question everything (( Peterick oneshots ))

and i swear there's a ghost on this island

"Welcome to Sunday mass. You may rise."

The people in the pews stand up, silence gracing the room. There's an uneasy feeling in the church. The windows leave traces of dim glares on porcelain skin.

It's cold.

The only noise silent song and slow foot steps. Father walks to the front of the church, alter servers following him.

They bow, then Father remaining where he was, the alter servers pace away.

Father looks at the people in pews with hooded eyes. He glares.

Solemn, tired eyes look back. Some people not even looking up.

"In him and with him—oh god almighty father."

Father stands alone. He faces the people.

A bat flies threw the church, squeaking and fluttering its wings. It ducks, sways.

Everyone looks up in fear. Screams erupt the church, echoes of fear apparent.

They run, they all run.

Father's face scrunches up into a gear of rage.

Soon enough everyone has gone, and Father is left all alone with the flying creature.

"PATRICK ."

Father yells, and the bat swoops down in front of him. It lands on the ground in front of him.

It freezes, time swirling around it. The small black animal shifts and forms into a boy.

A teenage boy.

Brown hair, silver lip ring. His pale skin glows in the creaks on the stain glass window light. He cringes from the brightness surrounding him. Blue eyes squinted, dressed in full black. He hisses. Fangs where regular teeth should be.

Father keeps a solid face.

"Why are you here."

Patrick scoffs.

"Why am I here?"

Father rolls his eyes, loosing his tough look a bit.

"You should be six feet under. You died. Your soul should be in heaven."

Patrick cringes a bit.

"I went to hell."

"You what?"

"I'm a sinner, Pe-"

"Father."

Patrick looks mad and confused, then rolls his eyes the same way Father did before.

"I'm a sinner, Father," Patrick looks down, "I went down...to hell. You would have when you died too, but I see you've...changed your ways."

Father grips the cross around his neck. He breathes out heavy.

"Why are you here."

Patrick flinches at the cross.

"I...I miss you," Father looks stone-faced, "I wanted to see you again—remind you who you are."

"I'm not the same man I was when I was with you, Patrick. I'm better now...you made me sick. You filled my mind with polluted, sinful thoughts."

Father spits out the words with no remorse, not regret.

"Pe-"

"FATHER."

"PETE, PLEASE."

Father eyebrow knit together, lip pulled into a frown. His hands grips tighter on the cross. He walks towards Patrick, anger in ever loud step.

Patrick walks backwards, fear in his eyes, with ever step Father takes towards him.

"Pete, please..." Patrick has a tear run down his face, wiping it away quickly.

Father grabs Patrick by the front of his cloak. Patrick tries to get out of Father's hold, but Father just raises the cross around his neck to Patrick.

"PETE, PLEASE!" Patrick cries.

Father breaks a bit, he tries to hold back his tears.

"I'm sorry, Trick." He says shaky.

Father presses the cross to Patrick forehead.

The life drains from Patrick's eyes, he collapses on the floor. Tear-stained face shining. He sinks into the sound—the sound of Lucifer calling him back home.

And then he's gone.

And then Father falls to his knees crying.

"I'm so sorry, P-Patrick..."

And he means it.