Broken Hallelujah

Well, maybe there is a God above
But, all that I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
And it's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it is a broken hallelujah
-Hallelujah, by Allison Crowe

As some of the best stories start, this one begins on a cold and rainy night in mid-September. A downpour so heavy, hardly any living creature was out from its home. All that is, for one living creature who did not need the road nor rain to reach home.

With a bamf that resounded loudly against the walls of the Germanic church, Monsignor Kurt Wagner teleported into the entrance archway. The moonlight was so bright that night despite the rain, the stained glass windows could be seen almost clearly. Stumbling upon his arrival due to the groceries in his arms, he failed to catch notice of the solitary shadow in the confession booth. With his animal-like ears, however, he caught the sound of fast breathing and tipped his cloak's hood back with his tail in curiosity.

The breathing turned into a light sob, stifled midway and Kurt noiselessly put his groceries down on the closest pew and proceeded to the confession booth. He didn't bother to put his cloak back up. His congregation knew what he looked like and even if the person giving confession didn't know him, they couldn't see him anyway through the screen in the old fashioned booth. He sat down and the light sobbing stopped abruptly though the heavy breathing did not.

"Good Evening" he said softly. "You really shouldn't be out in rain like this"

The voice was feminine and relatively young. It was also deathly familiar. "Neither should you" it responded with resolve and only the slightest bit of concern. Kurt knew so many people from being an X-Man, an actor for a short period of time and now a monsignor that he couldn't really place it.

Kurt blessed the girl, making the sign of the cross in the air. "Go ahead" he prompted her.

She didn't follow confession format, she probably didn't know it. Kurt wasn't surprised, the church he was currently residing in had been abandoned for years and the locals hadn't had one for over a century.

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry…"

The stranger took a shuddering breath and exhaled just as shakily. Kurt lowered his eyes.

"For what, child?"

"For being born"

The answer surprised Kurt. When he was about to speak, however, she spoke again.

"Does…Did God make everything? Good, I mean" she asked unsurely.

Kurt smiled warmly now, knowing his smile would catch onto his voice. "Yes, my heart, God created each and every one of us in his image"

There was silence for a moment and all that could be heard was the hard patter of rain against the roof and windows of the church. Then she spoke up again, her voice pained "Is God a murderer?"

The way she said those words was what jogged Kurt's memory and he realized where he knew that voice. For a couple of moments, he couldn't believe his ears. He leaned foreword against the screen so that his face could be illuminated by the moonlight and he could be seen clearly, even with the screen.

"Laura?" he asked cautiously. She didn't jump or seem surprised at the recognition at all. She probably knew the whole time.

Another sob made it past her lips and she leaned foreword into the moonlight as well. In fifteen years, she had aged maybe three due to her healing factor. She was donning a similar cloak to the one Kurt wore and most of the locals wore and she'd cut her hair shoulder length. Her face, Kurt remembered, had always been colored with dark eyeliner and shadow and black lipstick. Bare and unadorned now in the brilliant moonlight, Kurt couldn't help but wonder why she had ever worn it in the first place. The only thing different about her that he could actually tell was the scar that stretched from her tear duct across her left cheek to below her ear. He'd been looking at it because the glimmer of her tears had caught his eye.

"Hi" she whispered, her voice now quivering. He wasn't sure if it was emotion or the cold. She was utterly drenched and Kurt was surprised he hadn't noticed the puddles on the floor.

"Laura, what are you doing here?" he asked still keeping his face to the screen.

She cast her eyes down and bit her lip, very un-Laura-like by Kurt's memories, and said in a voice barely audible, "I had nowhere else to go"

Kurt opened the door and stepped out of the booth then opening her door and helping her out. He could see more clearly now that she was shivering and had her arms crossed over her chest. He held her by her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Why here?" he asked her softly.

"The…the mansion was gone" she stammered trying to get her words out, "I tried to track down…some of the others but…but…there were so many new graves, and they were all over the place…"

He wanted to ask her what had happened, where she'd been all these years, why she had chosen to find him. But she was going to get sick in her wet clothes. He sat her down in the first pew and she continued shivering and panting.

"I'll get you another robe" he told her and then teleported to a room behind the altar where he kept all his mass supplies including outfits and cloaks. It took him a moment to shuffle through them and find one that would fit her snugly and warmly. He additionally grabbed a glass of water from the fridge where the wine was kept and teleported back out.

When he did, he noticed she was looking intently at the crucifix on the wall behind the altar. It had been made and donated by a local artist out of wood and ceramic. It wasn't perfect but looked exactly appropriate for the church it was housed in.

"Is He then?" she asked again. "A murderer?"

"Laura…" he sighed, sitting down next to her, laying the cloak across her shoulders and pressing the glass into her hands, "God is not a murderer"

She met his yellow eyes with her tear filled chocolate ones.

"Then why am I?" she cried out. Her 'I' echoed for a moment afterward before being enveloped in the rain. Kurt observed her with sympathy as more tears forced themselves from her eyes and offered her a hug. She took it willingly, crying freely into his chest. He pressed his lips to the crown of her in a chaste kiss.

"Laura, God is not a murderer and neither are you"

"Yes I am!" Her voice was muffled by her tears and his cloak. "I'm a monster…I've killed dozens of…p-people…hundreds…"

"But you didn't do it on purpose" he said as ran his hand up and down her spine soothingly. "You may have been a killer but you were never a murderer"

She mumbled something into him and Kurt gently shushed into her hair. She spoke up again, clearer.

"Did God make me a killer?"

The corners of Kurt's lips turned up in the smallest of bittersweet smiles. "Weapon X might have made you a killer but God made you for something else entirely"

She pulled back and watched his face again. Her teary and strained eyes held a spark of curiosity. "What?"

"No one know, sweetheart, no one knows"

He petted her hair as she leaned into his chest and her breathing began to slow.

"Will I-will I ever find out?" she asked softer, weaker. At first Kurt thought she was falling asleep but he suddenly realized that even with the new cloak on, he felt liquid penetrating his own cloak. It wasn't water.

"Laura?" he asked, suddenly frightened. He held her out at arm's length and saw the large blood stain around the area of her stomach. She didn't care.

"Answer me…please" she whispered.

"We have to get you to a hospital" Kurt addressed her firmly. He tried to stand up, mentally chiding himself. He should've known from the moment he'd first seen her. People with healing factors didn't have scars.

With surprising strength, she clamped her hand over his wrist. "No" she begged, "I-I don't want to leave yet"

Kurt sat back down and looked into her eyes resolutely. He was sure she wanted to just die but she was just a child. He was an adult, he knew better. About to tell her just as much, Kurt held his tongue when he looked at her eyes again. The pain in them proved him wrong instantly. He truly had no idea what she'd been through.

"You still have to answer my question" It was her first straight and flat out sentence that evening, despite her deteriorating condition. Kurt didn't want to answer her: his head wasn't exactly clear at the moment with the smell of blood. He knew Laura, however, so he knew she wouldn't let him take her without an answer.

She groaned suddenly and fell across into his shoulder. Kurt grabbed her tightly and already had the hospital in mind when she spoke up. But as far as Kurt could tell, she wasn't talking to him.

"Oh" she whispered plainly. Her eyes were drifting closed "That works. Thank you"

Despite his adrenaline or maybe because of it, Kurt looked up towards the altar. Then he looked back at Laura, the sense of irony breaking through his frown.

"Don't thank me"

And with another bamf, the downpour was left to continue its cathedral psalm uninterrupted.