Nettie agreed to his suggestion, Helen was a far better choice.

As they walked, she noticed he seemed bothered and maybe restless. Maybe he really didn't like the siblings or at least Aslan. He said maybe but didn't seem truly interested. She considered she wouldn't bring it up again. If she went, she could do it alone.

When they got towards the church and he stopped her, she looked at him curiously. She stopped walked and looked him in the eye. "What is it? Please, you know you can always talk to me about anything. I am more than willing to fully hear you out."

It was not that he feared her not listening. It was, in fact, that he had to voice it at all, and make real the ideas which had, until now, been just that. Ideas. Thrown around almost carelessly, when he should have spent his time shepherding them instead. Guiding them back to the church.

That was the issue, though, and that was why he slowed and stopped before they reached it.

Malachi found himself voiceless, staring down at the one who had always looked up to him. He knew that she prioritized happiness. That she had expressed so many times that she just wanted him to find it, and that she would be there to support him all the while. But that didn’t make it any easier to force the words out of his mouth.

Averting his gaze, he peered down at her hands instead, and hesitantly took them into his own.

It was the way he’d always talked to her when he had something serious to say – but last time she’d been small enough that he had to crouch down to her level.

“Do you remember very much from before I joined the church?”

How old had she been then, six? He couldn't expect a well-kept record of any of that, but it was the only thing he got out.

When he slowed and grew quiet, she became worried. He got so serious and took her hands. Ahe couldn't remember the last time he did it. His hands were warm, and she squeezed them to assure him it was alright to speak. She knew she wasn't strong but she'd do her best for him.

His question left her confused and she tilted her head. "I remember bits and pieces. Why?"

There was never an easy way to say something so radical. It was always the same, no matter if the heart of it was ‘I love you,’ ‘I’m a murderer,’ or worse, ‘I’m leaving the Catholic church.’

He wasn’t even leaving anything, not… yet. Probably not at all, if he could tear himself away from fantasies long enough to regain sense.

But if he was not seriously considering it, why did it matter so much to him that he told her?

Malachi kept his eyes downcast, on the hands that squeezed his own.

“I’m thinking of leaving,” he murmured. “The church.”

Not her. Not if he could help it. Not any of the few precious things he could afford to keep.

Never had he expressed his doubts, his disbeliefs, his frustrations with his priestly life. It had never felt appropriate, and he had always maintained hope that by not saying them, they would one day fade away. They’d festered inside him instead.

“That’s foolish of me to consider, isn’t it?”

Nettie was quiet as she stared up at him. She squeezed his hands again and let go of one to touch the side of his face.

"Malachi..." it was rare she used his name but it was important to let him know what she was going to say was sincere and important.

"The church is only as important as it needs to be for you. If it doesn't make you happy, or you can't be who you want to be under it's roof.. you should never force yourself to stay. I don't want you being a priest or even a catholic if it doesn't give you happiness or the guidance you're looking for. So if you want to go, do it. Just think on it first, so you have no regrets alright? It is easier to give it a week then trying to get back in, I assume.." she smiled softly and held his hands between hers.

"You have no reason to be so worried about how I feel about this. I think you're a wonderful priest. But that's because you are a wonderful person. It has nothing to do with the church, from what I remember you've always been this way."

Malachi lifted his head, but did not return the young woman’s smile.

She was right. Waiting would be infinitely easier than making a hasty decision and regretting it; there was no coming back if he left. It would be the end.

He was not a wonderful priest; he did not even fancy himself a good one, let alone a good person. The constraints of Catholicism had, he believed, smoothed him out. Made him presentable enough to appear better than he was, through the use of holy verses and authority.

“…I see,” he said after a few seconds of silence. Her acceptance was as comforting as it was alienating.

“Then I will consider it for a little while longer,” Malachi nodded once, and slowly pulled his hands back to himself. “Thank you. That’s all I had to say.”

All he could say, more like. All that he felt comfortable telling. He tried a smile then, and gave her shoulder a gentle pat as he resumed their walk.

“I just wanted to hear your opinion before I let myself think on it seriously. It would be quite a change – I’d have to stay in London while I figured out what to do next, but it’s all just a thought.”

Nettie's smile faded. Her answer didn't please him. Nothing she did pleased him now and something bothered him deeply. She looked away and got to the steps of the presbytery. He said it was all he had to say. She could tell there was more, what did any of this have to do with how he was before and why ask? She surmised that there was more but he did not want to tell her.

She simply nodded and avoided looking at him. She wanted to ask why London? And if he wanted her to go with him. But she already felt, like a large stone settling into her stomach, that he wouldn't say why and he wanted to go without her.

"I understand..." she didn't, but he wouldn't make it any easier if she said so. "If..you need anything, you always know how to find me." She wiped at a tear at the idea he was good as gone and she wasn't supposed to follow. "I hope you write, if you go. Since..I... I'll be worried., "

“It’s… just a thought,” he repeated, less certain this time.

Here he was, backtracking again for the sake of someone else.

He’d been too quick to take that answer at face value. Of course Nettie would say all of that about the church, and about it being better to leave if it made him unhappy – it would have been impolite for her to say otherwise.

Malachi lingered at the bottom of the steps, hands drawn behind his back again, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly.

Had she been anyone else, he would have slapped her for the indecision she’d worsened in him; for the tears she was allowed to shed when he was the one struggling. Would have told her that before he was a priest, it had still been his place to sacrifice for the sake of the Brennans. That nothing had changed since then except his desire for something different.

But it was Nettie, and the anger he repressed was not her fault.

Stepping closer, he slipping his arms around her again, holding tighter this time.

“You aren’t losing me. And what makes you think that if I did leave, I would suddenly stop writing to you?” Malachi tilted his head down, looking over the blonde waves of her hair. “Don’t be silly. I would hardly be moving to the other side of the world, so I would expect to be visited too.”

Nettie nodded just slightly. "But.. there must be a reason for this thought. You seemed happy with Whitby and all when I arrived."

Something was wrong, and was it changing or had it always been wrong and she'd been unaware. Today with him had her questioning a lot internally and only wishing for answers.

When he held her, the tears fell and she hugged him as her face fell into his shoulder to quietly cry.

"I'm sorry. I know, it just.. doesn't make sense. Why do you need to go to London if you leave the church? I know..you don't owe me answers. And even if I knew, I probably couldn't do anything if it was even my place to. I'm just worried for you. That something is wrong and I'm in the dark about it. "

She wiped at her eyes but only stared down, worried to meet his gaze. "Please do write. And if you want me there, don't hesitate. If.. I'm in the way...tell me too. I don't want to drag you down from ..whatever you need to do. I want you happy, Malachi. Whether it's here in the church or a thousand miles away without it. Please, just be okay. "

As she leaned into his shoulder, he lifted a hand to hold the back of her head. He could still remember it so much smaller, when her body hadn’t spanned even the length of his arm.

“If I stayed here, I’d be out of work and a home,” he reminded. Did she expect him to move into the women’s boarding house with her? Live on the street? All he had was wrapped up in London – he could come back if he wished to, certainly, but not until he sorted that out first.

Malachi took a steadying breath, and closed his eyes as he continued to hold her.

“I haven’t even said that I’m definitely doing it, Nettie.”

He was trying to stay patient. God, he was trying for her sake.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he muttered, “it isn’t anything more than a thought. A foolish one. You’re right, I was happy here – it’s just a test, isn’t it? If I’m worthy of my position - and I was failing.”

He didn’t believe that. But he sounded like he did, and he looked convinced of it as he looked down and gently raised Nettie’s chin to meet her eyes.

“Please don’t cry,” Malachi said again, softer this time. “I could never leave you.”