A/N: On the off chance that any of you reading this are also reading my in-progress SVU/SPN story, I'm sorry. I'm sidetracked right now. No other fandoms exist to me. I will finish it, but first I will finish this. Sorry for randomly fixating!

Nothing like working out until you think your limbs are going to fall off to clear your mind! After a frigid shower, I collected my books and myself and headed for the law building on my bike. I wasn't going to be late today, not for a single class. That was the only upside to these dreams I was having. They got my day started nice and early, and I was off to campus in a timely manner.

"So..." My three-strikes project partner, the lovely Morgan Pepper, said and leaned in closer to me at the end of Julian's class.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, "What, Morgan?"

Before he could say anything awkward, Mr. Parrish stepped up with his hands in his pockets, "Want to arrange a meeting this week? Talk about what you've found? Compile our notes and the like?"

"Sounds good to me," I said.

"Thursday evening work for you two? 6pm. Library. I'll bring coffee."

"Superb," Morgan responded.

I nodded, "Excellent."

"Travis told me your mother brought him cookies." My teacher said next, catching me off guard.

"She did what?" I glared at no one in particular, imagining Wanda standing somewhere behind Julian. Then I looked at Morgan, knowing he was somehow behind this, "Why did my mother visit Travis?"

He sat up straight. I saw Julian smirking, amused by the exchange. Morgan raised his eyebrows and said seriously, "I had a date, and I couldn't make it."

"You did not." I didn't believe him for a second.

"I did. I had your lovely mother take your guitar to prison, since Travis was expecting it and all."

"You asked my mother?"

"No, she offered. I merely asked her to hold onto your guitar."

"You weren't going to tell me this? Wait...you were just going to bail on Travis?"

"You didn't ask. Are you jealous that I had a date?"

"Thusday. 6pm." Julian apparently lost interest and walked back to his desk.

"No. I don't even think you had a date. You're unbelievable."

Morgan picked up his books and his computer bag, "This sexual tension is going to ruin our academic relationship if we don't address it soon."

I didn't even know what to say, and I let him walk from the classroom. I looked at Julian and back the door. I pointed, "Did you-"

"Yes, Miss Perkins. I just witnessed that entire thing," he said from behind his desk, "You didn't get the last word."

"Because he left so quickly!" I protested.

"No, because you sat there with your mouth hanging open," he tapped his pen on his desk. "Have your mother bring me some cookies. I hear they're quite good."

"I...just...no."

"You don't seem yourself today. You aren't quite as sharp as usual. Are you tired? Have you finally eliminated sleeping because you've stretched yourself so thin? I know you haven't cut out showering." He chuckled just slightly, proud of his own clever remarks.

I left without another word. I'd let them both win, but only this once.

...

I snuck back into Cheertown to grab my guitar. It was quiet. It looked like everyone was either in class or or off working out. Regardless, I didn't want to see anyone. I still snuck down the hallway and opened the door to my room slowly and cautiously. When I made sure the coast was clear, I threw my bag onto my bed and snatched my guitar from the corner. I poked my head out and didn't hear any new sounds, so I crept back to the front door.

When I reached for the knob the door swung open and my heart sank. People.

Darwin, Frankie, and Alice stood on the other side of the threshold.

We all stood and looked at one another for several seconds. I guess I was the one making it awkward. To recover I slapped on a smile and said, "Going to prison, be back for practice."

Fucking practice.

I moved between Darwin and Frankie as fast as I could and realized that they didn't care nor have a need to know where I was going. It didn't matter. I really was the one making everything awkward. If I was even making it awkward. Everything was just awkward for me. I was fucking awkward. This whole day was shit. Every day after I woke up from those ridiculous dreams turned out to be shit. For one, I was fucking exhausted. I had to drink coffee every hour or I'd crash, and then I had to pee constantly, which is plain inconvenient.

They're just stupid fucking dreams - I kept trying to tell myself that at least.

I don't know why I was trying so hard to avoid all of the Hellcats when it was only my roommate that was really bothering me. Bothering wasn't really the correct word though. I just didn't want anyone to ask what was wrong. I didn't have the energy to lie, and I couldn't tell anyone because that would be a disaster. I don't know what made me think anyone would even notice anything was wrong. Who was I kidding? The whole bunch of bobbleheads were more concerned with themselves - too concerned to notice that I was freaking out about nothing.

I'm such an idiot sometimes.

...

"Why don't you bring your mom along with you?" Travis asked. "I prefer her to your sidekick from Julian's class."

"Wanda? No." I crossed my arms subbornly.

"I don't see why not."

"Play the guitar, Travis."

He smiled and picked it up from the case, "You have a lot in common with her."

"Don't ever say that."

He shrugged and attached the capo to the third fret. He strummed a few times then stopped and said, "Something bothering you?"

I made a face, shook my head, and responded with, "Nope, just tired."

He strummed again, "Not sleeping or not sleeping well?"

"Both."

"You work too hard."

"Says the man in prison." I retorted.

"Hey. Keep that up and I'd rather your mom come instead of you." He shook his pointer finger at me jokingly.

"Play the guitar."

He smiled again. I had to admit that he did seem a bit more chipper...as chipper as a man could be who was in prison for a crime he didn't commit. I could only imagine what Wanda did while she was here. I wanted to kill Morgan. I wanted to kill Morgan almost all the time, but now I particularly wanted to strangle him.

He stopped abruptly and eyed me across the table, "Are you having boy problems?"

I raised an eyebrow, "No."

That was a lie. Dan Fucking Patch. Lewis Fucking Flynn. They both caused problems.

Satisfied, Travis went back to the guitar.