Author's Note: Just a little something I've come up. Although it was probably for the best that Sister Mary Eunice was killed in 'The Name Game' I still would have liked to have seen a litte more interaction between she and the Monsignor. Here is my take on what may have happened had he performed an exorcism upon her instead of tossing her from the third storey.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and the FX network.

The following morning, a gloom had set around Briarcliff, and thus affecting patients and staff alike. All except for one member of staff, Sister Mary Eunice. Each morning, she rose, washed and dressed before making her bed and making certain she was presentable enough to join rank with Sister Jude. This morning had been no different for her. Even as a douer looking Monsignor shuffled sleepily into the room, she did not flinch.

The morning meal consisted of oatmeal or porridge usually, and two slices of toast, made fresh at the bakery the evening before. As Timothy sat opposite her, at the other end of the table, she regarded him, giving a shy nod as he reached for yesterday's newspaper. The Monsignor returned her nod, giving a cautious smile to her, causing her to drop her gaze into the steaming bowl, before he sipped back the cocoa one of Eunice's fellow nuns placed before him.

"Another glorious day I see, here at Briarcliff..." he commented, not generally to Sister Mary Eunice nor the nun who had set his place at the table. Though the young blonde did casually glance over to him, swallowing as she saw how he carried himself, he exuded authority, Jude was right; this man belonged in Rome. Turning, he smiled to her, opening the conversation to her, "Wouldn't you agree, Sister Mary Eunice? The sun will soon cast its rays and the gloom will have cleared."

"Oh...o-of course, Monsignor." she nodded hastily, agreeing with him before once again averting her gaze to the steaming bowl of porridge. When she glanced back over to Timothy, he had lit his cigarette and was puffing away on it, exhaling those ominous clouds of smoke, and they lingered around the room, leaving the air stale and foul. She cleared her throat slightly before wiping her mouth on the napkin which she then placed over her mouth, furrowing her brows as she stood, "Excuse me, Father. I must start my days' work." she nodded, swiftly scurrying from the room.

Later that evening, Sister Mary Eunice decided to finally pay a visit to the Chapel at Briarcliff. She had not been there since before her sweet soul had been overruled by the Devil himself. Pushing open the door, cautiously, she stepped inside. Everything was exactly the way she had remembered it; the stained glass twinkling just so in the last light of the day, the candles burning and the musky aroma of the incense lingered. She had missed this place of solitude, of sanctuary from the day's demons that haunted her mind.

As the door swung closed behind her, Sister Mary Eunice became aware of the crucifix hanging above the pulpit and altar, His wide eyes staring down upon her form, was he judging her for staying away for so long? Mary Eunice hoped not. Casting her eyes away from Jesus' searing glare, to the candles standing daintily in rows like white soldiers, Eunice passed them by, heading toward the confessional booths, the curtain was drawn. Upon her first glance, she wondered if someone had forgotten to draw it back, but she saw shoes, well polished and kept.

Approaching the booth, she heard of no exchange from within, so she drew back the curtain, finding the booth as she thought; empty. Stepping inside, Mary Eunice sighed softly, drawing back the curtain before she sat on the chilled bench inside, taking out her beaded rosary. The blonde took a moment before she managed to speak up, "Forgive me, Father...I have committed some terrible sins's been, a long time since my last confession..." she swallowed shakily, "I can't turn to anybody else."

"That is quite all right, my daughter...God does not judge on how long you have been absent, but by..."

His voice. Of course it would be he. The Monsignor. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Sister Mary Eunice had to get out. She had thought it would be a welcomed differentiation on her usual evening genuflection in her staff quarters, how terribly wrong she had been. Standing, Mary Eunice flung back the velvetine curtain and rushed out of the confessional. He was fast though.

"Sister! Sister Mary Eunice." Timothy had grabbed her, first at her wrist to stop her from leaving, he only wanted to talk. When he was sure she was not going to move, he moved his hands to her upper arms, holding her there in front of him, "Why must you continue to evade me, Sister? Is the pain from those wretched moments still not clear of your mind? I have returned to Briarcliff, and have tried to befriend you, after your forgiveness, yet you continue to avoid. Sister, are you angry with me? With our dear Lord...?"

Her hands had now snaked to his wrists, not really trying to peel away his hands from her, as she shook. Her head was bowed slightly, as her bottom lip quivered. When she tilted her head to look at Timothy, she sniffled, choking out a sob, "F-Father...p-please, please let me..." she trailed off instantaneously as the doors of the Chapel whooshed open.

Sister Jude's eyes flicked between the Monsignor and Sister Mary Eunice, seeing her nose somewhat raw, her eyes pained as she stood before Timothy, their hands upon each other. Mary Eunice was not touching his out of affection or friendship, as the Monsignor was to her. The older nun cleared her throat, "Sister Mary Eunice...Doctor Arden would like a word, he says he'll meet you in your's urgent."

Timothy dropped his hands from Eunice's arms and watched as the young blonde hurried from the Chapel, she could not get out of the doors sooner. Jude, however, remained. His head was bowed slightly, but her rolled his eyes and glanced to her, his right hand from under a prominent brow, ready for the verbal beating she was about to lash out upon him.

Stepping closer to Timothy now, Jude sighed, taking in his expression, "What on Earth was that about, Timothy...?" she asked him.

"Sister Mary Eunice has..." he sighed, leaning forwards and resting his hands agains the backrest of the final pew, "She seems weary...evasive of me, Jude. I have reason to believe she's angry with me..." he glanced sideways to her, nodding slowly, "I am seeking counsel from you, dear friend. Can you tell me what it is that's bothering our dear Sister?"

Jude allowed her eyes to narrow before she crossed her arms over herself, "She's an impressionable girl...anything that happens has an impact upon her, some things she still doesn't understand. And with the events that...occurred...the affects those had upon her, Timothy..." Jude shook her head, "She's been developing, nurturing those affects. People process God's work in mysterious ways, Timothy. You should allow her more time..." she spoke up, pushing off the backrest and heading towards the doors to leave him alone, "She'll come to you, eventually..."