This was written for a book project on 'Lies', so here be spoilers if you haven't yet read it! Also, it was an attempt to write in the style of Michael Grant... so I basically failed at that, but it's certainly a departure from my normal style. It hurt my soul to write in past tense like this... D: Anyway, enjoy!

NINE HOURS, TWO MINUTES

Orsay was tired. She had watched the morning sunlight creep across the kitchen floor all morning with her cheek pressed against the cold kitchen table. She had not gone to bed.

Orsay was increasingly unwilling to go to sleep. Her dreams were now even more hectic than the anarchy that was the FAYZ. Worse, they were starting to invade her waking hours with their incoherence. With so many different half-realities in her head at all times, she was exhausted. But there was absolutely nowhere for her to escape to, and each day she wasn't home was longer than the last.

She heard feet padding slowly down the stairs, then across the wooden kitchen floor. The olive toes stepped carefully into Orsay's vision, effectively blocking what little barely-dawn sunlight was hitting her face. Orsay let her eyes slip closed.

"You should have slept, Prophetess."

Don't call me Prophetess, Nerezza, Orsay thought.

"I'm sure you're tired."

So, so tired.

"You need sleep."

Rest. Rest was what Orsay needed. Sleep meant dream-hopping through a million brains, picking up messages of questionable reliability to report to hopeful children. They all thought she was some kind of medium, and Nerezza would allow them to continue in that thought for as long as she could.

Nerezza was her protector, and there was no doubt that Orsay needed her. But Orsay was realizing that if she didn't try to regain some control, her hostile ally could very easily have her trapped.

"You have so many children waiting to hear of your visions," the beautiful girl was saying now, advancing a bit closer. Orsay listened to the floorboards creak, not opening her eyes. "Would you let so many families and children stay unable to communicate, just because you wouldn't sleep?"

Please don't make this my fault, Orsay thought. This was not my fault. I want my dad too.

"I know you're awake, Prophetess."

"It's not my fault," Orsay murmured, surely slurring her words by having her head still pressed to the table. "I didn't cause the FAYZ."

"Well, of course you didn't, Prophetess," Nerezza said, and there was something about how precisely the words were emphasized that made Orsay wonder. But only for a moment. "Don't be silly. That isn't what I mean."

She resented that. Why were the only thoughts worth listening to the ones that had been whispered into Orsay's subconscious?

Receiving no answer, Nerezza stepped closer and Orsay heard her knees hit the floor. She opened her eyes to find Nerezza's face a challenging three inches away. With those bright green eyes staring at her, Orsay almost cared about how gross she must look at the moment. She hadn't washed her hair with anything but harsh dish soap in ages (which was better than what most kids had, since everything from dishwasher liquid to bubble soap was used for washing nowadays), and it had been even longer since she saw toothpaste (which many kids had tried eating when starvation began to set in).

"Hey," Nerezza said, softer this time. Her left hand cushioned her chin from the table, while her right hand stroked Orsay's hair comfortingly. "Hey. I really think you'd feel better if you slept some. You're going to have to, sometime, and maybe the dreams wouldn't be so wicked if you slept more regularly. Not that the craziness is bad news for us Normals, but," Nerezza's hand went from playing with Orsay's hair to tracing her jaw, gentle as her voice, "I know you'd be the one getting hurt. You're just the girl of constant sorrows around here."

"Are you bipolar, Nerezza?" Orsay mumbled.

"Come on, Prophetess." Orsay's suspicious only friend stood and grabbed her with strong arms. Orsay groaned; her eyes just barely slipped shut and her feet shuffled rather than walked. Nerezza patiently half-led, half-dragged the near-unconscious Orsay upstairs and into bed.

And so my neverending journey continues, she thought bitterly.

Nerezza pulled a blanket over Orsay, tucking it around her chin. "Can you rest now?"

All Orsay wanted to do was rest. All Nerezza would hear about was sleep. "Maybe."

Nerezza pursed her lips, and then turned to the wall opposite Orsay's bed. She pounded on it with her palm several times. "SIREN!"

Orsay grimaced, closing her eyes. The last thing she saw was Jill walking in, clutching her doll. Her other hand rubbed sand from her eyes.

"Sing for the Prophetess," Nerezza commanded.

"Nooo. I'm so tired, it's too early," the little girl murmured, her voice cracking with sleep.

A resounding slap, a gasp. "Sing, Siren. I said sing."

Quietly, Jill sang, and Orsay was too tired to care that Jill's voice was now breaking with tears, not exhaustion. "Hushaby, don't you cry…"

And Orsay let the Siren's spell overcome her.

I can has Odyssey references.

Girl of constant sorrows, neverending journey, etc: Odysseus' journey.

Siren (the only canon Odyssey reference): The Sirens' singing made a spell come over humans so they were mesmerized by the song.

Calypso: Keeps Odysseus captive. All he wants to do is go home.

Please review, and thanks for reading~