Sleep did not come east for Sam. He struggled against it, fought it as long as he could, but the simple fact was, a man needed sleep. He could only fight it off so long, before his body gave out and surrendered to the darkness, and the visions that awaited him there.
He was still for a while, breath even and calm, in the early stages of sleep. it wasn't until he reached a deeper phase of the cycle that the distress started. He whimpered, drew his knees up to his chest. His hands curled in to fists. He seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible, or maybe invisible.
He cried out, and his body reacted as if he'd been stung. He tensed, legs pulled out from his chest. Sweat beaded his brow, soaked his shirt within seconds.