Jean should argue, it was way too early to sleep. She told herself she didn't because he too needed the rest, not because she had finally relaxed enough to feel tired. Opening her mouth to remind him to wake her if anything unusual happened, all she got out was a yawn and a small satisfied him as he muddled into her.
She wasn't sure how long she was asleep, or when the dreams turned from some sort of surrealistic amalgamation of subconscious thoughts. All she knew was that now, there was the screeching of fire, and of a creature in pain, torn to pieces.