First story since my hiatus. Wish me luck guys.

Summary: Cammie has night terrors. Like legit night terrors. They've reached the point where she just won't sleep. She won't. It's a new year now, and the Blackthorne boys are back. Cammie is now faced with a mission that lies outside of Gallagher's walls. It's time to face her fears. It's time to wake up.

Chapter 1

Cammie Morgan slept in a bathtub.

Yes, a bathtub. In the bathroom of her dorm. Why? Well it all started with her running away to find answers last year after her escape from the tunnels of Blackthorne. Answers she needed and would find. And boy did she get them.

Last year she had run away from Gallagher to find answers. About her past, about her life, her legacy and her father.

Well she got them. And she has been plagued by the memories of her mission ever since.

When she ran away from Gallagher, she did not know what to expect. Being a spy, you do know there is danger around every corner, there are people looking for you, wanting you. Cammie knew this. She expected to have close calls every once in a while, a few tails here and there.

But she did not expect it to be this easy. That he would just lead her to the tape, that she could watch it without anyone catching or trying to kill her. That it would be so easy to find her answers all in one 3 minute tape. To be honest, it was a very fatal free mission.

So she went back to Gallagher Academy where she suffered the circulation cutting hugs of family and friends, the screaming and anger from her family and friends as well as the hurt they held in their eyes when they looked at her after so long.

After all, she did leave without warning. She did flee right after one of the most dangerous missions of her life. She did leave the one boy who would ever understand and care about her in such a unique way hanging by a thread.

She deserved it.

Cammie woke up with a start as another nightmare jolted her out of her dream.

She stared around the bathroom in pitch darkness, the only lights were of Macey's hair dryer and the tiny little alarm clock she had brought to the bathroom with her. It read 3:15.

She groaned as she plopped back in her bathtub slash bed. She had padded the cold floor of the tub with blankets and placed a soft pillow in the back. It was comfortable enough, and it was quick to clean up if Bex barged in demanding a shower in the morning.

So why did Cammie need to sleep in a bathtub? Well we all wish the answer was as simple as, there weren't enough beds. Or it was a dare. No. Cammie needed to sleep here, for the sake of her sisters.

She had night terrors. Violent ones. She often woke up thrashing and screaming bloody murder. Her body would twitch and she would dry heave until she got over the shock.

So all in all, she was way too loud or violent to sleep in the same room as Bex, Liz and Macey. When she had slept in her former bed at the very beginning of the year, she had woke up screaming and crying in the middle of the night, much to her sister's dismay. But being the good friends they were, they comforted her and cared for her. But then Cammie noticed that they were getting tired. Bags formed under their eyes and they slipped in their classes. So out of guilt, she moved to the bathroom, even though they insisted it was fine. She refused and alas, here she was in a bathtub at 3 in the morning.

Cammie sighed and got up, pulling on some jeans and a sweater over her pajamas before quietly creeping outside of the dorm. She needed some fresh air.

She often did this. When she would wake up in the middle of the night, she would tire herself out or distract herself by walking or exploring the Gallagher walls.

Today she trailed along a secret passageway that had been hidden for centuries. The same passageway that Cammie had avoided for so long now, because it reminded her too much of a certain ex-boyfriend.

She ran her soft fingertips across the black walls as she slowly walked further into the blackness. Deeper and deeper into the corridor.

When she finally felt her legs cry of protest, she sat down on the surprisingly warm floor and yawned. She yawned long and hard.

She knew she was sleep deprived. She knew she wasn't as sharp as she used to be. She saw the dark purple bags form under her once bright eyes. She felt the poor posture Madame Dabney almost cried upon and she certainly felt the punches and kicks she received in P.E. when her opponent beat her. But she couldn't help it. If tiring herself out was the cost of avoiding those terrible visions, then so be it. Anything to forget.

As she pulled herself into an upright fetal position, her knees bend close to her chest and her arms tucked in between with her chin resting on her kneecap, she closed her eyes, careful not to drift to sleep.

But how could she drift to unconsciousness, when the next thing she heard was, "Hey Gallagher Girl."