Jessica doesn't remember if she dreamed. She thinks that she must have; she thinks there's little other explanation for the nightmare of noxious gas and festering wounds that flashed behind her eyes while she slept. It all happened peacefully enough from the outside, and it's only at the urging of her friend that she even realizes she's fallen asleep and needs to wake up.

She opens her eyes slowly and tries to tug at her arms, but finds them immobile, her wrists tingling. She tries to eke out a yell, but she breathes in and her windpipe tightens. Her eyes almost flash gold, and her instincts kick in before her thoughts do. "Let go!" she screams, and she presses an open palm to the flowers below her. The lilacs go grey for a moment before a vine pulls her hand away, and she wrenches her arm to try to free it again. She looks towards Noelle, still always in her actual eyes, and yells more harshly than she wants to: "Get away before I hurt you too!"

She can't infect these flowers, these vines. They won't let her touch stay long enough to cause any problems, and the ones she'd started to kill are already growing back. And like they're learning, or like they already know her, they start wrapping tighter around her limbs, her neck, and dragging her into the air. They spread her arms wide and bind her legs tightly so she can't do anything to fight back, and the vine around her neck slithers and coils itself as a snake would. She gags and coughs up blood.