Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Title taken from the song If I Had a hammer by Peter, Paul, and Mary (1960) 

If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning
I'd hammer in the evening all over this land
I'd hammer out danger, I'd hammer out a warning

I'd hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land, ooh

If I had a bell, I'd ring it in the morning
I'd ring it in the evening all over this land
I'd ring out danger, I'd ring out a warning

I'd ring out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land, ooh

If I had a song, I'd sing it in the morning
I'd sing it in the evening all over this land
I'd sing out danger, I'd sing out a warning
I'd sing out love between my brothers and my sisters

All over this land, ooh

Well, I got a hammer, and I got a bell
I've got a song to sing all over this land
It's the hammer of justice, it's the bell of freedom

It's a song about love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

It's the hammer of justice
It's the bell of freedom
It's a song about love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

 

It’s a rare occasion - when the Holy Father and his staff happen to be in the Holy City. After six weeks of international travel and long 18-hour days of public appearances, Thomas thought it would be good for them to rest. It was a delight - to feel well enough to join his brothers and sisters for morning prayer in the chapel.

To look upon the face of his dearest Aldo as he received the Eucharist. Lawrence felt content, wrapped in the sunshine that broke through the stained glass, the Divine’s presence seemed tangible when he was not alone, but in the company of the colleagues and friends he loved.

Bolstered by an exceptionally good mood, Lawrence agreed to allow Bellini to accompany him to Policlinico Gemelli for his chemo infusion in the outpatient clinic.

During his first stint of treatment, the hospital had felt like a dreadful place, a tomb Thomas had wanted to avoid at all costs. 

But in the time since - he had become close with the nursing staff and his oncology team. The Policlinico Gemelli is considered one of the best research hospitals in Italy and Europe - the land for the hospital was gifted by Pope Pius XI for the establishment of a research and teaching hospital.

It has long since had close ties to the Catholic Church, and Thomas found himself spending time there not only as a patient but in a pastoral role, providing care to patients and his fellow co-workers in ministry even after he went into remission. 

He felt differently about crossing the threshold of the hospital, in a way, the oncology ward had become familiar.

A place where Thomas knew no matter how dreadful he felt, he was in excellent hands by both the medical and chaplain staff. 

If Thomas was not accompanied to his treatments by one of his brothers and sisters working in the Holy See, he sat with the Chaplain while his infusion ran.

There was something intimate and personal about the experiences Thomas had on the cancer ward and the outpatient clinic, that he didn’t know how to put into words. 

The first time he had been in treatment, Lawrence felt like enclosing himself in walls to keep this part of his life separate from his responsibility as Dean.

He had been tight-lipped about his treatment schedule, pushing away others including Aldo and the late Holy Father. He did not want them to worry, to see him at his most vulnerable. 

Now, Thomas was beginning to realize that perhaps - his crisis of faith had arisen in part because he shut others out. He had been alone and miserable, angry with God for allowing him to endure illness.

Thomas had wanted to be made well, for the hand of God to rid the cancer from his body. 

When that did not happen and the urgency arose for him to undergo a radical prostatectomy, Thomas felt abandoned, cast aside, and alone.

His body changed - he hadn’t expected the grief associated with his newfound erectile dysfunction and infertility. 

Celibacy had not been lonely - quite the opposite - while Thomas had not known the intimacy of a significant other as a husband and partner, not parenting children or knowing what it is to be a grandfather - he was not alone. He found comfort and belonging in his fellowship with his fellow clergy.

Thomas as a younger man felt secure in his decision to pursue marriage to the Church. Certainly, he is no stranger to attraction to women and men, and he has been aware of other’s desire for him. Thomas Lawerence after all is a mortal man, made of flesh and blood. 

But there was something about no longer having to be mindful of that part of his body, that left him with bitterness and sorrow - rather than a choice freely made, the finality of not having those experiences and wandering left him feeling unmoored. 

He did not regret his decision to serve his bride, the Church faithfully for the last five decades. But as a man, a person, Thomas couldn’t help but wonder what his life might have looked like if he had chosen another path. 

Bellini noticed the way Lawrence carried himself in the hospital was striking from the quiet, subdued presence he held as Dean in the Holy See. 

Thomas smiled, greeting hospital staff who knew him well. He waved, shared brief exchanges of greeting, the occasional hug, and asked about how they and their loved ones were from the hospital coffee shop to the elevator and finally to the outpatient cancer ward, many people knew Thomas - a shared familiarity. 

Others called out to him, “Senor Lawrence!”, “Padre”, “Fr. Tommas.” 

It filled Aldo both with jealousy and relief - jealousy in that others seemed to have broken through the armor his Thomas wore, an ease and intimacy he wished they had. Aldo then murmured a quiet prayer of gratitude to the Divine that Thomas was so clearly loved and cherished by others. 

“Ciao, da quanto tempo,  Rosalia?” Hello friend, long time no see. Thomas greeted them as they arrived at the check-in. 

“Padre Lawrence, Come si sente?, the nurse asked.  How are you feeling? 

Nurse Rosalia beamed, squeezing Lawerence’s shoulder as he kissed her cheek. 

“Sono un po’ stanco, ma grazie!” Thomas replied softly. I’m a little tired, but good thank you! 

They chat in Italian briefly, as the nurse shows Thomas and Aldo to an open seat near a window overlooking the hospital’s garden.

Aldo’s Italian is a little rusty, he makes out enough that makes him blush when he hears the nurse ask if this is Thomas’ dear friend Aldo.  

Thomas switches to English when speaking to Aldo as he takes his seat in the hospital recliner. Aldo sits in the chair next to his friend, watching the practiced ease in which Thomas and the nursing staff move in sync. 

“She was kind enough to save my favorite spot for me," Thomas smiled softly to Aldo, not wanting his friend to be left out of the conservation. 

“That’s sweet of her. Is she your usual nurse?” Aldo asked. 

“Yes, Rosalia and I have been together since my diagnosis.” Thomas seemed at ease, despite the sterile hospital environment and smell of antiseptic that burned in Aldo’s nose.

They were neither strangers to hospital environments after all the life of a priest requires making pastoral visits, but something was unnerving Aldo thought about it being someone so dear to him as the patient. 

Thomas opted for wearing a dark zip-up hoodie with a white t-shirt and taupe ​​linen blend athletic trousers.

He unzipped his hoodie, allowing the nurses access to preparing his pre-chemo medication of anti-nausea medications, and antihistamines. 

“They’ll begin with giving me some medication to help prevent nausea and allergic reaction to the chemo. It takes about thirty minutes. The antihistamine makes me sleepy sometimes but it’s not bad.” Thomas explained. 

The nurse begins by cleaning the port on Thomas’ chest and then inserts the needle.

Thomas’ face betrays a grimace as Rosalia accesses his port, even with using the numbing cream prior it is slightly uncomfortable. 

Rosalia confirms the needle’s placement, flushes the line with saline, and secures the needle to the port’s reservoir, securing the needle with a dressing.

She connects the first lumen to a bag of pre-infusion medication and prepares the IV pump to begin administering the medication. The second lumen she caps off with a sterile cap. 

“Grazie!”Lawrence thanked Rosalia who knows him well enough to know he’d like a warm blanket, placing it over his lap and helping him to get settled in the recliner. 

Aldo looks around the room they’re in, not sure where to look or what to say. He feels like he has invaded Thomas’ privacy and worried for a moment that perhaps it was an overstep to offer to accompany Lawrence to chemo.

There are five chairs in the room they’re in, other patients some alone, others with a loved one or friend receiving their infusion. Yet - the room does not feel like a tomb, no, the sunshine fills the room with warmth.

The noise is comfortable, despite the occasional alerts from infusion pumps, the thrum of patients receiving care, and the shuffle of the hospital staff’s shoes against the tile floor. 

“The first time I went through treatment, I found the cancer clinic foreign and uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be here.”, Thomas commented as he parsed the look on his friend’s face. 

Aldo felt disarmed by how well his friend could read his unspoken thoughts. Thomas offers a hand to Aldo as the flow of medication begins - to provide comfort to himself or his friend Aldo did not know. 

“I can sympathize. I didn’t realize I would feel overwhelmed.” Aldo accepts Thomas’ hand in his. 

“This is not easy for me. But in time, spending more time in the hospital than in my office or apartment  at the Holy See, the oncology ward has become as familiar to me as a cathedral.” Thomas hummed. 

“This entire time, I selfishly worried that you were alone and miserable during treatment but quite the opposite. I must admit I am both jealous and relieved.” Aldo squeezed Thomas’ hand gently. 

“I never knew how to explain how I felt about my cancer. Being sick has a way of revealing and clarifying one’s vulnerabilities - for a long time, I resisted this part of my life, shutting others out.” Thomas closed his eyes as they continued talking, he was relaxed. 

“What changed?”Aldo asked. 

"I have become friends with suffering, and it has allowed me to realize, that while it is unlikely my cancer will be cured in this realm of existence, it is not a death sentence either. For all the time I wasted worrying about dying, I forgot that time is a precious thing and I will not waste my life whilst I have breath.” Thomas said in a melancholy tone.

There’s a look on Thomas’ face and it takes Aldo’s breath away. All of these years Aldo has been afraid to confess to Thomas that he loves him - has for fifty years, been afraid of tainting Thomas’ reputation. 

When Thomas so clearly has loved him, reciprocated those feelings the entire time - yet never pushed Aldo aware of how skittish the other man felt, how deeply internalized queerphobia and the weight of their roles as ordained clergy went. 

“I’m so sorry, my darling, I don’t think I realized how much you were struggling when you first got diagnosed. Selfishly, I wanted to believe you were ​​indomitable.” Aldo sniffled as something in him shifted, something precious that he had guarded and not fully allowed himself to process. 

Thomas kisses Aldo’s hand, then stroking it gently with his thumb in a circular motion to extend comfort as if to say, “I understand, dearest, I wasn’t ready either.” 

The infusion beeped when the pre-infusion medication cycle had run its course. It isn’t long before Roselina pops back in to change out the IV bags.

She hangs the bag of chemo first, prepping the line and setting the infusion rate. 

Roselina disappeared around the corner for a moment gathering the blood product to set Thomas’ transfusion up - knowing his platelets while high enough for chemo would soon fall to zero in the coming days. 

“Thanks be to God for those who donated the blood of life,” Thomas said as he made the sign of the cross as if he were receiving the Eucharist. This is my body broken for you. The cup of salvation poured out for you. 

“Lovely, you received the sacrament and a blood transfusion before we pumped you full of poison.” Aldo frowned thinking of giving Thomas communion at mass this morning, he found the juxtaposition unsettling. 

“Ah, that is the paradox of being human, my dearest Aldo.,” Thomas replied lightly.  

The nurses switched out Lawerence’s blanket for another from the warmer - knowing Thomas gets cold from the chemo. Aldo watches as Rosalina prepares a cup of ginger ale, a package of cookies, and an emesis basin on the table next to Lawerence’s chair. 

Another nurse made sure that the call button was within reach, and they began the infusions of blood products and chemo.

Thomas shivered when the chemo began to flow from the IV bag into his veins, it felt cold, and he could taste it as his teeth chattered. 

Blessedly, that sensation was brief, and Thomas soon shifted his attention to his work, wearing his glasses low on his nose.

Aldo picked up his laptop and began working as well - it was oddly familiar the man thought as they worked through the first hour of the chemo treatment in relatively companionable quiet. 

Thomas munched on the cookies quietly, taking the occasional sip of his ginger ale.  He knew better than to fight Roselina on that matter.  Aldos’s eyes glance at the clock, only one more hour and they’ll be able to get out of here. 

“Dearest Aldo, are you sure you’re okay?” Thomas asked, looking up from his paperwork. 

“I should be asking you that,” Aldo said with a tut. 

“Aldo, please.” Thomas redirected him back to the question. 

Aldo sighed, his fingers stopped typing as he gathered his thoughts. 

“When I was a young priest serving in Brooklyn during the height of the AIDS epidemic, I sat beside so many friends and their lovers. It was heartbreaking the sheer homophobia and disregard people had for these men as they were sick and dying, I spent so much time in hospitals, presiding over funerals, and at gravesites. I don’t think I realized - I had been avoiding you, Thomas. Because I was afraid to confront my fear that I might face living without you on this mortal plane. Stupid to waste what precious time we have.” Aldo takes off his glasses, wiping at his tears with his hankey.  

“I don’t think that’s stupid at all, Aldo. Quite understandable in fact.” Thomas said gently as he placed a kiss on Aldo’s cheek.  

“Thank you for allowing me to accompany you today. I don’t think I realized what it would mean for either of us.” Aldo admitted in a gentle tone.

Then Aldo cupped Thomas’ face, lingering for just a moment before they parted and returned to their work.

“Of course, Aldo. I’m glad we could share this moment.” Thomas concurred. 

The rest of the chemo session went relatively uneventful. Thomas even managed to have a light lunch, and the nausea seemed tamed by the antiemesis medication for the time being.

The staff tended to Thomas, coming in and out from time to time. Aldo even had the pleasure to meet Thomas’ oncologist while he was on rounds. 

It wasn’t what Aldo expected - the hospital was not a dreadful place. If anything, it brought him immense relief to know Thomas was extremely well-loved, known, and cared for by the hospital staff. 

Just as they were preparing to depart from the outpatient clinic, Aldo’s phone rang, and he tried to hide the look of panic that crossed his face as Thomas finished packing his things.

Roselina had picked up his medication from the hospital pharmacy, administered his prednisone, and capped off the lumens of his port. 

“What’s wrong, Aldo?” Thomas asked, seeing the way his friend wrung his hands nervously. 

“Apologizes, Dean. The Holy Father has evaded his security team and snuck out of the Holy See. We are needed at once. - I had hoped we’d have a quiet afternoon but alas duty calls.” Aldo swallowed thickly. 

“Ah, life goes on, my dear Secretary. Come along, we shouldn’t waste another moment.”, Lawrence remarked, putting a steading hand on Bellini’s shoulder as they made their way out to where the unmarked black car sent from the Holy See was waiting for them.

TBC

Chapter Text

It takes several hours for the security team to locate Monsignor O’Malley, Cardinal Sabbadin and the Holy Father - serving at a food kitchen in clerical blacks.

Identifying clergy men in blacks - was understandably like locating a needle in the haystack, this is St. Peter’s Holy City after all.

The dean sat behind his desk, looking extremely disappointed as he glazed upon the three priests sitting on the couch looking more like three teenage boys caught doing something naughty by their teacher than men in their late 40s, 50s and 60s.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. O’Malley squirms uncomfortably while the Holy Father looks sheepishly anywhere but at his Dean and Secretary of State.    

Cardinal Sabbadin contemplates opening a window and lighting a cigarette, but doesn’t dare move when his eyes meet Bellini’s.

Dean Lawerence clears his throat, pulling his glasses from his shirt pocket holding the security team’s report of the incident in his hands.

“Gentlemen, would you like to explain to me how you managed to lose the Holy Father, head of the Roman Catholic Church, our dear shepherd and spiritual guide?” The Dean puts the file down, bringing his hands together, meeting each other their eyes

“They found me.” The Holy father said cheerfully.

“In my defense, I was left without adult supervision and I will probably do this again.”, Giulio replied crossing his arms.

“Raymond?” Lawerence prompted.

“I underestimated the power of the papal puppy dog eyes.” The Irishman gave the Dean an apologetic look.

Lawerence sighs, he doesn’t even know what to do with Benítez.

“Monsignor, I expect better of you.” , The Dean shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Dean.” Raymond looked down at his shoes.

Benítez makes a sound of protest but Lawerence doesn’t respond.

Fr. Lawerence having taught high school boys at a Catholic high school, seminarians as a Canon Law professor and charged with overseeing the accountability of the priests in his care, he had masted the art of discerning who is the ring leader and the one most likely to break

“Giulio, worst of I know you know better. When you know better, you do better.” Lawerence sighed.

As they had discussed earlier, Lawerence and Bellini excuse themselves remaining in ear shot of the men seated on the couch and pretend to have a brief disagreement on how to handle the situation before reappearing.

“Ruh roh. Mom and Dad are fighting.” Sabbadin commented.

O’Malley shuffled his feet, avoiding anyone’s eye contact.

“It is preferable to the divorce era they were in during the Conclave.” O’Malley replied.

“Aye that’s true.” Sabbadin concurred.

Benítez momentarily contemplated the absolute chaos he had invited into his life bringing his hands together.

Aldo and Thomas’ raised voices cease, as they shuffle back into the office.

Bellini leans against the window in Thomas’ office shaking his head. Lawerence looks extremely weary - making Raymond nearly fold in on himself despite his lanky limbs.

“This is my fault.” Benítez finally spoke up, itching to intervene.

“Oh - we’ll be circling back to this matter on Monday during staff.”, Bellini spoke up as he and Thomas exchanged a look.

“Regardless of who is responsible for this incident, I want to remind all three of you how lucky you are that nothing went wrong. It is a safety and security matter - that the Holy Father’s security team accompanies him.” Lawerence concluded.

“Yes, Dean Lawerence.”, all three men replied.

“My brothers in Christ, I am an old man. It is past my nap time.” Lawerence tapped his wrist watch dramatically for effect.

“Let the old man sleep. Lord knows, he hasn’t known peace in decades”, Bellini gave them a pointed look trying to convey: I worked so hard to get this man to relax and now you’ve raised his blood pressure, so help me God, I will haunt you until the end of time if you stress Dean Lawerence out anymore than he already is.

“Monsignor, Cardinal, you are dismissed. We will talk more on Monday.” Lawerence said leaving himself and Bellini to talk with the Holy Father alone.

Bellini and Lawerence shift strategies in their approach with Benítez. Thomas doesn’t sit behind the desk for this conversation, no, he takes a seat on the couch and takes one of Vincent’s hands in his.

Bellini leans against Thomas’ desk, no longer looking upset - rather extending a look of concern.

“We aren’t upset, Fr. Benítez. Lord knows you would not be the first pope to evade his security detail.” Lawerence sighed softly, rubbing at his temple.

“Sincerely , Dean, I did not mean to worry you and the Secretary.” Vincent said apologetically.

“I know. And I don’t want you to feel constrained. But please, let us know if you are feeling homesick or need to stretch your legs. This is Aldo and I’s third papacy to serve as advisors, we are here to help you figure out how to balance logistics, safety and following your heart’s desires.” Thomas squeezed Vincent’s hand softly.

“You’re right. I should’ve said something.” The Holy father agreed.

“Seriously, you I’m not as worried, well, you as in Fr. Benítez. But uh, the only thing Sabbadin and O’Malley are qualified to protect you from is a paper cut.” Aldo deadpanned.

“Good Lord, Aldo. Are we sure this isn’t a) one or both of us having a stroke? Or b) We’ve died and this is purgatory?”, Thomas rubbed his eyes tiredly .

“I fear at our age either is a possibility, but unfortunately, this is our lives, old man”. Aldo sighed.

The Holy father finds himself breaking out into a giggles. Lawerence and Bellini soon find themselves joining him.

“God, Thomas, I just kept hearing you say in such an exasperated tone in my head, ‘This is my third papacy as Dean - I will not stand for losing the Holy Father six months into his tenure’.” Aldo laughed.

“This isn’t even the first time I’ve experienced a Pope evade security.” Thomas had the audacity to look like a sopping wet cat left out in the rain.

Thomas soon yawns, getting both the Holy Father and Aldo’s attention.

“We really ought to get you into bed, darling.” Aldo said, putting a firm but gentle hand on Thomas’ shoulder.

“Hm, that sounds nice actually.” Thomas hummed.

Thomas, Vincent and Aldo end up walking back to the wing where the simple apartments house the Holy Father and their staff at the Casa Santa Marta - Vincent insisted on the simplicity not wanting the lavish fuss of the papal household.

Thomas rested his head on Aldo’s shoulder, getting more and more sleepy as they walked. It wasn’t long before Thomas ended up nestled between Vincent and Aldo’s outstretched arms holding him upright.

Aldo reached for his spare key to Thomas’ apartment and let them in. It took both Aldo and Vincent to steer Thomas to sit on his bed.

“Darling, can I help you out of your shoes?” Aldo asked gently.

“Okay.” Thomas agreed.

Gentle hands helped him out of his shoes, and jacket. Thomas wasn’t much help, eyes threatening to shut and limbs feeling heavy.

With Vincent’s help, Aldo got Thomas out of his day clothes, careful to mind his bandaged port and capped lines and into a pair of sweats and a worn well loved seminary t-shirt.

Vincent was accustomed to providing physical and basic medical care. He has tended the wounds  of war, cared for the dying, been shot at, had his life threatened by violence on more than one occasion.

He was careful not to make a sound of concern, but seeing how cancer has ravaged Thomas’ body, a long pinkish red scar four inch scar on his abdomen, scars from prior port placements, a still healing scar from the surgery to excise cancerous tissue from his cervical lymphatic system in his neck - much smaller and less invasive but a testament to what he has survived none the less.

The Holy father disappeared into the kitchen momentarily while Aldo helped Thomas settle into bed.   

“Just a second, darling, and then you can sleep.” Aldo murmured,  helping Thomas to take his afternoon dose of medication to help with the prevention of nausea and other side affects from the chemo.

“Hmm.” Thomas replied, shutting his eyes as his breaths became softer.

Aldo placed a kiss on his forehead, pulling the blanket around Thomas.

“Here I’ve got this.” Vincent said gently, sitting the basin of water and a rag on the nightstand. He wet the rag and drained the excess liquid, placing it on Thomas’ forehead.

Aldo made sure the trash bin was in reach, refilled Thomas’ glass of water and ensured anything he needed was within reach.

“I could take the first shift.” Vincent offered seeing the weariness creeping in on Aldo’s face, he hid it well, waiting until Thomas was sleeping and unable to see his fussing.

“Alright. I think I’ll try to get a snooze myself on the couch.” Aldo agreed.

Vincent pulled the desk chair up to the bed, turning off the light and settling into a meditative posture as he prayed softly for Thomas, asking for God’s healing and wholeness.

The Holy father kept his vigil. It wasn’t along before Aldo fell asleep himself. Vincent listened to the soft snores from Aldo, and watched Thomas’ face searching for any signs of pain or discomfort.

As the afternoon stretched into evening, Raymond and Guilio soon joined them. Raymond armed with supplies for making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Saddablin figured the least he could do is making Thomas’ load lighter, so he took up working on outline possible lecture points for the Dean to consider.

It was domestic- peacefully, it reminded Vincent of the close companionship he had know while a seminarian and on the occasions he lived in religious community with his clergy siblings.