There's only one light on and Carl doesn't bother turning it off - if anything, it may help keep some of the 'shadows' at bay, in case Jack wakes up with another nightmare.

"G'night, Jack," he calls in response, lifting his head to drain the last of the whisky, grateful for the burn running down his throat to help focus his thoughts and ease his anger just a bit. The empty glass goes on the coffee table with a quiet thud, but aside from that, he settles in on the couch for the evening.

He won't sleep, even though he could use a few hours of rest.

This is more important.