Markie was practically in tears by the time they'd returned to the tent that he'd originally started at. The lantern was lit, giving Markie a better view of his son/Daddy. Mark Junior--though he supposed he was now Mark Senior, still looked rather young, only a few years older, 20 at most, making Mark a rather young father, if not originally a teenage father to start. Hanging up on a plastic hanger from the center pole of the tent, was a dark green and grey uniform that Markie hazily recognized as a Venturing uniform, the organization that was for older scouts, both boys and girls, ages 14 - 21. Mark Junior hadn't wanted to join Venturing, something that Mark in his old life as an adult had welcomed, but apparently, since the fae folk had stolen his maturity from him, that had changed. What stood out most about the uniform though, wasn't the fact it was a Venturing uniform, but the Assistant Scoutmaster patch on the left sleeve.
Once inside the tent, Mark set Markie down, causing Markie to clutch his terrycloth puppy tightly to his chest.
"And of course you managed to wander out without any shoes or pjs on. You're all scratched up, Markie."
Markie looked down at his feet and legs and saw red and white scratches from pricker bushes, sticks, and stones. His feet looked grimy and dirty from all that wandering through the woods. Before now Markie guessed he'd been too excited to feel them, but seeing them now, he suddenly began to feel the hurt from all the scratches.
Taking his water bottle, wash cloth, and some soap, Mark wiped Markie's legs and feet clean. The feel of the terrycloth wash cloth against his scratches made Markie grab his puppy even more tightly, but soon Mark had finished, wringing out the washcloth just outside the tent. After which Mark pulled out of his backpack a pair of Wolverine pjs--top and bottoms. Rather gently Mark pulled the tops on over Markie's head and then slipped on the bottoms over his wolverine pull-ups. As Mark did this, Markie couldn't help but notice how filled out and strong his son/Daddy was now, easily lifting his legs up as though he'd been doing it for years to change diapers.
If the entire scene weren't somewhat disturbing, Markie thought he might actually not mind the care and attention of his s--Daddy. In his first life, his Dad had died in the latter days of 'Nam, leaving his mother and grandmother to raise him. It had been why he'd been son insistant on spending time with Mark Junior--to give him that loving father-son relationship he'd never had himself, and why he'd positively hated Sharon for nearly taking that away from him. But now... here he was, getting that Daddy time... sure his Daddy might have been his son before, but Markie was starting to wonder if this spell might not be what he'd always wanted, secretly, all along--to be loved and cared for by his Daddy.
"All right, now I have a chapter to finish before light's out, Markie,"
"Why?" asked Markie instinctively, though for some strange reason he almost thought he knew the answer.
Mark explained as settled himself on top of his sleeping bag and opened what looked to Markie to be a ginormous thick and heavy textbook without any pictures in it, "Because I have to prepare for the fall semester if I want to graduate on time, and then we can move out of grandma's house.
"Okay..." answered Markie with a large yawn, though he knew he'd known what all those things had meant, once, the memories associated with all those big words were starting to fade from his memory as quickly as his eyes were growing heavy with sleep. For a moment, Markie wondered where his own sleeping bag was, until he remembered sleeping in his daddy's.
Just then footsteps were heard approaching the tent and Markie wondered if it was the fae folk come back to make him even more of a baby. No, he didn't want to be a baby!
"Hey Mark, everything all right in there?" asked a deep gruff and somewhat familiar voice from outside the tent.
"You find little Markie all right?" asked another voice that sounded awfully familiar.
"Yep, Mr. Reid," answered Mark without looking up from his book.
"What did I tell you, Terry? The kid didn't wander off too far."
"Well, glad to hear the little guy's all right. And for the last time, you're an adult leader now, Mark, drop the Mr. and just call us Dave and Terry," said the second voice.
Mark, closed his book and unzipped the tent and poked his head out. This gave Markie a surprise view of the two middle aged men standing outside of the tent. It looked like the fathers of the two teens he'd caught smoking out in the woods--but they'd stayed at home, and they weren't nearly as gruff sounding, as though they had been smoking cigarettes for years. And besides David and Terry's fathers had different names... names that Markie couldn't quite recall right now.
Mark assured them, "Old habits die hard... M--Terry."
The one who looked like an older David answered, "Understandable. Just wait 'till you're out of college and have to hold down a job. It gets harder to see the scouts as your peers then."
Mark shrugged as he answered, "I guess so. I kinda feel that way already with Markie... Anyway, I need to finish some reading and then I need to get sleepyhead over here to sleep."
"Have a good night you two," said the elder Terry, and the two middle aged men walked off, leaving Mark to zip up the tent.
As Mark settled back down he looked over to Markie, then his textbook, and then sighed and closed it. He then slipped under his sleeping bag and invited Markie in.
"Come on, Markie, you need your sleep."
Markie nodded, and groggily replied by joining his Daddy in his sleeping bag. Markie then felt strong arms surround him in a way that Markie had never felt before. Mark kissed the top of his head.
As Markie settled in to the warm safety of his Daddy's comforting embrace, he heard Mark whisper, "You're a lot of trouble, Markie, a lot of trouble... but you're all worth it, you know. I only wish..."
Uh oh... Markie hoped the fae folk weren't listening.