Hi all!

Well, this story is of a more serious tone. In it, I hope to deal with a few of the issues that bugged me on Boy Meets World – the non-mention of any race issue concerning Shawn and Angela, Shawn's animosity towards Jack, Cory and Topanga's adolescent behaviour even after marriage and some of the stuff from episode 715 The War which brought out feelings of loneliness in Angela, Jack and Rachel. Of course, Eric's in this one as well!

Let's see how it goes…for the purposes of this alternate universe, I am assuming that episodes after Brotherly Shove never happened. So the setting is somewhere before The War – Cory and Topanga are married, Shawn and Angela are together, and Eric, Jack and Rachel are seniors about to graduate in four months. The Matthews live in their 'stinkhole', the apartment is occupied by Shawn, Jack and Eric and Rachel and Angela share a dorm room.

Right, are we all still on the same boat? If no one's jumped off yet, hope you enjoy the teaser!

'Angela!' called out Topanga Matthews, knocking on the dormitory door exasperatedly. 'Come on, we're going to be late for class!'

'It's ok, Angela dear. Take your time…its just Feeny anyway', came Cory's bored rejoinder. He shuffled guiltily as his wife leveled a stare at him.

The door opened to reveal a flustered Angela. She swayed slightly on her feet and the Matthews reached out in alarm. She held out a hand and smiled weakly. 'No sweat, guys. I'm fine…just been feeling a bit woozy since I woke up.'

Topanga put an arm around her best friend's shoulder concernedly, 'Are you sure? Did Rachel make you some of her famous soup for the nausea?'

Angela sighed, 'She's been great. She was ready to stay with me until you guys came but I chucked her out – she's graduating in a few months and the last thing I want is for her to focus on anything but her studies at this time.'

Cory placed a hand on her forehead and exchanged a worried glance with Topanga, 'Angela, are you sure you want to come to class this morning? You seem to be burning up, and you're shivering.'

Which was very true because Angela had her arms wrapped around herself tightly and her lower lip had begun to quiver. Topanga tried to steer her back into the room but might have been moving a mountain for all she tried.

'No…I want to come to class' protested Angela. 'It's nearly time for midterms in two weeks and I have to do well…'

Cory couldn't refrain from snorting, 'Are you kidding me? Angela, you're the topper in this class, thanks to that incredibly well-researched but alarmingly adult presentation you gave on The Use of Sexuality in DH Lawrence's Work last week. Feeny was ready to kiss your feet!'

Topanga nodded in agreement, 'I was torn between jealousy and pride, you know.'

Angela rolled her eyes, 'Thanks, I think. But seriously, just help me to class and I'll be fine later on in the day.'

Cory and Topanga moved to either side resignedly and they proceeded towards their first class of the day.

'And so we come into the great tradition of post-modernism. Indeed, if you will exert yourselves to compare the classical and neo-classical eras of world literature with today's banal work' – here, George Hamilton Feeny couldn't help a decidedly derisive shake of his head – 'you'll see why Shakespeare is revered and saluted for his enormous contribution while Stephen King is just another salmon trying to go upstream.'

A few muted protests rose at this jab but were effectively silenced by a scathing look.

'And…' continued Mr. Feeny, but the rest of his words were lost out on four students sitting towards the middle and back rows of the classroom.

Topanga was sitting next to Angela behind Cory, who was sitting behind Shawn. Angela's eyes were glazed over and her head kept lolling to one side, although she tried hard to be completely alert and pay attention to the lesson.

Her best friend was gazing at her in deep worry, and Cory was echoing her concern. Angela just seemed worse ever since they had gotten into the classroom and she'd even managed to convince Shawn that nothing was wrong.

Speaking of her boyfriend, he too was not paying attention to Mr Feeny's lecture but for an entirely different reason.

Shawn Patrick Hunter, was well on his way to dreamland.

Cory muttered under his breath and caught the eyeroll of his wife. He leaned forward and sharply flicked his best friend on the head.

'What?' came Shawn's irritated and groggy whisper. 'Are we done already?'

Cory restrained himself with difficulty, 'No you moron. You might want to take a look at Angela though.'

That got Shawn's immediate attention and he whipped his head around to look at his girlfriend. His eyes were wide as he took in her nearly collapsing form and straightaway he stood up, 'Mr Feeny, I don't think Angela is feeling well. Could I please be permitted to take her outside?'

George Feeny sighed ready to shoot back with a sarcastic remark about boyfriends and their lame excuses to get their girlfriends alone when Topanga interrupted in a voice heavy with concern, 'Please Mr Feeny, Shawn's right. She hasn't been well since this morning and she can hardly sit upright now as it is.'

Almost as if on cue, a dull thud resounded in the room as Angela's forehead connected sluggishly with the desk and she passed out.

Shawn couldn't remember later how he'd willed his legs and arms to move but after a second of paralyzing fear, he'd rushed forward and extricated Angela from the desk. He'd brushed away the helping hands of his friends and other classmates, trusting no one else with her and gathered her in his arms. Shawn had braced himself to bear her weight but he was surprised when she fairly vaulted into his arms - she was unnaturally light.

He was fairly sure his feet hadn't touched the floor at any point – before anyone could wrap their head around what had happened, he was out the door and halfway to the student medical center, his unconscious girlfriend nestled closely against his chest. He chanced a glance at her face and reeled in shock. It was pale, drawn and horribly gaunt. Angela's breathing was laboured. While her struggle tore at Shawn's heart, he nevertheless clung to that rasping rhythm as a proof of life – she was still here, with him.

And he'd be damned to hell before he ever let go of her.