Chapter 82- The End & A New Beginning

Saturday, May 30, 1999, 4:30PM. Graduation ceremonies for the Joshua L. Chamberlain High School Class of 1999, held at the school's basketball gymnasium, had commenced half an hour ago. Principal Eric Decauter had made some opening remarks, and so had the Governor of Maine, who had come to see the commencement in person as the distinguished guest speaker. After the Governor had spoken, Taylor Bedford, President of the Class of 1999, got up and made his own speech. Eighteen year old Taylor made the speech without a single footnote. Like Douglas MacArthur, he had paced the floor of his room, planning and rehearsing the entire thing. It was an eloquent, beautiful speech, full of optimism and hope, praising the achievements of the Class of 1999 while overlooking their failures, prejudices, and the oppressive, fascist authority of Henry and Mark Evans that, like some fucking cancer, had spread into and had a hold on everything. Yet nonetheless, despite the political correctness of his speech, he was proud of it.

Taylor, like all the boys in the graduating class, wore a blue cap and gown, while the girls all wore silver caps and gowns. He talked for about ten minutes, like the previous two speakers had, but seemed nervous as well as excited. He was proud, he was happy, and he was terrified that he'd go over his allotted time and take away time from Henry Evans. The year might have been over, but Taylor knew he wasn't safe from Henry's wrath, or Mark's. Secretly he wondered if he'd ever be.

But Taylor kept his fear a secret, made his speech, and neatly turned it over to Henry, secretly thanking God that he was going to Harvard this fall and Henry and Mark weren't. They could have if they had wanted to; Taylor didn't doubt that. But had he heard they were going to, Taylor would have taken the admission offer from Cornell or Penn State or Yale instead. He was ready to be done with the Evans brothers and move on with his life.

XX

Mark Evans sat beside his brother Henry on the stage, with the 310 other members of his graduating class out in the folding chairs set up on the gym floor, row after row, hundreds more of parents and visitors, relatives and friends in the stands to either side. The place was pretty packed.

Impeccably dressed at all times, Mark and his brother had prepared especially for today. They'd each spent over an hour showering, shaving, putting on deodorant and cologne, checking their appearances again and again in a mirror. Their black Brooks Brothers shoes were buffed to a high mirror shine. Their Rolex watches had been specially cleaned by an authorized jeweler. And Lisa Doyle had been a good girl and taken each towering adolescent's hand-tailored Brooks Brothers suit to the dry cleaners just yesterday.

Mark Evans had won the honor of being the valedictorian of his class, beating Henry in the narrowest difference between a high school valedictorian and salutatorian in Maine history. Taylor Bedford, the useful idiot, was third. Jackson Lee, much to Henry and Mark's annoyance, was fourth, and John LaFleur was tenth. Jason Morgan was seventy-fifth, which amused Henry and Mark enough that it kind of balanced out.

The decision between Mark and Henry for valedictorian had been so close that school administration had struggled with the decision several days after it was supposed to have been made, and they threw final exams into it in the hopes of getting a better idea of what call to make. When Mark was told he had won the honor and would be speaking at graduation, he agreed on one condition- that Henry sit up on the stage beside him. Mark would have refused had they not given him that. No way in hell was Henry, the greatest of all the human beings in this school, going to sit like some ordinary kid amongst the rest of the graduates.

Mark, upright and alert, handsome and stunning under the gymnasium lights, was draped in cords, sashes, and one medal after another. Henry, looking equally magnificent beside him, was just as well decorated. They'd each come out of senior year with a GPA higher than 4.0, something that was next to impossible to do, and literally so without a load of Honors classes.

Yet Mark and Henry had done it like it was no big deal, just like they did anything.

Sitting with the faculty was Julie Michaels, who had little Alexander in her arms. While paying a visit to her house yesterday, Mark had instructed Alex to be quiet and respectful during the ceremonies, something Julie had laughed off as a good-natured joke. Yet Alex was not making a sound as he looked around curiously. Mark hungrily eyed Julie for a few moments as Taylor talked. Fucking her had been one of senior year's greatest pleasures, and the fact that accidentally getting her pregnant had been turned into a win was just further proof of Mark's superiority.

Lisa Doyle was out there among the silver-wearing girls, slender and beautiful. She looked genuinely happy and had really pulled it together today. The baby growing inside her was not due for a while yet, so Lisa's body didn't show it at all. As far as anyone outside the Evans and Doyle families knew, she was doing fine and didn't have any baby on the way whatsoever.

As Taylor wrapped it up and introduced Mark, the auburn brown-haired teenager looked over at his brother briefly, and they locked eyes for a moment. Then Mark stood and walked to the podium. Like Taylor, he had memorized his speech. Unlike Taylor, he had never even written it down.

Wallace and Susan were up front in the parents' seating area, having been granted special seating. Henry's birth grandparents were here, too, along with some relatives from over the border in Canada. And there was Connie, looking distinctly disgruntled. Mark wanted to blow the little squirt a raspberry, but he couldn't mess this up, not even to make fun of her.

Clearing his throat, Mark surveyed the crowd for just another moment and then began to speak.

"Parents, distinguished guests, families, friends, fellow graduates- thank you for coming. It's been a pleasure. It really has. I'm honored to be the top-ranked member of my class, to have been co-captain of the varsity football and hockey teams this past year, and to have made all the friends I have during my time here. I'd like to thank my parents for supporting me every step of the way, my teachers for providing me with all the knowledge I asked for and more. I'd like to thank my friends for spending their time with me, and giving me so many great memories. I'll never forget any of this. Thank all of you."

"But I'd be wrong if I didn't say I owe everything I am and have done, everything that has me up here today as valedictorian, to Henry. My brother is a great man. His courtly good manners, his true New England charm, and his drive and intelligence make him stand out from the crowd wherever he goes." Mark flashed a brilliant white smile. "Now, the fact that he can bench-press seven hundred pounds and stands six feet, six inches tall- that probably helps too." The crowd laughed appreciatively, and Henry gave a good-natured chuckle from behind Mark.

"The fact is, though, that Henry would stand out no matter how tall he was, no matter how strong he was. My brother is an extraordinary person. He has changed my life infinitely for the better. He has made me from the mouse I used to be into the man I've become. He has been there for me without fail. His time has been mine to spend, and he has encouraged and supported me in everything I have done. It would be truthful to say Henry saved my life, because without him, I wouldn't be here today. I would have never made such good grades, or made so many friends. Henry's relentless drive to be and do better in every way possible has inspired me to do the same. I owe him so much. Henry, thank you. You, above all, are responsible for my being where I am today." Mark had to fight to compose himself here, and he paused a few seconds before going on.

Behind him, Henry took in a sharp breath, sniffling. He was fighting to keep it together, too. This was an emotional moment for both of them.

"Henry and I have admired Gottlieb Daimler for a long time. In particular, the man who became one of the founders of Daimler AG and Mercedes-Benz had a motto we both admire: 'Das beste oder nichts', 'The best or nothing'. That describes both Henry and me. We are never willing to accept something unless it's what we chose for ourselves." Mark's voice took on force and conviction as he spoke, and his crisp blue eyes were alive and bright with the fire of conviction. "We can and should go into the future with that motto in mind. We don't have to settle. We don't have to bargain. We don't have to compromise.

The future we want is waiting for us, and it is ours to seize! If we only realize we have the power to grasp, shape, and mold the future to be what we want. We do not have to accept anything less than the best for ourselves. Henry and I never will. None of us should. It will be the best or nothing, and all we have to do is realize we have that kind of power in our hands. No one has a right to stop us or get in our way. No one has a right to discourage us, tell us we can't do something, or to say to us, 'You are not good enough.' Every chance and opportunity we want is out there waiting for us; all we have to do is take it. From now until the end of our lives, Henry and I will live by those words- 'The best or nothing'. All of us can do that. Every one of us should. This has been a great four years, and as I continue to pursue perfection in all I do, I know the next four will be even better. I look forward to hearing what we all become in the future, fellow graduates. Whatever it is, I know it will be extraordinary."

"I want to say one more thing. I know a lot of us are concerned about a friend who joined us this year. He hasn't been heard from since Saturday two weeks ago. I believe I can speak for everyone when I say that I'm worried about Chris Marshall, and I hope he's okay. Chris came to us as a transfer, the new kid in town, and as we got to the end of this year he was one of the most popular guys in school. Anyone who's met him could tell you Chris was really something. You couldn't help but admire him, because one look at him and you could tell he didn't believe anything was impossible. Chris, wherever he is, would be proud of us all. We've come so far and done so much, and I'm only sorry he didn't get to be a part of it sooner. Let's take inspiration from him, aim high, and work hard for whatever we want in life. If he could do it, so can we. Everyone, thank you again. It's been an honor."

XX

Jackson Lee wanted to puke all over his spit-shined shoes as he listened to that fucking racist liar talk. He had never met someone so corrupt, so dishonest, and so willing to disregard rules and morals if they didn't suit his own attitude and beliefs. Mark Evans did whatever the fuck he pleased, and he gladly brutalized and oppressed anyone who got in the way. Or anyone he simply didn't like the looks of. Jackson had been raised to respect others and to revere Americans for saving half his country from communism during the Cold War- and for trying damn hard to save the whole thing. He had always been taught to have respect for the United States, and especially for its Marines.

It was for that exact reason that it burned Jackson up to know he wasn't the only one in his class who'd secured an appointment to the United States Naval Academy. Mark and Henry, the biggest jerks and bigots he had ever known, attending Annapolis, aspiring to become Marine officers like Jackson. It was fucking wrong. Marines, especially Marine officers, revered such traits as honor, courage and commitment. Moral integrity was absolutely essential to being an officer in the Marines, and Henry and Mark Evans didn't have a shred of it. They were the worst people that Jackson had ever met, the worst kind of American there was.

It was a motherfucking disgrace that they would, in all probability, make it through Annapolis and through Marine Officer Candidate School. It infuriated Jackson that he was going to have to put up with these two for another four goddamned years. They were too clever to give him a likely shot at getting them expelled for some dishonorable act, but if Jackson saw it, he vowed he would take it. These two were brilliant, but some day they were going to screw up. When that day came, whether it was this fall or in ten years, Jackson vowed he was going to be there to make sure they fucking paid for all their shit at last.

Whether it was in the United States Marine Corps or the Republic of Korea Marine Corps, whether it was in North America, the Middle East, or the high mountains of the northern occupied homeland, Jackson would be everything Henry and Mark Evans would never be as Marines. He was fiercely dedicated to that. The son of a lifelong warrior, Jackson had inherited his father's fearless martial spirit and his total dedication to the protection of those in need of his aid. Henry and Mark were going to become Marines for the power, the pussy, the chance to kill without punishment. Jackson was in it for honor, for country. He looked forward to being the Marine those Evans brothers would always claim they were. For every wrong thing they did in the Corps, Jackson would do ten things right.

XX

John LaFleur listened attentively as Mark Evans made his speech. Not out of respect, but out of a sense that anyone as dangerous as Mark needed to be watched closely, and that included listening to their speeches. John listened, and he wasn't surprised. This was the biggest pile of manure he'd ever heard in his life. He'd expected nothing different. A lot of grandstanding, a lot of egotistical, high-minded crap that might have been pretty inspiring had it come from… well, anyone else, really. Anyone but Henry and Mark.

His life changed drastically in the span of a single school year, John had been forced to re-evaluate a lot about himself as a person. John could no longer live as comfortably as he had for the past several years, a loyal prince on the court of the two kings. He was standing for himself now, and he didn't have the lies he'd once told himself clouding his vision.

As he listened, John struggled to make sense of it, even though he already knew. This was the most blatantly false and even ominous speech he'd ever heard. The stuff about Henry- oh, yea, that was true. No doubt there. But the rest of it was garbage, at least as far as anybody else in this class went. Mark wasn't talking about anybody but himself and Henry. And when he talked about refusing to accept anything but just what he wanted… John got chills thinking about what that could mean. He hated Mark and Henry, and was deeply ashamed for all the things he had looked the other way on over the years. He had a lot to atone for, even if he'd done some good things, helped a few people out.

Eric, that poor boy whose phone Henry had destroyed- his life was better because John had intervened. His best friend Trevor had a better year ahead of him as well. There'd been a few others John had managed to help, but not enough. He'd overlooked too much for too long. It scared John a little, thinking about what Henry and Mark were probably going out into the world to do. They were never going to change. They weren't going to one day come back and say sorry, or show they'd grown up. This was how they would be for as long as they lived.

But in the strangest way, John wanted to thank Henry, who had swung a locker door into his face and beaten him until he could barely stand. He wanted to thank Mark, who had laughed when John had told him. Had the Evans brothers never turned on John like that, had they never shown him so clearly who and what they really were, John would have never grown up like he had these past months. The rift between him and Scott would have been permanent, and Cindy would have passed out of his life not long after high school, just some girl he'd fucked for a while. Henry and Mark had brought John so low he'd wanted to die. They'd humiliated and degraded him, and threatened him with death if he ever told anyone what they'd done to him. But in doing so they'd also set him free.

John would now live the rest of his life free of Henry and Mark's influence, without their lies polluting his own morals and beliefs. He vowed to do his best to be whatever it was that Cindy saw in him, to be a man of integrity and honor. In other words, the opposite of Henry and Mark. With Cindy beside him, John knew he could do damn near anything. Henry and Mark had both used her and left her, but that only meant that she knew what bullies and jerks they were just as well as John did. This was a turning point for both of them, this past year. John looked forward to being everything Henry and Mark weren't from here on out, and to doing so for the rest of his life.

XX

Scott Shepard wanted to sneer at Mark Evans as the class valedictorian made his speech. That guy was such a liar. Scott knew he couldn't do anything about it now. He'd done all he could to prep his team for the transition, to keep going as the most unappreciated but honorable of Chamberlain High School's teams.

He had worked especially hard to train his guys and get them ready, to reach out and include every freshman, sophomore, and junior, and to involve the other senior players in the mentoring and training process. Scott had done all this because he knew Henry and Mark would. That fascist brotherhood, that freaky authoritarian gang they had going on over in football and hockey- you could damn well bet they were training their own successors, planning for the future. Scott was proud to say he had realized this in time and worked to counter it.

It could never have been done without the help of every single player on his team, without help from his coach. The hard-shelled and profane Jackson Lee was his enforcer and drill instructor, and, once he got to know you, a very good friend. The younger boys were a little scared of Jackson, but he was like a fierce poppa bear to them, and in fact, that was what some of the underclassmen soccer players called Jackson Lee, "The Bear", referring both to his heavily-muscled, imposing appearance, and his fierce personality. Scott was sad to see himself and Jackson parting ways come the fall. He was sorry that John and Jackson's friendship would have to be so short-lived, at least in terms of them going to school together.

The whole thing was so terribly ironic- had Henry never savagely beaten John in the locker room during that football game back in the fall, John would never have parted ways with Henry and Mark. He would have stayed friends with them and never changed his thinking and his beliefs. Had Henry not beaten him up and Mark not laughed in his face about it, John would never have been set free, able to reunite with Scott and make better friends as he rediscovered the old sport, the beautiful game, the one and true football that here in America they called soccer.

Had Henry and Mark never humiliated John and enjoyed ruining him, he would never have turned to Scott for help- as reluctantly as he had done it at first. Had the Evans brothers never brutally harmed and mistreated John, he would never have grown up as much as he had, become friends with Scott and Jackson and the rest of the guys. Henry and Mark had given Scott his friend back, and as much as he hated them still, in a strange way Scott was grateful. He wouldn't have wished what had happened to John on him, but since it had, he was glad John had come out of it all a better, stronger person. Hopefully that would be the story of the world's run-in with Henry and Mark Evans- unpleasant, but only temporary, and soon improved on and left behind. Scott hoped so, and aimed to do all he could to work towards just that type of future.

XX

Cindy Howell could not believe she'd ever dated Mark. Or Henry. God, how had she ever let herself be the one exception they'd made to their unspoken rule of never dating somebody the other had dated? She had the dubious honor of being the only girl they'd both dated, the only one they'd both fucked for a while and then discarded, broken up with on some excuse or another.

Oh, they were hot. They had muscle and looks and could make love like you'd never believe. But they were also sociopathic, egomaniacal jerks. They were sadistic bullies, cold, manipulative jackasses. And in retrospect, Cindy knew her swim-model looks were the thing they'd both been after all along. Henry and Mark were each psychologically addicted to sex, had been for years, and Cindy had been so enjoyable for one that the other had dated her, too.

It made her feel dirty and unclean to think that they'd been inside her all those times. Had she ever been that stupid, to screw a guy on looks alone? Because behind the charming veneer, behind the façade of fine dinners and "I love you", they were after a good fuck and that was it. Cindy could see that very clearly now. Seeing the pain John had endured, the terrible, uncomprehending hurt he'd gone through at their hands, had changed Cindy. She had once been like all the other ex-girlfriends the Evans brothers had, missing the good days and wishing she could take them back. Now she wanted to kick each of them in the crotch, take a shot at the organs each of them prized and treasured so much.

That would only have been a fraction of the pain her boyfriend had endured because of them.

Anyone who doubted there was something seriously wrong with Henry and Mark Evans only needed to look at what they had done to John LaFleur. Such a sweet, handsome boy. Charming, athletic, intellectual, sensitive, and amazing in bed, he was incredibly sincere and caring. John might have made football his sport for many years, but he had never adopted Henry and Mark's brutal, no-holds-barred approach to the game. John played football like he did everything else- intensely, but honestly. He didn't cheat, lie, or aim to hurt anyone deliberately. And yet Henry and Mark had hurt him the second they'd had a good excuse to. Not only had they done it, they had enjoyed it. It was unforgivable. The misery and pain on his face as Cindy had made him take off his shirt in her living room, the black, blue and purple bruises all over him…

It made Cindy so mad. She wanted to kick the crap out of those cruel, deceitful macho assholes, and all their conformist friends. So many kids who had never crossed John before and never been crossed by him had immediately turned on him when Henry and Mark had put the word out. Most either took part in the harassment or stood by and did nothing. Practically none stood up and said that what was happening was wrong.

Cindy had started dating John because he was charming and good-looking, and a good number of their early dates had been at those legendary parties Henry and Mark hosted. She'd had sex with him in other people's bedrooms, on couches and in closets and bathrooms. It had been fun and Cindy had honestly thought that was what John was good for, some fun times. She hadn't really appreciated him as a true, serious boyfriend. Only his savage beating at Henry Evans' hands had made her change her view of John.

Now… now Cindy was so attached to John she couldn't bear to think of life without him. He was getting better and stronger every day, and was his own person in full, no longer just a nice-looking boy conforming to the standards of Henry and Mark's inner circle. Cindy loved him and honestly looked forward to him asking her to marry him one day. As terrible as Mark was, as nasty and cruel as he and Henry both were, they had both done John a favor by kicking him out of that little court of theirs. John was free now, and he had grown up fast in a short time. In working so hard to support and assist him, Cindy had grown up too.

In bonding like they had done as John began to rebuild his shattered life, Cindy and John had found something that very few people knew at any point in their lives. Cindy refused to be grateful to the Evans brothers for bringing those circumstances about. They were horrible, cruel and dishonest people. But John was free of them now and they had made that possible. They had meant to kick him out of their circle, but they had not meant for John to survive, let alone succeed, afterwards. Cindy meant to see to it that John succeeded as much as he possibly could. After the pain he'd known this year, he deserved it.

This was love. This, right here, was real love. Cindy would get up and fight for this relationship every time from here on out, and she knew John would do the same if he ever needed to. This was not going to be perfect. Just because they had fallen in love didn't mean she and John would just be happy forever. They had the chance to be, but they were going to have to earn it, to fight for it. To never, ever quit on each other. Cindy saw hope that she and John could do just that in the way that she had seen past her anger at him after that party at his house that he'd excluded her from. He'd asked her to listen, and even though she hadn't wanted to, she had, and Cindy would be grateful for the rest of her life that she hadn't turned John away. John had needed her very badly when he'd approached her by her locker and begged her to let him explain. Because she'd given him that chance, she had kept the most amazing, caring, loving boy she'd ever met. That was all it had taken, one chance, one instance of stopping and listening when you didn't feel like it.

Cindy had taken John back when she'd had plenty of reasons to not bother. Now that she had him, she wasn't ever letting him go again. John was the one who mattered today. Henry and Mark could go fly a kite for all Cindy cared.

XX

Jason Morgan was not into this. He wasn't into it at all. The whole time Mark went on up there, getting all worked up about his brother and talking some carpe diem shit the rest of the time, Jason wanted to slouch down in this cheap-ass plastic folding chair, take off this dumb cap, and while he was at it, ditch the girly dress and just rock his hand-tailored suit.

It was fucking infuriating that Mark Evans, the Johnny-come-lately from Arizona, was up there giving the valedictorian speech, and that he'd even made them put Henry up there too, just to look pretty. Henry, who Jason vividly remembered as the short-tempered, unfriendly boy nobody else in class liked. All the way to the start of middle school, Henry had no friends and took to nobody, and he had seemed to like it that way. "Creepy Henry" went away in a big hurry once Mark had shown up, and it still confused Jason that any single person had been able to change so much about Henry, so fast. He'd caught up to Jason in terms of physical strength and popularity alarmingly fast, and then surpassed him, and to keep his former status as much as possible, Jason had been forced to go with the flow and acknowledge he wasn't number one anymore.

How the fuck had Mark done it? What the hell kind of advice had he given Henry, and how had the two of them just taken over everything so goddamned quick?

This whole thing was so wrong. It was all wrong! Jason knew it should've been him standing up there, the undisputed king of his high school class, the boss of the whole show. That his grades had never been good enough for him to become valedictorian never really registered with Jason; he equated being socially number one with being officially number one.

Chris, when he turned up- if he turned up- would need some coaching this summer and this fall, to get him to forget Henry and Mark and start looking up only to Jason and Anthony. Jason was pleased he'd managed to get Chris to admire him so much, because it felt like this was a small taste of what he would've known all the time had Mark never shown up and teamed up with Henry to take it all away from him. Jason knew he was better. The victories the football and hockey teams had known these past few years were nothing compared to what Jason could've led them to. The parties so many of the popular kids had enjoyed- Jason would've thrown bigger and better ones.

Everyone had missed out. So the fuck what if Mark and Henry were a little stronger, and as much as Jason hated to admit it, better endowed below the waist? It should've been me up there, Jason thought. It fucking should have been me.

His disdain for Mark and his lousy speech would have been more obvious, but Mom and Dad had made it clear they expected their second son to behave himself and sit upright and be respectful during graduation. Plus, Aaron was sitting with them, and Jason knew that prissy jerk would damn well be sitting up straight. Still, the urge to just stand up and flip Mark a couple of birds as he talked like he was the fucking Pope or something was almost impossible to resist. God, he hated Mark and Henry. Big, stupid, egotistical jerks, the both of them. He hated them for stealing the fame and popularity that had been meant for Jason, and for making him the beta, never the alpha.

Jason was going to go up to that Korean macho idiot Jackson Lee after the ceremony ended, thank him, and shake his hand. Then he was going to walk away. He still couldn't be friends with Jackson, and the year was over anyway. But he could thank Jackson. The other boy would figure out what for. Punching Henry Evans in the face was the greatest thing he could've done for Jason, and he'd gotten Mark too, during the fight.

There were times when Jason wondered, though, if his hate for Henry and Mark, his jealousy, wasn't also mixed with admiration. Jason had been out there in the stands with the entire varsity and junior varsity football and hockey teams. He had bellowed out the team chants and war cries alongside everyone else, and when Andrew Cadiz made that bullshit speech and the Evans brothers came onto the field to greet their teams and turn over command to Brian D'Aramitz and Andrew Cadiz, Jason had shouted and yelled right alongside the rest of them. Where they stood was where he wanted to stand. They had done everything Jason wanted to do, and they were easily the strongest and most brilliant guys he'd ever met. Henry and Mark, those vain, magnificent bastards, those assholes Jason alternately hated and admired.

Jason glanced over at the empty seat towards the end of this row. "CHRIS MARSHALL" it said, but the red-haired boy wasn't there. Two weeks ago to the day he had joined the guys for another workout at the YMCA and left in his Camaro, never to be seen again. Chris had amazed everybody with how quickly he had become popular, and how well he had done at so many things. Now he was gone and no one understood it. Even Henry and Mark were confused and worried. Where was he? Jason had called his phone this morning and the voicemail was full, probably due to a flood of messages left by concerned friends and by his girl Nicole.

It was interesting how despite his constant verbal abuse of Chris, his insistence that he actually hated Chris and couldn't stand having him around, the redhead had never wavered in the belief that Jason actually liked him and saw him as a friend. But then Anthony Summers, Jason's oldest and closest friend, was the same way. Jason was always giving Anthony a hard time, but it never seemed to stick. Afraid of damaging his macho rep, Jason pretty much never admitted to liking anyone, and the more he liked and trusted someone, the more he claimed the opposite. The guys understood how Jason worked and were often like that themselves. But Anthony and Chris, by far Jason's best friends, had reacted to his bluster and insults the exact same way.

As disinterested as he was in the speech, Jason couldn't help but sit up straighter and pay close attention when he heard Mark mention Chris. Jason got some dust in his eye as Mark talked about that magnificent son of a bitch, though, so he had to look away and blink furiously, able only to listen as Mark talked about Jason's missing friend. The eloquence with which Mark gave respect to Chris for his accomplishments, his energy and determination, impressed Jason, and he was glad that Mark, that arrogant ass, had at least been decent enough to include Chris in his remarks, recognizing Chris Marshall for the great man he was. Surprised and impressed by Mark's inclusion of Chris in his remarks, Jason looked at Mark and Henry Evans again, and in spite of everything wondered if he didn't admire them after all.

XX

Anthony Summers, the handsome, cheerful and highly emotional playboy of the Class of 1999, sat respectfully throughout the speeches given by Principal Decauter, the Governor of Maine, Class President Taylor Bedford, and by valedictorian Mark Evans. His mother had raised him to listen when people talked, and Anthony wanted to set a good example for his little sisters, who were sitting in the bleachers along with his parents and a bunch of relatives. Some of Mom's relatives didn't really speak English, having come over from Italy to see their beloved relative graduate, so Anthony had been speaking a lot of Italian lately.

In particular he'd been having to do this with his Great Uncle Ferrucio, who was a retired Aeronautica Militare generale di brigata aerea, an Italian Air Force brigadier general, who shared Anthony's irrepressible sense of humor and had pretended to not know a word of English from the moment he got off the plane at the airport, making Anthony translate for everything. The big man had laughed tremendously when Anthony finally remembered his great uncle could actually speak English just fine, but after that, the two conspired to confuse Dad's American relatives and various officials here at school. They'd had fun yesterday and all this morning.

The hardest thing was wearing that cross around his neck and pretending in front of a wide range of family members, some of whom were pretty stern, that he was a good Catholic boy who hadn't spent about half of high school banging beautiful girls. Anthony'd had sex with more than a dozen girls and he was only eighteen, but when the relatives came to visit- certain relatives, anyway, especially on Mom's very Catholic side of the family- Anthony was a total choir boy who'd never done anything the Church hadn't approved. Anthony didn't like deceiving his family, but he had little choice. He was so romantic, so eager to show pretty girls a good time… how could he tell them no? He was muscular and handsome, and their heads turned his way when he walked. The Church told Anthony he wasn't supposed to give in to his teenage lusts and urges, but from the moment Anthony had first had sex, he'd been unable to say no to that part of his life.

So through the week he went to school, going out on dates here and there. Come Friday and Saturday things heated up, and it was a good time for having some drinks and getting laid. And then on Sunday the priest would give a sermon about righteous living, about purity, about how there was no gray area between right and wrong. Every Mass he went to, Anthony would struggle with guilt over the wrongs he was committing in the eyes of the Church. He had been to Confession more than once for a number of sins. And while he was sincere and remorseful every time and vowed to repent and change his ways, the second a girl caught his eye, Anthony did all the same things he usually did. He wanted to change his ways but didn't have the strength. He felt guilty about that, too.

He had even taught Chris his own brand of Catholicism, actually attending Mass and being devoutly religious, but also rocking the cross as a status symbol and a means to make himself look deeper, more intelligent and serious. It was wrong to use religion for social reasons, to look good and get girls more into you, but Anthony not only did it, he had taught and encouraged Chris to do the same. What was wrong with him, Anthony didn't know. He was a deeply religious boy and had been raised right, yet he was the senior class playboy, and he'd probably slept with about as many girls as Mark and Henry. Anthony just was this way. He could only hope God had made him this way on purpose, that there was some reason for it. Maybe he'd mend his ways someday, but not this summer, and not in four years of college. No way.

But maybe later. Yes, later. There were girls to chase right now.

Mark Evans gave what Anthony thought was the best speech of the bunch, and the dark-haired boy admired not only the "carpe diem" theme to it, but the honest and sincere mention of Chris Marshall. Chris still had not turned up and a lot of people were worried about him. Anthony sure was. He, Jason, and Anthony had all made such big plans for the summer, for this fall! Chris would've never, ever missed out on all that! Yet he was still missing, with no sign of turning up. It was strange and Anthony was actually pretty upset about it.

It was good that Mark made mention of Chris at such a time, when so many people were wondering where he was and if he was all right. Mark didn't have to talk about Chris, but he'd decided to anyway, and it meant a lot. Anthony was proud to have been part of the Evans brothers' inner circle these past four years. It had been an honor to hang out with such a pair of brilliant, physically powerful guys, especially since picking up the girls they dumped and showing them life and love could be good to them again had been so successful a tactic for Anthony. There was hardly a girl Henry or Mark had dated who Anthony hadn't dated right afterwards. He'd just started feeling sorry for some of those girls, and had started to console them, help them see it'd be okay. Well, his methods for doing that tended to lead to sex, and eventually Anthony would do something stupid or get caught with another girl- because, well, he just couldn't say no.

The speech, the speech. Focus, dude.

Anthony made himself pay attention again, and just then Mark was wrapping up and everybody started to applaud. Anthony was glad he'd come to the big rally at the football field on Friday, and gotten literally the entire football and hockey team to sign his yearbook. Jason wrote "Fuck you. You're my best friend. Don't ever change, you magnificent bastard," and Anthony had written "You are my best friend. I love you. May fortune always find you," which made Jason mime the act of throwing up once Anthony translated. Mark and Henry had signed their own remarks, calling Anthony one of their best players, and one of their closest friends.

As honored as that made him feel, as enthusiastically as Anthony stood and clapped with the others around him as Mark concluded his speech, Anthony still felt most honored to have known Jason and Chris. They were amazing guys. He was also honored to have known all those beautiful girls, some of whom wouldn't talk to him anymore or were kind of mad at him still or had blocked his number just a little bit. With Chris missing, Jason was the one getting Anthony's big graduation prank, which he would find out about when the traditional tossing of hats in the air occurred. Through careful work and planning, Anthony had hidden a remarkable quantity of sand in Jason's cap. When he took it off and threw it up, he and everyone around him would get showered in sand. But mostly Jason. Anthony could not help messing with people he liked, and he liked Jason a lot. It was too bad Chris wasn't here. They could've gotten Jason really good.

Anthony looked forward to the start of summer and to heading down to Alabama in the fall. It was a good life, full of fun and adventure and workouts and pretty girls. He'd had a hell of a lot of fun so far, and he owed Henry and Mark for a lot of it. Having enjoyed himself so much already, Anthony could not wait to find out what else life had in store for him. Whatever it was, Anthony was going to enjoy himself and make the very best of it. That was the only thing he even knew how to do.

XX

Julie Michaels watched in admiration as Mark Evans, tall, handsome, drop-dead sexy and incredibly brilliant Mark Evans, got up and made a speech of optimism, hope, seizing the day and always aiming high. It was memorized, made without a single note. And of course Mark stopped to thank his brother, crediting all of his own success to Henry's aid and friendship, something Julie knew Mark would have done had their places been reversed.

They almost had been. The difference between Mark's GPA and Henry's was insanely small, the smallest there had ever been, Julie had been told, at Chamberlain or in a Maine public high school. In the end Mark had been chosen as valedictorian, but he had refused to accept it unless Henry got to sit beside him on the stage. As always, Mark was thinking of someone else before he thought of himself.

Baby Alexander was with her, cradled in her arms, healthier and heavier than when he'd been born. Thankfully he didn't bear an especially obvious resemblance to his dad yet, although he already shared Mark's wavy auburn brown hair. Julie still treasured the night she and Mark had made Alex. It had been the greatest night of her life. Mark had forgotten to feed Julie the birth control pills like usual, and she'd gotten pregnant, but Julie knew by now that it had been meant to happen. The baby was a sign of her and Mark's love, proof they were meant to be together. How was it that Mark had chosen her? Why had he picked Julie to father his first child with?

It was easy to see why she'd fallen in love with Mark. He was the perfect guy. Intelligent, romantic, caring, mature and always thinking about you. He was absolutely stunning in his underwear, and in bed he made you feel like only now were you truly living. When Julie had finally given in to the inevitable and let Mark come home and go upstairs to bed with her, it had been a relief. She gave up arguing, resisting, and from then on did not care that it was against all the rules and could end her career if it got out. She had taught Mark during the day, and at night she had sex with him. Mark's insatiable sex drive had given Julie the most active bedroom life she'd ever known, and she had loved every second of it. Mark was perfect. There wasn't a thing about him Julie didn't love. The iconic alpha male, he had chosen Julie as his mate.

Every word Mark said in his speech had Julie entranced, and she admired and lusted after him freely, safe in the knowledge that with her and Mark being careful in the right ways, no one would ever know until it was time. Julie was amazed at how skilled Mark was in so many ways. He made love like an animal, played sports like the champion he was, completed tests and assignments like a genius, and made speeches like a great statesman. Mark could sit calmly and professionally in Julie's chemistry class after lunch and be fucking her passionately by five in the afternoon. He was already a great father, and had showered Julie and Alex with love and support. The miraculous recovery of their prematurely born son was nothing less than inevitable in retrospect. Alex, the first child of Mark Evans, had been meant to live and succeed. And with the father he had looking out for him, Julie knew he would. That the baby had been so quiet and respectful during the ceremony amazed her; Julie had been sure she'd have to take him outside and calm him down a time or two. Instead, Alex was calm. He dozed off a time or two, but the rest of the time he was looking around, seeming interested in what was going on.

Mark Evans had changed Julie's life. There was no other way of putting it. He was the most amazing man she'd ever met, in every way possible. Julie was proud she'd been the one he'd had his first child with, because that was something truly special. Mark was going to meet her parents one day, once enough time had passed that they could officially be together, and Julie knew Mom and Dad would love him. And why not? Mark was an amazing, caring, wonderful guy. Julie was the one he loved, the woman he wanted to be with, but she was far from the only one who loved and adored Mark. Everyone did. And his brother, who had kept his brother's secret from the beginning of Mark's infatuation with Julie, was no less amazing and perfect. The future was out there just waiting for Henry and Mark to step forward, and whatever they did, Julie knew it would be something amazing. Limitless opportunity awaited Mark and his brother, and Julie was glad she would have such a close-up chance to be there to see it.

XX

Susan Evans was unable to keep her eyes dry as she watched her boys up there on that stage. Her Henry, her beloved, darling Henry, so upright and confident, so strong and noble. He had come so far and done so much. There was nothing he couldn't do. The world was his oyster. And yet when Mark beat him to valedictorian, Henry had simply congratulated his brother, showing he was not only supremely capable and confident, he was also modest and caring. Susan remembered the hard days of the early 1990s, when they'd lost Richard, then Janice, then Jack, and then almost Mark. Henry, who had struggled so much to make friends all through elementary school, who had been so standoffish and territorial, had suddenly opened up and welcomed Mark into his life that day that Jack had brought Mark by for a visit. Henry, who, as much as Susan had hated to acknowledge it then, was friendless and unfriendly at school, took to Mark instantly. The initial friction between him and his cousin soon disappeared completely, and as the boys resolved their differences they became the very best of friends. Henry warmed up and became more outgoing, and Mark acquired an almost exact copy of Henry's absolute self-assurance and confidence.

The loss of Richard was so long ago, and while it pained her still, Susan felt glad in more ways than she could say that her first child, her oldest boy, her one and only Henry, had found such happiness and experienced such success. Henry had struggled socially at first, and Susan remembered she'd even once had these silly doubts and suspicions about him. In her grief, she had started to wonder if Henry had lied to her, if he hadn't been telling the truth when he'd said he was downstairs playing when Richard had drowned.

It was an irrational thought, but an understandable one. Susan had been in pain, and she had searched for a culprit, someone to blame for it and condemn. Henry had simply stayed the course and trusted that his mother would eventually come around, and in time Susan had. She knew Henry hadn't killed Richard. He was far too kind. And Mark, adopted into her home as her son after Jack's tragic death in the house fire in 1994, had helped her get over losing Richard. Mark had brought his own kindness and energy into Susan's life, and in learning to love him as her own son, Susan had learned to forgive herself for losing Richard.

The boys had hit the ground running in high school and succeeded magnificently. Susan missed the early days of their friendship, when they had been just a pair of skinny, energetic twelve year old boys. Things had been so much simpler then, and they'd grown up into these teenage titans so fast. But Susan knew they wouldn't be staying children forever. She was excited for them, excited and proud, and she and Wallace both could not wait to see what happened next in their lives. With their limitless drive and energy, Henry and Mark had only success waiting for them in college and beyond.

Mark had experienced such pain as a child, such loss, and here he was, valedictorian of his high school class. Tall, confident, and strong, a model student and athlete, hero and leader to his peers. Mark had lost so much and yet he'd gained so much. He'd known such pain, and yet he'd brought such joy into the lives of so many people. Susan was proud of Henry, proud of Mark, and incredibly proud and happy that she was their mother.

XX

Connie Evans sat slouched in her seat while her big jerk of a brother talked, glowering at him in silent protest. Mom tried to get her to sit up, but Connie would just do it for a few minutes and then slouch and glower again, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't like Mark or Henry. Mom and Dad couldn't make her like them. That was just how it was and all Connie could say was, her parents needed to get used to it, because unless her brothers changed, the situation wouldn't either.

She'd had a great year at Chatham Hall and had absolutely clamored to go back. This, in spite of her newfound celebrity status after her roommate, and then the school, finally connected her name with the big-shot athletes from up in New England. Henry and Mark were famous in high schools and middle schools all over America, so Connie supposed she had been kidding herself when she'd initially thought that she could escape her last name being noticed. It wasn't all bad. Everybody was really nice to her. All the older girls were kind and generous- and kept asking if Henry and Mark were coming to visit. Chatham Hall was an amazing school, and Connie loved it. She was finally able to be her own person, even if her brothers' reputation had finally caught up with her, and she could succeed and achieve without them constantly looming over her.

But back here at home- this was Henry and Mark's show. Their egos just bowled over everything. Connie was tired of their big heads and big muscles and how they basically thought they were just the coolest thing ever. It was even more annoying that an awful lot of people seemed to agree. That was actually the worst part of it, and it fueled Henry and Mark's big dumb ego even more.

Henry had been a little nicer to her in the last five or six years. He'd gone from routinely harassing and tormenting her to just teasing her. Well, that and always doing all these things that everybody thought such a big deal, so that nothing Connie did was ever very interesting to most people. So he no longer pulled her hair or twisted her ears or pushed her. Connie still didn't like him, though. Henry had always thought he was better than everyone and still did. You could just tell that about him. Hopefully, from here on out, he would go off to that Naval Academy and be busy doing Navy things and Connie could have Mom and Dad to herself more often when she was home.

At least Henry, she'd never gotten much kindness from him. He pretended to be nice to her now, because Mark got him to, probably because they both realized it would look good in front of Mom and Dad. But Mark- he was the one Connie didn't quite understand. When he had first come to visit back in 1993, Mark had been… different… from what he was like now, from what he had been like for years. Initially, Mark had been sort-of friendly with Henry, but he'd disagreed with him too, and Connie had sensed instantly that Mark did not approve of Henry's mean treatment of his little sister. Mark had reached out and been kind to her even though Henry obviously didn't want him to, and Connie had been happy to have Mark around.

But about midway through Mark's visit, things had changed. He'd come home after being out with Henry one day and Mom and Dad had yelled at him and Henry for being out too late. The next morning, Mark hadn't come to play with her like he'd promised to, and claimed not to even remember making that promise when Connie asked. He had been less interested in doing what Connie wanted, and way more interested in doing what Henry wanted. Connie stopped sensing disagreement and distrust from Mark towards Henry, and instead saw total unity and agreement. Mark did what Henry did, and thought what Henry thought. He got snappy and impatient with Connie in the exact same way Henry did- like that day when Uncle Jack had come to pick him up.

And when Uncle Jack died and Mark came to live in Maine for good, he had drifted away from Connie permanently. Whatever interest he'd had in being a friend to Connie disappeared, and Mark was always busy, always had better things to do. Yet he always- always- had time for Henry. He hadn't even liked Henry at first! Yet Henry had sure liked him. And after a while, Mark liked Henry right back. What was up with that, anyway? Why had Mark gone from being nice to grumpy, from friendly to mean? He originally was nice and friendly and exciting to be around, way better than that boring Henry. But for years now he'd been Henry's best friend, his original differences with Henry long forgotten. Connie kind of wished the old Mark would come back and show Henry what was what. But that wasn't happening and Connie knew that. She missed old Mark. But maybe Mark had just decided he had more to gain out of befriending Henry, the boy his own age, than from befriending the kid sister.

Once Mark had started letting Henry put ideas in his head, that had been the end of it. He'd managed to warm Henry up a bit; Connie knew that. But Henry had changed Mark more than Mark had changed him. Being friends with Henry had made Mark a big jerk who thought he was just way too cool. Connie wanted to throw a tomato at him while he talked up on that stage like he was some kind of a big deal. Did she have a tomato? No, Mom had found the one she'd brought and figured out she wanted to chuck it at Mark and Henry. Okay, no problem. Maybe somebody else had a tomato.

But unless they had one that would change Mark back and make him nice again, it would only do so much good. Connie knew it was silly, but years ago, after Mark's first visit, she had reflected on Mark's sudden change of personality and behavior and thought that Henry had done some kind of magic and turned Mark into a different person. She'd had this idea that Henry had somehow done something evil, and that the Mark she first met was replaced by the one she'd known ever since. It was creepy, and honestly, it was silly and unrealistic. Henry couldn't do magic.

Why couldn't he and Mark be nicer, anyway? They acted nice, and Mom and Dad and everybody thought they were nice. But they were big dumb macho jerks and Connie wanted to throw a tomato at them. Ooh, Mom had a whole bunch in the fridge. She could probably hide one or two and put them on Mark and Henry's chairs at dinner sometime. Yeah. Connie plotted her revenge against her big dumb jerk brothers, and the idea cheered her up enough that she even sat up some and acted all polite and clapped when Mark finished his speech. He wanted to be best buddies with Henry, huh? That was fine. Mom said that speech of his was really nice and it was about carp and DM, whatever DM was.

Maybe it was a kind of fish, because carp were fish. Or maybe DM went with fish when you served it. Well, Mark had more tomatoes and less fish in his future, Connie thought. She'd get him and Henry good, and she'd wait till they were wearing some nice light-colored shorts or pants, too. Ha ha. Connie knew some of Henry's old tricks, the ones he'd used on her when he was twelve. She'd get him and Mark this summer, and they'd never know it was her. Or they'd never be able to prove it, and that was just as good. Maybe even better.

XX

Lisa Doyle watched and listened as Mark Evans, brother to her beloved Henry, made that nice speech as valedictorian of the senior class. Lisa had stood little chance of being in his place- for one thing, Henry would never have stood for it. He didn't believe girls were supposed to ever beat boys at anything. For another, Lisa's grades were just okay, never as spectacular as Mark's and Henry's had always been.

Her looks had been best of the best for years, though, and the relentless interest and attention that boys gave her in middle school eventually drove Lisa to give in when one of them tried to lose his virginity one afternoon at her house. Lisa hadn't really been ready, but the boy had been charming and persuasive, and even though it had hurt a little Lisa had enjoyed it. The boy had been so impressed with Lisa's looks once he got to enjoy them in full that he'd told everyone what a great lover she was, and that only made them want her more. Lisa's beauty had let her pick and choose only the best, turning down and rejecting anyone she didn't want for so much as a date. Jason, Mason, Anthony, Matt, Paul- she'd slept with some of the hottest and most popular boys in her grade. But ever since that day in gym class, Lisa had wanted only Henry, and everyone else felt like a substitute.

Well, she'd finally gotten him. He'd been everything she'd ever dreamed, and doing everything she could to please him made Henry willing to date her all year, something he had almost never done before. For all his flaws, she had been treated very well. Henry loved her and he cared, and when he messed up and got Lisa pregnant, he promised to be with her the whole time. Lisa trusted Henry. She loved him. And she wanted him so bad it almost hurt. No matter how many times she and Henry made love, she always wanted more once it was over. No one could resist Henry's advances, and once you'd had him, you needed him again and wouldn't ever be satisfied with anyone else. The problem wasn't that Henry had gotten her pregnant; it was that it had happened too soon.

They'd have to give this baby up for adoption, but hopefully they could come and get him later. Or… maybe they wouldn't be doing that. Maybe their second would have to be the first one they raised. Lisa didn't like that but what could they do? She wasn't ready to be a mom. Henry wasn't ready to be a dad. This had just happened way too soon and there was no choice but to hand the child over for adoption. Lisa was glad she looked so prim and proper and beautiful in her graduation gown, and that no one but Jessica, Henry, Mark, and Henry and Mark's and her own parents knew. She looked like the queen of this school that she was, and nobody would get the pleasure of being able to say "The bitch finally got herself pregnant". Lisa knew she had a hard time ahead of her. She knew enduring a nine month pregnancy would not be easy. But she had Henry, and he had pledged to be with her always. That meant love, marriage, a home and kids they could keep and raise. Lisa's childhood hero and sex idol had become her lover and future husband. Mark, her future brother-in-law.

Lisa was scared about the future, but she knew that with Henry she could handle anything. Everything would be all right. She knew it.

XX

As Principal Decauter declared the Class of 1999 officially graduated, the several hundred teenagers dressed in graduation gowns stood up, threw their hats and cheered. Jason Morgan dumped sand over his head for some reason when he threw his cap up, and immediately- for some reason- went after Anthony Summers, who was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight. The newly-graduated football and hockey players crowded around Henry and Mark to say goodbye, and all around the gym friends and teammates wished each other the best, some of them realizing for the first time that this was really happening, that they would not all be back together again for the summer.

Some younger students in the bleachers had come to see their heroes graduate; Henry and Mark had dozens of followers who had come to commencement for just that reason. Others were there to watch the worst bullies they had ever known finally leave, not fully realizing that they had left successors and that the bullying would continue at Chamberlain next year. But there would be resistance to it, and more than there might have been were it not for the school's soccer team.

Chad Davis, who had received so brutal a punishment for so innocent a mistake, sprang away as Mark mockingly approached him to shake his hand. John LaFleur got in between them as Mark tried to follow, and as Mark stared at him with obvious hatred, John grinned and shot Mark Evans the bird. He then found Chad, led him over to Jackson and Scott and some of the other soccer guys, and told him Chad should know he wasn't alone. While John was explaining this, the pair of poverty-stricken freshman boys, Eric and Trevor, came speeding across the crowded gymnasium floor, dodging between graduates and family members. They each ran up and hugged a thoroughly stunned Jackson, then John, then Scott, then ran off again, having agreed to do this beforehand so they wouldn't start crying. Jackson shouted after them that there was a soccer game planned at the local park on Sunday. Eric shouted back "We'll be there".

Andrew Cadiz and Brian D'Aramitz, their moment come at last, solemnly shook hands. Close by, Carter Stevens and Michael Cadiz shook hands too, and when the Evans brothers came their way, called out to them. Henry and Mark looked up at the four boys who had shown more loyalty to them than anyone else among their many followers, and when the four disciples stood and saluted them, Henry and Mark returned the salutes with the precision of the Marine officers they would later become.

Graduates paired up with friends and families, heading off for celebratory dinners and vacations, high with the thrill of success, of having made it at last. Henry and Mark Evans, the absolute center of it all, grinned and shared a hug, pleased and thrilled that they had done so well.

XX

It was January 21st, 2000, about 10:30 in the morning. Lisa let out a scream as she felt another contraction, and wondered yet again when this would be over. If it would ever be over.

She was in a hospital gown, naked underneath, belly swollen enormously after nine and a half months of carrying a growing child. Prom night's mistake had come home to show her what hell was really like. Lisa had made it through nine goddamn months of being pregnant, and now she was drenched in sweat and awash in pain, struggling to give birth in this hospital delivery room.

The head of the baby was trying to get out. Lisa could feel it. Her vagina had been made for a penis, not a goddamn baby, but here she was trying to force one out anyway. She screamed as her body made another push to get him out. It felt like she was trying to give birth to a chainsaw. A chainsaw running at top speed.

It got worse, and Lisa threw back her head and yelled until her throat was raw. She screamed and cried, tears filling her vision. She couldn't stand this. She wanted it to be over. She wanted the fucking baby out of her, but it wasn't going. It wouldn't come out. She was pushing, the doctor kept telling her to push, the creep looking under the gown, between her spread legs- he kept telling her to push, assuring Lisa it was almost out.

Why did it feel like it was ripping her in half, then?

Why did this have to happen to Lisa? Why now and not nine months after Henry graduated from Annapolis?

Another wave of agony hit her, and Lisa screamed again. She was shaking, coated in sweat, rivers of sweat and tears running off her. Giving birth to this child was excruciating. It was agony, and time stretched out, making the misery seem to last so much longer than it really did. Every second felt like ten years. Every moment was filled with torture, with excruciating, raw agony. Lisa had never known such pain.

Beside her, Henry held her right hand, seated beside her. He'd gotten her pregnant, but unlike most of the boys who had screwed her over the years, he had stayed with her the whole time. He had called and written after he'd left for the Naval Academy, had sex with her whenever he was back. Even once her belly had grown too big for her to really do anything in bed, Henry continued making love to her, saying Lisa was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Just as he'd promised, Henry had never left her. Now he and his brother were here in the delivery room, and Henry spoke soothingly to her as the pain washed through Lisa.

"You can do it, Liz. Push. He's coming out, just keep trying."

"But it hurrrts!" Lisa cried, yelling and screaming as she fought again to get the fucking baby out. Being split in half was probably less painful. She could feel the infant moving inside her, could feel it shifting, but God, it wasn't out! "It hurts, Henry!" Lisa cried, sobbing. When she'd gone into labor at home, her first call had been to Henry. She'd done that before she'd even cried out for her parents.

Henry had not abandoned her. When it looked like the birth was near, he'd come home and waited. Now he held her hand tight, looking intently at her with his cool blue eyes.

"Lisa, just push him out. Stay calm and push. I'm right here. I'm right here with you. You can do this, Liz. Do it, babe. I know you can. I love you."

The pain ripped into her just then, and Lisa cried and screamed and sobbed and pushed with all her might, willing her body to get the baby out, to get him out safe. As he worked his way out, the baby, determined by ultrasound to be a boy, was causing Lisa the greatest pain she had ever known in her life. This was agony. It felt like the baby was actually trying to hurt her. The doctors had been worried- this was a heavy baby from the looks of things, they said, heavier than the average. That meant a potentially harder birth. And Lisa could agree with that. Oh, yes she could. This birth was turning out to be pretty fucking difficult. God, was the baby trying to kill her? She was its mother, yet Lisa felt sure of it- he was forcing his way out! He was hurting her!

Lisa screamed as white-hot agony tore into her, again and again. She yelled even as it hurt her to yell, her throat unready for this abuse. But still the pain worsened, and Lisa's screams continued. It got worse, and worse, and worse, and as Lisa lay there on her back, straining to give birth for the first time in her life, she wished for anything to make the pain stop. She wished for Henry to save her, and begged him aloud to do so. Silently, she begged for God, for mercy, for death. For anyone to please come and save her.

"Henry," she sobbed, turning to him in tears. "Henry, please make it stop, Henry. Help me, please help me."

Henry's hand stayed clasped on hers, and he tightened his grip as Lisa screamed louder and longer. "Hang on, Lisa," Henry said, his voice calm and soothing. "Just be strong, be strong. You can do this. I love you, Lisa. You're gonna be okay."

The doctor called encouragement to her, said she was almost there, and Lisa screamed, wishing she'd never, ever had sex in the first place, wishing she'd never met Henry Evans, wishing she hadn't been born.

Kill me, please, God, kill me, just killmeohGodmakeitstopmakeitstopHELPGODMAKEITSTOP-

Then, suddenly, it was over. The child Henry Evans had put inside her nine months ago slipped out of Lisa and into the hospital operating room, and the excruciating pain began to subside. Unable to help it, Lisa urinated and shit herself, a final humiliation after everything she'd suffered for the past year. Lisa broke down and cried, the sobs shaking her body. The hospital people assured the terrified, exhausted girl she was okay, she'd made it. Henry, oddly, didn't say anything. He'd turned his head away from Lisa and was looking at the infant that had just come out of her.

Then the infant began bawling at the top of its lungs as the masked doctor raised it up. "It's a boy!" he said.

Lisa couldn't have cared less what it was. It had just about killed her.

They cut the umbilical cord, and one masked attendant started cleaning up the mess that had come out along with the infant. The doctor went to hand the baby to Lisa, who reached for it with weak, trembling arms. Her son. That was her son. Even if she had to give him up for adoption, Lisa, through the haze of exhaustion and pain, wanted to meet the first baby she'd ever had, the first child Henry Evans had ever fathered. It was a healthy, sturdy-looking infant, definitely a pound heavier than usual, at least. Lisa wanted to meet her baby. But Henry intercepted the doctor, saying something about how Lisa wasn't strong enough, she was too tired. The bloody, slime-covered infant was deftly taken away as it was about to be given to its mother. The doctor was too surprised to object, so Henry Evans held the infant instead, smiling to him, talking to him, not even looking at Lisa once. "That's my boy," she heard him say proudly. "That's my boy."

They started cleaning her up, wiping gently away the rivers of sweat, cleaning up the pooled blood, shit and piss between her legs. They got rid of the "placenta", whatever the hell that was, and the umbilical cord. Lisa would have thrown up if she had the strength. She felt so violated and embarrassed, in this room with nothing but this thin gown on, her legs propped up, random hospital people cleaning up the mess she'd made and wiping even between her legs, where only boys (and the occasional creep doctor) had been allowed to go. Lisa wanted to tell them to get away from her, to not touch her. She couldn't. She was too exhausted, too weak.

Her right hand hurt. Bad. It didn't seem to be responding correctly. Eventually, Lisa would learn the pressure exerted as Henry watched her give birth had been enough that Henry had nearly broken her hand. It would be swollen and useless for several days. Henry did not give the baby to Lisa. He didn't bring him to his mother. He kept him from her. Lisa wanted to protest, wanted to say, He's my baby, too, let me hold him. Let him meet his mother before we give him up. Please. I just suffered to bring him into the world, let me at least tell him I love him.

But Henry didn't even turn her way. He soothed and cooed the baby, rocking him as he cried in his father's arms. Lisa raised her head briefly, made a few weak sounds in an effort to plead to be given her son, then collapsed, lacking the strength to actually protest or argue. It was over. At least she hadn't died. Wiped out completely by the most painful and exhausting experience of her life, Lisa Doyle lay there, not even having the strength to move. She watched as Henry and his brother Mark, so happy they were moved to tears, greet Richard, welcoming him to the world. Lisa distantly felt confused. She'd just struggled to give birth to that child, suffering unendurable pain in the process, and now the brothers were ignoring her, like she didn't matter at all. They didn't even seem to notice the hospital staff. They had eyes only for Richard.

In the most depressing moment she'd known in nine depressing months, Lisa realized that maybe Richard was the only one they'd cared about all along.

XX

Henry had blood and slime all over him once he was done holding Richard- and he had left no doubt that was to be the boy's name- but he didn't care. As an exhausted, weakened Lisa was wheeled out and Richard was taken to an incubator, Henry just stood there, so happy he could barely think. Mark, in the end, had to guide him outside.

Mom and Dad were in a hospital waiting room, along with Lisa's parents. The news would be brought to them soon. Henry didn't care. Those people didn't matter. What did was that his whole plan, the latest and greatest of his many schemes, had succeeded as well as he'd dared hope. Mark's accidental impregnating of Julie had been turned into a benefit, and Henry had decided to do the same thing with Lisa. She had suffered and whined and generally been very boring for the past nine months, but Henry, already in his second semester at Annapolis, had focused only on the end goal. He had kept Lisa calm and showered her with money and attention. He and Mark had already planned to get Julie to adopt Richard. She would serve them well, taking care of their children like a loyal nanny.

Lisa had shit and pissed herself as she'd finally gotten Richard out, so the placenta had mixed in nicely with that and the blood. Holy shit, it was nasty. Lisa had found her first birth extremely painful; there was no doubt about that. Henry's heart had sung with joy as he listened to her agonized screams. Richard, born two pounds heavier than a normal baby and exceptionally healthy, had seemed to be causing deliberate harm to his mother on his way into the world. Henry had been so proud of him. Already, he was madly in love with his son. The misery and fear and pain Lisa had experienced had been wonderful to watch and hear. Henry had hoped time and again that it would really fucking hurt when Lisa gave birth, and he'd gotten what he wanted. She'd served her purpose. Henry no longer needed her. Sooner or later he'd just dump her, and if she wasn't willing to be dumped… eventually Henry would kill her. He could not have her embarrass him and commit suicide in romantic despair as she would almost certainly do otherwise.

Mark put an arm around Henry's broad, muscular shoulders and handed his brother a cigar. "Congratulations, Daddy."

"Thanks," Henry said. He shared a grin with his brother, who like him wore his hair even shorter than Naval Academy regulations required. They were already model cadets, ranked high in their class. Annoyingly, Jackson Lee ranked higher academically, but that would change soon enough.

"Well, we did it," Mark said. He was practically quivering with excitement.

"Yes, we did," Henry said. He kept his voice even, knowing if he even moved too suddenly, he'd start shouting and yelling and beating his chest.

"Henry, I never thought I'd love anyone as much as I love you," Mark said. "But… these boys of ours… I'd die for them. I'm crazy about 'em. I never thought I'd be so nuts about a couple of nudists with link sausages for legs, but-" Mark laughed. "Yeah. This is just too cool."

"It's all going our way, Mark," Henry said quietly, keeping his voice down so others wouldn't hear. "It's all happening like we want. I couldn't have come this far without your help."

"Course," Mark said. "I'm the one that's gotta think up all the plans."

"I'm the mastermind," Henry replied. "The thinker. You're always getting so emotional, Mark."

"It's because I've got such a great sibling," Mark said, "I'm just so ready to go kick someone's ass for him or his kid."

Henry reached up and ruffled Mark's stubby auburn hair. "That's why you're my brother."

"I love you, Henry," Mark said. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"You still think you owe me something after all this time?"

"Always."

"I love you, Mark," Henry said, and the two embraced fiercely, love for each other and their sons running through their hearts, joy and pride overwhelming them and making them cry helplessly like kids.

They had done it. They'd each brought a son into the world, a son they would raise the way they wished they had been from the beginning. These boys would be superior in every way to everyone. Henry and Mark meant for them to surpass even their own fathers. And one day, when their fathers died to make sure they never grew old, Alexander and Richard would pick up the torch themselves and go on to greatness that would put their fathers to shame. But to ordinary people, even to Julie, they would be just the nicest boys you ever met, the good sons, just like their dads. No one would ever suspect them of the killings, the rapes, the torturing that the boys would do. They would be perfect angels, as their fathers had been. The world would not know who they really were, not until it was time.

And until then, Henry and Mark would live the lives they had wished for. They would triumph at everything they did, be the champions in everything they tried. Success would fall into their hands as easily as it had for seven years now. Henry, who had lusted for power and fame all his life, was delighted in ways he couldn't even express. Mark, who had been soft and weak until Henry and Fleetwood Hall had changed him, could hardly wait to see what happened next.

They weren't ever going to stop. Not until it was time to go. And once it was, the boys would carry on in their place. It was how Henry wanted it, how Mark wanted it. Right now, at this joyous moment, it felt like they had conquered the world. But someday, they knew, their sons just might actually do it.

No thought could have made Henry and Mark more proud.

A/N: 3-6-2017. The Good Sons is completed.

This story was first uploaded on March 16, 2013, and it was never, ever planned to take this long or be written to this length. At least one year total of the time it took to write was not even time used to write it; there were whole months where I simply wrote nothing at all. Not from lack of interest, but from laziness and, despite the brilliant narratives that AM83220 supplied me with, a form of writer's block. But never did I waver in my interest in completing this story. I wanted to see it done and after three years and eleven months, I've finally done it. I thought about waiting and uploading the final chapter on the same day as the story was begun, but it's better to publish the 82nd and final chapter now.

There will probably be edits and revisions of this story. I may edit scenes or cut them entirely, and I know there are proofreading and grammar errors scattered throughout this massive story, which, as I wrote it, I divided up into 14 subsections totaling about 100 pages apiece. With the 81 chapters written prior to this one, the story totaled 658,722 words. It is the longest written work I have ever done. But I will edit this story, not drastically alter it. I plan to keep it as-is as much as possible, and the only changes made will be fully intended as improvements.

A word on AM83220. This author first reached out to me with a VERY enthusiastic review and PM after reading my original fanfiction for the 1993 movie The Good Son, The Second Face. I initially had no plans to write even one sequel to TSF, let alone two. Yet AM83220 convinced me otherwise, arguing persuasively and enthusiastically in favor of continuing the story. I have greatly enjoyed writing TSF, which I got stuck on for a while and almost deleted, TEA, which AM83220 worked with me on every step of the way, and TGS, which AM83220 also cooperated closely with me on.

It would be no exaggeration to say that this is as much AM83220's story as it is mine. This author is intelligent, eloquent, and a superb writer. Without his assistance and support and encouragement, I would never have completed this story, and certainly would not have found the motivation and finally complete it when I did. AM83220 has helped me to proofread, catch grammar and continuity errors, and has unerringly pointed out mistakes I have made if I ever write someone in the story as acting out of character. AM83220 is the original creator of MANY of the featured secondary characters in this story: Jason Morgan, Anthony Summers, Lisa Doyle, Scott Shepard, Paul Hendricks, and Julie Michaels among others were named and their basic details and personalities created by AM83220.

AM83220 also wrote the general course of about 98% of this story, and 100% of the main plot for The Evil Angel. He did this in the form of the "narratives" I have mentioned, our word for when he writes basically a plot summary, saying the highlights of what will happen and describing POVs and people's reactions, that sort of thing. While the downside of this is that it can allow the writer to become lazy and not have to think of the plot of the story themselves, and it takes away most of the suspense for the one writing the narratives, it offers the upside of keeping the story going and reducing the problems posed by writer's block. AM83220 worked hard to supply all of those narratives to me. I cannot say too strongly that this story would not have been started or finished without his help. AM83220 is one of the greatest writers we have on this site. If every author on this site wrote at the level of quality he does, fanfiction would have a much better reputation as a genre. Thank you, AM83220, from the bottom of my digital, metaphorical inkwell.

John LaFleur is one of my favorite characters in this story, apart from our villainous protagonists, Henry and Mark. He is probably the one character who changes the most, who learns and grows up more than any of the others do. Certainly nobody else in Henry and Mark's crowd changes and matures like John does, or even anything close. John's story shows Henry and Mark for what they are: he was the first boy they reached out to and befriended as Mark worked with Henry to erase the antisocial, unfriendly, "Creepy Henry" image that Henry had, in all honesty, earned for himself. For years, John was allowed to almost do as he pleased, so long as he came to practices and games and generally toed the line that Henry and Mark wanted him to. He was their oldest friend, and that made him kind of untouchable, a favored prince to the two kings. Well, the second he displeased them- getting high and coming to a football game thoroughly intoxicated- the brothers turned on him instantly. Henry savagely beat John and threatened to kill him if he ever got on Henry's bad side again, and Mark laughed when John told him what Henry had done. John experienced a lot of misery and pain but he will be better off free of Henry and Mark and their influence and ideas. He would have been a much less unique and remarkable person had he not severed ties with Henry and Mark, even if it had to happen in the hardest way possible. John has a good future ahead of him and will do well at VMI in my opinion, as will his girlfriend Cindy Howell.

John Myron LaFleur is based on two people. First and foremost is John (no last name) from the 2003 film Elephant. That IS John, right there. Personality and appearance are based directly off of him. Second person is Myron LaFleur from the novella The Mist by Stephen King, first published in 1980. Myron is one of the two men who gets all worked up and in favor of sending Norm, the bag boy, out to clear whatever is blocking the exhaust pipe of the store's generator, which ultimately results in Norm's painful death. There is no real personal or behavior connection with this second character, just the name. John is occasionally described as "John the flower", because his French last name means "The Flower" in English, and that description is used for Myron once or twice in The Mist.

I have tried to make all the medical and mechanical information presented in this story as accurate as possible. But I am neither a doctor nor a mechanic, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.

This is probably the longest story I will ever write. I don't expect anything I write from here out will surpass this in length, and honestly, I don't want it too. This story is frankly too long and took too much time to complete. But I am proud to have written it nonetheless.

I used many influences and made some references in this story. I can't list them all here, but I have tried to credit them chapter-by-chapter. That will probably be a goal in some of the edits I make, is to add more author's notes and state when and where references to other works or authors are being made.

In spite of their cold, manipulative, vain, greedy and sadistic personalities, Henry and Mark really do love each other. Henry, a born sociopath, has been emotionally crippled or stunted all his life. He is incapable of feeling sorry, or of caring that his selfish acts are harmful and abusive to many others around him. The difference between him and canon Henry is that this one has a piece of Mark's caring, loving soul merged with his, making him more social and able to overcome the sociopathic personality issues that made him so repulsive to his peers. Bottom line, this altered Henry really does love Mark, whom he literally considers his real brother. He and Mark, you will have noticed, never, ever refer to or think of each other as cousins and would NOT take it will if someone brought that up. Any of their classmates who were in elementary school with Henry will know that the two are not brothers by birth, but do not dare talk to them about it.

Mark and Henry love themselves, each other, and their sons. No one else. They are capable, now, of feeling most human emotions, but they only apply them to the people I mentioned. They would not understand it if you asked them if they felt sorry for bullying a kid in the halls, or for Mark raping Amy, or for Henry psychologically and physically abusing Lisa all through the year, or any number of other things. They understand that other people will think those acts are wrong, but do not comprehend why.

Lisa Doyle is probably one of the most tragic characters in this story. She has idolized and romanticized Henry in her mind, making him into this absolutely perfect Romeo that she just has to have all to herself. Henry becomes aware of this several years prior to dating her, but he deliberately ignores her, making her long for him more and more so that when he finally DOES ask her out, not only will she say yes to that, but she will say yes to pretty much anything else he asks for after. Henry abuses Lisa psychologically extensive throughout this story, forcing her to give up self-esteem, independence, and say-so in their relationship. He constantly presents her with the choice of doing what Henry wants and keeping him, or not doing what he wants and losing him. He teaches her to be afraid of him, and physically abuses her several times either out of anger, or to emphasize that he is in charge and can do what he wants.

Lisa is a nasty and unkind girl, about as vain and arrogant as Henry is. Honestly, it's part of why they are such a good match. But she is still nicer than Henry is and she really does love him. Henry is incapable of loving her back. He can act like he loves someone, but apart from himself, Mark and his and Mark's sons, he cannot actually love them. So Lisa thinks they are in love and that Henry will stay with her long after she gives birth to Richard, but Henry has lied to her. Lisa is too in love with Henry to ever accept him breaking up with her, though, and Henry knows that. It isn't going to end well for her.

Julie Michaels is a nice young woman who genuinely loves Mark, who, just like Henry is toward Lisa, is incapable of loving her back. Mark thinks of Julie and Henry thinks of Mark like most people would a favorite pet. They may like Julie and Lisa, may show them affection and reward them for doing what Mark and Henry want, but they do not love them.

Jackson Lee is one of the OCs that I added into the story and I had fun writing him. He may appear in the sequel I may well write to this story. Jackson was largely inspired by the stories I have read and heard of the Republic of Korea Marine Corps, the naval infantry force of the Republic of Korea (South Korea, ally of the United States of America since the ROK's foundation in the late 1940s). The ROKMC is based closely off the USMC and the two services share a close bond. The Korean War, which saw such legendary moments for the American Marines as the Battle of Chosin Reservoir, was the founding conflict for the ROKMC. Not many people know this, but the ROK Marines were founded on an airfield as the fighting started; a group of assembled men volunteered to be Marines. They fought alongside the U.S. Marines in many battles- South Korean and American Marines were both at the Chosin Reservoir. The ROKMC was one of the U.S.A.'s strongest allies and one of the North Vietnamese's fiercest enemies in the Vietnam War; a U.S. Marine who had served in Vietnam told me that the ROK Marines were brutal fighters who had a low tolerance for B.S. from the locals or from anyone. They are trained to be ferocious warriors in the same way that U.S. Marines are, but they are Koreans through and through. I just liked imagining a young man made in that image, whose father is a decorated Marine veteran, being a counter to Mark and Henry. Jackson was not imagined and planned to be in the story from the beginning, but once he was in the story, I liked including him.

Carter Stevens and Michael Cadiz are another pair of characters I like. Carter is a good kid who has been very much taken in by Henry and Mark's propaganda, just as many decent young men were in the days of Nazi Germany. He and Michael are both bullies and behave cruelly towards those they see as beneath them while treating equals and superiors fairly. Andrew Cadiz and Michael Cadiz have an excellent relationship, with Andrew mentoring Michael and encouraging him to be more outgoing, more macho, more athletic, which Michael eagerly does. Just like Henry and Mark do, Andrew and Michael really do love each other and would be devastated if anything happened to the other. However, Andrew and Michael are NOT sociopaths. They are simply bullies and macho jerks.

AM83220 asked me yesterday how I felt with this "great white whale" of a story was almost completed; I initially did not realize he was referencing Herman Melville. Well, main thing I can say is that I feel good about it, and proud. This will never have anything to do with my offline life, but it is something I did and can take pride in having accomplished. But anyway, one of my main feelings is actually disbelief. After nearly four years of having this story on the "Active" list, after so much time writing and writing and having its end be SO far away and distant a thing, I kind of became used to assuming that would never change anytime soon. Suddenly realizing I was close to the end, and am now AT the end, was and is surprising. I'm glad to have completed this story.

2017 is my fifth year on this website. I will not be going anywhere if I can help it. I will aim to change the quote on my profile page every month, to help indicate I am still active. Well, that and add new stories and chapters. That will also show I am active. And once I start a story, I will ALWAYS finish it.

I would now like to thank each and every user who has posted even one review of this story as of 3-6-2017:

AM83220

Comedy Monarchy

fear2breathe

L0Vans

phorosz

RemyCole

Your feedback is greatly appreciated.

I would also like to thank each and every guest reviewer.