((Hey guys, just a warning I most likely won't be updating over the weekend, I'll try if I have time but unfortunately it's a pretty busy weekend. Thanks for understanding, and I'm sorry :) )))

The front door creaks open quietly, a blonde man stumbles inside. Sighing as he closed the wooden door behind him. His blue eyes scan the room and land on a man, Mark, passed out on the couch, TV playing overtop of his soft snoring.

Ken was out somewhere, doing whatever it was he did, but not in the house it seemed.

The blonde Swede walks passed the couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand as he does so, hanging loosely from his grasp and threating to fall to the floor and break.

He makes his way up the stairs, his mismatched eyes glowing menacingly against the dark house. He clings to the railing as he staggers up the flight of stair, finally making it and walking down the hall, passed his room, passed the bathroom, and stopping outside the door at the end of the hallway.

He opens the door not so quietly and walks inside, not bothering to close it behind him. Stopping at the edge of the bed he looks down a lump underneath the covers, mismatched eyes scanning it angrily.

Jack laid bundled up underneath the covers, his chest rising and falling gently, and his eyelids twitching lightly. His green hair spread messily over his face, and mouth slightly ajar.

Anti looks down at him, his fist tightening around the bottle in his hand.

"It's all your fault..."

He mutters to the sleeping form, words slurring considerably. He sets the bottle onto the bedside table roughly, the noise making Jack shift slightly, but not fully wake up.

"You took Dark from me...."

Anti mumbles with a snarl, his fists clenching at his sides furiously. He finally releases a growl climbing onto the bed, and onto Jack, sitting on his stomach which woke the Irish man up.

Before Sean could realize what was happening, Anti wrapped his hands around the small man's pale throat, squeezing and cutting off his air supply.

Jack wriggles underneath his weight, gasping for air, now fully awake. His blue eyes go up and meet the mismatched ones of anti, his ocean blue orbs widening with fear.

Anti only grips his neck tighter, nails digging into the soft flesh of his throat, and his eyes shining with pure rage. His mouth curls into a snarl as Jack claws at his hands, his lungs screaming for oxygen, and blackness entering the corners of his vision.

The Irish man tries to call out for help, but only manages to gasp, not able to form words as his eyelids grow heavy. Just before Jack's vision blackens fully, Anti's eyes change from fury to almost a bit of confusion, mixed with regret and his hands loosen lightly.

Finally after a minute he lets go of the man's throat and climbs off of him quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed as Jack gasps for air behind him, clutching his sore neck.

Once Jack had managed to mostly catch his breath, he looks over to the blonde man who had nearly killed him. Anti doesn't' pay attention to the Irish man behind him, he stares down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists gently as he sat there.

Jack takes in a couple of slightly shaky breaths and slowly stands up off of the bed, backing away, keeping his gaze on the man on his bed.

"Go ahead... Go get Mark... go run into the arms of your prince charming."

Anti slurs softly, his words making Jack freeze in place. His voice, which was normally smug, now had a hint of sadness in each word.

"Are... Are you drunk?"

Jack asks finally, raising an eyebrow at the clearly drunk man, this being proven when Jack saw the half gone bottle of whiskey on his nightstand.

Anti shrugs his shoulders lightly, saying nothing, and continuing to stare downwards. Jack sucks in a breath and hesitantly walks forward, of course he was still fairly fearful of the man, but he didn't seem violent at the moment.

"I couldn't kill you... I want to... but I can't."

The man speaks again, words slurring together gently.

"Why do you want to kill me? What did I ever do to you?"

Jack asks, taking another small step forward, blue eyes studying the drunken man curiously. Anti's hands clench into fists once again and he lifts his head, mismatched eyes finally turning to look at Jack, cold, emotionless.

"You took Dark from me... He's supposed to be mine."

Anti responds after a long silence, dropping his gaze once again. Jack's eyes narrow as he walks forward, finally standing only a couple inches from the man.

"I... Took him from you?"

The green haired man asks curiously, unsure of what he meant. Anti sighs with exasperation, his voice lowering in volume as he continued to speak.

"He doesn't want me anymore... He wants you."

The man finally explains, pushing a hand through his blonde hair. Jack sucks in a sharp breath, mind going back to the situation with Dark, and instinctively his hand goes to the small cut on his cheekbone.

"Why me...?"

Jack asks softly, forcing himself to sit on the bed a couple inches apart from the drunken man who glanced at him for merely a second, before looking down again. The green haired man didn't feel fearful of this man at the moment, he knew he should, but all he could do was pity him. Of course both of them were psychotic, but Anti really did care for Dark, and Dark just threw him aside.

"He's a control freak Sean... And you're innocent, shy... easy to control... You're the perfect toy for him."

The green haired man cringes slightly as Anti uses the word 'toy'. He didn't want to be seen as some psycho's plaything.

"I'm not his toy..."

Jack grumbles softly. Anti laughs quietly, rolling his eyes as he lifted his gaze.

"We'll see."

Anti mutters before sighing and dropping his small smile, mismatched eyes moving past the green haired man and to the bottle that sat on the nightstand. He reaches out one hand and looks to Jack pleadingly.

"Hand it to me."

He demands simply. Jack shakes his head and shoots a small glare at Anti.

"You're drunk... no more..."

Jack replies simply, standing from the bed. He walks over and grabs the bottle from the nightstand, walking to the door with a mumble.

"I didn't even know you could get drunk..."

Stopping at the doorway the Irish man turns and shoots a look at the blonde who looked at the bottle longingly.

"I'll be back... don't break anything..."

Jack warns simply before walking out of the door and down the stairs quietly. He smiles slightly seeing Mark asleep on the couch and walks into the kitchen, of course he wondered where Dark had gone, but had more important things to worry about. Like that drunk idiot upstairs.

The green haired man sighs as he simply sets the bottle on the counter, resisting the urge to take a drink of it himself. With all the craziness that had been happening a little alcohol could do him good. However, looking at the clock and realizing it was three in the morning, he decided against that idea.

He walks back out, stopping to cover Mark with a blanket and shut the television off, before walking upstairs to his room again. Once inside he resists the urge to face palm.

Anti laid passed out on the bed, sprawled over at least half of it, small snores resonating as his chest rose and fell. Jack runs a hand through his green hair, looking at the man with a sigh, his exhaustion hitting him once again.

He groans and finally just grabs a pillow off of the bed, along with an extra blanket and lays on the floor, curling up into the blanket, and falling asleep almost instantly, strangely enough not being plagued with nightmares.