"Order up!" The bell rang simultaneously as a gruff voice called out. Sansa power walked to the window where the cooks placed the finished orders and grabbed the three plates. The customers had already complained once and she did not want to give them any more reason to be displeased with her.

She had worked at Nancy's truck stop since she was sixteen years old and though it certainly wasn't becoming more pleasant, there was a certain ease and confidence with which she now walked the small length behind the bar. She smiled through their frowns and handed out generous assurances. She recommended the special, she sold milkshakes and desserts. She was an excellent waitress.

She was an excellent waitress.

Something inside of her twitched in displeasure, but she pushed the feeling down and smiled at the filthy trucker who had introduced himself to her earlier as Rick, as he banged his coffee cup on the counter for a fifth refill. "I'll be right there," but when she turned to the coffee machine she allowed herself a hateful grimace. A laugh boomed from the kitchen, through the window, Sandor Clegane, the cook, tilted his head back in laughter, his grin a macabre display of the pink scarring which covered half of his face. The half that faced Sansa, in fact. She turned away, her heartbeat rising. She hated being the center of his jokes. She hated this stupid job and this stupid town.

She sighed and tried to paste the cheerful look back on as she turned to face Rick.

"Some crazy stuff, ain't it?" he nodded his head towards the TV in the corner. Onscreen ambulances and police lights flashed.

"What's going on?" Sansa asked.

"Some guys escaped the psych ward up in Lawrence, ate some gas station clerks face right off," Rick smiled, raising his eyebrows, gauging her reaction as if gaining some pleasure from her unease, the douche bag.

"My goodness," Sansa managed to get out, her face cool. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her worry.

"Makes you glad to live in a small town like this, don't it?"

She smiled thinly at him and then retreated to the back. The other customers would have to wait a few minutes. As soon as she passed through the swinging door, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Robb. He answered on the forth ring.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Her brothers confused and drowsy voice instantly soothing her worry. "You know it's 1:30 in the morning, right?"

"I'm sorry, I'm at work. I saw something on the news, escapees from the insane asylum are killing people!"

"You're working third shift? At the truck stop? Jesus, Sansa," she could hear the agitation filling his voice.

"Robb, stop. I have bills to pay. I want to talk about you. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine. You have bills to pay? I thought the disability and SSI was enough. Is something else going on? I can't believe Mom is letting you work there overnight. I am calling her first thing tomorrow to ask her what this is about. "

"Don't you dare, Robert Stark. You know as well as I that she has enough worries of her own. Now look, I just called to make sure you were alright. Please, be careful until those crazies are caught!" With that she hung up the phone. Her brother had some nerve. Didn't he realize that she had to work here, that it was in fact for him that she did it. He had better not call mother. It would upset everything.

She stood there a few moments, letting the anger melt away. A cough startled her out of her thoughts. She turned, looking into Sander's face, the good half. "Customers out there," he muttered, nodding his head towards the door. Sansa took in a deep breath and walked back out.

The rest of the night past in a blur, another typical night at Nancy's. And when Jane walked in to relieve her at six, she smiled her first genuine smile all night. As she turned to head out the door, she glanced back into the kitchen, right into Sandor's intense stare. Their eyes locked and for a moment she was terrified to look away but in one slick move she slipped on her jacket and practically ran out the door. Who did that guy think he was anyway? Always creeping her out, staring at her and saying weird things to her. To reiterate: she hated this job.

Her mother was already awake and making coffee when she arrived home. She had always been an early riser but Sansa had noticed that ever since the accident, her mother seemed to get less and less sleep each day. It worried her and she had broached the subject with her mother on more than one occasion but was always met with far less than cooperation.

"Good morning," she said, kissing her mother on the cheek.

"You look so tired, dear," her face wore concern.

"Don't worry, I'm going to have a nap right now before my classes start. I'll be fine." Sansa could see her mother was not convinced but she kept on through to the staircase and made her way up to bed. She really was tired.

Two hours later, when her alarm went off, it felt as if she had only just laid down. Still, she opened her eyes and forced her body out of it. Ten minutes later, she was out the door and headed to the local community college for her anatomy and physiology class. She was only 12 credits away from being eligible to sit for the nursing boards. She smiled at the thought of leaving Nancy's and all that came with it, behind in the dust. The goal is what kept her awake through that class and the next one.

This time, Rick and Bran greeted her from the front lawn as she pulled into the driveway. Rick ran in circles around her as she walked. She paused at the porch, glancing at Bran, she fought the urge to help him and continued up. He had made it perfectly clear that he could wheel himself.

"Momma's making cookies tonight!" Bran told her at the door. She smiled.

"I'm going upstairs now. I need a-"
"A nap, yeah, yeah we all know," Rick finished for her, obviously disappointed.

She frowned but the guilt didn't stop the exhaustion from taking over. She woke with an hour to spare before she had to be back at Nancy's. Her mother was pulling a steaming plate of food from the microwave just as she sat down. She set the plate in front of Sansa. "Robb called."

"Hmph," was all Sansa could reply, since she had immediately shoved a huge forkful of the casserole into her mouth.

"He said that Nancy's is dangerous at night, that derelicts and vagabonds hang around there."

Sansa narrowed her eyes and swallowed. "Mom."

"He said that those truck drivers are not to be trusted. They come from all over the country and,"

"Mom. It's perfectly safe. You know that Clegane is there with me," her mother shuddered at the name and she thought maybe that hadn't been a great choice to mention the fact. She continued anyway, "He's a good man, mom."

And she tried to believe it as she grabbed her coat and headed out to her car.