Tracey's Apartment: In Sleep

Externally, little has changed. Rick hugs Tracey who in turn hugs Timmy. There's a jacket on the floor, there are toys scattered around. The tv is showing cartoons, but the sound is muted. The room is quiet, apart from the breathing: Rick and Timmy's deep and slow, Tracey's shallow, and of varying speeds.
Only in the small muscular spasms of Tracey's face and her blue tinged lips are there any signs of distress. And the movement of the eyes beneath the eyelids: fast and frantic like REM sleep, only moreso.
But she is not dreaming. And this is no sleep.