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Mark Cohen is addicted to unhealthy relationships (mydocumentary) wrote in wariscoming,

Mark's panic only grew. Mommy and Daddy? There was no denying it then. And the boy hadn't looked at him like he was a stranger, he'd hugged him and pounced Faith and... Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he hung his head in his hands and tried not to throw up. Or faint. Either one sounded like a viable option just then.

When he could finally breathe again, he looked back up at Faith, an anxious expression on his face. "If it isn't, we're both having the same dream. Or hallucination. It's the Seal. It has to be. But...where are we?"

It took him a moment to get back on his feet, but the waves of nausea and lightheadedness passed and he did. Because they needed answers, before that little kid decided he really really wanted pancakes. He started looking around the room, trying to find those answers. The desk on the side of the room was covered in papers and he sat down in front of it. Technically it wasn't a federal offense, they were his. And he knew it, because plenty of them were addressed to Mr. Mark Cohen. Though the ones he found addressed to Mrs. Faith Cohen were a bit of a surprise and he held one up, smirking at her. "I never thought of you as the sort to change your name, you know."