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"Mark? Look at me, Mark."
Mark turned around as though against his will, and the look he gave Damien was fearful and anguished. But not, Damien fancied — hoped — without the love they still shared.
"I was scared, too, Mark." He stepped closer, his hands out. "Do you remember that day I ran from the academy, when I wouldn't speak to you afterward?"
A hint of confusion crept in, and Mark nodded jerkily.
Damien smiled, just a little, gently. "Do you think it was easy for me to find out all of this? It took me a while to realize what it really means." He shook his head. "‘And power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and nations'," he quoted.
"To bring about the end of the world!" Mark yelled back, his voice breaking on a sob.
"No!" Damien yelled back, then quieted again with a sigh. "Did you ever read the whole book of Revelation? Did you ever notice who does all the killing, all the destroying? It's not the Beast, Mark, it's the angels. It's God. The Beast brings order, and healing, and peace, to everyone except the ones who cast him down." He laughed a little. "You know me, Mark. When have I ever brought more destruction than that time I tripped and sent the banquet table into the pool?"
Mark laughed, the sound startled from him. He covered his mouth, tears starting in his eyes. Damien stepped closer still, almost close enough to touch. His hands twitched, but he kept them at his sides, waiting. "Who will you trust, Mark; me, or some dusty old book you've always made fun of on Sundays?"
Mark sniffed, rubbing a hand across his face. "It's too much, Damien."
"I know." He laughed, the sound full of all his wonder and disbelief and fear. "You think I don't know that?" He reached out and grasped Mark's hand tentatively. "It'll be easier for both of us, if we do it together. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have by my side."
Mark's lips twitched as he fought a smile. "That's because you're a huge sap." He clutched Damien's hand tight.
"It takes one to know one!" Damien shoved him into the snow.
Mark yelled and pounced back, and then they were throwing snow at each other in great handfuls, laughing gleefully.
Damien snuck into Mark's room late that night, and they sat curled close on the bed, blankets tucked around them.
"So, when you went after Teddy, was that…?" Mark trailed off, uncertain.
Damien shrugged. "I suppose so. I still don't really know what I did. I just…wanted him to leave you alone. Wanted to hurt him for hurting you."
"What about all the deaths?" Mark's voice was quiet, subdued. "What Doctor Warren said, all the people who've died this year. Was that you, too?"
"Not me," he answered firmly. He pressed closer, leaning his head against Mark's shoulder. "I think maybe some of them…people want to look out for me, you know? I mean, your dad would kill anyone who threatened you, wouldn't he?"
"Not literally!" Mark protested. Damien looked at him, silent. "Well, I don't think he would. Maybe. Anyway, they're doing a lousy job of it, Damien!"
"What do you mean?" Damien frowned at him.
"Doctor Warren knows. He figured it out, or that reporter lady told him. People keep finding out. Like me, even."
Damien twitched. "But you're with me! Aren't you?"
Mark pushed against him, tilting his head to rest on Damien's. "But what if I wasn't? And what about Doctor Warren? You can't keep killing people, Damien; it just makes it look more suspicious. He's already told Dad. Even if Dad does think he might be crazy."
Damien glowered. "We can't just let him go, either. Eventually, someone is going to believe him — you did!"
Mark winced and shot him an apologetic look. "He can't exactly go around ranting to everyone, either. That would just…" He trailed off and sat up straight. "What you did to Teddy — you think you could do it again?"
"Probably. Why?" Damien looked him over.
Mark nodded. "I have an idea."
Mark screamed. The sound echoed through the house, and Uncle Richard stopped mid-sentence, his head snapping up. "What the devil?"
"It's Mark!" Damien turned and ran toward the sound, his uncle overtaking him and leading the way.
Ann gasped and yelled after them, "I'll call 911!"
They rounded the corner to the living room and Damien grabbed the doorframe as his shoes slid on the wooden floor. Uncle Richard was halfway across the room already, yelling in anger. "Charles!" He dove for the other man where he stood above Mark, his hands around his neck. They collided, and Mark coughed as the impact freed him, then scurried to one side. Damien hurried to him, clutching him close.
"Richard, you don't understand!" Doctor Warren yelled. "He's got to be stopped! He —"
"He's my son, damn you!" With a violence Damien had known was there, Richard Thorn slammed his fist into his friend's face, sending him to the floor clutching his jaw.
Ann appeared in the doorway and gasped as she took in the sight of them. "The police are on their way. An ambulance too, I think. Richard, are you —?"
"I'm fine," he answered grimly. "Mark, are you hurt?"
"I'm okay." Mark's voice was hoarse, and he coughed and winced. "He kept yelling about evil, something about the Antichrist."
His father looked up from where he was holding Doctor Warren down. He scrutinized Mark, his eyes lingering on the bruises coming up around his neck, then nodded. "Boys, go with your mother. Stay out of here for now; best not to set him off again."
"Richard, are you sure?" Ann held out her arms, and Damien helped Mark over to her. She hugged them both close.
"I'll be fine, Ann." He scowled down at his former friend. "And Charles won't be hurting anyone any more."
"We still have to get rid of that wall." They were in Damien's room tonight, lying close and warm in the moonlight filtering in through the pines. "If anyone that sees it knows who I am…" Damien traced his fingers over the thumbprint at the hollow of Mark's throat. Then he smiled, thinking of what they'd already done. "Or we could have it discovered to be a fake. Something created by that archaeologist to get my father to believe and kill me."
Mark huffed in laughter. "See?" he whispered. "You're learning. Less killing, more sneaking."
"Yes, well, subtle's never exactly been my strong point." He grinned. "But I have you for that, don't I?" He lay back down next to Mark, holding him close. "Together forever?"
"Together forever," Mark confirmed. "Brother."
And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon.
And he exerciseth all the power of the first beast before him, and causeth the earth and them which dwell therein to worship the first beast, whose deadly wound was healed.
— Revelation 13:11–12