David
Being in a church didn't feel quite right without her arm linked to Mrs. Bigby's. Also strange was the fact that it wasn't Christmas or Easter; nobody had died or been christened or gotten married. Carina's reason for being in a church was entirely self motivated, after, of course, receiving some explicit direction from Mrs. Bigby. 

*"God's house will keep you warm, child. You look awfully cold these days."*

She'd told Mrs.Bigby she was alright, really. Just a bit blue now that the sun disappeared so quickly in the evening. The old woman knew better. 

*"You need more than the store. You need more than me, more than these grisly full moon stories to fill your heart."* 

Impatient, Carina had asked her *What, then?* What would Mrs. Bigby have her do? They were making arrangements to see the old Baker house. Sales were going well. Mrs. Bigby'd had a string of good days. Carina was afraid of what more there could be outside of her safe routine, besides the carefully planned and prepared diversions that she orchestrated for herself. She was half-stunned when Mrs. Bigby advised her then to seek God. 

Disappointing the woman was the last thing Carina ever hoped to do, in any capacity. She knew she needed to go walk through the church doors, if nothing else than to say she had, but they'd had that conversation a week ago, and Carina spent every day behind the register working up the courage to actually do it.
_ _

The morning? No, no. The morning was no good. What if she missed Earl Browne coming in for his weekly quarter pound of chocolate? He was always so prompt, right at 9:00. The afternoon, then– but no. She imagined the high sun and how it might hit the stained glass. That'd be a lot of light, making the situation too churchy to pretend she was somewhere else (which was a crucial aspect of her visiting conditions). The evening, just after close! Well, there was the sweeping to do. And dinner to make.

After dinner. She could find no fault, besides the fact that she thought maybe the wick of her lantern had burnt too low to give light there and back, but alas. She found a new wick in a kitchen drawer beside a box of matches. 

The night was cold, and Carina found herself relieved to make it inside the church after the walk, if only for the warmth. She set her lantern on the floor and turned the flame down low, stepping forward cautiously into the space as she lowered the hood of her tawny-colored cashmere shawl. 

For so late at night, there were still candles lit by the altar. As she stood, centered in the nave, she couldn't help but imagine the place in flame: some raccoon finding its way in through a window and spilling hot wax and eager fire onto the ruby-red rug. She thought of how warm it would be, then. Bible pages were so thin, after all. Surely they'd make great kindling. 

Mrs. Bigby hadn't sent her here to perform arson, and so she sat stiffly, petulantly, in a pew and opened a book of hymns. Her childhood piano lessons let her hear the melodies without her humming them. She'd only flipped through a handful of pages but she'd seen the word *Blood* About thirty times.

*There is a fountain filled with blood
 Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
 Lose all their guilty stains.*
_ _

"Christ." She hissed, snapping the book shut. The sound arced around the rafters and back to her, making her jump. *It was only a church.* Nothing to be afraid of. She closed her eyes. She breathed in the holy air. She tried to feel anything at all.

Abel spent most of his time at the church, his own home much less kept up than that of the church. The floor covered in dust, and the walls fading, food sat in the fridge mostly untouched, mostly useless to him. No, for some home brought comfort, but not for Abel. 

It had been a long time since any sort of home had brought Abel comfort, for him it was more or less a reminder of all that he wished he could do with his life but knew he could not. For Abel it was the place in which his brother stayed and not much else. 

That was another reason he preffered the church, he knew his brother would never step foot in it. That was how he liked it in a way, sure, he wanted his brother to be safe, to one day find God, but.. He liked his time away as well. He liked knowing that here, he wouldn't have to worry about his brother. He could put it all aside and worry about what mattered. 

Spreading the word. 

He was in the back tonight, putting together his next sermon when he heard a noise echoing from outside in the pews. He looked up from his work, and almost spilling his drink quickly arranged his things for when he got back. He made his way into the main area of the church and looked around until his eyes met the figure before him. 

After a moment, he smiled, and made his way over, hands folded in front of him. "Hello there Miss Vanora.." He said with a nod. He had seen her around town, enough to know her name and her face but wel.. He hadn't seen her here much, something that only made him all the more happy that she was here now. 

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise." He said as he approahced until he was close, looking down at her. "I hope I didn't scare you, with my uh.. Sudden appearance.." He said with a small laugh. "It's good to see you here, is what I mean.. What uh.. Brings you here?" He asked with a pleasant smile upon his face.
Stephen
Predictably, Carina jumped off the pew at the sound of Abel's voice. She knew he had a home, so *Why* Was the man here so late? Embarrassingly, she couldn't help but recall the number of nights she'd worked in the shop by candlelight, avoiding the solitude of her apartment in the company of jars of cold cream and canisters of tea. As her heart beat came back to a steady rhythm, she turned to the man. 

"Pastor— Father... Abel." She wasn't sure how to address him. She didn't know that they'd ever spoken one on one. He kept getting closer. Why was he getting closer? Fractionally, she shrunk away from his looming presence. 

"You did scare me." She clarified, indignant, "It's usually best practice to clear one's throat softly, or give a shuffle of the foot, when approaching from behind." Preaching to a man of God. Who could be surprised. 

*What brings you here.* 

That had her sharp tongue blunted as she stalled for an answer. She slowly clasped her hands around her knee, one leg crossed over the other. She stared straight ahead at the distant altar. 

"I don't know," She replied, somewhere between exasperation and vulnerability, "What usually brings people here?"
_ _
David
He smiled a bit as she stumbled over her words, and shrugged his shoulders. "Just Abel is fine, but.." He paused, "If you want the title, it's pastor, or preacher." He said as he leaned slightly against the pew in front of her. 

As she continued, he could not help but raise a brow. She wasn't subtle nor did she throw hints. He wasn't sure if he should be appreciative or offended, so he simply nodded. "Mmm.." He hummed, "I suppose I have to try that." 

The question he had posed seem to make her think for a moment, which.. He was glad for in honesty. He liked to make people think, it made him feel accomplished in his work. He shrugged his shoulders as he thought, sitting down in the pew in front of her but turning his body towards her. 

He didn't want to sit right next to her, and risk giving her an unwanted closeness, so he figured this was a happy medium. He looked towards the altar that she was staring at before he answered, "Well.. I suppose it comes from a multitude of reasons." He said as he thought. 

"I've known people to come for guidance, from both me and God.. People come to feel closer to Him, to feel safe. To feel.." He took in a deep breath. "Anything. People come because they're sad, because they're angry. Some come because they feel guilty.." He said with a pause. 

"So I guess that really depends on what you're feeling, doesn't it?"
Stephen
Appreciative of the distance Abel left between them as he sat a pew ahead, Carina tried to make herself comfortable as she had been before he'd startled her. She listened to him, her expression cool and face tilted up and away from the preacher. Acutely aware of her own breathing for some reason, she craved distraction. 

*...Guidance, both from me and God...*

She was far more interested in the man before her over one she couldn't see. Unconvinced of God's existence, Abel she could lay a hand on. Carina shifted to look at him, studying his face. His youth was striking; she hadn't realized before just how close they were in age to each other, having read Abel as an older man due to his staunch faith. His features were sharp, all hollows and angles like the structure of the crucified Jesus' expression. *Well,* She conceded, *Perhaps not so severe.* Her gaze lingered on the gold cross at his neck, wondering how it could serve someone to be so acutely reminded of a good man's murder on a daily basis. 

"I am feeling lost, pastor." She admitted, startled by the sincerity of the words: embarrassed, even, "I mean. Well." Stammering, she tried to come up with a way of speaking that would relate to the man. A language he could understand, and that would remove her from herself enough to suspend disbelief she was acting, "I've never felt called to anything. I doubt being a cashier is all God would wish for even his most piteous children." She'd never expected to be called by God to anything, aside from when she was a little girl. She'd quickly grown out of religion, even before her household's upset. Disguising her hopelessness as abandonment by the Lord made her feel adjacent enough to her confusion to prevent her from fullying claiming it, even as the words left her mouth. 

"You felt called. To this. You must have. Will I know a call when I hear one? If one ever comes?" She asked, again allowing more honestly to sneak into her tone than she would have liked.
_ _
David
Abel listened to the girl as she spoke, and he leaned forward a bit. As she admitted she was feeling lost, he was not happy to hear it by any means but he was happy to be confided in. It was one thing he knew about, it was one thing that he understood. 

*Religion*. It was a complicated thing, and something that he felt was hard to grasp. It had been hard for him to grasp for a long time, even now, he had his moments of not understanding what he was reading. Hours spent trying to fine tune the interpretation he was understanding. 

He listened as she continued to speak and nodded along, "Hm.." He said as he considered her question, about no one's calling being a cashier and he supposed it was true afterall. There were very few people, if any, he felt that God would say that was what they were meant to be doing. 

At her further questioning, he took a moment, deciding it was best to give her a thoughtful answer that may take a moment, rather than a rushed one that he was able to spew out right away. 

"I did.." He said finally, "I did feel called to this.. But I didn't right away, when I was a child I had very little connection to relgion. I hardly cared about it really, but I suppose there was a time when.. I realized that.." He paused for a moment. 

"I think a calling can come in many forms, for some.. God may tell you directly, he may tell you.. That he wants you to do something, the kind of calling you see in the bible quite a bit.." He said as he took in a deep breath. 

"But there are other times when it's you.. Who tells yourself what your calling is.. When you see that there is something you want to be doing, something that makes you feel fufilled, and you know that God supports you.. I would say that is just a valid form of a calling than any other." 

He crossed his arms over his chest as he studied her for a moment, "What makes you most happy?"
Stephen
The skepticism read clearly on Carina's face, as plain as any quirked brow or widened eye, though not *Quite* So obvious. God had no voice to speak to her. Dreams were just dreams, and coincidences were nothing to kneel to. If she were to ever feel a calling, she supposed it would have to come from within herself. 

So. What did she want? Or, as Abel put it: what made her most happy? 

"I do like working." She admitted. No. She *Said* It. Admittance was for the weak hearted, "Routine makes me happy." Her thoughts had turned vocal, here in God's house. She was too tired to question it and the strange relief it brought to be vulnerable in front of a stranger. 
"I used to be happy to learn things, to practice things and get better at them. Flute lessons, latin, calligraphy, cooking." But did any of these things *Fulfill* Her? Would God be happy to see her be a flautist, a calligrapher, a chef? Besides, none of those were pathways that flowed through Briar Ridge, and the idea of leaving terrified her too much to even consider. 

She was back where she started, and that annoyed her. The only person in sight to relieve her frustrations was unfortunately Abel, the same soul trying to save her from them. 

"You were called to this." She hummed, followed by a sad, tired smirk. Her full vitriol was too violent to summon now, so she settled for what she could muster, "That must feel good, to be one of God's favorites. It must feel good that he trusts you to tell people what to do with their lives." Carina sighed. The verbal abuse brought her no means of satisfaction, and honestly, she didn't know what that left her. She tightened her arms over her chest and sunk lower in the pew so the back of her head rested on the wood behind her. Looking at the ceiling, the shapes of shadows dancing around casts of candlelight, she felt she was up against a dead end. 
_ _

"You can leave now, Pastor. God trusts me with nothing. I'm a lost cause. I wouldn't want Him to be disappointed in you when it turns out you can't save me, after all." 
_ _
David
Abel listened to what she had to say and he quirked a brow. She was interesting, she seemed to know what she wanted and not all at once, to know that something made her happy but perhaps.. She only felt that was not enough. 

He paused for a moment, and let her continue. He didn't want to interupt any thought she may have on the subject. Though at the implication of being one of God's favorites.. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew it was not nearly as simple as that. 

He took in a deep breath, and shook his head. "That is incredibly over simplified.." He said as he leaned forward. "No one is a lost cause, truly. Everyone has the chance to become something if they only look into themselves." He said and shook his head again. 

"And by the way," He scoffed. "God does not have favorites, nor does he instruct me to tell people what to do with their lives. I simply try to act as a guide, to help people figure out for themselves what they want.." He said as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"You know.." He said as he glanced over at her, "If what you do now.. Is fufilling to you, there is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing bad about enjoying your work even if it seems simple to you. You could pick up a new hobby, if you feel as though you need it. That is always an option too. Learning is something you can do forever, and it is something that plenty of people do forever.. Like in the past with philosphers, with writers, what do they do if not try and learn forever?" He asked arching a brow. 

"If you don't mind me asking, what has your relationship with God been in the past?"
Stephen
Abel wasn't leaving. Carina's heart sank, followed quickly by a red flash of anger behind her eyes. Her lips parted for a fast, hot burst of words she didn't really mean, but Abel's timing interrupted her. His patience was infuriating. In spite of herself, she could see why God liked him so much. 

Her frustration melted through phases of annoyance, acceptance, indignation, and finally landed on pity. *Yes,* She decided. This man could be pitied. So foolish was he to believe everyone was good: that no one was truly lost. Her chest tightened in anticipation of a future where the world eventually showed Abel how wrong a person could be about such things. Before that future arrived, though, she could be smug about his naivety. This, at last, felt comfortable to her. 



His question about God prompted a snort, before she could meter her reaction. 
"My mother always thought it was fashionable to be Catholic for some reason. We went to mass twice a week. I used to be frightened of God, before I realized He has too many rules to follow. Makes Him seem scared. Trying to appear larger than He is with all His *Ceremonies* And whatnot." She kept her eyes trained on the distant candles at the altar. *Just like a man.* She thought privately. 

"I've said my fair share of prayers, Pastor. But I decided a long time ago that before He gets more of my secrets and desires, he needs to earn my trust." Carina looked over at Abel now. She had taken on a different quality. Her smugness failed to show on her features, her face instead taking on a quiet, haunted quality. Placid. Serene. 
_ _

"He hasn't done that yet, and I'm tired of giving Him chances." She said. Even though she had come here to search her soul, Carina had quickly grown weary of the task. If asked, she would defensively call it boredom, but truly it was fatigue, and it was beginning to show in her tired eyes.
_ _
David
Abel listened as she spoke, and he unfortunately related to some of it. He knew how hard it was to feel.. This weird sort of power dynamic with God. He knew how it felt to feel ignored by God, to feel s if they were hopeless. It was a feeling that he had since learned to ignore, something he had pushed away, and something he had helped people get through but even still, he did not like to think of it when he had to. 

But he nodded along, and he took in her words, he took in what she was saying and he gave it thought. He thought about what he would have wanted to hea when he felt that way. What would have made him feel more confident in his rlationship with God, what would have made him feel important?

Honesty. 

When he was first struggling, all he heard were stories about how God is good, and how God loves all, and that there was no reason for doubt, bu even now he knew that was not true. He knew there would always be reason for doubt at the end of the day, always a reason to wonder what was truly out there. 

He cleared his throat once she had spoken and decided to give his piece. 

"Your relationship with God,anyone's.. Relationship with God really is always going to be a complicated thing, and a lot of times.. People will make you feel as though it shouldn't be. People will make you believe itis as simple as God loves you and that is all you need to know.." 

He shook his head, "But it's never that simple, is it? God does love you, despite anything you might think, and anything you might do.. It's almost scary, his love.. Because it is so unconditional and yet so often he expects so much from you.." He said taking in a deep sigh.

"But it can also bring you comfort, in a way to know that even if you are not.. The person you think he wants you to be there is still love for you in his heart, there is still.. Care for you there. Loving God.. Is a challenge. That may sound odd coming from me, but it's true. If it were easy, everyone would do it and reap the rewards from it. But that is simply not the case.. Every day, God will send you challenges, and he will make it hard to want to love him, nd that is unfortunate but.. It doesn't make you bad, it doesn't make you evil to not quite understand his plan for you, his vision, it just makes you human.."

He let out a deep sigh. "Loving God is something everyone can and should do, and purposely casting him out is something I could never endorse, but struggling with it, trying to understand it and failing, wanting it and yet wanting him to show you should, is not odd or inherently wrong. It's like when a child asks their parents why and the parent tells them because I said so.. It takes a while for a child to understand that is how it is, and sometimes they need more than that so." He took in a deep breath. 

"I think coming to service would benefit you, I do, but I also think that maybe it would benefit you to write it down sometime. Tell God how you feel either in your head or in a journal, and maybe.. Just maybe he will answer you."
Stephen
Carina made it a point to avoid complicated relationships. She avoided relationships in general because other people were the couriers of complication, no matter how simple they seemed on the surface. Mrs. Bigby had proved to be the one exception in her life thus far, but her kinship with the woman still didn't necessarily inspire her to take further chances. Forging a relationship with God, however, somehow didn't seem as threatening as with someone of flesh and blood, especially under the terms that Abel was laying out. 

And besides, didn't she want love? Didn't she *Need* Love? Would love from a source she couldn't see, feel, touch, be as satisfying as that from a real person? Could it replace the abandonment she felt in the hollow of her chest? Could her anger and bitterness be just a challenge from God, with a great reward for overcoming it? 

She hadn't come here for questions. She'd come for answers. Carina didn't realize the deep frown of concern that creased her brow until Abel sighed. 

Carina sighed, too. 
_ _

Coming to services would make Mrs. Bigby happy. It would give Carina someplace to go, someplace to wear the nice dresses she collected from that shop in the city that she liked. Writing things down besides the town gossip wouldn't be so bad, either. She realized that somewhere in the timeline of the last few minutes, she'd lost the energy to be angry at Abel, or maybe he'd started making sense. 

There was a long silence that passed, during which Carina's eyes went kind of unfocused as she stared forward. At some point, she began to make the most minuscule nod with her head: the most timid agreement. Once it became perceptible, she spoke a few seconds later. 

"As if Mrs. Bigby wasn't already your biggest fan, Pastor. Getting me to come to church with her on Sundays will just be the cherry on top." When she looked over to Abel, she did not smile, but there was a kind of soft relief in her eyes. Something there said "Thank you," And "I'm sorry," All in one. She looked forward to his next sermon. 
_ _