It's the first time since STEM that Juli tries to sleep, when she realizes that she can't. Exhaustion had set in on her body, of course, but none of that felt like actual sleep; more like fainting. Juli would be perfectly lucid one moment and the next, someone would be shaking her awake because it was time to share her story again. By the time she got to her own apartment, Juli was hardly aware of the need to sleep. That was hours ago.

Juli lays away, staring at the blank whiteness of her ceiling. Her alarm clock blinks red light at her, telling her that it's 2:34 AM (and Juli has to remind herself, over and over, that the red light is far too dim to be those monsters.) The time would have been fine if she had only just laid down, but she had originally tried to go to sleep at eleven. That was three-and-a-half hours of listening to the plumbing of the building. Juli heaves a sigh and gets out of bed.

Sleep trouble is nothing new to her. Juli can count her truly good nights of sleep on one hand. Either she's up too late, too early, or she doesn't sleep at all. When Juli got older, she started indulging in pharmaceuticals: caffeine pills, Nyquil, and Benadryl, all to try and regulate her sleep schedule. She almost had a good schedule established- down by 10, up by 6- but now…

Juli walks around her room, taking in details. It's mostly devoid of personal touches. The money from her job was never her motivation; it had been belonging and purpose, things that she couldn't put a price tag on. As a result, the lavish furnishings that usually went with Mobius' salary were absent from her apartment, and the money just accumulates in her bank account. Juli did make it a point to buy some basic home items: a solid white blanket; a black cube end-table that served as her nightstand. Functional furniture, in neutral tones. Nothing that proclaimed "Hello, I am Juli Kidman, and this is my residence!" Not like her parents' home, with the hand-me-down quilts and religious iconography stacked wherever it would fit. Or like Sebastian's desk, strewn with dirty mugs and half-crumpled paperwork.

Juli wonders about them. Her partners. Her fellow victims of STEM. Is Joseph awake, staring at the night sky, begging for sleep? Does Sebastian see Ruvik staring at him from every mirror, the same way Juli sees Mobius' administrator?

On the nightstand, her phone starts buzzing. Glowing. Juli picks up.

"Kidman."

"Hey." There's a pause, just short enough to still be comfortable. "It's Joseph."

"Joseph."

The last time Juli saw Joseph, he seemed weary but content. His voice had been weak but pleasant. Now it had gained some of its strength back, but reached out tentatively.

"Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep."

His voice is pure relief when he sighs and says, "Me neither." There's the sound of a throat clearing. "I don't think Sebastian is sleeping much either. I live only a few houses down, and his lights are still on."

Juli leans against the window, looking out over Krimson City. There are dots of light in other buildings. Some are blue from a TV. Some are the tell-tale dim white of fluorescent bulbs. Traffic lights, street lights. And somewhere in the sea of glass and copper wire, Sebastian Castellanos is still awake.

"So what are you saying?"

"I know it's a little inappropriate." He pauses. "It's actually really inappropriate, actually. But I'm not sure any of us should be alone." In half a whisper, he added, "I know I shouldn't be."

Several responses came to mind, some coldly flirtatious ("What makes you think I'm alone?") and some just plain cold ("Tough luck. Bye.") The three of them were beyond banter and boundaries. Something horrible had happened to them in STEM, and they were the only ones who could understand it.

"What's his address? I'll meet you there."