For the first time since the mess with Tom (a mess that Daria realized was largely her own fault), she found herself regretting going to Jane's house. Jane had ushered her in the moment she arrived, her exhaustion back with a vengeance. She then walked around the house like a woman possessed, checking the locks over and over again.

Daria would have found it grimly appropriate if Artie had delivered the pizza. However, the pizza boy turned out to be none other than Jeffy, his appearance a brief stab of normalcy in the peculiar environment.

They retired to Jane's room, still torrid despite open windows, and watched familiar images flicker across the screen. Their commentary, half-hearted from the start, soon faded into silence. Jane drew her knees up to her chin, bloodshot eyes switching between the screen and the window.

The heat and the almost visible fear in the room finally drove Daria to take action. She grabbed the remote and pressed the pause button before standing up and facing Jane. Only barely aware of her surroundings, it took Jane a moment to notice.

"Jane, what's going on?"

She didn't say anything at first, her eyes downcast.

"I guess I'm not very good at hiding things. It's something really stupid," Jane admitted.

"I don't know if I can help, but I'll try," Daria said, some of the tension leaving her body.

"Yeah. Okay," Jane said, taking a deep breath, and looking to her left, as if embarrassed to face Daria. "It's these dreams I've been having."

"Like nightmares?"

"Guess so. I really can't believe I'm getting so worked up about this. Just dreams, for God's sake! These are more realistic, though. Way more realistic," Jane added, finally facing her friend. "It's why I started that project. I'd get up right in the middle of the night, all these images crowding my head. Half the time I didn't even feel like I was the one painting them, if that makes sense."

"Okay," Daria said, not quite sure what to say next.

"Since you haven't laughed me out of the room, I guess it doesn't sound too nutty."

"Come on, Jane. After everything—well, I'll take it seriously."

"Actually, maybe some snark would make it easier. I dunno. Every time I close my eyes I see it again, this really big and old city, or temple, or something. You know HR Giger?" Jane asked.

"The guy who designed the eponymous Alien, right? And who keeps doing it over and over again?"

"Heh, yeah, him. Kinda like that, though that's not doing a good job describing it. There aren't really any words. Anyway, it's really old, the buildings look all wrong. Everything's definitely too big for people." Something like awe crept into Jane's voice as she described the scene.

"Are you doing anything in this city?"

"I'm not even sure if I'm in the dream. If I am, I'm just standing there. At the end there's this movement somewhere far away, like the entire sky is alive. That's when I wake up."

Jane shrugged.

"When I say it like that it sounds pretty ridiculous. If you do want to laugh, I won't hold it against you."

"Ridiculous or not, it is bothering you."

"It went away the night after I delivered the painting, and I thought I was free. Then it came back, worse than before. Now here's where it gets pretty weird: at the showing, I met Darren Lansky and Joanna Porter."

"Yeah, that art dealer mentioned Darren," Daria said. "He was the one who made the painting that looked kind of like yours."

"Uh huh. Joanna did something like that, too. All three of us had the same dream, and they looked as messed up as me. We talked about it for a while, but didn't really get anywhere.

"Joanna kept trying to say it was coincidence," Jane continued, "but I could tell she didn't believe it. The thing with the Foundation isn't over yet, either. Since I won, they asked me to do another painting for them. Some kind of decoration for their office."

"Are you going to do it?"

"I said yes."

"Unless they made you sign a contract, you should still be able to back out." Daria was pretty sure that was the case.

"Yeah, I might do that. Probably won't make the dreams go away though. Part of me's hoping that finishing this completely will get it out of my system, if that makes sense."

"Okay, well let's see what we have here," Daria said. "You and two other artists in the area have been having upsetting dreams of a strange landscape. You've all made paintings based on these dreams, and submitted them to the showing; yours won, and despite the mental strain and the lack of any financial recompense, you want to make another painting. On top of this, Mrs. Johanssen tries to disrupt the gallery for no logical reason."

"Your conclusion?"

"I have no idea." Daria had hoped that her description would underscore the ridiculousness of the whole thing, but she could tell it hadn't convinced Jane. In truth, it hadn't really convinced Daria, either.

"That's the thing, isn't it? Nothing here really makes sense. That's probably why it doesn't really matter—it just doesn't feel that way."

"Do you feel better having it off your chest?"

"A little," Jane admitted. "Still seems like there's something really strange going on that we just can't see, but I don't know how to begin looking for it. I'll probably still have the dreams too; it's like they're calling to me. I don't want to go sleep, but I know I'll crash sooner or later."

Daria ran it through her head again. She'd never heard of multiple people having shared dreams. More likely they'd just all had bad dreams that weren't actually that similar, but ended up taking relatively similar forms when expressed. A hell of a coincidence, but within the realm of possibility. Mrs. Johanssen probably didn't have anything to do with it.

"If you need help tonight, I'll be here," Daria offered, hoping it counted as some consolation.

"Thanks."

It would never have crossed Daria's mind in a million years just how much help Jane would need that night.