Work Text:
Vincent can’t remember the first time he went to church, he was that young. Still an infant at the time. Carried in his mother’s arms. Taken outside when he began to fuss so as not to disturb the parishioners. He knows his baptism was a small affair, but he’s been inside churches nearly every Sunday for as long as he can remember.
The most memorable time, the Sunday that sticks to his mind to his day, is the Sunday two weeks before his eighth birthday. He followed his mother into the church, holding one of her hands while Gary clung to the other. Hazel Moretti was wearing a modest light yellow dress, her heels clacking against the pavement. Vincent and his younger brother were dressed up in their best clothes. Their father was already present at the church, for he had a meeting with the reverend earlier that morning.
One of Vincent’s friends from school, a boy named Thomas, had a sick father, and the family attended the same church. But Thomas and his family wasn’t there today. It was during the morning sermon that Vincent learned why.
Thomas’s father had died.
Vincent knew the man, sort of. He was always bright and cheerful, offering the children sweets when Vincent came over to play. Even as he got visibly sicker and sicker, he continued to smile, even as his eyes grew weary.
The reverend called for the congregation to pray. He told the people to pray that Thomas’s father’s soul found its way to heaven, and to pray for the Willows family, that may they find the light in this difficult time.
Vincent prayed with everyone else. But he remembers wondering, if God was all-powerful, why couldn’t he have prevented Thomas’s father’s death?
Vincent found Carol through the church. She wasn’t as devout, and seemed to only go out of a sense of duty to her family, but Vincent fell for her anyway. It turned out, they went to the same high school. One day, he managed to summon up the courage to ask her out, and she accepted.
As he got older, Vincent stopped attending church regularly. He went maybe once a month, if that. He never lost faith, despite what his mother would sigh—right up until she eventually died. Their father followed soon after. Vincent found himself virtually alone, save for Gary, who continued to attend church, and Carol, his now-wife, who found the whole thing performative. Vincent accepted this.
He went into the police academy, passed with flying colours. Carol bemoaned the dangerous career he’d chosen, but like her husband had accepted her religious viewpoint, she trusted his promise that that he would come home each night.
And then Gary was killed.
The only blood-family he had left in the world was gone. And unlike his parents who had died of natural causes, Gary had been taken young, without warning, in cold blood.
Suddenly nothing else mattered.
Suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking about his old friend’s father. He remembered what he’d thought about it at the time. Of course, now, he knew better. He knew that just because God was all-powerful didn’t mean he intervened in everything, or else no one would ever die.
And yet, Vincent couldn’t help but think, as members of the congregation came up to him to offer condolences at the funeral, telling him that heaven had gained another angel, that Gary was taken “too soon”, that he was with God now…
He couldn’t help but think, why?
He didn’t mean to stop attending church. He was hardly even aware of it, and Carol had to point it out. She also noticed that he wasn’t wearing the cross around his neck anymore.
Vincent’s hand went to his neck. He hadn’t even noticed.
He told her, it had slipped his mind, and besides, it wasn’t part of the police dress code. She gazed at him incredulously but didn’t argue. Vincent kissed her on the cheek and promised to take her out to dinner in the hopes of appeasing her.
“No drinks,” she said coyly, touching her stomach.
Vincent smiled. It was only half-forced.
It was their last dinner out together before Vincent’s plan was put into action.
Vincent steps into the cold, dank prison cell, carrying the clothing he’s expected to wear while within these walls. He puts them on without fuss and the guard yells to close up his cell. With a creak of metal, the door slams shut, and the guard disappears, leaving Vincent alone.
He looks around the cell. A bed, a desk, a toilet, a sink. Basic necessities. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been taking care of the place. But then, why should they? The men in here are criminals. It’s their own decisions that have brought them to this point, and Vincent shouldn’t feel sorry for them.
Yet a small part of him does.
He takes one more gander, and spots the cross on the wall. He freezes. He doesn’t know if it’s a personal item the prisoner before him left behind, or something that the prison just has in every cell. Isn’t sure he cares to know. He stares at it.
It takes effort to tear his eyes away.
He needs to get close to Leo Caruso. Leo is his ticket to Harvey, and his ticket to avenging Gary. But on his first day undercover in the prison, Vincent doesn’t even find Leo. Despite them leaving for breakfast early in the day, he gets lost in the crowd, and Vincent can’t spot him.
At the end of the first day, Vincent kneels next to the bed and presses his palms together. He closes his eyes.
But the prayer he sends for his plan to succeed feels hollow and shallow. He doesn’t feel anything. Except a creeping sensation along the back of his neck that feels more like insects on his skin than the presence of a divine being.
He stops mid-prayer and raises his head. Suddenly, remembering, he turns around.
The cross taunts him from the wall.
He goes to bed staring at it until his eyes begin to burn.
Vincent makes his decision the next day.
He takes the cross off the wall. It’s been there so long it leaves an imprint. He looks around, and places it on the shelf on the furthest wall, tucking it as far back as possible so that it’s out of sight. As he does so, guilt settles sour in his chest.
But he feels better, somehow. Like God isn’t watching anymore.
That night, he kneels in front of the bed and tries again. Maybe it’s selfish to ask God for this after he’s turned his back on Him, but he doesn’t care. Closing his eyes, he makes one last prayer. He prays that Gary has found peace, that he’s made his way to heaven, like so many people said he had.
Vincent prays for this, because he isn’t sure, if he makes it out of this alive, that he’ll be allowed the same.