He doesn't wake up as he writhes. His eyes are open, but he's not seeing anything, still lost in his dream.

"Not only that," the Harley in his dream says, "but he's so much more my type, don't you think?"

She and Martin give each other a loving look and Malcolm feels like he's going to vomit.

"No!" he says both in his dream and out loud. "Get away from her!" No matter how much he reaches, he can't get to either of them.

"Sorry, son," Martin says as he puts his arm around Harley. "You were never good enough for her. She's mine now."