if they tried to take him. There was nowhere else on Earth that Angelo would rather be than by Father Alastor's side.

Much like how Father Alastor had decided at age fourteen, so too did Angelo decide on his future with Father Alastor in the small church of theirs. While Father Alastor insisted on Angelo continuing his education, Angelo still considered himself an acolyte of Father Alastor and the church. Anything and everything Father Alastor had to teach him, he learned and applied with every fiber of his being, just as he'd promised.

Through it all, the plans of expansion in the parish were approved and well under way. Father Alastor wanted to open the doors as a hostel in the expansion for travelers and runaways, having cited his inspiration with Angelo to help even souls that simply pass by.

Volunteers worked hard on the expansion, with Angelo lending a helping hand whenever he could. The boy wanted to be strong enough to aid in whatever endeavor Father Alastor would need of him. He wanted to weed out those whose hands were building a part of the church but would dare to sully it with falling into temptation.

He wanted Father Alastor to be healthy.

There was a noticeable change in Father Alastor's health once meals began being served with pieces of the late James Feldman, even if it was just bone broth or small bits of meat in a stew. James lasted quite a bit tucked away frozen in snow, about halfway through January. Father Alastor's skin retained a healthy glow, his russet eyes brightening and his strength returning.

The hunger of his demon was tempered with each meal.

Eventually, the snow thawed and the remains were dealt with, and there was careful planning for future meals to be had.

And they WERE had.

More to be had, even, once the expansion was complete.

No one ever said that doing the Lord's work would be easy. Those who did were in such a high place of blasphemous privilege it bordered on sacrilege. To serve was to suffer, and to be grateful for it.

Angelo sometimes felt like he'd done his suffering before he even knew what his purpose was supposed to be. He attracted men, and now being older, found that some women were being attracted his way too. He didn't want their looks, their touches, their kisses their bodies pressed against his own, no matter how euphoric it felt, no matter how much it sated that demon inside of him. That WAS him.

At least that long-limbed creature had the decency to take over and not let him experience what he didn't want to. Ironic and sad that even demons could have more compassion than the pieces of shit humans who would put their hands on a child.

He could remember when it first happened. He was eleven, and his teacher was paying far too close attention to him, keeping him after classes. He remembered being touched before being enveloped by the demon's arms and shielded aside, almost watching from the inside out as his teacher defiled his body. He felt no pain, only pleasure, and his grades suddenly improved.