Anders and Open
Anders still wasn't enjoying this White Christmas crap. December was supposed to be Summer. He was supposed to be hanging out on the beach enjoying the sun, the surf, the barbie, getting drunk and then later enjoying a different kind of barbie, or two. But no. He was stuck here, with snow and fucking ice and apart from one kiss and some flirting, he was getting far less than he usually got back home. Namely nothing. Fucking island. Or not as it were.
And if he wasn't actually dead, surely his brothers should have found him by now? Mike could find anyone, he was the god of the fucking hunt and games for crying out loud! So either he was dead, they hadn't noticed he was missing (which wouldn't be the first time) or they didn't care. Which was likely. Well, screw them. He lived without them in his life before Axl become the All-Father, he could do it again just as easily.
Anders glanced up at the massive Christmas tree before taking in the people milling around and his gaze fell on the pile of presents beneath it. They range in size and colour and as he observed everyone else it seemed that surprisingly the presents were addressed to specific people. What the hell, it wouldn't kill him to just take a quick look. After a while he frowned at the sight of a large rectangular gift with his name on it.
"From Santa. Yeah right, because I'm a four year old." He rolled his eyes. Still not sure whether to actually open the supposed 'gift' but shrugged and did so anyway. "Well... fuck. How am I supposed to get you guys back to the apartment?" He asked the tank full of fish. The same tank and fish that he kept at his place back home.