Chapter Text
Father Mulcahy wears around his neck a portrait in silver of a man being brutally tortured to death. It was a gift from his sister the Sister, he told Hawkeye.
Sometimes Hawkeye looks at it and sees the agony in the twisted limbs. More often, he only notices it as a hands-off warning. Sometimes when he’s close enough to Mulcahy to feel the tension in his compact body, hear his breathing catch, he thinks about taking it off.
But he knows it wouldn't change anything. Mulcahy isn't nailed to his cross: he's holding on to it, hard, with both hands.