Crisis Of Faith

Crisis of Faith

Author/pseudonym: Rayden Star

Email address: [email protected]

Rating: PG

Pairings: T/C

Status: NEW; complete

Date: 2-8-99

Archive: YES; first time

Archive author: Rayden

Series/Sequel: yes (overall series doesn't have a name yet)

Other website: yes, but not updated in a while: http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Location/4966

Disclaimers: Trent and Carlos belong to Norris Brothers Productions; I'm just having some fun with them and giving them some much needed loving. No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Well, here's my foray into series-dom. Each part will be a story in and of itself and the series will show the developing relationship between Carlos and Trent. No sex in this part, barely any kissing, but hang in there folks, the good stuff will come. (pun intended!) Thanks to Bast and Diane for their beta.

Summary: Carlos has problems dealing with his growing feelings for Trent.

Warnings: none

****Saturday, Valentine's Eve****

Carlos Sandoval stood outside of the Thunder Karate Academy, trying to stir up enough courage to go in. It was becoming harder and harder to visit his friend and the owner of the dojo, Trent Malloy. Oh, it wasn't anything Trent had done or said, it was because it *was* Trent that would be in there, that it would be Trent that would greet him, talk to him, be close to him. Carlos shook his head. Nothing was making sense any more and he looked up to the heavens for answers. Instead of answers, he got more wet, if that was possible, as the cold February rain cascaded down his face.

Carlos had been steadfast in his faith for as long as he could remember. Even when Hector died, after he got finished yelling and screaming at God for taking his brother away, he found some comfort and peace knowing Hector was in heaven and away from all the violence and pain of this earth. His faith was his rock and his faith would not look kindly upon these feelings he was harboring for another man. Prayer, confession, attending mass twice a week; he was trying anything and everything to fight this all-consuming craving he was experiencing for Trent. But nothing was working, so he was trying the next-best thing: staying away from the forbidden fruit. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. Every time he tried to beg off going someplace with Trent, or stop going over to visit, Trent just kept asking if everything was all right, if he was feeling okay, was there something he could do. He often mused that Trent would make a great lawyer because he always got the truth out of people. And it was becoming harder and harder to hide the truth from the one person he *knew* would understand.

Trent was like that; all-loving and trusting, which got him into trouble sometimes. Thunder had raised a son that took people at their word, and believed in people, believed in giving them a second chance. The great preacher also taught about love, whether it be love for humanity, familial love, or romantic love, it was LOVE and it didn't matter who gave or who received as long as it was true, as long as everyone was honest and sincere. Carlos was certain if he told Trent how he felt, the feelings would probably be returned, that is, if he was reading the signals right.

But what did that make him? He was a Latino Lover of all things, not a pansy or a fag. He'd been taught his entire life that loving someone of the same sex was *wrong*; soul in Hell for eternity *wrong.* But how could something that made him feel so good, something that felt *right* for once in his life be *wrong*? He didn't have the answers; no one did. He sighed deeply and turned his collar up to ward off some of the chilling rain, and then strolled casually as possible away from his destiny.

Later that night

A loud ringing phone woke Carlos up. Sitting up as carefully as one who had drank entirely too many beers could, he reached for the offending object to silence the noise.

"Wha--? 'ello?"

"Carlos? That you? You okay?"

Carlos took a deep breath as the voice on the other end made his heart race. Getting hold of himself and trying to shake off the cobwebs that the alcohol had formed, he gained precious control.

"I'm fine. Jus' woke up."

"Oh. Hey, I thought you were going to drop by the dojo today for a workout? Something come up?" Trent was worried about his friend. It seemed that lately Carlos didn't want anything to do with him. It wasn't like him to agree to do something then not show *and* not call.

"No, jus' was feelin' tired." Damn, the words wouldn't stop slurring and he couldn't get his mind to concentrate.

"Are you drunk?" Now *this* was definitely not like Carlos. Being a cop, he couldn't afford to get wasted, and besides, it just wasn't his style.

"So I had a few beers, so ... I was 'ntitled."

"What happened today? Carlos, you don't drink like that."

"Nuthin' happened, it's jus' ... jus' Valentine's Day."

Okay, this wasn't making any sense. Trent realized his friend needed him. "I'm coming over Carlos, there's something you're not telling me."

"NO!" Carlos' voice reverberated in his mind as he held his head. "I mean, I don' need a baby-sitter. I'm a big boy now, I can drink."

"Yeah, you're a boy all right, thinking that getting drunk will solve anything. I'll be over in fifteen minutes." Trent hung up the phone and headed out into the dark rainy night.

Carlos looked at the phone as if it were a foreign object. He then wondered if he could drink himself into oblivion in fifteen minutes so he'd be passed out when the object of his forbidden desire showed up.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Carlos? Come on buddy, let me in!" Trent pounded on the door one more time. He was really worried now. Even when things were at their worst, Carlos had never taken to the bottle; he was a social drinker, nothing more. He pounded again. "Carlos! You don't let me in I'll be forced to kick this door down!" He expected a sheepish Carlos to come to the door --- but now he began to panic as not a sound was heard coming from within the loft. He had only been joking about breaking down the door, but now he was deadly serious. With one well-placed side kick to the lock, the door popped open. Trent was in no way prepared for what he saw.

Beer bottles lay strewn about the usually tidy living area; a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the floor, inches from a lifeless hand. Carlos was sprawled out on the couch, the only signs of life coming from his shallow breathing. Trent looked down at that troubled face, lines of worry and stress still evident even in the drunken stupor. His heart actually hurt watching his friend suffer; his friend who he'd die for, if it came down to it.

Trent had never tried to analyze his feelings; didn't seem to be a point to it. Carlos' track record spoke volumes about where his sexual preferences lie. And Trent was no fool; he knew what a declaration of love would do to his very Catholic friend. Trent didn't like the situation; if there was one thing Thunder taught that he'd always remember it was to be true to yourself. But he couldn't be true to his feelings *and* keep his friend, so he did the next best thing; he loved his friend secretly and kept him in his life.

Trent smoothed away some stray hairs from Carlos' face, wondering who could have caused him so much pain. He gave a sad smile, wishing life was different, wishing they lived in a more sane time where it wouldn't matter about the package, as long as you loved each other. He pulled the blanket from off the couch and covered the sleeping form, then started to clear away the empties and straighten the loft. Carlos was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning and Trent knew he'd be in no condition to clean it himself. As he picked up the mess, he did allow himself the guilty pleasure of watching his friend sleep. He had never found another man attractive until now; and it really didn't matter at this point.

After taking the garbage out, repairing the door to the best of his ability, and checking on Carlos one more time, he sat down in the chair opposite the couch, prepared to sit vigil over his troubled friend. He knew what binges did to the body, and once Carlos woke up, he'd probably need a bit of help. It wasn't more than two hours later when the almost-still form stirred and groggily sat up.

"Oh man ..." was all he could get out before his stomach revolted against him. Trent was there in a flash with the waste can, rubbing Carlos' back as he tossed his cookies until there was nothing left by dry heaves. Knowing in advance this moment would come, Trent picked up the glass of water he had prepared and handed it to his friend.

"Drink this, all of it."

Carlos nodded, not quite certain of his surroundings yet. The only thing he knew was that his head hurt, his stomach was not happy with him and there was this awful taste of bile in his mouth. He took the proffered water and drank it down, then tried to slowly lie back down and hoped the world stopped spinning.

"Hold it. How about we get you into the bed. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable there." Trent helped Carlos to his very unsteady feet and they stumbled together to the bedroom where Trent helped him undress and get under the covers. Carlos immediately passed out again, and Trent sat on the side of the bed, gently rubbing Carlos' arm. It was as intimate as he'd ever get with the one person who owned him heart and soul.

After he was certain Carlos was sleeping, albeit fitfully, Trent started to go back to the living room to take care of the waste can, but an open letter on the desk caught his eye. In Carlos' handwriting was a letter, addressed to him. He felt a little funny reading something that was not given to him, but it *was* addressed to him, so he read:

Dear Trent,

I'm a little ashamed to be writing this when I should be telling this to your face, but I can't do that. There's a reason I've been avoiding you and it has absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I've got feelings for you that I can't act upon; my faith won't let me. I've gone around in circles in my mind wondering how love can be wrong, but that's what I've been taught my entire life --- that love between people of the same sex is wrong. No matter who I've asked, or how much I've prayed, what I've found is that what I feel is wrong.

I don't know why I'm writing this ... I'll never give it to you, but it helps get some of the hurt out. I'm sitting here thinking about Valentine's Day coming up, about how it's the day of love, and allowing myself to get shit-faced because I don't want to *feel* anymore. I don't want to feel anything ever again. Maybe then I can handle it.

I'm sorry I haven't been around much. You know the saying, "out of sight is out of mind," although I've thought about you more every day that I haven't seen you. Why does this have to be so difficult? Why did I go and fall in love with you? Although, I do have to admit, I didn't fight it too hard. You are a good person, you are so loving and trusting and always do the right thing. You're a fucking Benton Frasier, man, upstanding Mountie who puts other people first. I'm just a selfish bastard who's too much a coward to ...

The letter ended there; Carlos presumably either got too drunk to finish or something interrupted him ... like getting another beer out of the fridge. Trent laid the letter back on the desk and pondered what he had discovered about his friend. He knew at this point in the game, he needed help, spiritual advice and he knew of only one person he could turn to.

**** Sunday, Valentine's Day ****

The previous night's clouds gave way to a brilliant morning sun, and Carlos groaned at the sight. His head was throbbing and his mouth was a dry wasteland. He heard shuffling in the other room and the cop part of his brain tried to process a warning to his body; unfortunately, his body wasn't listening. Just when he thought it'd be a blessing in disguise for an intruder to shoot him in his bed and put him out of his misery, Trent poked his head in the bedroom.

"Ah, you're up. Good. Get in the shower and get dressed." He left without another word.

//What the hell?// Carlos wasn't certain he could stand, let alone take a shower and dress himself. Then he looked down at his nearly naked body and tried to remember how he got from the living room to the bedroom *and* undressed. He ran his fingers through his mussed hair as snippets of memory came to him. Trent was there holding a trash can while he barfed, Trent was there helping him walk to the bedroom, Trent was there helping him ... oh God, helping him undress. After that he remembered nothing, and was very worried he'd said or done something totally inappropriate for a proper Catholic boy. Before he could rouse himself up into a full panic, Trent stuck his head back into the room.

"Come on, man, we're going to be late."

"Late? Late for what ... oh God ..." It actually hurt to speak; each word stung as he said them.

"I really think you ought to watch your language, especially this morning. We're going to church."

"You have got ..." Carlos lowered his voice in the vain attempt to keep a handle on the pain. "You have got to be kidding. I can't go to church in this condition."

"You should have thought of that last night before you tried to kill your liver. Come on, you need to go. Something is obviously on your mind and maybe God can help. I've got some strong coffee and some aspirin waiting for you when you get out." Trent started to close the door once more.

"Wait ... I mean, I need to ask you something ..."

"What?"

"Did I like, um, say anything last night?"

"Not unless you call groaning saying something."

"Oh, okay, just wondering what I might have babbled on about."

"Don't worry, the intimate details of your last date are still safely secured within that hard head of yours. I'll see you in a few." Trent exited the room a second time, softly closing the door behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Carlos grimaced behind the dark sunglasses that were doing nothing to cut the glare of the too-bright sun. He had showered, dressed and ate what little he could in record time, then allowed Trent to drive him to church. He wanted to be anywhere but there, sitting in a pew, prepared to being told yet again that what he was feeling was wrong. Brother Roscoe got up after the choir sang and cleared his throat.

"Good morning and happy Valentine's Day everyone! With this being the holiday for love, I thought what an appropriate topic for today's sermon. Love. In all its forms, in all its glory, it's what makes life worth living."

Carlos stifled a groan. He'd forgotten about the holiday and with it coinciding with Sunday, of course, love was going to be the sermon. He wanted to block everything out, he wanted to get up and leave, but he couldn't ... he couldn't leave Trent. Although they could never touch, never really *smile* at each other, never really hug, at least they could share this, sitting together, being together, and if it tore his heart in two, so be it. He needed to be as close as his faith would allow.

Brother Roscoe continued. "Some of you may know that Valentine's Day was named after Saint Valentine, but I'll bet most of you don't know that his work wasn't of the romantic sort. He chose chaste love, love of humanity, as his calling, helping slaves escape to a better life, ministering to prisoners and spreading the word of righteousness. It has only been in modern times that Valentine's Day has come to be a day of romance, a day for couples to come together and declare their love."

Carlos knew he was in for it now. He prepared himself to listen to another sermon of how love was romantic only if it was with the opposite sex, otherwise, you just have a "love of humanity" and that was strictly hands off.

"Now what I'm going to say next may surprise some of you, may outrage you because it goes against what you've been taught, but I can no longer ignore the issue. I cannot believe in a God that puts stipulations on love, any love. In this day and age, it is a modern miracle that two people can even find each other to love, and by the dear Lord, when that happens there should be much rejoicing."

A few parishioners chimed in with "amens" and "amen brother".

"I do believe that God loves each and every one of us, loves us in spite of our sins, in spite of our transgressions upon others. But I do believe He smiles upon us even more when we find love with one another. Be it friendship, familial, or romantic, love should always be cherished and never looked down upon.

"When I say love, I mean *all* love, no rules, no regulations, no boundaries. Why it was just in during the past forty years that love and marriage between a black person and a white person was legalized ... In the span of a lifetime, man has come to realize that love knows no color. I am hoping in my lifetime that man will come to realize that love knows no gender, either."

A few collective gasps were heard among the pews as a few whispered to themselves about what the good brother meant. Carlos sat up straighter and wondered if he had heard correctly.

"Now I know I am radical in my thinking; how can I go against what the Bible tells me. Well my fellow Christians, as I studied this topic, as I looked deep into my heart and prayed with all my might, I have come to the conclusion that the Bible, through its interpretations from the original Hebrew, through to Greek and finally into English, was, somehow, along the way, misinterpreted. We have long held certain passages dear to our heart that condemn same-sex relationships and have ignored those that seem to condone it. Why it was in I Samuel, Chapter 18, Verse 1 that it was written 'the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.' And in II Samuel, Chapter 1, Verse 26, that after both Saul and Jonathan were killed in battle, David lamented and recalled that Jonathan's love had been 'wonderful, passing the love of women.'

"I now want to ask you this ... for each and every one of you to look deep into your own heart and ask yourself if the God you know would put a restriction on love. Would He frown upon two people who had found each other, through all obstacles, through all their different paths and journeys, would He condemn them if they happen to be of the same gender? We all know that when we ascend to heaven we leave our earthly bodies behind, those earthly parts that make us male and female. So if our souls have no gender, why should we limit our love to the earthly opposite sex?"

A few "amens" were heard throughout the sanctuary. Carlos was riveted. He had never thought of it that way but now it made sense.

"I would like each and every one of you to look to your hearts for the answers. The Bible is our guidebook through this life, a guidebook full of love, full of hope, but I do not believe it holds the answers to such complex questions. I believe that God Himself has given us the power to determine right and wrong, and I, my brothers and sisters, I believe that anytime you find love, with anybody, it is a good thing. Let us pray."

Carlos bowed his head, for the first time extremely grateful for the man that sat next to him. This man that saw him through his worst drunken bout since college, this man who forced him to come to church with the world's biggest hangover, this man that he loved with all his heart and now ... *now* he could believe in it, he could act upon it, he could *love* another man and reconcile that with his faith. God hadn't abandoned him, God had shown him the way, shown him that this love was good and right. "Dear Lord, we thank You again for this beautiful day, for the sun shining, for this building to worship You in. We thank You for giving us the emotion of love, for giving us the ability to express this love in so many different ways and Lord, we thank You for allowing us to find each other in these troubled times. Please watch over all those who are in love, and all those that are seeking love in Your Name. We pray with open hearts Lord, open to love of all kinds. And we pray in Your Name, Amen."

A sprinkle of "amens" were heard throughout the church, including one amen that came from the quiet voice of the man sitting next to Trent Malloy. As the organist began to play and the parishioners walked out, Trent put his hand on top of Carlos' and allowed their fingers to intertwine slightly. He looked over at his friend and saw the peace that was missing from him just a scant hour ago. They looked at each other and smiled; the world was right again.

Carlos found his voice first. "You knew?"

"I didn't know what was eating you up inside until last night ... I, uh, I found the letter you wrote me."

"The what?"

"The letter, on the desk. You wrote how much you loved me but your faith wouldn't allow it."

Carlos shook his head slightly; any more movement and the throbbing would come back. "I don't remember writing any letter. I must've been out of it more than I thought."

"Well, I'm just glad you did. After I talked with Roscoe last night, I was hoping something like this would happen."

"You talked to him?? About us, ... this??" Carlos didn't know whether to be mortified or relieved.

"I had to. I didn't have the answers and I couldn't sit around and watch you drown your feelings with alcohol."

"And you don't have any problem with this ... us."

"Not really, and especially not after talking with Roscoe. Thunder always taught that any and all love was good, but since you obviously weren't feeling the same way I was, I didn't dwell on it too much. Until last night, then I knew the truth and I knew I had to do something."

"I guess I'm glad I wrote that letter ... I need to say it though."

"Say what?"

"I love you, quierdo."

//Quierdo?// It took Trent a minute to process the Spanish into English. Once processed, he sucked in his breath, almost as if the word itself had taken his breath away.

"You all right?" Carlos was beginning to panic again. It was too much, too soon.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just never expected you to use that word, ... with me that is."

"I've never used it before, never told it to anyone. You're the first ... and the last, ever." Trent clasped the hand beneath his tighter. "I love you too, beloved."

It was the beginning of a new phase in their lives; a phase they would experience together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The ride back to Carlos' home was quiet, but not uncomfortably so like the ride *to* church was. Carlos was still suffering the effects of a drunken binge and was trying not to allow what little breakfast he ate to make a reappearance. After what seemed like an eternity, Trent pulled up to the loft and helped Carlos get out. Once at the door, Carlos commented on the obviously patched wood.

"You do that?"

"Yeah, sorry. I was worried about you and when you didn't answer ... well, let's just say a lot of bad images flashed across my mind." Trent helped his friend into the living room.

"Guess I should be going. You going to be okay here by yourself?"

"If you mean am I going to start drinking again, the answer is no. I don't need to anymore; I've finally come to terms with what I was hiding from." Carlos patted the couch cushion beside him. "Sit down for a minute, 'kay?"

Trent sat down and tried to relax, but this was new to both of them. He watched as Carlos fumbled for something in the drawer in the end table. He finally found what he was looking for and handed Trent a small stuffed bear that was dressed in a white gi and black belt.

"Here. I was out walking around in the mall the other day, getting really down about Valentine's Day and I saw this in a window. It's a 'Karate Kritter' and when you press its stomach..." Carlos gently squeezed the bear and it said "Hi-ya!" Trent smiled at the extremely unique gift.

"Anyway, I saw it and thought of you. I figured I'd give it to you sometime as a gag gift, even though I would've secretly meant it to be more ... well, I think you know what I mean."

Trent looked into the deep brown, but bloodshot eyes and saw the sincerity that accompanied the words. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Thanks. He'll sit on my desk at the academy to remind me of you and how much you mean to me." He squeezed the bear's stomach again and was barraged by a string of ki-yi's from the bear. "He's cute. Thanks." Trent placed his hand over Carlos' and squeezed slightly. "I'd um, better get home. You're looking tired and probably need to sleep off more of that hangover." He paused, wondering if he dare go where his heart wanted. "Would you, um, well, like me to stay until you doze off? Just in case you need something."

Carlos shook his head. "No, I don't want you to stay in case I need something. I'd like you to stay because you want to be with me." He ducked his head with the last few words.

"I'd like that."

Carlos slowly stood up and offered his hand to Trent, who took it as he laid the stuffed bear on the coffee table. They walked hand-in-hand to Carlos' bedroom where Carlos stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers before sliding into bed. He looked over at Trent with a puzzled expression.

"Um, maybe I assumed too much, but I thought you were going to take a nap with me." Carlos tried to hide the disappointment he felt. He knew they weren't ready for anything more than hand-holding at this point and time, but it would be *so* nice to have him here, to know his best friend and new lover would be at his side.

"Uh, sorry, I ... I don't want to rush anything."

"Trent, we've slept in the same tent on camping trips for years. This time we just have more of an emotional attachment. Besides, my head is killing me and all *I* want to do is sleep."

"Okay." Trent started to undress, but before he climbed into bed with Carlos, he wanted to set a few ground rules.

"We'll take this at your pace; just let me know when you'd like to do something and we'll do it. I ..."

Carlos put his finger to Trent's lips. "We'll do this at *our* pace, when we're both ready. Neither one of us has had any experience at this. Now I would like to try something ..."

Trent swallowed hard. "Wh-what?"

"Sleeping. But maybe you'd like to put your arm around me?"

Trent smiled and visibly relaxed. "That I can do." He snuggled in behind Carlos and held on to him, promising himself he'd do everything in his power to make the man beside him happy and safe. Carlos meant more to him than his own life, and he'd spend the rest of his days showing Carlos just that. He watched as the other man's breathing became slow and deep, and he leaned over to kiss him lightly on the temple.

"Sleep well, my quierdo, sleep well."

Return to the Story Index