Sins of Love and Past

By DragonMage

Notes: *grins* I was reading The Witching Hour by Anne Rice when I came by this line, "Bless me father, for I have sinned." And then, bam! I got this idea! *laughs* Amazing, ain't it? A line like that lead to so many other ideas...So, you can say this fic was somewhat inspired by Anne Rice and that line, albeit it's a pretty common thing to say in a church and stuff when you're confessing. I think. I'm not sure since I'm not Christian or Catholic, but I'm a Buddhist.

Prologue

The father of the old dilapidated St. Stephen's church sighed softly as he waited for the woman to leave the confession box. She had been a very nervous woman, almost near hysterics as she cried and cried while pouring out a tale that was so outrageous the father wouldn't have believed if she hadn't sound so completely sincere. Poor woman. He had given her the best advice he could think of, and swore never to tell another living soul. But then, that is the seal of confession. He couldn't utter another word to anyone unless the person gives him permission.

He had thought that was the last of the confessions for the day when suddenly the door slid open and someone stepped inside. The footsteps were heavy, as if the person was so exhausted, he or she could barely get one self to move. The father could smell the light scent of shampoo and soap mixed with something almost like...gun powder. He wondered what *this* person had to say to him.

Waiting patiently until he thought the other person was ready to speak, the father cleared his mind from the last confession, ready to listen to this new one, and turned towards the little window that opened to the other side. He pulled it open and peered through the thin screen. He couldn't see very well but he could make out a distinctly male person on the other side. Although, this person had a long braid going down his back that was slightly messy and wore a priest's outfit. He was clutching a gold cross and looked absolutely mad with nervousness and fear and possibly, disgust?

The young man cleared his throat noisily.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," he whispered shakily. "I haven't been to confession in years and I have much to say."

"Go on," the father said gently, well aware that this young man was very, very shaken over something.

The young man was silent for a moment. He bowed his head and said almost inaudibly, "I have fallen in love."

The father almost blinked. He was a bit surprised. "Love, my son? There is no sin in love."

"Oh, but you're wrong, father. So very wrong. I have fallen in love with another man, you see," the young man said, almost shrilly and mockingly.

The father nodded, sorting his thoughts before replying carefully, "There is no sin in love, my son, no matter where you find it."

The boy shook his head. "You don't understand. This love...It's wrong!"

The father waited for the boy to go on.

"Oh, it's so wrong but I love him so much, so very much," the boy whispered brokenly. "When I was only a child, I had visions. Well, maybe not visions but dreams. I don't know, really. What I remember is that when I was little I used to dream about him. He's beautiful, father, absolutely beautiful. I thought it was just dreams, you know? Things that'll only go away when I get older. But they didn't. At first I dreamt of him smiling, laughing, asking me to come play with him in these very old woods that he lived in, where I first met him."

"You've met him before?" the father asked.

The boy paused for a moment, seemingly to gather his thoughts. "Yes, I have. But I'll tell you about that later. First, I have to tell you about the dreams or you won't understand why I have sinned. Why I feel this agonizing pain in my heart every time I look at him. How I so desperately want to take him into my arms and hold him forever." The boy swallowed hard. "The dreams came almost every night since I could remember. They were always the same until I got older and they changed, just a bit. We'd be doing different things, you know. Either we're swimming or singing or just holding each other.

"I grew up in a church. Well, not really. I lived there for a long time though. I'm an orphan, you see. Well, anyways. I grew up in a church so I know the Lord. I listened to Father Maxwell's stories of God every night when he used to tuck me in. Sometimes it was Sister Helen who told me the stories. But either way, I knew them. So I know what I have done is bad. So very, very bad." The boy's voice cracked, he was near tears. "I've done so much evil..."

"Tell me what you have done and allow me to tell you whether or not what you have done is evil," the father coaxed gently. This boy was obviously very young, he couldn't have done something "evil" at this age! No, surely this boy has done nothing but a small sin and made it far too big of a deal.

"I *know* it's evil! Betrayal, lust, death...," the boy trailed off, losing himself. He shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes before they spilled. "I used to dream about him. A lot. Every single night. When I grew older, the dreams were much more detailed and...erotic." The father could imagine the boy blushing at that word. "Very erotic. We used to...we used to do things--together. It always left me sweating when I wake up, and I always discover I leave a mess. Thankfully, Sister Helen only assumed it was wet dreams and left it at that. She truly didn't know what really went on inside of my head, in my dreams.

"And sometimes, it's not only in my dreams, you know. Sometimes I stare off to nothing and allow my thoughts to wander and he's there! He's always there, haunting me, tempting me. He wears nothing but a simple, thin robe that can easily be torn away...or at least that's what I "remember". You see, I can never be sure of myself when it came to him. Or at least, not until recently when I discovered the truth of everything!" The boy's voice rose sharply and fell as quick. He was breathing harshly as he sniffed and tears came down. His voice was thick when he continued. "I've done so much bad in my life. Taken away so many lives without a single thought or hesitation."

"I'm not here to judge, my son," the father said very gently, knowing that this boy was in much distress and should be treated with care.

"I know, you're only here to listen," the boy said, nodding as he brushed away the tears and sniffed loudly. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes and rubbed harshly. "I'm not usually like this. I haven't cried since...Since my life went down in flames."

"It's all right."

"No," the boy said, taking a deep shaky breath, "it's not all right. Not until...Until I can find some sort of redemption! Do you understand, father? I have to find redemption, a way to atone for my sins...Or maybe, I have. I don't know!!" He paused again. "Back to the dreams. It wasn't until recently I realized these dreams were not dreams at all. Far from that! I was...traveling, you can say, when I saw him. There he was, dressed in white traditional like clothing that sort of resembles the clothing he wore in the past. His dark hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail rather than having it down like he used to have it. He almost seemed like a completely different person I knew of in my dreams, but you know what told me it was him?"

The father was about to prompt him when the boy rushed forward.

"His eyes. His eyes, through all that time, was still the same! They were still the same beautiful obsidian gems that shone with the love and warmth I knew! Of course, he did one helluva job hiding it. I almost lost hope until I saw him reading one day in the living room. He was curled up on the old couch, reading. It was probably a pretty funny book since he was smiling and his eyes were bright with amusement. It was beautiful! Of course, he thought he was alone when this happened. Probably one of the few times he actually dropped that goddamned mask of his. It's like ice! God, sometimes I either wanted to punch him for being an ass or hold him and never let go because that was the boy I knew and fell in love with. Such indecision, you can see."

The father almost smiled. This boy was obviously in love with this other boy. He was afraid, suddenly, that if they do ever come together people might scorn them. He didn't know exactly why, but he felt for this boy and he didn't this child to get hurt. He was already so young and dealing with so much anguish, although the father had no idea where it could stem from.

"What can I do but love him from afar. It's the only way to protect him!" the boy suddenly said with great conviction.

"From what, my son? What do you have to protect this boy from?"

"Me. The past. EVERYTHING!"

"Doesn't he have a right to know and love as well?"

"Oh, are you judging me, father? No, of course not. Please, just listen to me and you'll know why I have to do this," the boy said softly.

"Keep him from the truth?"

"Yes!"

"Very well."

The boy took a deep breath and nodded. "Don't doubt my love for him, it runs as long and true and deep as the ocean. Maybe even deeper! For our love has been around for such a long, long time..."

The father was very confused. "What are you saying?"

"We knew each other in another life, father," the boy said in wonder. "We knew each other in another life! I know it! Every time I'm with him or watch him I can see flashes after flashes of times before our time! Before! It wasn't until a few days ago all the pieces of this stupid puzzle finally fell in place and I remembered everything. You can't imagine what kind of pain I went through when I remembered everything. It was horrible! That's why I'm here. I can't take the pain anymore, father, I just can't!"

There was a long silence, broken only by the boy's harsh breathing and quiet sobbing. The father's heart went out to the boy; he was in so much pain! How could such a young child be going through so much pain?

"I've hurt so many people, in this life and the last," the boy said dully. "Death surrounds me--for I am Death." The boy sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Let me tell you everything. From the very beginning to now. Because there is no end to my story, but merely one chapter after another..."

"I'm listening, my son."

"Thank you. It all started..."

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Sooo, tell me what you think so far! I had this running through my head since 6th period until after I took my shower and finally sat myself in front of my computer and typed it out. *grin and bows*

Started: January 10, 2001