Chapter Text
When the professor good-naturedly slipped a note with the address to “St. Mary’s catholic church” into his English lit assignment, Kurt did not plan on visiting. It was not that he did not believe there was much to gain from worship at a holy place, in fact he found it a was something he’d wanted to do for a long time. But with catching up on years of lost schoolwork and all the adventures he and the rest of the x-men seemed to get into, there wasn’t nearly enough time to worship regularly.
There never really had been back home in Germany either. With all the training and picking up and moving, a traveling circus had never been ideal home to get to mass. In fact, the only mass he had attended was at a local Bavarian church on Christmas day.
It was a place where people weren’t as open minded as they were willing to let things slide, if only for one day a year. Not to mention the resident priest had a soft spot for the weird and unfavorable. Sometimes the church was full he’d hold two separate sermons, just too see to both locals and travelers alike. He’d been a strict but good man and although Kurt only ever visited the old stone building once a year, it had felt like a second home.
But in light of the neon cross before him, the church of his youth only seems more distant than ever and Kurt is suddenly very unsure that he will find the peace he is looking for here. The brownish gray box doesn’t exactly scream enlightenment either, but there’s a sign hanging inside of the glass doors which reads “open 24/7”, which is admirable considering the place is all but deserted.
If nothing else, he thinks he ought to give it a chance. It isn’t like he has much left to loose anyway.
The inside of the church is sparse, with two rows of hardwood pews lining a carpeted floor, white walls and only a small altar in wood and a large wooden cross. To the left, a medium-sized stained glass window has been put up as décor only. Kurt scans the room but is sorely disappointed. There’s a confession booth, but it’s stuffed into a corner, clearly not in use, as an American flag has been placed in front of the entryway.
He almost convinces himself that it isn’t meant to be and that it’d be rude to walk with bare feet onto the carpeted floors, but only before his curiosity takes over. Instead he ends up walking straight up to the altar like he’s a man on a mission. He picks a candle at random and lights as delicately as he can manage with his three fingers. Then kneels down, clasps his hands and prays.
“Dear lord please forgive me for I have sinned. I have gone against my convictions in many ways recently. I have given in to both lust and pride alike and now I am lost. The path to heaven has never seem so far away and I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what to ask of you. I am sorry. Amen.”
The words did not make him feel much better than when he spoke them by his bedside this morning, but it was worth a shot. He considers trying again, but louder this time, when a voice cuts throught the silence.
“What’s a young lad like you doing up at 7 am on a Thursday?”
Kurt spins around, scrambling to hide his tail and face under his hat and trenchcoat.
“Wh-who’s there?” He stutters, cursing himself for not being able to sound more threatening than a small mouse.
“Just an old geezer, boy. Nothing to be afraid of.” An old man answers from across the room. He doesn’t seem very threatening with his thinning white hair, cane and big yellow sunglasses, but Kurt’s been wrong before.
Wait sunglasses indoors? A cane?
“You’re blind.” Kurt’s so relieved he accidentally gives voice his thought.
“Yes?” The man responds and plops down on the nearest bench with a groan.
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me I–” Kurt tries to apologize, but ends up stumbling up his words, something about the man seems to command respect even though he’s all smile-lines and polo shirt.
“Don’t worry about it. Most tend to tip-toe around me these days. Sometimes it hardly feels like they know I’m there.... I respect some good-natured honesty.”
Kurt is unsure how to respond. The man doesn’t seem like the kind looking for pity or even a helping hand. But the notion of being excluded because of something you cannot help is something Kurt very much relates to. He wishes there was something but there is not much he can do for a man who cannot see his tricks. Though that doesn’t mean Kurt would feel comfortable simply ignoring the man and returning to prayer after a revelation like that.
“Oh… well… I should probably leave you in peace.” He says and makes a move for the exit, but the man let’s his cane shoot out as a barrier, almost tripping Kurt in the process.
“No-no. The house of the lord is a place for everyone.” The man says with a smile that’s more denture than teeth.
“Even if you’ve done something unforgivable?” Kurt doesn’t know why he shares this. Maybe it’s the attitude of the man rubbing off, maybe the church itself is compelling him to be more forthcoming or maybe it’s just a habit of living in America for so long.
Whatever the case, he figures it can’t really hurt since he does not even know this man.
“Look kid, I don’t know what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into. But I’ve sat next to soldiers, praying for the men they’ve killed. As long as you regret it, the lord forgives, I’m sure.” The man gestures wildly with both cane and hands alike as he speaks, unknowingly pushing Kurt back into his original spot by the altar.
“What if you do not regret it?” Kurt asks, scanning the room for any other possible exit, as he does not want to scare the man, but at the same time does not appreciate being kept in a conversation against his will.
“Now, that is a headscratcher for you...” The man pauses for quite some time, scratching his chin not his head, despite his comment.” I guess it depends on why you don’t regret it.” He finally concludes with a satisfied smirk and yet another cane-swipe.
“I am not sure I follow.” Kurt answers, just narrowly avoiding being whacked in the head.
“If a firefighter chops down a door to save someone, is it the same as a thief chopping down a door to steal? Nah of course not, not even though the door ends up broken either way. One would regret their actions, the other wouldn’t and that’s because I think the lord sees the intention, not the action.” The man explains and Kurt wonders just who the man thinks he is.
Discussing theology with a scholar, like a priest or a close friend was one thing, but to be so open in talking about what god intended, now that was not something he was in the mood to hear, especially not when it sounded like an excuse.
“With that logic, one could excuse murder.” He states, letting his annoyance seep through just enough to remain polite, but to show that he’d prefer if the conversation ended.
Besides, Kurt’s whole problem was that he wasn’t sure why.
(Why had he kissed Peter? Why did his mind latch onto the memory like it was a good thing? Why wouldn’t Peter forgive him or at least talk to him? JUST WHY? )
The man continues, completely unfazed by Kurt’s comment.
“If someone got hurt–I’m not saying they did– but if they did, a good rule is to always apologize either way. Sometimes, the only reason someone hasn’t said they’re sorry is because they’re waiting to hear it themselves.” He says and Kurt has just about had enough. But then the man adds an; “My late wife taught me that.” , with a mischievous smile and something about the conflicting expression and the lingering sadness in the man’s voice makes Kurt regret all his negative thoughts about him.
This blind old man was only trying to make him, a stranger, feel better, to pass on some wisdom even. It was only because Kurt had been too lost in his own frustration that he did not recognize the kindness for what is was sooner. He can’t believe he considered leaving without even learning his name.
“Thank you, Mr.?” He asks, suddenly bashful that he forgot to introduce himself.
“Minister Lee.” The man says, slowly pulling himself to his feet once more, using the armrest as support.
Kurt’s mind reels, forgetting his filter for the second time that day.
“You’re a priest?!” He exclaims.
“Yeah-yeah. Now kid, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have a wedding at 9 to prepare for.”