AN: I'm Christian, but I try not to write "religious" stories. However, I needed some way to explore these guys properly, and since I had already determined their Christianity, this was as good a way as any. Also, I am not politically correct. Ergo, if you whine, I'll laugh at you. So, enjoy the character study.

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon isn't mine. But the story is.

heart of the pack, part 1: confession.

The cathedral resonated with hymns as Alan approached it. He watched the faces of the people who left it, and could tell that the priest was doing confessions. He muted his MP3 player and thought for a moment. As he thought, he remembered the scene that had caused him to go wandering.

Michael had been understanding, and so had Matthew, but Sean could be vicious sometimes, and Timothy's constant conviction was little help. Michael had proposed the simple approach, and Matthew had confirmed it, without his mirror, something that was getting increasingly rare. Alan had been all for the idea, but a bitter comment from Sean, reminding Alan of the last time he had proposed a plan, had nearly crushed Alan's flagging spirit. Alan, who hadn't felt very good about crushing those girls the other day, and had felt really bad about threatening them earlier, had argued against Michael's harshness. Sean, angry at having been left out of the fight, and annoyed at how Alan was, as he put it, "harping" on the threat, had lashed out angrily. The entire group had frozen. That had been dangerously close to the enemy. Sean had realised this, and had immediately apologised and tried to change the subject, but the damage had been done. The five men, especially Alan, who was never extremely happy with the lot the group had, were reminded of the weight they had pressing down on them. Michael had immediately sent them out on reconnaisance, requesting a rendezvous in three hours outside the Moonfire Headquarters. And so, Alan found himself wandering around the downtown, near a Catholic curch, of all things. He was Catholic, not very strong, not as strong as Sean was a Baptist, but nonetheless Catholic. He decided to go in, see if the preist was willing to offer some counseling.

He entered the cathedral, and the hymns jumped in volume. He made the cross with the holy water, then went to the confessional. Someone was already in there, so he sat in a pew nearby to wait. After about five minutes, a woman left the confessional, her eyes shining. The priest also left, shaking his head, and noticed Alan. "Oh, my son, are you here to confess?" he asked politely.

"No, Father. I come seeking counsel. If this is a bad time, I could come later..." Alan replied.

"Please, enter. Whether it is confession or counsel, I am always available. I notice by your accent that you are from America?"

"Yes. I am. Thank you for your time, Father. I'm feeling so...lost." Alan entered the confessional, followed only a moment later by the priest.

"Oh, indeed? I can help with that. So, how are you feeling lost? What have you lost?"

"Well, its just...I can't always see the good of my actions. I feel sometimes as if I were slipping into darkness..."

"Everyone sins, my son. The Christian walk is simply a means of leaving that behind you."

"That's not it at all! Ahhh, maybe I'm better off just pondering this on my own!" he got up to leave, but stopped when the priest called out.

"Wait, my son! I'm sorry, I jumped to a conclusion. Forgive me. Tell me what you meant."

"All right." Alan sighed and sat back down. "You see, for the past several years, my friends and I have been...fighting, often without hope."

"There is always hope, my son. Please, go on."

"All right. Now, I know that we fight for right and justice, but...sometimes, I just get discouraged. I feel as if there isn't any meaning behind our struggle. I mean, eventually we'll just become what we fight, after all."

"No! If you become what you fight, then God's truth is not in you! You need to remember that you are on God's side, and He doesn't allow any of his own to fall."

"Hmmm. I guess you're right...I mean, we won't really become evil, we'll just stop being able to fight. But still, the time when we must lay down our weapons and give up the fight seems to get ever closer. Even now, I can feel the weight of it pressing down on me."

"Remember, my son, God wants to help us with our burdens. Now, I know you don't really need this, but I think it would be good for you to confess your sins."

"Hmmm. I guess so. At the very least, it'll help get some of the weight off my chest. Here goes. Let's see...I think I've gone about half a year since my last confession, but I was away, on business for much of it, away from a church where I could confess."

"That's not too bad. Many wait over a year. You may begin."

"Thank you. Hmmm...I have used the name of the Lord in vain, thirteen times. Generally in situations where another word would have fit better. I was not honouring to my parents, five times, I think. Each time I was keeping a secret from them. I have not coveted, lusted, or stolen. I have always placed God first. Now comes the biggie...I have killed, oh, 67 people, maybe more, since my last confession."

"And do you even now lie in the confessional?"

"Sorry, I can't be expected to keep track of every single enemy that I kill, can I? After all, half the time I'm not even certain the guy is dead."

"You haven't killed that many, have you?"

"Plus or minus a few, but otherwise yes, I have. A friend of mine's got nearly double my count, though."

"So many...why did you kill them?"

"Why? Because they were evil. Because if they had kept living, they would have hurt or even killed others, people who couldn't fight back."

"But who are you to judge that?"

"You see, Father! That's exactly what I struggle with! Who am I to kill so many? Why do I? Who cares, anyway?"

"God cares, my son. Perhaps you should stop killing?"

"I can't do that yet."

"Why?"

"Because, as long as there's even the slightest chance of doing some good with my blade, I must fight! Because I am a Wolf! And a Wolf cannot simply die when it becomes discouraging! Now I see! I feel so much better! Thank you! You were right! Confession really does help!" As he finished, there was a strange noise from the other side of the booth, and a hand burst through the partition! Alan leapt back, catching up against the back wall, then spun away towards the door. He burst through, just as the other side opened. The priest stepped out, wearing the blue robe of Shade possession! Alan gazed at the man, then drew his dagger sadly. "I'm so sorry, Father. I have no choice. I will make it quick." He charged, slashing at the Shadepriest. His strike was deep, and the creature screamed in agony. The few people in the cathedral rapidly ran out, frightened. The Shade obviously gave the gift of eloquence, as the hybrid spoke rapidly, trying to persuade Alan to spare it. But he did not relent. After several moments, he finally got in a killing blow. He sat there, staring at the body, when without warning the Shade sprung from the body and exploded. As soon as it was gone, the priest sat up, a confused expression on his face.

"Oh dear. I'm sorry, my son. I absolve you of your sins, but think on what I said, and try to stop killing so many. Now, I must go home and rest. Confession is closed for the day." Alan simply knelt on the marble of the cathedral, gazing at the massive crucifix on the far wall.

"Thank you." He murmured. He was indebted to that priest, and to have slain him wasn't something he wanted to face up to. He sat in a pew and prayed for a few minutes, then left for the rendezvous, fully restored.