Duce's hand runs under her glasses, rubbing her verymuchclosed eyelids wearily. Her words are quiet, muffled by the wrist in front of her mouth, "Good. It's bad enough watching our friends die in our dreams. None of them are allowed to do it in the waking world. Couldn't handle that. Don't wanna sleep anymore. Couldn't deal if we didn't wanna be awake either."

Readjusting her glasses, she slouches back against the chair. "Maybe try cutting down on it? It's a stacking stimulant and can stay in your system a long time. You're also in a teenage body, which probably doesn't have the same tolerance as an adult."

She sticks her tongue out at Jake, who misses the gesture completely. "Unless you're a bloody mutant who lives on the stuff." Realizing what term of endearment she just used to describe Jake, she smacks herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand. "D'oh. We didn't mean.. gah. Well, at least that adjective is true," she says ruefully.