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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2308 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hope I
- 2-Love (Chastity)
- 3-Anger
- 4-Jealousy
- 5-Sloth
- 6-Greed
- 7-Lust
- 8-Gluttony
- 9-Charity
- 10-Vanity
- 11-Hope II
- 1
- 2
Title: ...and all the sinners, [are] saints!
Author: Mr. Naked
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Till/Christoph
Summary: Hope I
Disclaimer: If this happened for real, I'd like to know too!
Archiving: Only with my express permission.
Inspired by: Apocalyptica - “Hope”, “Beyond Time”, “Kaamos”.

Prologue – Hope (I)

“Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man’s soul and faith”
- The Rolling Stones: “Sympathy For The Devil” -

“It's not like I'm asking you to marry me, for fuck's sake, Till.”

Words left unspoken running back and forth through my mind.

“Actually I think that you're afraid of me hurting you, not that you'd hurt me in some way.”

All this weird silence inside my mind like before a storm, then the sudden outburst, burning and flaming my brain. He's not the only one with a tainted soul full of scars.

“Now you must see me like I'm a precious china, that you're keeping on a display and only looking at it from a distance, afraid to touch it because you might break it,” - another set of words floating through my thoughts.

I feel like just going to him and yelling it into his ear - “I can't be broken that easily! I can't give you any guarantees that it will turn out the way you want it! No one would ever can! If you think from the beginning that it won't work, you'll never get anywhere!”

In the same time I'm tempted to take him gently and comfort him, to spoil him like no one else have done to him, ever. The way I think he needs it to be done.

I could never be mad at him; feel hurt by him, yes, hold a grudge, no. But yet, the easiest way would be to let go, to release my grip on all this and be free of it. Free of any feeling, free of any pain.

It's sunny out there, but it's raining in my soul. A real storm. Conflicting ideas, struggling - a restless search for solutions. Why do I have to cling onto him like that? Shouldn't I move on after all that happened, stick with my decision, and mind about my own life?

I had my fun, I played my games on them, but now it feels like I've played games on myself too. I can't be blamed of not being fair.

“You wanted revenge. In the end the revenge turned itself on you.”

I twist my head, surprised. Him. Till. He is here, near me.

“I followed you,” he explains simply. “I know it's not nice, but it felt like you had more to say to me, and you couldn't, back there, with everyone around us.”

He smiles. His crooked smile, peaceful, thoughtful, gleaming in this afternoon.

“Are you a mind reader?” I ask.

He only bows his head, to hide another smile.

This big and old city we are spending few hours of our lives, during our endless journey...

He is right, I needed to be away from the others, not only our band, so I let my legs carry me through this place foreign to me, while my mind was sunk between my thoughts. And my steps took me here, to this medieval castle, now open for tourists. We are outside, on this platform, on its walls, standing near their broad stony edge, looking to the horizon, across a huge lake. A lake so still that resembles a silver mirror reflecting a glorious sunset, so bright that it's like the whole sky is bleeding and its blood is dripping on the surface of the water under it.

Thousand of angels wounded and dying in the heavens, their blood pouring over the Earth.

“Perfect spot for someone wanting to be with his own thoughts,” Till comments and props his elbows on the stony edge of the wall.

“Did you come to ask for another chance?” I ask him, not turning my face to see him, my view being captured by the sky and the surface of the water that now seems to be covered by golden flames. It's like the whole heaven is burning from its roots, threatening to consume our world as well with its fiery fires.

“That's how it seems to you?” he wonders.

I shake my head slowly. I'm still not looking at him. Few meters away from us I spot an Asian couple taking pictures of each other standing at one of those rusty World War 2 cannons guarding this castle.

Near me, I hear the sounds of the lighter and seconds later the breeze brings the smell of cigarette smoke.

“Does it always have to be about appearance, Till?”

I feel my soul heavy, and as if strained by this tight grip on it. It feels like I can't just open it anymore, like it's frozen and stuck that way, unable to be moved by anything anymore.

Above us, the clouds are getting dark blue, and seeming to push the flaming setting sun toward the horizon and to drown it in the waters. And, along with it, to drown all the light in this world.

“I'm too old...” he starts, exhaling the smoke loudly. “I know that there are no guarantees about anything in this world, Christoph. I'm not asking for them, though that's what I need. And what I want.”

Somewhere, afar, at the line uniting the sky with our earth, dim electric lights start to sparkle timidly.

“I also know that when it's a beginning, an end will follow soon.”

“You're scared of endings?”

“They always hurt.”

I straighten my back; this bitter wave crawls up my mouth when realizing...

“So, you were only protecting yourself, not me.” I say on this disappointed tone and move away from the wall, away from Till.

I walk on these gray old slabs of rock, where other people's steps have walked on, for hundreds of years. And all those people are long gone, their remains are turned into dust, grass and trees, by now.

I move near to one of the cannons and rest my back against it, facing the lake and the sky that now wears stripes of golden and reddish clouds, like rags of a precious cloth. I look at Till - he's still near the edge of the wall, standing there and smoking. And through this invisible line that seems to be tying us to each other, people keep passing by, talking in all the languages of the world, as if we'd be on a Tower of Babylon.

Till straightens his back, throws the cig on the ground and then turns. He pauses for a bit there, looking around, before walking over to me.

“I don't know, Christoph,” his soothing deep voice unites with the soft breeze coming from the lake, once he's in front of me. “Maybe I was doing both.”

He stops near me and rests his body against the old cannon, by my side.

“What's going to become of us?” I hear myself whispering.

Above the lake the golden fire flaming the firmament fades bit by bit, leaving behind only dark red traces. Another day dying slowly under our eyes.

I sense him moving, then his warm fingers lay gently over the back of my neck. I guess it's meant to be comforting, but for me his touch hurts. Yet, I clench my teeth and don't remove his hand. Always having him at an arms-length, yet not to be able to touch him. The mere sight of him making my heart flinch, because as much as I was enjoying it, it always brought some pain too.

But I can't stand it for too long; there's this something stronger than my will that forces me to turn slowly my head and look at him. At his eyes, still a piece of a blue sunny sky glowing in the dusk surrounding us now. There's something so gentle and sad in the same time floating in his glance.

I lower my head, like ashamed of the sudden dirty thought that crossed my mind like a spear.

“What?” He whispers, while he moves his fingers slowly over the back of my neck, in a caress.

I raise my head and tilt it like I'd want to embrace more of him into my gaze.

“If there weren't so many people around us, I'd kiss you.” I confess whispering.

He laughs quietly as he throws a fleeting look over the tourists walking through this place.

“Then I'll consider myself kissed,” he answers, while staring at the darkened horizon.

Electric lights on the other side of the shore twinkle joyfully like little stars fallen on the earth, reflected in the blackened mirror of the water.

I'm bowing my head again, under his heavy palm laid over my neck, as I'm laughing too, at his reply. His words seemed to have cast a warm ray over my soul, making it relax bit by bit out of its strains.

“I can't live only on the hope that things will go right, Christoph,” he says. “Not anymore.”

In the dusky light I still can watch the tip of my foot drawing an invisible pattern on the ground.

Suddenly I feel defenseless, a little boy, compared to him. He’s playing with me, isn’t he? He’s not much older than I; yet, he seems more mature than me. I feel so small, like I have to rise on my toes in order to place a kiss on his face, even though I’m a bit taller than he is.

“But isn't it what life is about, Till? We're always hoping that things will eventually get better for us. Isn't that why we don't all slit our wrists the moment we realize in what deep shit we are?”

In this second I feel a warm soft squeeze on my neck.

No, not him. Not anymore. He gave up living like that long ago. I should have figured that. When things start lose their meaning, and their importance, when you cease to hold on them, you also cease to see the point in them, and the reason for living, as well.

“Why don't live just for the moment?” I suggest, stubborn into my beliefs.

“You mean more to me than just a simple fuck, Christoph,” and his warm touch travels downwards, under the collar of my shirt.

“And you mean more than just a conquest to me, Till.”

He takes his hand off me, abruptly. I hear him lighting another cig. Its smoke floats under my eyes like a gray curled smog fading into the darkness of the night fallen over this place.

“Soon we'll have to get back...” he whispers, and I pick a bit of disappointment in his tone.

Yes, it's good to have few moments without any hassle. But, probably the others are worried about where we have disappeared for so long. Oh, how I wish I could disappear with him for a while!

But no, we have to stay here. We always do. We're not by ourselves, others depend on us. Always.

“Are they still giving you a hard time?” He asks on a different tone.

I shake my head.

“Richard is with Olli, and they left me alone so far. Don't know about Paul or Flake, but they didn't do anything to me anymore, either.”

“You ran after all of them and ended up with nothing.”

I throw him a quick glance, then I incline my head again.

“I can't say I regret what I did,” I'm rather thinking out loud than speaking. “I mean...”

“You're not looking for forgiveness for your sins?” I hear him smirking.

“I had fun.”

“But it's over now.”

I look back at him; the skin on his face glows dimly under the reddish electric spots lighting from the castle walls.

“Did I really end up with nothing?”

“What do you mean?”

I refuse to answer. He has to figure it out by himself if he doesn't already know it. He's bright enough for that.

“Ok, let's go,” he says suddenly and makes a step away from the rusty cannon.

I follow him as we start walking. He throws the cigarette; a shining dot, like a falling star, crosses the darkness to meet the ground as I’m passing by, avoiding to step on it. I just leave it there, to burn until the very end.

To be continued...
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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!