Chapter Text
Blanc was special to Jud.
Not because he was a "proud heretic" or because he helped Jud with the case, but because of his encouragement, that grizzled determination and skepticism he'd shown at the time, not because of the honesty of his general dislike for Catholicism from his estranged mother, but because he'd been so observant, so interested in his case.
Interested in him.
He sat in the church, alone. Blanc was probably working on another case. Oh, what was he thinking? This southern detective that managed to keep him from the police's capture and instead capture his heart.. There's no way he'd show up. There's nothing he'd rather not do, right? So what's the point?
Jud was seated in the very front row in the pews. He tossed the phone in his hands back and forth, every so often lingering on his contacts before closing it. He'd fiddled with the device for about fifteen minutes. Something, anxiety maybe, crawled up and down his back, making him feel a strange, humiliating sensation whenever he looked at Detective Blanc's contact.
He wanted to call him so bad...
Jud shoved the phone in his pocket, standing up and fixing his outfit with frantic precision. There was nothing wrong with it, he just desperately needed to distract himself from his thoughts. He hurried out of the church, making sure everything was secure and locked down before he went to the rectory. While walking, hands deep in his pockets and his breathing uneven, he looked up at the sky. It was a mix of oranges, reds, pinks and blues, the last of the day fading into the sunset. The beautiful gradient in the sky distracted him for a bit before he found himself at the door. He sighed, making his way to his room and falling into his bed, still troubled with thoughts about the detective.
He pulled out his phone, scrolling on the internet for a bit before closing the apps and staring at his home screen. The phone app was there -- he could call Blanc.
But would he answer?
Blanc obviously didnt want to be in the church, or even around it. His work is with logistics and facts, he doesn't care for religion or faith. He's atheist and definitely not looking to convert, and besides, his estranged mother was Catholic. That was most likely some trauma that he didnt want to bring up. The church isn't really a nice place to him. So he probably wouldn't want to see Jud. Would he? He hoped he would. Blanc was probably somewhere else, enjoying himself now that he's finally away from the church.
If only he just had the courage to call him.
Benoit was not enjoying himself.
He was at a bar, with some friends who'd help keep him occupied outside of cases. Marta and Helen, his accomplices from older cases were there too. Phillip and him had recently divorced.. It was messy and it's left him bitter, like the amber liquid in his glass that he's barely touched. He takes another drag of his cigar, staring into the still fluid. He was miserable. The company of his friends didn't help, as much as they tried. He hadn't wished to talk about the divorce either, which made them feel as if it was, indeed, that bad. They gave him space for a bit, the solitary atmosphere adding to how depressing it felt.
Phillip was apparently fed up with Benoit for leaving no time for him during cases, and his "boredom" while Phillip was right there between them.
Benoit felt guilty. Angry and ashamed. He could drown himself in his drinks all night but it wouldn't distract him from the dismal feelings that permeated the atmosphere, from the spiraling doubt that filled him.. He was hopeless.
The grating sound of a phone vibrating against wood reached his ears, snapping him out of his spiral. He was about to decline and go right back to being depressed, but his hand lingered as he saw the name flashing across the screen.
"Father Jud"
Should he answer? He knew Jud was busy, and he'd had a mass today, so he was most likely tired. But he could really use the company. He took his phone, answering the call with a sigh and putting it to his ear.
"Father Jud? You, uh.. Needed something?"
His voice came out sheepish, nervous on the other end.
"Blanc.. Hello. Hi. Uhh.. How are you? What's going... Y'know how's it going?"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jesus. No, wait, not Jesus. What was he doing?
".. Jud are- are you alright? You sound like you're a bit nervous."
"Yeah! Yeah, no I'm.. I am okay, Blanc... Soooo what are you up to?"
Benoit hesitates for a few seconds before responding with a hint of reluctant in his voice.
"Well, I'm out at a bar.. Drinking to forget. Not really my style, but if I'm being honest... I need it after today."
Jud seems to think for a minute before responding. "What happened, Blanc?"
It was in that tone he'd use for people who came to the church with troubles to lay down and confess. But with a bit more hope that it'd get Blanc to open up.
And so he did.
Benoit spilled everything about the divorce to him. It was terrible. Jud felt the sadness rolling off Blanc in waves, even though the phone as he nearly cried into the speaker. He thought about it, and it was like when they first met. He was sad and desperate, looking to Christ because he'd been named a killer priest.
Then Benoit Blanc came to help.
So he decided that he'd do the same for Blanc.