"Sometimes. If you know where you're going and why - sometimes you can stop it." He swallows thickly. The sick twisting in his gut could be anything, fear, trepidation, distrust, maybe his body flat-out rebelling against the urge to share that kind of advice. Maybe they've got similar problems. It's just a recommendation, from one insomniac to another. Is that kind of thing subversive these days? Revealing? Dangerous? No. Hell no. Right now he's probably more unnerving to her than she is to him.

Well, that's justified.

"Or resolve it, or - " He swipes a hand over his face, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes. "Look. I didn't mean - you didn't have control of that, okay? You just - startled me. I didn't expect to see anyone in the room with me."

Not to mention that the last few times something else ended up in the same room as him, it ended - poorly.