The Last Great Delusion


A/N: I did not write this story. It is important to note that right away. A user called magsofthemuses did, and while I don't know the original upload date of the story, I had saved a Word document version of it in September of 2012. The story and the author disappeared from FanFiction sometime after 2012. I wrote a story called "No Fear" in 2015 to replace "The Last Great Delusion", and now, in 2017, having found the Word document I saved on a portable hard drive I have, I can upload the original so everyone can read it all they like, as well as compare it to "No Fear" and see for themselves how I did at writing a replacement story in my own words, without access to the original.

If you read this story and have any thoughts on it at all, please leave a review. All feedback is welcomed.


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 under a tree, hugging his legs to his chest. His eyes red from a night of reading with a flashlight under the covers. He had never been so afraid in all his life.

He needed to be alone and he needed time. Time to sit and to think so that he could figure out what to do. It was hard being alone with his thoughts, letting them churn, he had always had Damien to talk to before. He couldn't do that now.

He was alone.

As if on cue the soft crunch, crunch of footsteps and a too-familiar voice announced the presence of another: "Mark! Are you out here?"

Damien.

Mark got to his feet and started to walk as quickly and quietly as he could deeper into the woods. Listening intently he heard Damien's footsteps pause... Then start up again, closer this time. He was being followed.

"Mark!"

His chest started to burn, like he had been running for a very long time. His legs felt heavy and sweat slid down his brow. Gasping he stopped and leaned against a very large, thickly trunked tree. He panted.

The footsteps stopped.

"I know you're there," Damien's voice was calm.

"Leave me alone," it came out a whimper and Mark almost felt ashamed of himself.

Damien came around the tree and stopped a few feet away from Mark. Watching him. Mark's chest tightened even further.

"Why are you doing this?" Damien asked, his face betrayed no emotion but his voice held a distinctly wounded note. Was he actually hurt by Mark's attempt to run away from him? Could he even feel hurt?

Could he feel anything? Or was it all a lie?

"I know who you are," Mark murmured, "I heard them, Dad and Dr. Warner, talking last night."

"So what? That I'm your cousin?" Even to his own ears Damien's voice must have sounded forced.

"No, you're not my cousin, we're not even related."

"That's ridiculous-"

"No!"

The tightness in his chest vanished and Mark pushed himself away from the tree. Dad was right, he was a man now and he needed to act like one. No cowering. Damien tilted his head up full of pride and arrogance. There was no point in pretending anymore.

"Then say it, Mark. Tell me what you know."

Mark swallowed around the lump in his throat but he couldn't stop the tear from tracing down his cheek.

"They said..." He cleared his throat, "Dr. Warner said that the Devil could create his own image on Earth."

"And?"

Mark and Damien's eyes met and somehow he found the strength to finish.

"You're the son of the Devil."

"You must be aware of how incredible that sounds."

"Yes, I thought Dr. Warner was crazy. Dad sure does, he threw him out last night, but I started to think, really think and I... It answers so many questions, it was like a trigger that lifted a cloth from over my eyes like I could finally see what had always been in front of me. Teddy, school, all the terrible, horrible things that keep happening. It's all because of you."

"For me and for my father."

"Your father tried to kill you when you were little because he knew-"

"He wasn't my father Mark, you know that."

Mark's knees began to tremble and he sank down into the snow, crying. Damien took a few slow steps forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want to hurt you Mark, you're like my brother," Damien's voice was soft and gentle. Mark shook his head and pushed his hand away.

"The Beast has no brother!"

"I love you, Mark!"

"You can't love anyone, you're... You're a monster!"

"How can you say that? After everything we've done together? We've been side by side for seven years now and you just want to throw it all away?"

"How can I trust you?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

This was all far too much for a thirteen year old boy to handle. Mark couldn't deal with this, he just wanted to run away from this nightmare, run away and leave it all behind so he could get-

His mind flashed back to a day not too long ago at the Academy when he had been in the main lobby practicing with the band. Damien, in a rare display, had come flying down the stairs and bolted out the door. He hadn't come back until just before curfew and despite his curious prying Damien had calmly told him to go to sleep. He'd thought nothing more on that day until now. Just his cousin being weird.

Oh G- It made sense.

He looked up at Damien and saw... His cousin, his brother his best friend in all the world. Most of all someone just like him, someone who understood him and who he could understand. His lower lip trembled and Damien nodded.

"Come with me, Mark" Damien held out his hand and after a long moment Mark took it. Damien helped him to his feet and then affectionately brushed a hunk of snow off of his pant leg. "I would have begged you, you know," Damien said softly, "I don't want to do this alone."

"You don't have to," Mark gave him a small smile and was rewarded with Damien's widest grin. They were brothers and blood had no bearing on it. They were brothers because they weren't really alone in the world.

"I'm... Afraid, Damien. I'm afraid of you, of what's to come, I don't..." Mark shook his head. Still too much.

"I'm not now that I know you'll be there," Damien replied.

Mark's smile grew real, he didn't have all of the answers but he had at least one.

"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, obviously he hadn't put everything Dr. Warner 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're just hanging out."

END