Title: Permanently marked Fox lay between Walter and John and reached out to gently touch Walter’s Marine Corps tattoo. Nonchalantly, he said: ‘I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.’ ‘No.’ Walter said immediately and firmly. Fox frowned. ‘You and John both have them.’ ‘It’s different.’ ‘How?’ Fox demanded. ‘Everyone got one. It was as much a part of being in the Corps as the stupid haircut and getting drunk.’ Walter immediately regretted the second part of his statement and backtracked quickly. ‘I mean…’ Fox smiled. ‘Drunk Walter? You? Drunk?’ ‘That’s enough!’ Walter snapped, ignoring Fox and John’s smiles. ‘You’re not getting a tattoo.’ Sulkily, Fox lay down, deliberately turning away from Walter, his fingers reaching out to touch John’s tattoo. ‘Yours is darker.’ ‘Yeah, well, I haven’t had mine as long. I can still remember getting it done. Jeez, it hurt.’ Fox frowned. ‘A lot?’ ‘Hurt like Hell.’ John said, remembering. Unlike Walter, he had been stone-cold sober. Fox swallowed hard, still determined to go ahead with his idea. He could put up with a little pain. After all, the design he had in mind was nowhere near as detailed as the MC design both Walter and John had. He closed his eyes, determined to work on Walter the following day. ************* Over breakfast, Fox started again. ‘Would you like to see the design I’m having for my tattoo?’ Just barely hanging onto his temper, Walter said firmly: ‘You’re not getting a tattoo Fox. Now eat your breakfast.’ Fox continued to badger Walter, John managed to not get drawn in by staying out of any room the two of them were in after breakfast. Inevitably, John and Walter met on the staircase as John was coming down from the bathroom and Walter was heading for it. Wordlessly, Walter jerked his head at the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Fox started on at Walter again as soon as he came back down the stairs. Walter either ignored him or snapped at him to be quiet. Eventually Fox snapped: ‘I’m over eighteen. If I want a tattoo, I can get one.’ Finally, Walter had had enough. Grabbing his keys from the table, he folded the newspaper closed and got up. ‘Okay. Let’s get it done. Come on. You too John.’ Stunned by the sudden change in Walter’s attitude, Fox got up, grabbed his coat and followed him out, John close behind. ************* Fox paled a little as the screams continued, interspersed with sobs, but stood his ground. After all, the kid was a girl, and all of twenty. He wouldn’t make that much fuss. The woman who showed them into a room off the main corridor looked at the design Fox had drawn. ‘We’ll give you a leaflet on wound care. Look after it or…’ With that, she left them alone. Fox paled slightly, and swallowed hard. ‘Wound?’ Walter steered Fox towards the chair in the center of the room. ‘Yeah. It breaks the skin. That’s why it bleeds. That’s a wound.’ Fox began to move towards the door. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ Walter shook his head, his mouth set in a thin line. ‘Oh no.’ ‘What?’ Fox began to breathe heavily. ‘Sit. Down. Now.’ Walter emphasised his snarled words with a shove, sending Fox sprawling backwards into the chair. Fox flinched as Walter’s strong hands gripped his shoulders tightly, pinning him in place. Craning his head round, Fox saw his last hope. ‘John, do something.’ Fox pleaded tearfully, looking round at John who stood a few feet away. John folded his arms across his chest, his body blocking the doorway – the only exit, Fox realised. John shook his head. ‘You wanted a tattoo Fox. Now you’re gonna get one.’ Fox slumped in the chair, terrified and aware he had made a terrible mistake. ‘I’m sorry. Please…don’t…Walter…’ Fox’s soft words, forced out as he gasped desperately for air, were enough for Walter. Sighing, he leaned down. Gently, he asked: ‘Shall we go home?’ Almost choking on his sobs, Fox nodded miserably. Walter looked up. ‘John, bring the car round the side please.’ ‘Sure. You want me to come back in?’ ‘No. I can manage.’ Walter wiped Fox’s face with his handkerchief, handed him his jacket and helped him to his feet. Pulling aside the curtain in front of them, he revealed a fire exit. ‘Always have your escape route planned in advance Fox.’ Light-headed with relief at leaving the building unmarked, Fox nodded without really hearing the words. Walter held Fox as he swayed slightly. ‘It’s okay Fox. I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths.’ Wide-eyed, Fox expressed his fear. ‘I…thought you were…going to make me…get it…’ Walter hugged Fox, who was limp in his arms. ‘I would never do anything like that Fox and you know it. I wanted to scare you. John agreed to help me. This was a stupid idea, and I would never have let you go through with it.’ ‘You would…have stopped me? But you said…’ Walter nodded. ‘I changed my mind Fox.’ ‘I’m glad you did.’ Fox said quietly, finally feeling a little stronger. They both heard John’s car horn sounding outside the door and Walter pushed the bar down, letting Fox walk out into the fresh air. After a few deep lungfuls, Fox walked to the car, reassured by Walter’s proximity to him as he crossed slowly to the car. ************ Later that evening, Fox lay with his head in Walter’s lap, John sitting on Walter’s other side. ‘I’m sorry. About today.’ Walter smiled, reaching down to ruffle Fox’s hair. ‘Next time I tell you not to do something, maybe you’ll listen to me?’ John laughed, handing Walter and Fox their beers. ‘How likely is that?’ Fox looked up into Walter’s eyes. ‘Not very.’ Sighing resignedly, Walter chuckled. ‘Not at all.’ The following morning... Fox looked up from his toast and coffee. 'I think I'm gonna get my ear pierced.' 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