He's not asleep, not really. His eyes are closed, but there's too much pain for him to nod off. Max's stomach still hasn't settled, and it's probably a good thing that he hasn't eaten anything in a few days, because otherwise there'd be a puddle of something on his carpet.

There's a voice somewhere far off, in the next room somewhere, but Max isn't sure it's actually there. It sounds a hell of a lot like Lucy, but he's probably just hearing voices. There's a good chance he's still back on that sidewalk in the dark.

Max stirs and curls himself up more tightly into a ball and the mattress springs squeak.