You're Up Awfully Late {Septiplier}

Just for the Fiasco

A pounding at Mark's door wakes the two men with a start, their hearts crashing into his ribs at the same tempo. Jack grabs fistfuls of Mark's shirt, whining softly.

"I'm not ready to get up yet," Jack mumbles sleepily. "Make then go away, Mark."

The pounding sounds again, sending a second jolt through them. Jack groans loudly, pouting when Mark eases himself away. The American scoots to the edge of the bed, glancing at his phone.

"It's the middle of the night," Mark mutters, confused. "Who would even be up right now?"

As if to answer, another succession of knocks bellows from the door. Mark drops his phone back onto the bed, standing slowly. He gives a wide yawn, rubbing his eyes as he approaches the door. Mark glances through the peephole, cocking his head at the sight. He opens the door, invading the quiet, dark space with harsh light.

"Felix?" Mark half greets, half questions.

The Swede pushes his way in without acknowledging the American. He can't see anything in the thick darkness, confined to the beam of light from the hall. He turns back to Mark, a frown deeply creasing his otherwise smooth face. "Where's Jack?"

"Felix, it's the middle of the night," Mark mentions, keeping the door opening, hoping the blonde will find his way back out.

Felix turns away from Mark, flipping the lights on.

"Felix!" Mark snaps, letting the door go to follow the Swede farther inside. "What the hell man?"

Jack groans, covering his head in the blanket. He has started to turn cold without Mark beside him, and the light nearly blinds him. He can heard the footsteps of the other man but has trouble placing them when his mind is still foggy from sleep.

"Jack," Felix calls, teeth nearly gritted. "I need to talk to you."

The Irishman peeks out from under the blanket, eyebrows knitted together. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"Yours couldn't wait until morning," Felix seethes. "Why in the hell should I have to wait?"

Jack rolls his eyes, tired and cranky and cold and just wanting to go back to sleep. But he sits up, tossing his legs off the side of the bed, looking up at the blonde as if to say happy?

"What the hell did you say to Ken?" Felix demands, rage simmering beneath his voice.

"Not a damn thing that you need to know about," Jack retorts, folding his arms across his chest.

Mark frowns from the sidelines, terrified of the conversation escalating but only vaguely understand what is going on.

"Oh I bet," Felix barks in laughter.

"Okay, hey, why don't we all just calm down," Mark suggests, stepping towards the two others.

Felix twists, jabbing a finger into the American's chest. "Why don't you keep your ass out of it?"

"Why don't you watch your goddamn mouth?" Mark hisses back.

"Why don't you keep your little cheating, slut of a boyfriend from sticking his nose in other people's business?"

Mark smacks Felix's hand away, jaw clenched. "Fuck you, Felix. Get the hell out."

"Fucking make me, Fischbach."

It may have been an empty threat, but Mark shoves Felix, hard, sending the blonde stumbling back. Felix's face is utter surprise for a split second as he recovers, but then his forehead crunches in anger and his lips pull back in a snarl. "Fuck you, Mark."

Jack springs up from the bed, holding his arms out to put space between the two men. "Hey! That's enough!"

Felix's hand reaches to snag the front of Jack's shirt, to pull them face to face. Jack is a bit quicker than the Swede anticipated, jolting back in time for Felix to miss his shirt. The blonde's fingers just barely scrap the metal pendant of the necklace, snatching it and breaking the chain with a tug. It falls from Felix's fingers, tumbling abandon onto the ground.

"Felix!" Jack snaps.

The Swede steps across the broken chain, angry eyes trained on the green haired man. Without a moment of pause, Mark lunges for Felix. They tumble to the ground, the American on top, grabbing for the blonde wrists. Felix is squirming, twisting and pushing at Mark, hands clenching tighter into fists.

"Stop it!" Jack screams.

His outburst only serves to distract Mark, allowing Felix to roll them over. He shoves Mark's shoulders down, snapping his head back against the carpet. It hits with a thud, though Mark doesn't even acknowledge it.

Shaking with fear, Jack runs past them, throwing open the door to find help. Wade and Bob are already peeking outside their doors, sleep cast eyes confused as they must have heard the screams.

"Bob, go get Ken!" Jack demands. "Wade, come here!"

Bob hustles to the stairs, disappearing quickly. Wade jogs to Jack, in sweat pants and a ratty t shirt. Jack steps back inside, pointing to the men scuffling on the floor. Mark has made it back on top, a hand pressed into Felix's cheek to keep his head down. Felix's hands are flying in a blur, smacking and scratching at Mark.

"I don't know what to do," Jack admits, nearly in tears.

Wade dashes over to the fight. He pulls Mark off of Felix, holding the American tightly against his chest as he forces them both back. Arms secured around Mark, the shorter only struggles for a moment, outmatched.

Felix pushes himself up, cheeks red from anger and exertion. A growl rumbles from Mark's clenched teeth, but Jack approaches Felix slowly, too trust long for his own good.

Felix turns on the Irishman, giving him a firm shove. Jack stumbles back, tripping over his feet. He falls onto his butt, a surprised gasp falling from his lips as he looks up at the Swede.

Wade grabs for the blonde, releasing Mark in the process, not know who is the bigger threat. Mark gets to Felix first, smashing him into the wallpaper and securing an arm across his throat. Wade helps Jack up, asking the Irishman if he is okay. Jack nods, though his lip is quivering.

Felix and Mark are both heaving, breath falling harsh against each other's faces. They've calmed for the moment, but the tension in the air warns there could be another outburst at any second.

There is a pounding at the door. Jack jumps to answer it, pulling it open. Ken pushes in without a word, making a bee line for the feuding men. At the sight of reinforcements, Wade grabs Mark again, pulling his friend away from the Swede. Wade forces him back, arm braces against his chest. Mark isn't struggling anymore, though he isn't doing anything to help his friend.

Ken throws his hand into Felix's chest, shoving the Swede back against the wall. Back pressed into the cold wallpaper, the blonde's fists are clenched, though he doesn't struggle against Ken.

Jack and Bob just look at each other, the taller wondering if he needs to restrain the Irishman. He decides not to, looking back to the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Bob finally demands.