Fianlly, after such a long pause I managed to finish this story. I'm so sorry for the long wait, but this was the first and last chance to write for a while, so I had to take it. This story is over, but there's plenty of room to continue it if I ever have the time. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Happy reading!

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There were too many people around them, at least for Tomas' taste. He was always a people person, happy to be surrounded by friends, family, parishioners, even the homeless. He loved people, and yet now he felt somehow wary of them. Crowds were dangerous in that way, too many possible threats to be accounted for. Tomas hated himself for thinking of people that way, but the mindset was hard to shake off, thus he felt edgy in the crowded airport, snow falling in shovels outside, wind howling around the corners of the huge building and, of course, travelers and personnel flowing in a steady stream around them both. That was one more thing to get used to, there was a them now, piercing the stream of strangers side by side.

Married. Technically.

Well, at least for a pretense, but it still affected him greatly. The previous evening Tomas had a little panic over the whole matter, but Marcus managed to take the new information in stride and drag Tomas along. He still had problems with the new names, though. It just felt weird...Fake. Marcus was Marcus. It just felt wrong to call him anything else. He tired time and again and it wouldn't roll off his tongue without a stutter, so they came to a solution. Remembering that made the younger man blush brightly in the middle of an escalator ride.

"I can't do it. I'll just start laughing or mix it up! It's ridiculous, Marcus." Tomas complained, the pitch of his voice rising exponentially. The wicked smile on Marcus' face was not helping. "No. Don't look at me like that! It's dangerous!"

"What do you propose then? Call it off, leave Bennett in Rome and just go along with our merry lives?" The words may have been biting, but there was less malice and more teasing his voice.

"No! No...of course not...just I will fail to, to...act properly, it won't be fluent. I will forget or..." It was slowly spinning into panic. He could handle demons, God knew he could by now, he even managed to deal with dead bodies and other pleasant points of being an exorcist, but lying was still hard. It nearly ate him alive during the Rance case, and then he only had to omit the truth mostly, twist it a little bit. This requires straight out lying. Feeling his heart rate go up and his hands start to tremble a little Tomas turned, ready to start pacing but hands on his shoulders caught him in place.

"Hold up, hold up. Tomas, love, it'll be alright. Hear me?" Marcus was holding him firmly in place, hands sliding up to cup his jaw and make Tomas look up at him. When he finally did, there was a strange light in those blue orbs - like he could actually see a light bulb lighting up in his partners mind, followed by a slow, indulgent grin. Damn but it was almost hot enough to make him forget the whole ordeal. Almost.

"I have an idea." Marcus declared, still grinning madly.

"I'm sure you do." Tomas' tone was more than a little skeptical, but when did that ever stop Marcus?

"Do you have a word you call me in your head sometimes? Y'know, like a sweet nothing, something like...like an endearment?"

Oh this was even worse...Did he have one? Sure. But saying it out loud...He could feel his skin heating up and tried to force it out, but Marcus beat him to it.

"I call you love, y'know. It's common enough and doesn't sound like much, but it just... comes so easily when I think of you. I guess it means I mean it." There was such vivid, almost vulnerable honesty on Marcus' face, it made him look ten years younger at least. Tomas couldn't help but smile.

"Cariño. It's what I call you. It means..."

"I know what it means." Marcus said "I'm hardly all that sweet, but I like it." His smile turned a little crooked and Tomas could practically see the insecurities creeping in. Sweetie. It really did fit, because despite his somewhat jagged edges Marcus was the sweetest, gentlest human being he'd ever met and now, it seems, was the time to prove it.

"Then I'll call you that way until you believe it." He concluded as he rose up a bit to kiss the beautiful, stubborn man of his life. "Cariño." he whispered indulgently "Mi cariño."

Marcus' smile quivered a little before he bumped his forehead into Tomas' and whispered "It's a plan, then."

The clerk at the window was giving them a funny look as it was their turn to check in.

"One at a time, please, sir." He said politely towards Marcus and decided to take on Tomas first, clearly due to the walking cane. He'd replaced the crutch with it to draw less attention - and against doctor's orders, too. Even Marcus was somewhat impressed, though he argued against it ferociously.

"It's alright, love. Go ahead. You might as well get a seat afterwards, I'll get our bags." Marcus interrupted before Tomas even had a chance to open his mouth.

"But your arm!" He protested none the less. The clerk was getting more and more confused, until he saw two identical silver bands on their fingers. The particular moment he put all the dots into a line could be pinpointed with the precision of milliseconds. Marcus grinned broadly at the man's carefully blank expression. The rings were a last moment decision, for accuracy of the pretense (or so they said out loud), but both knew it made them feel like actually creating a bond, putting a sign of possession onto each other for all the world to see.

They had a flight from John F. Kennedy airport to London Heathrow and then had to change planes to get to Rome. They knew all that, but the man had to remind them anyway, so he reached his hand out for Marcus' ticket as well.

"Well, in that case, I could take your ticket too, sir. To spare the time."

"Sure, thanks, you're a star." The exorcist thanked with a winning grin and they went through the check-in smoothly and on time. Unfortunately that was the only part that they accomplished on time. When both men finally stumbled into the duty-free area to wait for a call to their gate the snow was still blanketing the ground and filling the air to the point there was little visibility...which meant no flights will take off anytime soon. Trust climate change to give you the middle finger just when you need it least. And sure enough, when Marcus checked the billboard, most upcoming flights were marked as delayed.

They got coffee.

Sat and watched the crowd.

Tomas snoozed on Marcus' shoulder for a good half an hour and their flight was still marked as delayed.

After three long hours of waiting, the snow finally let up and they got off the ground. After more than a week of sleeping four hours a night on pins and needles they happily slept, ate and dozed some more, cuddling up to each other for comfort as much as possible. Tomas smelled like coffee and warm male body, which made Marcus want to wrap himself around him and sleep for days. So he did, waking up briefly, here and there, when the aircraft shook. Once he caught a young woman in a oversized sweater and a bun of dark hair atop her head smiling at them like they were a basket full of kittens. A few people gave them dirty looks, but not one person said a word. Marcus still remembered times when there would have been a riot and was grateful they were in the past, more or less. Passive aggression was at least better than active aggression.

When they touched ground in London it was four hours too late for their connecting flight to Rome, so the pleasant young stewardess kept apologizing and piling voucher after voucher onto Tomas' outstretched hand. There was no flight until mid morning tomorrow, so the airlines even made the effort to get them a hotel room to spend the night and a free taxi ride to boost. It wasn't that late yet and the weather was decent, so upon exiting Tomas grasped Marcus' elbow and gently asked "Do you want to go straight to the hotel or wander around a little? It's probably been a while since you were back home?"

"I'd rather not. That leg of yours could use some time up on a pillow, and if I'm all that honest, I don't think it's a home for me any more. I was born here, but it holds very few good memories. 's just a country, like any other."

"If you're sure...But It might still be nice to not be in a motel room for a little longer. And I was sitting the whole flight, so maybe think about it?" Tomas knew he was fishing, and his leg was starting to hurt, but it felt like a crime not to use this small moment of peace between battles. One they already won and another one is still coming. Another problem they'll have to face at the gates to Vatican city is the question of where do they stand. The shiny rings were going to be hidden in their pockets, his collar will be back, tight around his neck...and Tomas was starting to wonder if he can manage to be married both to God and to Marcus at the same time. It was a tangle of barbed wire he didn't want to face yet, so a distraction would be nice. Still, he wasn't going to push Marcus.

"Alright, alright, we'll go out. But how 'bout we settle in first? Drop our things off and then we'll see?" Marcus seemed to be in an indulgent mood, one of his better ones, so the chances were good he's going to get his afternoon out.

"Sure."

Marcus fully expected a crappy little abode with barely any space to move, hidden away in some back corner of the hotel, but the room was big enough and sunny too. It even had a bathroom for disabled people. The stewardess must have considered Tomas' situation, bless her heart. It had only one king sized bed, and why would it not, by the books they were a married couple. It still felt like some kind of crime, to shackle someone like Tomas to someone like Marcus. The old ball and chain, quite literally. Old, rusty and dragging him down, that's what Marcus felt like as they walked through the door to their room and Tomas went to wash up a bit. What do I do if he decides he doesn't want to sleep in the same bed? There's only one now. It was ridiculous and he knew it. Tomas slept in the same bed with him even when there were two available, but the doubts still kept creeping in. He was beautiful, even after hours and hours spent crammed into an airplane seat. The dark hair were messy and more curly now, after Tomas ran wet hands through them. The scruff on his jaw was getting deliciously rough, just enough to feel good rubbing against his cheek...or other places. Like the insides of his thighs, for example. That one thought made his neck burn up and Marcus quickly looked away, burrowing into his bag for some semi-clean and somewhat presentable clothing. If Tomas wants an evening out, so help him God, Marcus is going to give him one.

They had discount vouchers for a lot of the shops located in the same building complex as the hotel and a brochure of the services they offered. It was large enough building, equipped with a bar, two restaurants, a spa area, and a whole array of shops. He called and booked dinner for seven in the evening, but for now, Marcus had to figure out what to do. The spa would be nice, but Tomas' cast won't tolerate water. They were pretty far away from down town, all the paces with good bars and what not. It would be quite a ride, but still...

"I can hear the wheels spinning." Tomas commented offhandedly as he strode, well more like shuffled, up to his bag in nothing but his dark blue denim. That made Marcus' brain glitch for a moment.

"What?"

"The wheels in your head. I can hear them turning. You have that look on you face." he clarified.

"What look?"

"Like you're mildly in pain but too lazy to do anything about it." Tomas was smiling brightly, a little teasingly, down at him. "Would you like to tell your husband what your problem is? Maybe I could help?"

"Now you're happy to use the title?"

"I might abuse the...privilege? while I can." Those beautiful brown eyes were twinkling, bright and vivacious. He had to admire the resilience. A year ago he would have thought the first loss, the first battle would brake this kind and gentle man, but now he knew better. Tomas was gentle and he was kind, but he was also the most stubborn, die-hard human being Marcus has ever met. And he was his.

"I've been thinking where to go for the afternoon. There ain't all that many bars around and it's a bit early for that. I called for a dinner later, around seven, but..."

"We don't have to go anywhere special. Actually I've been thinking...They gave us all these vouchers, with some pretty good discounts...and I've been living in these jeans for a year. Also there's one for a free toothbrush and you really need to change yours. How long have you had it? A decade?"

"You want to get me a toothbrush?" Marcus stared up at Tomas not fully computing how that would be considered a fun activity.

"Amongst other things. Only if you want to, of course...We could go look for a bar. "

"No, no. I'd rather stay in this building so we can go back here if your leg gets tired."

"Alright, so let's go and have a look. We don't even have to buy anything, but God knows, for once we have the money for it. Cody pays awfully well."

"And they say the church is rich." Marcus smiled wryly as he got up to head for the bathroom. It probably won't be of much use, but it's still better not to stink. And his good shirt, the denim one, was even clean this time.

"Oh they are, it's just used on paintings with golden frames, not dirty old exorcists." Tomas voice followed him into the white and blue bathroom. Marcus had to laugh out loud.

The shopping area of the complex was well lit, clean and sparking with Christmas lights already. Business starts to rile up customers early. All the people moving around looked well off, decently dressed and immersed in their phones. This was the normal world, the one everyone else lived in, with no dusty roads, blood spattered shirts and nights spend awake on coffee and adrenaline. Usually he would have scoffed and sneered at it all, but for once, just for this one evening, Marcus thought it would be nice to be part of it. Just for a moment. To know what it feels like to be normal, to have a place in a world like this, not look like a bum, who just walked in to maybe get some spare change. Tomas hand slipped into the crook of his elbow and held on, big and warm palm wrapped around his forearm.

"Let's start small. Why don't we get that toothbrush?" He steered Marcus into something like a convenience store, with everything but the kitchen sink on the shelves. They got a toothbrush. And some fancy salt for the bath. Some new razors, shaving gel, and a little bag for Marcus to keep it all in. He felt like it was an overkill, Marcus didn't usually spent half as much on self care, but Tomas seemed happy about it, so he didn't argue. Maybe, just maybe, if felt a tinge nice to have someone pamper him a bit. That was until they got to one of the clothes stores. A posh one, too. The young woman roaming around noticed them pretty quickly and zeroed in on the two rings on their hands so fast Marcus was almost sorry to have bought them.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Can I help you?"She smiled broadly at them both.

"I think so, yes. Could you direct us to the men's clothes area?" Tomas smiled at her charmingly.

"Sure thing. That would be to your left. Maybe I could help you choose? Are you looking for something for yourself or your husband?"

That seemed to throw Tomas off his game for a second, but he recovered pretty fast.

"Both of us, maybe?"

"Let's just stick with clothing the handsome one." Marcus threw Tomas a stern look, but the young woman only giggled.

"And which one would that be? Because let me tell you that offstage rock star look is working just fine for me, if you don't mind me saying."

He had to stare for a second. She was joking, right? Tomas burst out laughing beside him. He smiled at Marcus so blindingly the exorcist thought he might need sunglasses.

"That makes the two of us." Tomas finally said, still beaming. All the warning looks Marcus tried his best to throw at Tomas seemed to bounce right off and he was starting to panic.

"Alright, what would you like to start with? Anything specific you're looking for?"

"A pair of jeans for me, maybe." Relief flooded Marcus hearing those words. Maybe he was off the hook after all?

"Alright, gents I'll be right back."

She brought Tomas innumerable pairs of jeans from baby blue, to crimson, to black and eventually he settled on a dark gray pair that hugged the curve of his arse just so. She paired it with a dark blue shirt. Marcus had to look away a few times not to get horny in a shop. Just great. That mood faded away fast when the wicked little clerk turned her eagle eye on him.

"And what can I get for you?"

"Nothing, darlin' I'm good." He tried his broadest grin, but it didn't seem to work. She was looking sideways at Tomas.

"How about we put on a little show for your husband, what do you think, sir? I think he'll appreciate it. I'll keep your style in mind, just hold on a second." she said before disappearing down the lines of clothes.

"Right, this is our chance to beat it." Marcus whispered urgently, almost dragging Tomas by his elbow. The problem was the big lump wasn't moving an inch.

"Let us have some fun. Your clothes are falling apart, it's only reasonable to get a few new ones. You told me you want me to enjoy the afternoon and I would really like it if you would get something nice for yourself. Just this once. Do it for me? Please?" He was so honest, so sincere in his desire to care for Marcus it broke all defenses down within a blink of an eye. Before he could so much as argue his case a little further, the girl came back with a bunch of clothes. Well. It was more like a mountain. She deposited it in the changing cabin with cheery abandon and shooed him right in.

"Come on, in you go. I have some pretty lovely ideas for you to try on."

The girl, her name was Sarah according to name tag, left him with a pair of jeans that seemed too small and a pale blue-gray sweater he would have never considered to get, just because it would get dirty really quickly. He tried to put a leg in and stopped midway. Surely jeans shouldn't be that tight?

"Err, Sarah, sweetheart, I think these are a bit too small."

"No I'm sure it's the right size. Let's see." She squeezed him in and didn't even blink an eye. "It's a slim fit, that's why the leg is a little tighter, but you have such a lovely figure, all tall and lean, so you could use it. This will make that man of yours really happy, you'll see." Sarah, the clerk from hell, pushed him right out in front of Tomas. Marcus didn't dare to look up. He felt ridiculous, all gangly and old, stuffed into some fancy hip clothes. And Tomas just stood there as he fidgeted in the tight jeans and pulled the hem of the sweater down over and over. After what felt like eons he resigned to look up and found Tomas biting his lip, amusement dancing like fireworks in his dark eyes.

"That really looks good. Maybe try a few more?" Please was implied in the very tone and somehow Marcus couldn't say no. So he put on whatever was laid out before him and Tomas' eyes seemed to get darker with every new outfit. Eventually they settled on a wool and leather jacket, black jeans (a bit too tight for Marcus' liking) and a minimalist crimson sweater. They stuffed their old rags into a bag and walked right out in all of that. It felt like being part of a masquerade and it sent a thrill up Marcus' spine. Just for one night he could be someone else. Someone in nice, clean clothes with a charming husband on his arm and a nice evening to look forward to.

"Let's go back to our room." Tomas whispered into his ear and slung a hand around his waist like it was nothing.

"Why? Is your led acting up?"

"No, but I want to clean up before dinner." That was a vague answer if there ever was one, considering there were like two hours left before dinner, but if Tomas wanted to rest, why would he say no?

It turned out Tomas didn't exactly want to rest his leg. First thing he did back in their room was to run Marcus a bath with the nice smelling lavender and something or other bath salt. And then kiss him until he couldn't be sure what language he was thinking in at the moment.

"Tomas, Tomas, what's this about?" He managed to ask pulling away an inch. The warm hands lingering on the small of his back made him more than a little distracted.

"I want you to clean up before dinner."

"Could've taken a shower..."

Tomas nuzzled his neck, that rough texture of stubble scratching against sensitive skin there and Marcus nearly moaned.

"I've never been with a man before. I want to see your body, to touch it, to learn it. Will you let me?" Tomas' breath was tickling his ear in a very sensual way and the blonde felt himself getting half hard at the thought alone.

"There's not much to see..."

"I would still like to bathe you." He said it as if it was the most natural request in the world. Not one soul bathed him since he was six. "Please? I'll just wash your back, and maybe your hair, since it's hard with one arm."

Tomas made it all seem like a treat of some kind so he gave in, still a little dizzy from the surreal situation. The younger exorcist found some old jazz playlist on his phone while Marcus undressed and then sat in the the tub. Feeling self conscious the blonde held his knees close to his chest, to show off the least amount of his scars, though he knew Tomas probably has seen them before. His saint of a lover didn't reprimand him, just sat on the edge of the tub and squeezed the sponge with warm water over his back again and again. When the palm came to glide up and down his spine he felt too comfortable to care and the little neck massage was getting him a little boneless.

"Cariño, lay back for me?" Tomas' voice sounded low and a little rough, like gravel. Somewhere in the background Ella Fitzgerald was singing about the foolish things that remind us of our loved ones and he went down without protest. Tomas's strong palm held the back of his neck as he dipped Marcus' head into the water and then lathered his short hair with shampoo, massaging it with steady, sure movements. Marcus felt like ice cream on a warm summer day - soggy and melting by the minute. His hair was rinsed and a soaped up sponge started it's path along his back, over his arms and neck. Then Tomas gently pushed him to lie down and the sponge continued along Marcus's chest only to be replaced by hands. Warm, water slick skin slid slowly over his collarbones and down the small indent between his pecks only to come around to tiny, rose pink nipples.

"Does this work?" Tomas asked tweaking one nipple experimentally "It feels good for women but I don't know if it works for men..."

Marcus gasped barely audibly and squeezed his eyes shut "Mhm..."

Seeming to like the answer Tomas took his time playing with the rosy buds, turning in slow circles around them, pinching and pulling a little bit until Marcus was little more than a whimpering mess, all needy and fully hard under the water. When those wonderful, torturous hands slid down his belly, brushing his ribs and swirling playfully around his bellybutton Marcus was nearly ready to beg.

"Marcus, can I touch you there?" The beloved voice whispered gently, bestowing a kiss upon his wet temple, and then another one on his forehead, then the tip of his nose...Marcus nearly forgot he's supposed to answer. "Marcus?"

"Please..."

A firm, hot palm wrapped around him in a second and Marcus' hips involuntarily bucked into that tight hold. "Christ..." he whispered biting his lips raw.

"Tell me how you like it. Show me how to please you?" Tomas whispered beside him as his hand slid slowly up and down the length of Marcus' cock. He would have laughed, but the thought that it was Tomas' hand on him, squeezing him, stroking him, brought the former priest so close to shooting it came out as a chocked sob.

"It...It won't take much finesse, 'm so close, just touch me...touch me, please..." he pleaded half delirious. And Tomas did. He stroked firmly and agonizingly slowly, playing with the crown for long moments, as if exploring it, running his fingertip over the slit, and wandering all the way down to squeeze the root. He seemed to be in no hurry and Marcus could barely breathe, so he finally dared to open his eyes and look up. Tomas eyes were dark with lust, they looked so hungry, so full of desire it made Marcus moan out loud "Oh God, please...faster, love, just...just a bit faster..." Obeying the command Tomas' hand sped up, ruining the last smithereens of sane thought Marcus may have had left. He couldn't control the inarticulate sounds that seemed to flow out of his mouth any longer and the only thing he could see was Tomas face, with those dark eyes and a flush high up his cheeks...and then the world went white.

He came down slowly, boneless and relaxed, floating in the warm water and feeling of safety. He knew Tomas was still beside him because his hand was running through Marcus' hair slowly, indulgently, with all the time to spare.

"Welcome back." he smiled sweetly as Marcus opened his eyes and the former priest suddenly wanted to cry. What did he ever do to deserve this? To have someone treat him like this? "You're beautiful when you come."

"I...I love you." It was not what he meant to say but it just tumbled out.

"I love you too." There wasn't even a hitch in Tomas' voice, it came out so naturally Marcus had to envy it. "Do you want help drying off?"

"I...er...It'be nice..." he finished lamely and got up. Tomas wrapped him in a towel, rubbed his back and his arms, kissing his shoulder as he did so. It took Marcus a second to notice the rather large bulge in Tomas' new jeans. Feeling heady with desire and all too bold he grabbed Tomas' hips and pushed him back to sit on the edge of the tub again.

"Marcus?"

Tomas was still riding the high of having Marcus writhing under his hands, watching him come undone, when the man in question pushed him to sit down. It took a moment to process what was happening when Marcus suddenly kneeled between his spread thighs, those strikingly bright blue eyes looking up at him.

"You don't have to do this. It's fine." He tried to reassure stroking Marcus' cheeks and trying to get him to stand back up, but the stubborn man undid his zipper instead.

"I want to. So much. I want to taste you." he whispered looking up pleadingly and Tomas couldn't say no. He wanted it just as much. The real Marcus was so different from his vision Marcus - he was shy and a little submissive, supple and sensitive. Responsive, though he tried to hide it, and so easy to please. It grounded Tomas in more than one way. And now those precious turquoise eyes were looking up at him, asking for permission.

"Anything. Anything you want. I'm yours, remember?" Tomas whispered smiling and gladly lifted his hips up to let Marcus drag his jeans down. When a pink tongue came out and happily proceeded to cat-lick the head of his cock Tomas thought he'll expire right then. He gripped the edge of the tub and counted to ten in German to stop himself.

"Lord almighty...Marcus!" That only seemed to make him bolder, and he wrapped those pale pink lips around Tomas shaft, sinking a little deeper with every slide. Placing a hand gently in the soft tawny blonde hair Tomas started to pet it and tried to control his breathing at the same time. It's been a while since he's been so turned on by anyone and now he was desperate to feel that velvet heat of Marcus' mouth surround him, but then he felt Marcus gag and cough a little bit. He pulled his lover off and tilted his chin up to look at Tomas.

"Not too much, mi cariño, just as much as you can, it feels wonderful." There are plenty of men who would enjoy watching someone chocking on their dick, but Tomas was not one of them. He stroked Marcus cheek for a second to emphasize his point and then let him go. The maddening little licks resumed and Marcus' hand slid down to play with his balls, squeezing and massaging the soft orbs until Tomas was gasping for air. Probably feeling how close Tomas was he sucked the head into his mouth and set a punishing rhythm on the rest of it, hand slick with spit and Tomas' precome. Tomas' whole body tensed, toes curling on the cold tile floor and then he was tumbling over.

"Yes! Yes, just like that...Fuck!"

When his eyes fully focused the first thing he saw was Marcus, sitting on the blue tile floor with Tomas' come running down his chin. At that point it fully sunk in that there is no turning back, this man is his and will be, until one of them is dead. The thought was not even remotely daunting, all he felt at that point was relief. Finally he found someone true, someone he could love fully and wholeheartedly, because Marcus was so close to God, that loving him was loving God, and vice versa. This was a sacred kind of love and that is all he needs to know for now. Whatever they do from that point on, they do it as one. Rings or no rings. In London or in Vatican. They are one.

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Swiss guards stood on both sides of two weary looking men in clean and pressed clothes that didn't fit the weathered faces above the collars. One collar was in place already and the other was to take its place in a few moments.

They have been greeted as heroes, given communion, even if Marcus had no right to take it, and the best accommodation available. Mouse has come to greet them, but she was too busy running the whole clean up job and arguing with the sassy hacker, who came to visit the holy city after all. Upon being informed that he will be restored to the ranks of clergy any day now, Marcus knew he will turn it down. There was only one ring he wanted and that was the silver band around his finger. God spoke to him even without the white little square on his shirt collar.

It was no small thing to be absolved by the Pope himself and returned to the ranks of the church, but somehow Marcus didn't feel the grandiosity of it, even as he stood in front of the large oak door. He knew with unwavering clarity, that this gesture means nothing, really. After all that transpired in the last half a year, he didn't feel the longing or need for it anymore.

He's been absolved already, over half a year ago, on a pier in Seattle, cold wind blowing in his face. The finality of that moment was irrevocable in Marcus' mind. It was then, that he received the only forgiveness worth caring about.

After that moment nothing in this life could really seem grand anymore. The great marble structures, complex hierarchies, impeccably pressed black clothes - it was all smoke and mirrors – a charade. Whether you belong to one church or another factually is entirely irrelevant. He's seen people, who fought and died for God's world, for the people in it, without ever being part of the church. They were no less His warriors than Tomas, now standing at his side with a cane in left hand.

He won't be running any time soon, but the price was a relatively small one to pay. Others have given up so much more. With a fond and gentle sadness Marcus remembered a well loved copy of The Count of Monte Cristo lying on the bottom of his travel bag with a letter glued carefully into the back cover.

I'll be waiting for you on the other side. Don't hurry, I have a feeling there's plenty of time to spare…

Marcus smiled, remembering the words and turned towards Tomas, standing prim and proper, with his back straight despite the cane. There was something regal, powerful in his poise, in the hard lines of his jaw, the dancing light in those gentle, but determined eyes. It was not a cub, but a lion standing by his side. An equal. A friend. And surprisingly, a protector of Marcus' heart. When had their roles changed he didn't know, but it was clear that they finally came into equilibrium - both being the protector and the protected at the same time.

As the door slowly slid open they both stepped forward in an even stride.

The Pontiff has greeted them standing, in the honour of their efforts in battle. They will be rewarded and hailed as heroes - people kept telling them all around as if they thought the war is over.

But the two exorcists knew the battle is not over. The battle has just begun…

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Thank you to all those who chose to read this story, I'm forever grateful for your time and attention! All my love, Siberian Cypress xx