No Fear
The snow had ceased to fall earlier that morning, leaving the forest surrounding the Thorn's winter estate under a heavy blanket of silence. Mark Thorn sat at the base of a tree far away from the house. He looked pale and quite worried. His eyes were sick with fear, and held a look much older than a boy his age should ever have. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, more from fear than from the cold, for he had never been so afraid in all his life.
Mark didn't know who he could turn to for comfort. He couldn't think of anyone. He had always gone to Damien with his troubles, but he couldn't do that now. There was nowhere he could turn, no one he could tell of the terrifying knowledge he had just gained.
He was alone.
XX
Then Mark heard footsteps; a voice calling his name. "Mark? Hey, Mark!" It was a voice he knew all too well.
It was Damien, of course. Always Damien.
Mark couldn't speak to him now. He had to get away, to hide somewhere safe before Damien found him. Because if there was one person Mark couldn't bear to be near right now, it was Damien. He was scared out of his mind, terrified of what he'd blurt out if Damien found him. And beneath his fear, Mark felt a sense of mourning- a terrible sadness at the death of their friendship.
Because he couldn't go on like he had been, knowing what he knew of Damien now. It just wasn't possible.
Mark got to his feet as quickly and quietly as he could. Keeping low to the ground, Mark moved further into the woods, then deeper still. He would find the deepest, darkest, most icy, snow-covered place in this entire forest and hide there. As long as he had to, if it meant getting away from Damien.
But it was a pitiful, doomed effort, and Mark moaned in despair as he heard movement, barely even audible, behind him. It could only be one thing, and the hopelessness of the situation made Mark start to cry.
Damien was following his tracks.
Giving up all hope of stealth and subtletly, Mark started to run.
"Hey, Mark!"
Mark ran on, throwing everything he could into the effort, sprinting now, but he knew he could not run very far. He hadn't slept five minutes last night; he was exhausted and terribly frightened.
But he had to get away. There was just no choice. Mark drove himself on, running until his body began to give way, his lungs burning with fire and his legs turning to lead. They would soon give up even if Mark wouldn't. But Mark stubbornly pushed on, gritting his teeth against the pain, his pace slowing until it was barely a jog. Finally he staggered and collapsed, face going into the snow.
For just a moment Mark actually considered lying there, just giving up and letting Damien find him. But the sound of movement behind him- not far off now- got Mark up again. Straining with the effort, Mark got up and made one final, agonizing sprint to a very large, thick-trunked tree. He ran behind it and collapsed in a heap, eyes closed, sweating in spite of the cold, gasping for breath.
A few minutes passed, and Mark lay silent and still, hoping against hope that luck would be with him. That he wouldn't be found. Then Mark heard Damien's voice again, very close now.
Just on the other side of the tree.
"I know you're there, Mark."
XX
Mark trembled. "Leave me alone," he said, sounding pitifully weak, even to himself.
Damien made a wide circle around the trunk, coming to a stop six feet from Mark. "Why are you running away from me, Mark?" Damien asked. His face was calm, expressionless, his eyes piercing and watchful, but his voice- he actually sounded distressed.
Forcing himself to sit up, Mark curled up, hugging his knees to him. He stared at the snow in front of Damien's feet. He couldn't bear to look at Damien right now. "I know who you are," Mark said quietly.
Oddly enough, Damien smiled. "You do?"
Mark nodded. "Dr. Warren. He knows too. I overheard him talking to Dad."
Damien's face clouded over slightly, but only for a moment. He smiled again. "So what's the big discovery? Dr. Warren realized we're cousins?" Damien gave a laugh at the idea, but even to him it must have sounded forced.
Mark shook his head, still refusing to look directly at Damien. "No. We're not cousins, Damien. We're not even related."
"That's ridiculous-"
"Yeah!" Mark blurted suddenly, interrupting him. "Yeah, it is, Damien." He trembled, unable to keep the fear from his voice. "I thought it was pretty ridiculous, too, at first. But I listened. I listened, and- and-" he faltered and stopped.
Damien's face clouded over again, and he now looked deadly serious. "What did Dr. Warren say?" It was more a command than a question.
It came out as little more than a whisper.
"He said that- the Devil could create his image on Earth."
"What else, Mark?" Damien asked with icy calm.
You're a Thorn, Mark told himself scornfully, hating how weak he felt right now, how frail and terrified. Dad was right. He was a man now and he needed to act like one. He needed to face Damien no matter how badly it scared him. No cowering, Mark promised himself. No fear.
He slowly forced himself to stand, look Damien in the eye.
"He said you're the son of the Devil."
XX
Damien tilted his head up, full of pride and arrogance. There was no point in pretending anymore.
"Mark," Damien said slowly, "Tell me the rest. Tell me what you know."
"I know you're the Beast!" Mark suddenly shouted.
"Come on! You realize how crazy that sounds, don't you?"
"I thought Dr. Warren was crazy," Mark shot back. "Dad sure does, he threw him out last night. But I started to think, Damien!" His voice rose again. "I've seen what you can do! I saw what you did to Teddy in the hall that day! I saw what happened in the classroom! What happened to Atherton and Pasarian! I'm starting to think I'm crazy, Damien, but everybody said your father was crazy when he tried to kill you! He did it because he knew!"
Damien stared back calmly. "He wasn't my father, Mark. You know that."
The brief courage that had come into Mark left him just as suddenly; he couldn't bear looking into those deadly calm eyes any longer. Mark fell to his knees, shaking.
Damien was becoming frightened himself. He didn't want to hurt Mark.
"Mark-" he began.
"Nooooo!" Mark wailed.
Damien grabbed Mark by the shoulders. "Listen to me! Listen! Dr. Warren's right; we're not cousins!"
"No! Get away from me!" Mark shouted, starting to sob and shaking his head furiously back and forth.
"You're like my brother!" Damien shouted over him. "You are my brother! I love you!"
"Kill me!" Mark shouted suddenly, snapping his head up to stare at Damien with reddened eyes, tears running down his face.
"What?" Damien almost screamed, startled and frightened.
Mark hadn't thought he could have ever become more scared than he had been when the sun rose this morning, but he was now. He was experiencing a kind of fear that went beyond any description, too deep and unnerving to even comprehend. Mark knew his life was in danger here; somehow he was sure of it. Damien had the power to kill him, and suddenly Mark was terrified that it was coming. That he'd be killed so he'd be "out of the way", like Attila's brother had been. Attila had to, in order to rule alone. Damien had said it himself, that day in Chaplain Budman's classroom.
What reason was there not to believe Damien had to rule alone, too?
"If you're going to," Mark moaned miserably, "Do it, Damien. Do it now. Please. I-I won't run. I'll let you, I swear. Just-" he choked on his own words, unable to believe he was saying this. "Please."
"I won't," Damien said, voice trembling with emotion. "I can't. You're my brother."
"The Beast has no brother!" Mark blurted out. "You can't love anyone! You- you're not even human!" His voice rose to a shout again. "Kill me now, Damien! Do it and save us both a lot of trouble!" He broke down at that, hiding his face as he sobbed.
Damien stood there for a full minute, letting Mark tremble and cry, before he spoke, calm once more.
"How can you even say that, Mark? Why would I kill you? How could I? You're my brother. I won't kill you, Mark. You mean too much to me."
"How can I trust you?" Mark said hoarsely. "How can we even be friends after- after this?"
"Why not?"
This was all far too much. Mark was beyond his limits, being asked to deal with things no thirteen-year-old boy should ever have to handle. He wanted to run again, but he had no strength. He couldn't hide anymore. Mark looked up and saw Damien standing there, smiling warmly down at him, eyes bright with energy.
And at that instant, Mark didn't see the Beast. Looking into Damien's face, Mark saw his cousin. His brother. His best friend in all the world. The one person he had taken to the moment they met, the one person he had always trusted completely, without a second's hesitation. He hadn't ever given it any thought, had never questioned it. Trusting Damien had felt like the most natural act Mark had ever done. His terrible fear slowly beginning to fade, Mark stopped trembling. His lower lip trembled, and Damien nodded.
"Come with me, Mark," Damien said quietly, smiling still. "I can take you with me."
He held out his hand, and after a long moment Mark took it. Damien helped him to his feet, affectionately brushing snow off him. "Thank you, Mark," Damien said softly. "I would have begged you, you know."
"You don't have to," Mark replied calmly; he felt calmer than he would've ever thought possible at such a moment. His words were rewarded with Damien's widest grin. Mark sensed it then; he could feel it. They really were brothers; blood had no bearing on it at all. They were brothers, and it meant something wonderful for both of them. They weren't alone in the world.
"I'm afraid, Damien," Mark said suddenly, his voice quiet. "I'm afraid of you. Of… what happens next, and I don't know what happens next. I'm just afraid." He shook his head. He was feeling better now, but too much had happened too suddenly. He needed time to take all this in.
"I'm not," Damien said softly. "Now that I know you'll be there."
Mark found it in himself to smile. He didn't have all the answers- not even close- but he had some. He felt frightened of the future, still, and of Damien… but he knew Damien was right. Things could never be hopeless. Not as long as they had each other.
"Mark? Damien? What are you two doing out here?"
Richard and Ann Thorn were standing there hand-in-hand, obviously in the middle of their morning walk. Richard eyed them suspiciously, and right then Mark saw his father obviously hadn't put everything Dr. Warren had said out of his mind. Damien put an arm around Mark's shoulder and smiled at his brother, his eyes filled with trust.
"Oh, you know," Mark said casually, "We were just hanging out."
A/N: This story draws on text and plot details from two other works. Joseph Howard's 1978 novelization of "Damien: Omen II", and an excellent fanfiction based on the second Omen book/film called "The Last Great Delusion" by user "magsofthemuses". The account by that name has since disappeared, and I have been unable to relocate the story- I only was able to borrow some text and ideas from it because I copied and saved "The Last Great Delusion" to a Word document file on my computer. In no way is my story attempting plagiarism; I wanted to explore this what-if idea myself and sought inspiration from an author who had already done so. I give full credit to magsofthemuses for those sections of text I borrow from his/her work, and the same to Joseph Howard in regards to his novel. But I still affirm this is an original work, and one I enjoyed writing.