"I look like a total jerkoff."

That's all A.J Soprano could say when he looked into the full-length mirror, seeing himself in the silly looking outfit and the loss of freedom it represented. His father made some light-hearted cracks, trying to make him feel better about the situation, A.J guessed. Nothing, however, was going to get him to feel good about it. There was nothing he could say or do that would get him out of this situation either. He was screwed.

As A.J sat on his bed, his thoughts raced, swirling in a whirlwind of anger and frustration. The silence of the house around him only amplifying his feelings of helplessness. His eyes darted to the corner of the room where his bags were already packed for military school, a decision he hadn't had a say in. Tomorrow, he would be gone.

It wasn't even his fault.

Egan Cosmo, his so-called 'friend', was the one who got them caught. The plan had been foolproof; steal the answers, pass the test, no harm, no foul. But Egan had messed up, and now A.J. was the one who had to pay the price for it.

Getting to his feet, A.J started to slowly pace back and forth, feeling the raw tension simmering just beneath the surface. A slow boil of anxiousness and anger. Each minute that passed brought him closer to his departure, and with it, the realization that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

But maybe...maybe there was something he could do that would give him some kind of satisfaction before tomorrow morning.

A small, sinister idea began to take shape in his mind, fueled by the growing resentment and frustration building up within him. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was just a little after 10 p.m. Without giving himself time to reconsider, A.J. quickly grabbed his phone and dialed Egan's number.

"Hello?"

"Yo, it's me. Meet me at the park. Now," A.J. told him, his tone was cold and firm.

Egan hesitated.

"It's late, A.J. What's this about?"

"Just get there."

Before Egan could argue, A.J. hung up the phone. His heart raced as he walked over to his dresser, where a roll of quarters sat. He picked it up, the metal cool and heavy in his hand, and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He wasn't even sure why he was taking it, but something about the weight of it felt reassuring. He slipped out of his room, careful not to make any noise, and crept down the stairs as quietly as possible. The house was still, his parents already asleep. It was like he was moving through a dream.

His actions feeling almost distant, detached.

The park was dark and empty, a layer of mist hovering just above the grass. A.J. stood beneath a flickering streetlight, hands in his pockets, the roll of quarters pressing against his right-hand palm. His breath was slow, deliberate, his mind buzzing with adrenaline. A.J suddenly heard footsteps behind him and Egan appeared from the shadows, looking confused, maybe even a little worried.

"What's up, man? Why'd you call me out here?" Egan asked, glancing around nervously.

A.J. didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a step forward, his pulse pounding in his ears as he gave the other boy a look of fury.

"You got me expelled."

"What?" Egan took a half-step back. "What? No, man, that wasn't my fault! We both—"

Before Egan could finish, A.J. swung his fist, the roll of quarters adding a sickening weight to the blow. It connected with Egan's jaw with a crack, sending him stumbling backward.

"What the hell?!" Egan yelped with extreme pain, holding his face in shock, but A.J. didn't stop.

He came right at the other boy, punching Egan again and again, the anger A.J had been holding onto for the last few days had finally exploding out of him. Each punch felt more satisfying than the last. He could feel the metal digging into his palm, his knuckles bruising with every impact, but the pain didn't register. All he could see was Egan's bloodied face, the fear in his eyes.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, A.J let up and froze in place.

Egan lay on the ground, groaning, his face a swollen, bloody mess. A.J. stood over him, breathing heavily, his knuckles throbbing. For a brief moment, he felt a surge of satisfaction. Then the reality of what he'd done began to settle in.

He'd never done anything like this before. Not really. Sure, he'd gotten into a few scraps, nothing too serious, but this was different. This was brutal. It wasn't even a fight; it was an assault.

A.J. turned away, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't say a word to Egan as he walked back toward his house, the adrenaline fading, leaving only the aching throb in his right hand. By the time he slipped back inside and climbed into bed, the enormity of what he had done started to sink in.

He sat the roll of quarters down on his nightstand, the wrapper was stained with drops of blood. His knuckles were raw, bloodied, and swollen, but he didn't care. He rubbed them gently, wincing at the pain, although it didn't matter.

Tomorrow, he'd be gone. Off to military school, far away from all of this...

XXXXXX

The next morning, A.J. sat silently in the back seat of the car, his hands resting in his lap. Tony and Carmella were in the front, talking quietly, but A.J. wasn't listening. His thoughts were still stuck on last night. The way Egan had looked when A.J finally stopped his attack, the feeling of the quarters in his hand. He kept glancing down at his knuckles, now bruised and stiff, though he pulled down the sleeve of his uniform further down around his hand, to kept them hidden from his parents.

As the car pulled up to the military academy, A.J. felt an odd sense of calm wash over him. This was the end of one chapter, the beginning of another. He didn't argue or complain, it wouldn't change anything. His father parked the car, and they got out.

Tony helped him unload his bags, and Carmella stood beside him, hands on her hips, looking a little anxious herself.

"Y'know, A.J., I'm proud of you," Tony said, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder. "You didn't put up a fight about this. That shows maturity. You're finally starting to grow up."

A.J. forced a small smile but said nothing.

If his father only knew.

Carmella, on the other hand, didn't look so convinced. She watched A.J. closely, her eyes narrowing slightly. She could sense something was off, even if she didn't know exactly what.

"You okay, A.J.?" she asked.

"Yeah," A.J. said, shrugging, still playing it cool. "I'm fine."

However, Carmella couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, something deeper than just nerves about military school. She glanced at Tony, who seemed oblivious, and then back at her son. "Well, if you need anything...you can always call us," she assured, though she wasn't sure if A.J. would ever take her up on the offer.

That's when she looked down at A.J's hand. The sleeve had risen back up slightly but it was enough to see the bruises. Before she could even get a chance to ask about it an official came over to take A.J along with him.

As they drove away, Carmella kept looking back at A.J. retreating form through the rearview mirror, a nagging feeling in her chest growing stronger.

She just hoped, whatever it was, that her son would be okay.

XXXXXX

That evening, Carmella stood at the kitchen counter, her phone pressed to her ear, the atmosphere of the house almost muted by the weight of the conversation she was having. The voice on the other end belonged to a friend from their church, someone who kept her finger on the pulse of local gossip, but what she was saying wasn't idle chit-chat.

"Egan Cosmo's in the hospital, Carmella. They say he got jumped in the park last night. Badly hurt. The poor boy's face is a mess."

Carmella's heart sank as she processed the information. Egan was A.J.'s friend, one of the boys he used to hang around with at Verbum Dei. She hadn't seen or heard from Egan since A.J. got expelled. The sudden news of his hospitalization sent a chill through her.

"When did this happen?" Carmella asked, her voice steady, but her mind already racing.

"Last night, around the same time you all were getting ready to send A.J. off to military school. People are saying he was really beaten up, Carmella. Some of the doctors think it might've been more than one person."

Carmella hung up after politely thanking her friend, but her thoughts were now swirling.

Last night.

She thought about A.J.'s quietness this morning. His odd calmness as they had dropped him off at military school. She also remembered how raw his knuckles had looked when he'd hugged her goodbye. Her stomach churned with worry.

She tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on something else, but they stuck to her like a bad dream. When Tony came home from work that evening, Carmella had already gone through countless scenarios in her head. As they sat down to dinner, the question still ate away at her.

"I heard some news today," Carmella began, carefully placing her fork down. "About Egan Cosmo, A.J's friend that he got in trouble with. He's in the hospital. He got beaten up pretty bad at the park last night, around nine-thirty, ten o'clock."

Tony, mid-bite, paused, lifting an eyebrow.

"Jesus. Kids these days, always gettin' themselves into trouble. What was he doing in the park all by himself so late?"

"That's the thing," Carmella continued, her voice a little softer now. "I don't know. But it was last night, Tony. Right before we took A.J. to military school."

"Kids fight." Tony shrugged, already dismissing the connection. "Egan probably pissed off the wrong group. It's a shame, but what's it got to do with A.J.?"

Carmella hesitated. She wasn't sure how to phrase what she was feeling.

"It's just…didn't you see how A.J was when we drove him to military school? He was quiet. Too quiet. And when I hugged him, I saw his knuckles…they looked bruised, Tony."

Tony scoffed, shaking his head.

"Carmella, come on. A.J. wouldn't do something like that. Sure, he's no saint, but he's not some street thug beatin' kids up in parks. Besides, the kid's scrawny—he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I'm not saying I know for sure, but…it's just strange, the coincidence." Carmella frowned, her unease growing. "He was angry, Tony. Really angry about getting expelled."

Tony waved her off, turning his attention back to his food. "Look, A.J. probably hates military school right now, but that's normal. The kid needs structure, and this is gonna be good for him. Let's not start seeing ghosts where there aren't any."

Carmella nodded slowly, though her mind was far from at ease. She wanted to believe Tony. She wanted to believe that A.J. was just a normal, rebellious teenager going through a phase. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. She wasn't the type to jump to conclusions, but when it came to her son, every instinct told her that something wasn't right.

That night, after Tony had gone to bed, Carmella stayed up. She paced the living room, her phone in her hand, fingers itching to dial the number for the military academy. She knew it would be late, but she just wanted to check on A.J., hear his voice, and maybe feel reassured that everything was okay. But as she stared at the phone, the weight of her suspicions kept pressing on her chest. What if he really had been involved in what happened to Egan?

If he had…what kind of son was she raising?

Her thoughts swirled for hours, the house silent around her as she finally sat on the edge of the couch, exhausted but unable to sleep. She thought about all the things A.J. had gone through. The ups and downs, the expectations, and the pressure of being Tony Soprano's son. How much of that had led him to where he was now? And how much of it was her fault?

A few days later, Carmella found herself staring at the phone again, still undecided. But before she could make a move, it rang. She jumped, startled, and quickly grabbed it, hoping it wasn't more bad news.

"Hello?"

It was the military academy. The voice on the other end informed her that A.J. had been involved in a minor altercation during drills that morning. Nothing serious, just some pushing and shoving between him and another cadet. But it was enough to make her heart drop. She thanked them, her voice trembling slightly, and hung up.

Carmella sat down, her mind racing. This wasn't just coincidence. Something was happening to A.J., something deeper than just teenage rebellion. And no matter how much Tony brushed it off, she knew they couldn't ignore it any longer. Once Tony sat down at the table to drink his morning coffee, she sat down next to him, determined to make him see things her way.

"Tony, I just got a call from the academy," she started, keeping her voice steady. "A.J. got into some kind of fight this morning."

Tony looked up from the newspaper he was reading, raising an eyebrow.

"What kind of fight? Kids shove each other around all the time."

"It's more than a fight, Tony. Something is going on with him. I know you think sending him to military school was the right move, but it feels like he's slipping away."

"Slipping away? Come on, Carmella." Tony frowned, lowering the paper. 'Always with the drama,' is what he wanted to say, but Tony bit it back. "He's just acting out. He'll be fine. Military school will toughen him up, give him some discipline. You gotta stop worrying about every little thing."

"Are you sure about that?" Carmella pressed, her voice rising. "Because I'm not. I saw his knuckles. I saw how calm he was that morning. And now he's getting into fights at his new school. Don't you think we should be paying attention to all this?"

Tony leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression growing defensive.

"So, what? You think we should pull him out of military school? Bring him home and coddle him again? That's the last thing he needs, Carm. He needs to learn how to handle things, how to toughen up."

"I'm not saying we should coddle him," Carmella shot back. "But we can't just ignore what's happening. We need to figure out what's going on with him before it's too late."

Tony was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'll talk to him," he muttered. "I'll call the school later to check up on him, see how he's doin'."

Carmella nodded, though her heart was still heavy. She wasn't sure if a conversation would be enough, but it was a start. At least Tony was finally taking her concerns seriously.