Full Summary: This is kind of an Alternate Universe in which they character are all good, and there is a different back story. The plot goes on a lot like in the book, but A LOT is different. The 'droogs' all look at each other like REAL brothers. They AREN'T real brothers. But they look at each other as such. None of them are bad or evil-hearted. It was just a thought I had. Kind of like, well, what if they weren't bad. Then it evolved into this. Basically:

Alex had a brother (a REAL, BIOLOGICAL, brother.), his brother thought up this idea of forming a group and being kind of like the modern day Robin Hood along with his Merry men. He did this and formed it within his younger brother, Alex, and his friends. Dim, Georgie, and of course, Pete. Alex's older brother is Jacobson. Jacobson, when he turns eighteen, decides that his dream of taking from the rich and giving to the poor is just childish and could never make a difference in the world, so he decides to joint he military. He dies and this has a hard impact on Alex and his family, but Alex doesn't let it show ever. He ignores it all and has never even cried. Which makes his mother believe he is evil, and his father simply goes insane from the tragedy. They begin to secretly beat Alex and become alcoholics.

Alex and his fellow droogs meet up at a bar called the REDEMPTION and plan there on their 'night acts' which consist of stealing from greedy, evil rich men and women, and then giving to the poor and homeless. Or, simply conning the rich into giving them their money if they don't deserve acts of violence to be set on them.

That's just basically what it's about but it goes into the plot of Alex being arrested, although in here, it's because he get's injured, and then is thrown into therapy without his consent to become 'good' which just turns him into a depressed, suicidal, teen who can't think for himself.

The others see what has happened and go crazy in to get attention. What will happen? Who knows? Read on to find out!

::The Machine's Symphony::

Originally, there had been five. Five of us wandering the streets in search of excitment.

Four only remained.

Originally, though, there had been five brothers. Unrelated brothers who shared nothing but a bond that could never be broken even by the hands of God, if such thing existed.

That, to us, was the true definition of brotherhood. A never breaking bond.

Originally, there had been five brothers who wandered the streets in search of excitement and had met up at the local pub, quietly drinking our scotch that was all but legal.

However, one had died in the line of duty. He'd had enough of childhood fantasies when he had finally turned the ripe age of eighteen and did the first thing that came to mind. Joined the military.

We were all shooken up about it, the rest being quiet and distant for a week or two as I took the position of leader when he left. I held a heavy grudge against him for leaving, the anger deep set within my core.

My Mother and Father were so broken up, they forgot I even existed. Which was fine in my own opinion, I'd rathered them forgetting me then nagging constantly.

A year later we found out that he had died. Jacobson DeLarge had been killed in the line of duty.

We all attended the funeral, of course.

I watched in utter silence at the soldiers standing at attention, their polished leather boots gleming along with their perfectly positioned badges.

They carried the casket, a flag of our country lazily draped over the cover. It wavered slightly in the wind but it never left it's place. My eyes carefully bore into the union jack as the casket crossed the field and then was carefully lowered into the deep confines of the Earth.

The sounds of sorrow traveled in the air, the origin being my Mum. My father tried to comfort her.

I ignored everything around me though, my senses only focused on the burial and the beautiful music that the band was playing behind us. The cold bitter air chapped my lips, nose, and ears but I payed no mind to this either.

Afterwards, I did not leave the sight as my Mum and Father did, but rather stayed and stared at the dull slab of rock. His name. Jacobson DeLarge. A small quote. Fought for his Country. A great soldier, son, brother, and friend. His birth date. March 21st, 3001. His death date. December 17th, 3020. All engraved into the little slab of stone.

The glare from the sun reflected into my eyes, but I didn't dare turn away.

It wasn't until later that night that I returned home to see my Mother and Father throwing weak punches at each other in their drunken stupor. I watched from afar, neither getting too injured. Or at least injured enough for me to step in. Suddenly their attention was taken away by my entrance though and they began on me, their punches not so weak now that they had an adrenaline rush.

My face was clean of injury, but my body had taken quite the beating. My stomach sore, legs black and blue and even bloody places. I had managed to escape them and the following morning they pretended as though nothing happened, which I gratefully engaged in as well.

I fancied the thought that it had been a one time thing out of anger and tragedy. The following nights showed, however, that nothing would ever be the same. I, however, learned a sacred skill. They wouldn't go to sleep until the breaking hours of morning, but if I slipped in quietly and dashed to my room, their brains wouldn't be able to comprehend the fact I had ever come inside the apartment.

That was my answer.

My name, if you'd like to call me by it, is Alex DeLarge.

The other members of our lot, as I liked to call it, was Georgie, Pete, and Dim.

That is, George Williams, Pete Felt, and Dim McDaniels.

I enjoyed thinking of us as the new and imporved Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Taking from the rich and pompous aristocrats, and giving to the neglected, malnourished, poor.

We were simply putting the balance back into things around the city, which originally had been the plans of my brother who took us all in as his merry men. In his death though, I was given the position of leader.

Alex DeLarge, as your Humble Narrator.