A/N: I got another chapter! Sorry it took me so long, real life has been screwing me up. But a chapter! It's 1 AM here and I've been up since 5, I looked it over for any errors so hopefully I got them all. This story is actually based off of one of my semesters, the sleep deprivation symptoms were like this for me and I did get sick. Not a fun experience, especially feeling the pressure from my engineer relatives… But enough about me.

I discovered line breaks guys!

Anyways though…Let me know what you guys think of the story.

Chapter 2: Can't Breath

The blare of what feels like sirens inside his head jerks Sam awake, it takes a few seconds for his brain to realize two things: the sound isn't from inside his head, and he can't breathe. The alarm's sharp, rapid beeping creates a symphony of fog and pain in his head. Sam swears as he fumbles blindly, knocking stuff off of the nightstand between the two beds. With a final thud, his hand not only knocks off the cheap, one-bulb lamp, but shuts up the infernal beeping. Sam sniffs loudly in annoyance, but a failure to draw in a breath through his nose makes him release a frustrated groan and another string of curses. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up quickly, remembering one of Newton's laws, "An object in motion tends to stay in motion". The saying, Sam had found throughout the many years of research done late at night and early school mornings, had seemed well-founded. It was much easier to stay up late at night than to get up in the morning.

Sam grabs blindly for a random shirt out of the cheap plastic laundry basket he keeps his clothes in at his feet. Blindly as in literally, the world went black when he first stood up. He fumbled with what should have been a shirt, and brought the shirt to his nose to smell it. Sam doesn't remember the last time he showered let alone washed his meager amount of clothes. His brow furrowed in thought and mild horror, his hands stopping in contemplation of the last time he showered. He didn't feel like it had been more than two days tops… His hair was greasy and his skin felt the same and kind of itchy.

But a glance at the clock now lying sideways wedged between the nightstand and the wall through slowly returning fuzzy vision tells him it's too late to worry about that now. Sam shrugs tiredly and with what should have been a huff but came out as more of a sound than any actual release of air. He looked at the shirt, a quick smile flitted across his face as he realized it indeed was a shirt, before he tried to sniff the shirt, tried being the key word, but again, he failed to actually breathe let alone smell anything.

He grimaced a little and made a mental note not to sit too close to anyone before whipping his own off and tugging the new one on like an uncoordinated five year old. He stumbled into the corner of the bed and pinged off of it like a pingball towards the desk. A sharp pain radiates from his hip in protest even as he is yanking his charging cord out of his laptop and slinging his tore up backpack onto his back.

He snagged a thermos off the counter by his lanyard with his apartment key and school ID and filled it with coffee in the kitchen. Keys. Check. Coffee. Check. Food…..a quick glance around the small excuse for a kitchen revealed a single bagel left in the bag. He precariously balanced his laptop and thermos on his knee, with one hand to hold it steady and quickly snatched the bagel out of the bag and shoved it in his mouth so he could open the door.

It shuts with a satisfying thud even as his vision blurs and fuzzes blue and green. Sam fumbled with the deadbolt, trying to insert the key. When his vision clears, he realized the key was upside down. A self-depreciative snort makes it out between the bagel and his mouth as his head thumps the door in embarrassment. Door locked, bagel almost devoured, Sam's shaky hand fumbled with the lock on his bike. It was a code lock which turned out to be a God send. He had originally got it because it was harder to pick then a typical lock and key, but seriously appreciated it after he lost his apartment key for a week last semester.

Sam spun the combination on the lock tethering his back to the bike rack with relative ease despite one hand shoveling the last of the bagel into his mouth. Same combo as the Impala's lock box. 1187. It was the first thing that came to mind when he had been trying to think of a code. To use his apartment address would be too obvious. Sam sped cautiously down the road, even though he was in California in a pretty well-to-do area, bikes on the road weren't always given the right away as they should be. His side and ankle twinged in memory of THAT incident. Thank God or whatever deity out there that Dean and Dad weren't on his cell as his Emergency Contact. He shuddered at the thought of how that incident would have gone over.

Last of the bagel now eaten, he slid his lanyard in his gym shorts pocket and slung his leg over to ride the bike. His mind more predisposed with what class he was going to today than actually paying attention to his surroundings. The memory of the Calc homework the night before flits briefly through his mind, along with a weight that settles heavily on his shoulders and chest rather than flitting off.

He has Business Calculus today and Criminal Psychology.

Psychology gets out at 1, then he works at a local restaurant as a dishwasher until 7. Luckily, AP Psych in high school prepared him pretty well for the college class. He had a 97% overall in the class so he wasn't near so worried about it. But Business Calculus was kicking his ass. And so was the Intro to Law class. He had C's in both of them. Much to his horror. He can't afford to not get good grades on them. They will knock his GPA down. And his GPA has to stay above a 3.5 to keep his full ride. He can barely afford the hours he has to work to feed himself and pay for health insurance.

Sam shuddered as a cool breeze cut through his shirt. Goosebumps surged along his exposed skin and he hunched his shoulders to help keep some of the heat and he sniffed loudly through his nose before giving up and breathing through his mouth. The light turned red, irritation flared through him as he slowed to a careful stop, clumsy despite his best attempts. He rubbed sweaty palms against his shorts as he waited for the light to turn green. Shaky hands that were numb again and now clammy returned to the handlebars. Sam closed his eyes for a second as he waited for the light to change. Almost done with this semester. Only had to go to these classes three more times. Almost done. Static sparks charge along his skin even as he pedals through the sprinkling rain to school.

The breeze on his face helped his awareness, as did the coffee slowly churning into his blood. Sam squinted against the fog that had settled as he nears the building with his first class. Dark shapes move in his peripheral vision making him jerk the wheel to avoid something on his left. He jerks to a stop, one foot ramming into the dirt and then stumbling to keep his balance as he is hit with a vicious bout of vertigo.

Sam turned to see whatever had swooped into his vision only to realize there was nothing there. Well nothing abnormal. Just some regular students on their way to classes. He tries to take another breath through his noise but only succeeds in making a tiny whistling noise. Sam takes one last glance around before taking a breath through his mouth and pushing off towards the campus 2 miles away. It doesn't matter he can't breathe or feel his hands or think straight and he can't breathe and his chest aches and his skin tingles, because he's almost done with this semester, nine days to go.