I have lived eighty years of life and know nothing for it,

but to be resigned and tell myself

that flies are born to be eaten by spiders

and man to be devoured by sorrow.

- Voltaire

Insomnia journal: Entry 4 - 2:13 am

I guess the only complaint (if I had to complain about something) is that I can't sleep at night. But you know the Devil is in the dreaming. And all the little things that make up a memory. But now I think I'm glad about what she talked me into doing. I know it's not her fault, and I feel guilty for cutting off Gwen like that. She was right. I needed to tell Mariah to get away from me. It wasn't easy, but if I love her for real, then I don't need her to believe me. And these silhouettes that hang above my head, like to whisper to me every time I fall asleep. They're Michalangelo's angels of the silences that climb into my bed. They read me like an open book, then suck my blood and break my nerve. They say, We're waiting for you. And I say, I know that I'll pay for all my sins. And I'd pay now if I could, if that would mean an end to the suffering. All my claims of innocence are wasted on the dead and dreaming. These visions of my Last Judgement, are angels on the ceiling that offer me their arms.

But I can think of something better if all my friends and lovers will leave me behind, one way or another.

The laboratory on the twelfth floor of the Thomas Starzl Biomedical Science Tower in Pittsburgh was deserted, save for one lonely figure suffering from insomnia.

April had returned to her studies at Harvard, but at least Tom had the feeling of satisfaction that came from a renewed relationship with her. He had his own studies and duties to try and focus on, but somehow he felt more comfortable satiating his scientific curiosities alone at the Pitt, as his university was affectionately called.

But it wasn't only certain individuals both at school and at work that he would rather not have to see and deal with.

He was also hiding from facing his nightmares.

At least now he had some pleasant thoughts of April to rally against the evil genius loci that had been inhabiting his thoughts of late. All to readily, his meditation turned to self reproach; as his reflection began to dwell on his own idleness, his paralysis of soul which was gaining on him. And of the night which seemed to grow more dense until it even began to crowd out the day.

The unwelcome chime of his phone ringing interrupted his concentration. In the midst of his dejected reflection, he was disinclined to answer, but when he saw the display read 'Gwen,' that unwavering dedication to an ideal made it impossible for him not to pick up. Also the fact that she was calling at such an unearthly hour added unease to his mood.

"I'm sorry to call you like this, but I'm in New York, and we need you to give more attention to your duties with Oscorp."

"'We' need, or you need?"

"C'mon, Tom, don't be a bastard about this."

"I'm not sure it even matters. I'm on my to getting kicked out of Oscorp."

"Will you just meet up with me? I'd much rather talk all this out face to face. Plus I want to see you."

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

The following day, Tom and Gwen met for lunch at an old pizzeria that they liked in Brooklyn. Tom was loath to admit it, but he was very happy to see his old friend and partner. But at the same time he felt that some kind of scolding was due to be carried out. Gwen, for her part, turned up the charm to irresistible levels.

"So we've been able to get together at last," she said, hugging him. "I have missed you so damn much. I always knew I had a treasure in a partner like you, but never more than now. If you had any idea what I've had to endure when it comes to lab associates, you'd be on the first plane to Tehran. And can you believe that some of them don't appreciate my little rituals? Obviously what is the first thing you need to do on entering the lab?" She looked into Tom's eyes, who was trying his best not to betray his inner feelings.

Finally he couldn't help himself. "You have to put the coffee on."

"Before talking to anyone, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well some just don't get that. They insist on coming into my office or my station, and pestering me with sometimes the most inane conversation or questions. I mean, what happened to human decency?"

"I don't know."

"Well! You may not completely understand. You're still working in a somewhat civilized country. But c'mon! Why are you looking so sad and burnt out? Surely you're got something interesting going on with your work. You're still studying at McGowan, right? And you are the head of Oscorp Labs! That is pretty exciting."

Tom didn't reply.

"Well, some of your potential is not being challenged. I'll have a word with Mark Iraklis when I see him."

When Tom still didn't say anything, Gwen resumed with an expression that gradually clouded over. "You don't seem very glad to see me," she said, sounding hurt.

Still without looking directly at her, Tom shook his head a little, opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped himself, obviously debating the argument in his head.

Gwen remained silent for a moment, then exclaimed, "Look! I know you and I know how to cheer you up. Your problem stems from idleness. You have depression caused by ennui. You are being overcome by inertia. Do you understand what I'm saying? You just need-"

"I don't want your advice, Gwen!" Tom suddenly exploded. He raised his hand as if to say more, but gave up, as if he couldn't command the energy.

Gwen's eyes hardened. "You don't want my advice? Well you damn well need it, you son of a bitch. I'm here because I need your help, but also because you need mine. Look at me. Look me in the face. I'm asking you to do this. Your Gwen. This is your Gwen, asking you to do something for her. No, don't turn away. You keep looking at me and look me in the eyes, and tell me what's eating you because…" Gwen's voice trailed off, sounding like she was starting to choke up. She quickly tried to wipe away a tear before Tom noticed.

Throughout her little speech, Tom tried to look at her, but his discomfort showed through until he could not maintain eye contact any longer. "I… I can't," he said softly.

"You can't what?" Gwen yelled. Tom just shook his head. Gwen stopped sniffling and her voice took on a commanding tone. "Look. I am sick and tired of your attitude with me. Don't hate the messenger when you knew yourself that if you wanted to keep Mariah safe, then you needed to put some distance between you and her. I'm sorry that things turned out that way, but you have got to get a grip and get over your anger."

"It's not just you. I'm angry with everyone these days."

"Listen," she said softly, touching his hand. "I've always known that you have the potential to not only be a leader in the scientific community, but also to have a beautiful soul. Don't throw it all away over some disappointment. I know. I get that you are hurting. But instead of curling up into the emotional fetal position, try channeling those emotions to lift you to your potential. You can achieve unparalleled brilliance."

Tom looked at her. "I don't think I can."

Gwen lightly stroked his fingers. "Listen to me. The soul which loves and suffers is in a state of sublimity. You have what it takes. You just need the motivation."

Tom smiled a little. "Okay. So why am I doing whatever this is?"

Gwen took his hand in hers. "Do it for me, as a friend."

"Well, what is it already? Tell me what you want me to do."

Gwen bit her lip, seeming to hesitate, as though after having successfully convinced Tom she was waging an inward conflict trying to convince herself. At last she appeared to come to a decision. "You've still got some rage inside, but so much the worse, I don't care. I believe in you."

"Yes, okay. But just tell me." Tom smiled a little more and sounded a bit like his old self.

"It's Mark Iraklis."

"Oh? What about him?"

"He's blind."

"I'm sorry to hear that. And?"

"He thinks that you can help him to see again."

"What? Why in the world would he think that?"

"Because I told him that you could."

"Gwen, that's crazy. We got lucky with the transgenic breakthrough, and I was working on the lifetime achievements of two brilliant scientists. I don't know if I'll ever be able to duplicate that kind of discovery."

"All I'm asking is that you try."

Tom stared at Gwen, wide-eyed, smiled and then he began to look up in thought. "If we could come up with something, that would potentially help a lot of people."

Gwen could see the wheels starting to spin at top speed in Tom's head, and she knew that the prospect of a fascinating puzzle had finally hooked him. She withdrew her hand and went on in a tone which could have rent the heart of an observer, but which did not even graze Tom in his state of self-pity and introspection. "Well, I see that that's cheered you up."

A cloud suddenly swept across Tom's brow, and this time he reached out and grabbed her wrist. "When I ended things with Mariah, you said that we couldn't be together because, well, I don't really know why."

"Tom, please," Gwen almost begged.

"That's fine, but just help me to understand."

"I seriously do not want to have that conversation again."

"Well neither do I, but-"

"Listen. The truth is that girlfriends, they come and go. But good friendships, those are harder to come by, and when they do, they last forever." She peered into his eyes.

Tom gazed back at her, and then shook his head with a laugh. "When you're right, you're right," he shrugged. "But answer me this: why do I still feel that you can talk me into doing absolutely anything? It's kind of scary actually; like I don't have control over my life."

Gwen smiled warmly at him. "Are any of us in control, really? When we think we are, then that's when the delusion comes. Science has succeeded in so far analyzing man that we know that what is called freedom of choice is in fact merely a chimera, an illusion. Now are we just going to keep sitting here being all syrupy or are we going to get to work?"