The next morning Mark wakes from a night of tossing and turning. His mind clouded with thoughts of Dark, Anti, and mostly the events from the night before. Him snapping at a man whom he considered a friend, hurting Jack.

He sighs, and after staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever he swings his legs over the bed. When he had first awoken he had panicked not seeing Jack lying next to him, before the events of last night rushed back.

What was wrong with him... He hurt his one love, all because he was losing his mind. He sighs and finally stands, his legs slightly wobbly with the reminisce of his fever. He sighs and slowly makes his way out the door, as he passes by the living room he spots the green haired man, sleeping peacefully on the couch, covered in a thin blanket.

Mark quietly makes his way to the kitchen, careful to not wake the man. When he enters the kitchen, Ken stands faced away from him, he stood by the coffee maker but his eyes don't rest on the machine, instead on the stand holding a collection of kitchen knives.

"Uh... Ken?"

Mark cautiously asks. Ken pulls his gaze away from the counter and turns to look at Mark, his face, which had been focused on the knives thinking intently, now twisted into a small smile.

"Morning Mark."

Ken says, any hint of what Mark saw last night, now melted away. He now only saw his good friend, one he had yelled at the night before.

"Morning.... Listen... about last night..."

Mark begins, prepared to apologize, but is stopped as the black haired man shakes his head.

"Water under the bridge."

He says with a small smile.

"You were really sick last night, I'm sure your fever just made you loopy"

The man finishes with a shrug. Mark smiles and nods, happy that the man was being so forgiving. It was possible the fever was just causing him to see things however he still felt a bit of distrust towards his friend. Between what he saw, and the argument Him and Felix had earlier, he seemed suspicious.

Mark opens his mouth, thinking to ask about the argument once again but is cut off as another figure enters the kitchen. Mark looks over, the first thing his eyes land on is a mess of green hair, and a pair of tired blue eyes.

"Mornin'"

Jack mutters groggily with a yawn, sitting down in the chair next to Mark. Mark smiles slightly, thinking maybe Jack had forgotten the night before. However Mark took notice at how the green haired man seemed hesitant in his motions, how he sat as far to the edge of his chair as possible, away from Mark. And it was clear, he was still slightly fearful of the man.

Of course Jack loved Mark, and of course he trusted the man with his life. But last night, he seemed crazed, dangerous even. He reminded Jack too much of Dark, even for that split second.

"Where's Felix?"

Jack questions as Ken grabs a few cups pouring some of the finished coffee into each one.

"Still asleep."

Ken states simply, gesturing slightly with his head to the upstairs, where Felix was still passed out. Jack laughs, quietly thanking the black haired man as he sets a cup in front of him, and then Mark as well.

"That sounds like him, lazy as always."

Jack jokes, earning a small laugh from Ken, which to Mark seemed slightly forced, though he brushes it off, not wanting to cause more trouble than he had already.

"How are you feeling Mark?"

Jack asks, finally acknowledging Mark and pulling him from his thoughts.

"Fine. Just tired is all."

Mark responds quietly, once again not mentioning his distrust towards the man who stood just on the other side of the counter. Mark drops back into his thoughts, about Ken, about Felix, about his dream, about Dark. As his mind went back to the day he rid of his darker counterpart, he remembered the man's laugh. The way he had let Mark push him back, let him get rid of him. He was so intent on killing the both of them, so why would he give up so quickly, it just wasn't like him.

Mark continues thinking to himself as Ken and Jack chatter next to him, their conversation merely jumbles of words Mark didn't try to understand, lost in his own thoughts. Though Mark noticed Jack's ocean blue eyes occasionally glancing at him, worry lacing his pupils.

Finally Mark shakes his head, realizing he had tensed up greatly, his hands balled into fists on the table top, his cup of coffee not touched in the slightest.

"I think I need a shower..."

Mark mumbles standing quickly. Jack watches him, worry still clear but says nothing as Mark makes his way out of the kitchen and upstairs, hesitant to leave the Irish man with Ken, but deciding it wasn't a big deal.

As he climbs the final step he spots Felix exiting the guest room, his blonde hair a disheveled mess. Neither men really acknowledge each other, simply sharing a passing glance. Felix, seemingly on purpose, bumps his shoulder into Mark. Mark simply shoots a glare at him as he continues walking.

Mark soon is stopped as a male voice speaks behind him. The voice, its familiar Irish accent was replaced with the Swedish of Felix's voice. Though the darkness that dripped from the voice was familiar, familiar enough to bring back memories, familiar enough to send chills down Mark's spine and stop him, frozen in one spot. The voice of the man who almost ruined his life. Almost killed his love. The voice of Anti.

"I told you.... You can't get rid of us."

The voice says. Mark quickly spins around after the initial fear left him, but when he turns, no one is there.

Mark, after staring at that one spot for what seemed like forever, finally forces himself to look away and get to the bathroom.

"It's all in your head... it's all in your head."

He mumbles to himself the entire way, his voice soft and gruff. He finally makes it to the bathroom and instead of climbing into the shower he splashes cold water against his face before sighing and looking at himself in the mirror, a part of him expecting to meet a pair of red eyes but thankful when he only looks into his own chocolate brown ones.

He looked worn, Felix and Ken hadn't been here for long, and already he wanted them gone. Normally he would've loved to see them however they were different. The way they spoke, the way they acted, it was off. It was wrong, but he didn't know why.

Maybe it was all in his head, but he didn't want it to be. Either he was going crazy, or they were really in trouble, neither was a good option.

"They're gone.... They're gone..."

He tells his reflection quietly, his brown eyes scanning his face, the disheveled red mess on top of his head, the dark circles under his dull brown eyes, the deep frown curved into his mouth.

He sighs quietly, his hands clutching the sink tightly as the voice still lingered in his mind. He knew it was probably all in his head, but it sounded so real, sounded like Felix was really..... No it wasn't possible.

He finally pulls himself away from the sink, soon stripping off his clothing and turning the shower on. He climbs in, letting the hot water wet his hair and trail down his body. Thoughts continue littering his brain, driving him closer and closer to madness.

His mind goes back to the whole event that happened, with Dark and Anti. He remembered Jack seeming to lose his mind, remembered the green haired man punching his mirror, breaking his hand. There were still a few scars across Jack's hand, reminding him of that day with each glance.

Jack had gotten better, and Mark thought he had as well, but it seemed he'd only gotten worse. Though Dark and Anti were gone, they still affected him. He felt his mind slowly clouding, more and more feelings of anger, of worry, of pain. They may have gotten rid of the two physically, but the memories never faded.