"Don't we always?" Ronan forms the words like knives, all edges sharp enough to cut. That's still the natural state of him, even now that he's figured out ways to express himself other than anger. Then, like a confession: "The nightwash has gotten worse."

The thing about the nightwash is that Ronan knows how to fix it: all he has to do is sleep. On paper, it's simple. In practice, they're stuck in a tiny metal box hurtling through the vast expanse of the void and he doesn't know what he'll bring back if he actually tries to sleep. His attempt to follow Adam to Harvard and the fallout from it is still fresh in Ronan's mind, and it was already bad enough in the cramped space of Adam's dorm. He doesn't want to think about what might happen here.