By aina adele

Prologue: The Gift

Summary: Kyle was always psychic, and he always wanted nothing more than to meet his soulmate, but the day he meets Simon is also the day that he regrets that wish more than anything. Slash M/M

Warnings: future slash, Possible(?) lemons in the way future, mention death (nothing graphic or violent), mention of drug addictions, mention of an affair, attempted suicide in the way future

Note-the rating may change-I have never written a sex scene before and am unsure if I want/am able/am willing to yet-if you ever feel it should go up let me know

When Kyle Seamus Gallagher was seven he learned that he was psychic. He had always had a few scattered visions, and what his mom quietly called hallucinations, but it wasn't until his unborn sister's baby shower and all his extended family flew over from Ireland that he had his first inclination that there was something different about him. The party was in midsummer, and Kyle's mom had felt safe in throwing a completely outdoor party to accommodate all the guests without fear of rain. Kyle was sitting in the shade, having been abandoned by his Irish cousins for 'talking funny,' when his great-aunt Brianna came and sat on the ground next to him, watching as he drew in the dirt. He ignored her because he had been told many times she was 'quite crazy' and drew a picture of stick figures kicking around a soccer ball that looked like a beetle.

Then she said "Kyle, do you see that there, that red string?"

He squinted in the direction she was pointing and nodded-there was a very thin, barely visible red string trailing on the ground. "Yes Auntie," he said. "I see it."

"Good child," she said, "good." Then she lapsed into silence.

Several minutes passed, Kyle made a knight rescue a princess that looked like a pirate from a dragon that looked like a panda, and his great-aunt sat and watched. Then she asked "Do you also hear the voices?"

Kyle scrunched his nose and nodded again, knowing exactly what she meant by 'the voices.' He could hear them sometimes, voices that sounded like his friends and family but were not them, because he was clearly the only one that heard him. At best these were annoying, and at worst they were disturbing. Once in a while they even got him in trouble for knowing something he shouldn't have.

"Good child," she said again. "Good."

It wasn't until later, when it suddenly started raining and everyone was hurriedly packing up to leave that she leaned down, looked Kyle straight in the eyes and said "When you see someone's light come talk to me." He blinked at her, confused, as she walked back to her hotel barefoot in the thunderstorm.

Around three months later, on the day Cassidy Marie Gallagher was born, Kyle's infant sister turned and looked him straight in the eyes. And he saw her light. It was fast, fleeting, but there was no denying it.

A week later when his great-aunt came to meet her "adorable-great-baby-niecy" she pulled Kyle aside and said "Well?"

Kyle's lower lip trembled and he struggled not to cry. "Auntie," he said. "I saw it, I saw Cassie's light. Auntie... I know when she is going to die."

She sighed and opened her arms for her nephew to run into, and hugged him while he cried. "Child," she said, "there are upsides and downsides to everything in this life. You are like me, you have the Gift. You have just learned it's biggest downside."

For the next five years Kyle's great-aunt taught him everything she knew about their Gift, it's upsides and many downsides. He spent his summers, or as much of them as he could, in Ireland, and she traveled to the States for important holidays and anniversaries. As the years went by she taught him was that their power was uncontrollable, psychics couldn't change what they saw or when, and that what they did see was next to nothing-fleeting, and only a portion of the relationships and emotions around them. She also taught him that there were three increasingly uncommon visions, or aspects of the Gift.

The most common aspect were the red threads. Everyone has a red thread, invisible to most, that binds them to another person-their soulmate-unless the other person died, in which case the thread vanishes. Kyle had seen these threads occasionally throughout the years, but never knew their meaning until his aunt told him. Knowing what they stood for made him kind of sad, because it was very rare that two married people were tied to each other. When he asked his aunt about this she said "Only a few people in this world are lucky enough to find their soulmate Kyle. Those that do not are not necessarily unhappy child, they are simply not as happy as they could have been."

"Auntie?" Kyle asked. "Did you ever find your soulmate?"

"No child," she answered. "And I never married in hopes that I would meet him someday. But two years ago my thread disappeared, and I know now that I am not one of the lucky ones." Kyle nodded, for there was nothing else he could say to that.

The other, rarer, aspect of the Gift, was the voices. Every once in a while, especially when everything was quiet or when he was just getting to sleep, Kyle would hear the eerie, resonant voices of people he knew or those around him. His great-aunt told him that these were glimpses of other peoples thoughts and feelings, but Kyle had already pretty much figured that out. It was weird though, and Kyle found out a lot of secrets he wished he hadn't this way, like about his dad's affair with their next-door neighbor or his mom's 'prescription' medicine. He had known their divorce was coming long before they did.

The last part of the Gift was perhaps the most disturbing-the fleeting vision of someone's "'ight.' Kyle's aunt told him she had only seen this seven times in her life. Twice when she was young, four times in her adulthood, and once in her old age. Kyle had already seen one, his sister's. "A person's light Kyle," his aunt told him, "is the essence of their being. In it, you can see the purpose or purposelessness of their existence, the essence of their soul, the great sadnesses and joys they have experienced and will experience, and the exact time, place and means of their death."

Kyle nodded. "Auntie," he whispered fearfully. "I saw Cassie's light. I know when she is going to die. She…"

"Shush child!" she scolded him. "Do not tell anyone what you see in another's light! We cannot change it and it would be foolish to try! Knowing only brings more harm than good!"

"But…" Kyle started.

"No child! You must promise me never to speak of what you see in these visions. Trying to change fate only will result in harm, promise me!"

"I promise." Kyle gnawed his lip. "Auntie," he asked, did you ever tell someone what you saw in their light?"

A dark cloud passed over her face. "Yes," She whispered, "my father." Kyle wanted to ask more, but he could tell how heart broken she was and let it rest.

And three years later when Kyle was ten and he and his great-aunt were sitting together, eating breakfast, his family having flown over to the States for Christmas, he looked at her and saw her light. She looked back at him as if daring him to do something and Kyle felt that somehow, she knew what he knew. But he said nothing and just poured himself some orange juice.

Two years later Brianna Elaine Gallagher died. She had been hit by lightning walking home in a thunderstorm and Kyle was the only one who was not the least bit surprised. Yet for the first time in his life, as he stood at his great-aunt's grave and felt a crushing, all consuming loneliness, Kyle Gallagher truly hated the Gift.

As the next five years went by, the Gallagher's underwent a divorce, Mrs. Gallagher was sent to rehab for her drug issues, Kyle and Cassie lived with their workaholic, absent father, the extended family never visited again from Ireland, and the siblings struggled through their lives without a parent-figure. Eventually Kyle stopped hating his Gift, but every once in a while he'd lay in his bed and look out the window, where his red thread drifted off way into the distance, wondering why he was the burdened with his visions. Several times throughout the years, whenever he felt despairingly lonely, he pondered just stealing his father's car and driving off to follow his thread to his soulmate, wherever they were, and finding happiness with them. Every time he felt like doing so however, his aunt's words came back to him-trying to change fate only will result in harm-and he would sigh and push the dream to the back of his mind. But for the next five years all he ever wished for was to find the person at the end of his thread and not be so alone anymore.

But at the end of those five years however, a seventeen year-old Kyle couldn't remember why he had ever wished that.

Because the day Kyle Seamus Gallagher met Simon George Walters was the second day in his life he absolutely hated his Gift.

A.N. This is my first work on fictionpress and my first work that I plan to make over 10000 words. I have vague ideas where I am going with the plot, but nothing set in stone. I am planning on adding some darker themes (attempts at suicide, homophobia, maybe abuse) but don't want to go out of my depth (dark themes are harder to make realistic-to me) and don't want to make it all depressing and angsty. My goal is for it to just be a work about human loneliness, love, fate, and making your own destiny (sorry for the cheese). I don't know, just tell me your thoughts on how it is (writing style and plot) and where I should go with it. So prettyprettypretty pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE review!


aina adele

P.S. I also took absolutely none of the supernatural aspect from Irish folklore- Nor did I take any cultural aspects-I'm just stealing the names. I may fake some Irish culture/folklore however, so consider this due warning