M A S H Fan Fiction ❯ Everyone Has Regrets ❯ Revelation ( Chapter 1 )
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By: Shiroiyuki 
Written for the March Drabble Contest, 'Winds of Change'. A vignette taking place during my M*A*S*H story, Theatre of War.
Father Mulcahy has a revelation.
Non Anime: M A S H Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 03.27.2008 | Updated On: 03.27.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 533 | Visits: 777 | Status: Completed
Written for the March Drabble Contest, 'Winds of Change'. A vignette taking place during my M*A*S*H story, Theatre of War.
Father Mulcahy has a revelation.
Non Anime: M A S H Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 03.27.2008 | Updated On: 03.27.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 533 | Visits: 777 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own Father Mulcahy or M*A*S*H. I do, however, own all creative rights to Lena (though I doubt you'd use her for anything else).
“Francis?” She rested against the desk, hand gently occupying the space nearest mine. I looked up from my parchment, catching Lena fumble a button on her lapel. “Do you ever regret becoming a priest?”
The woman had turned but I knew her smile was a faint memory now.
A wistful sigh escaped, my mouth crumbling into a frown. How could I tell the truth? I thought about such things constantly, war wearing thin my faith with each wounded soldier that passed through camp.
“Well, everyone feels some regret. It’s only human.”
Something heavy weighed upon me and with a start I found it was my cross.
“Yeah,” Lena hummed dolefully, forsaking the button. “I suppose.”
“Why do you ask?”
She did well to keep her back to me. “Oh...just wondering.” The woman’s voice was light but something soured its tone, an unspoken question crackling beneath the surface.
My eyes swam over her army fatigues, feeling oddly disappointed. What exactly had I expected Lena to say? Like any good priest, blissful ignorance came quite easily. “No reason at all?”
Lena turned, face a shade of muted regret.
“Well, it’s just – have you ever thought about...leaving one day? Hypothetically of course.” She regarded me openly for a moment and frowned. “No, I suppose not.
“Even if it is human, I wouldn’t expect – no; sorry to even ask, France.” The woman laughed uncomfortably, knowing how silly she must have sounded.
But I didn’t return the gesture, my face sobering. Sometime during the conversation my heart had plummeted, a desire left to throb in its wake. Like the wind, it had struck me – it wasn’t the war at all anymore. It was Lena.
She was the reason I felt regret.
How strange I hadn’t realized how much I wished to embrace her; take Lena in my arms and never let go. What I would give to forsake my cassock, to relax in the warm melody of her perfume. Lose myself in her touch.
It was enough to make this old priest blush shamefully.
Lena thankfully hadn’t noticed, busy harassing that small white button again. In her haze, a lip had found itself pulled between her teeth, and I sat enthralled. Wounded.
Shaking my gaze away sadly, I resumed my letter, scratching halfheartedly across the parchment. Nothing was ever that clear-cut in life. My feelings would never be known, let alone shared. I was a fulltime priest, you know.
But, just in case Lena had more to say on the subject I kept an ear devoted to listening. Just in case, I waited with bated breath. I knew whatever came of this revelation, our friendship would never be the same.
For better or worse, I loved her.
“Francis?” She rested against the desk, hand gently occupying the space nearest mine. I looked up from my parchment, catching Lena fumble a button on her lapel. “Do you ever regret becoming a priest?”
The woman had turned but I knew her smile was a faint memory now.
A wistful sigh escaped, my mouth crumbling into a frown. How could I tell the truth? I thought about such things constantly, war wearing thin my faith with each wounded soldier that passed through camp.
“Well, everyone feels some regret. It’s only human.”
Something heavy weighed upon me and with a start I found it was my cross.
“Yeah,” Lena hummed dolefully, forsaking the button. “I suppose.”
“Why do you ask?”
She did well to keep her back to me. “Oh...just wondering.” The woman’s voice was light but something soured its tone, an unspoken question crackling beneath the surface.
My eyes swam over her army fatigues, feeling oddly disappointed. What exactly had I expected Lena to say? Like any good priest, blissful ignorance came quite easily. “No reason at all?”
Lena turned, face a shade of muted regret.
“Well, it’s just – have you ever thought about...leaving one day? Hypothetically of course.” She regarded me openly for a moment and frowned. “No, I suppose not.
“Even if it is human, I wouldn’t expect – no; sorry to even ask, France.” The woman laughed uncomfortably, knowing how silly she must have sounded.
But I didn’t return the gesture, my face sobering. Sometime during the conversation my heart had plummeted, a desire left to throb in its wake. Like the wind, it had struck me – it wasn’t the war at all anymore. It was Lena.
She was the reason I felt regret.
How strange I hadn’t realized how much I wished to embrace her; take Lena in my arms and never let go. What I would give to forsake my cassock, to relax in the warm melody of her perfume. Lose myself in her touch.
It was enough to make this old priest blush shamefully.
Lena thankfully hadn’t noticed, busy harassing that small white button again. In her haze, a lip had found itself pulled between her teeth, and I sat enthralled. Wounded.
Shaking my gaze away sadly, I resumed my letter, scratching halfheartedly across the parchment. Nothing was ever that clear-cut in life. My feelings would never be known, let alone shared. I was a fulltime priest, you know.
But, just in case Lena had more to say on the subject I kept an ear devoted to listening. Just in case, I waited with bated breath. I knew whatever came of this revelation, our friendship would never be the same.
For better or worse, I loved her.