Authors Note;

I know Carter is not a pastor who teaches about God and so on but in this story he is a catholic pastor. Don't like, don't read.

Anyway, that is just the prologue. I just want to see if anyone would be interested in this story because I have others I want to post. If you want to see this continue then, review please.

This story is all based on Carter, I felt as thought not enough people were making stories about him…(well I do not see any)…so I decided to make this story all about him and his past and struggles. This is the present but we will be going back to the past before we get back to this part. Hope you enjoyed. Please review! 3

Warnings;

Extreme Drama

Contains boyxboy relationships; no the story is not yaoi or anything, this story will mention it a few times but there will not be anything much because I myself do not like yaoi a lot but it kind of fit into this story a bit. I hope this warning does not scare of some of the readers! O.O

On with the story!

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When I was as a Saint

Prologue

Chapter 00;

"Not everyone wants to be a saint…at first"

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Rain hit the stain glass windows and dripped off the side of the church keeping a small soothing rhythm that seemed to calm the priest but each time his mind went back on track, his blood ran cold and his lungs tightened as though he could not breathe. His hand dripped the edge of the bench as his pale blue eyes glanced over at the windows staring into it as though it held all the answers to the questions that ran though his mind but at that moment not even those questions made sense because of the images and memories of the past flashed through his mind making him re live every picture, feeling…everything he had gone through. So even if he did ask himself questions, the answers were literally in front of his eyes but he would not accept it.

When coming to this small village, disconnected from the news and rumours of others of his old town, he made himself a new image, an image to last a life time, but that was his belief. Like some people say, the truth would lets you free, but in his situation, the truth might just lead him to murder or suicide. He gripped his head muttering silent pleas of redemption trying not to cry, he could not….he promised himself.

If anyone at this time walked in, they would most likely wonder what happened….. cool, calm, collected Carter…crying? Unusual site…..wouldn't it be? To see the one you flea to with your problems, struggling with their own. Now some would turn around and say no, it wouldn't be unusual but, at the beginning you thought this person was strong minded and powerful. Now he seems the same as you. Weak….not in control…hoping death took him now?

The raining poured harder and Carter sat alone silently hoping to see a ray of light….or maybe a bit of hope but it seemed like the person he once was is coming back and he could not stop this. This did not happen over night but started with a small phone call weeks before and small events that happened in the middle that made him break down. Carter stood up unable to stop the tears the came down his cheeks, not all people want to be saints at the beginning, they do things wrong then become a saint believing that they will do no wrong again.

Carter never wanted to be a saint, he was in a web of sadness, desperation and miss directed love that sent him on a spiral downwards and he felt as though he could never go back up but once he met another pastor, he felt hope and suddenly all of it was gone. If god actually existed, why would he do those things again, why would he make him do things wrong when he wants him wants to do right. Why would he make him feel so lost when he is suppose to go out and search for each one of his lost sheep, wasn't he a part of the heard or was he miss lead all these years…all these years…

His raised his shaking hands in front of his face seeing the damage, why was he shaking? Was personal image so important to him or was it the fact that he was beginning to fell again, to fell the oh so sinful pleasures that he craved when he was young and beginning to crave again. Swiftly he stood up and walked towards the platform and to rush into his room but he heard the church doors open and close with a small thud. Carter did not bother to turn around or run, knowing who it was and that he would run right after him.

"Carter..." the person whispered in a smooth and gentle tone and walked towards him. Without even looking at him he could hear that he was walking towards him because of the sound of his wet boots on the wood flooring. "Look at me..." the voice pleaded. Carter's eyes darted around quickly and something caught his eyes, a long sliver knife for his personal kitchen, he did not know exactly why he brought that up with him but something just made him bring it upstairs.

He picked it up from the small table which stood in front of him, slipped it into his pale hands and hid it in his long sleeve but his train of thought was ruined once again because of the two strong arms that wrapped around his small waist gently pulling him closer to the other. Carter was in shock, he could not move, speak or even pull away but once the blade of the knife pushed against his skin under the sleeve he was revived, spun around and struck, with all of his strength he struck. A weird rush or energy filled him but fear took over once he felt the knife sink into something solid.

His eyes widen as he watched the man's face turned into a face of pain, the man fell to the ground with a heart wrenching "thump" and Carter stood. His eyes were glazed over and he just stared, his eyes looked at the knife wound and the pool of blood that was beginning to form around the body, the man's white sweater soaked up some but more and more spilled and at one point he thought that maybe the whole church was now filled with blood and suddenly a new question come into his head.

"Would becoming a saint push him are far as murder?"

And he knew the answer was yes, that at lest he could accept that.