A/N – I think this is the first thing I've written that I've specifically classified as "hurt/comfort." This is another in my "Ferb/Vanessa Friendship" series. The "flashback"/memory structure was a real battle this time; I hope it came out more or less all right. All the characters except for Andy Arden belong to Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh.

Dream Date Nightmare – Part One

Vanessa stumbled through the twisting corridors, heart pounding, pulse racing, panic driving her forward. She was in what was supposed to be the high school, but everything was mixed up and unfamiliar. It was night, lights were dim and unsteady, and the occasional flicker of brightness only lured her to another locked door or stairway to nowhere. Rough voices, their words unintelligible, echoed in the depths of the building, and hulking shadows – whether of men or beasts, she couldn't tell – haunted the edges of her vision. She found a passage that promised escape, but the farther into it she went, the more narrow it grew, until it ended in a wall. Frustration choking her, she pounded her fists against the barrier. She could sense the shadows and echoes closing in, then rough arms clamped around her, pushing her against the bricks and pinning her there. She could feel the hot breath of her attacker, his full weight pressed against her back, trapping her, crushing her. She tried to wrestle herself free, but he only tightened his grip and muttered indecipherable taunts, his sweltering cheek pressed against hers. Vanessa could feel herself screaming, forcing the breath from her throat, but no sound came. Convulsing, she strained with all her might to cry out, to shout, to shriek, but she could make no sound. All she could do was think NO! NO! NO!…

With a jolt, she awoke. Wild eyed, she struggled to sit up, fighting her way out of a cocoon of flannel and linen. Sweaty and shaking, she was confused for a moment by her unfamiliar surroundings, then her head began to clear. She was in Candace's room, in Candace's bed, wearing Candace's spare nightgown. The sound of soft, steady breathing prompted her to look to the floor, where Candace slumbered peacefully in her nest made of air mattress and sleeping bags. Vanessa was glad she hadn't awakened the other girl. Kicking away the covers, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. Even though her brain knew she had just had a bad dream, her body still trembled, and she shuddered at the sensations she couldn't yet shake off.

Vanessa hadn't even wanted to go to the stupid Prom. Her punk friends had blown it off as lame, and it wasn't as if she had a boyfriend to go with. But her mother had made this huge deal out of it, insisting that decades from now, when Vanessa was in a rocking chair at the Old Folks' Home, the greatest regret of her life would be not going to her Senior Prom, and the girl had finally given in. Mom had even found her a date. Some other woman on the Tri-State Area Arts Commission had a son Vanessa's age who was graduating from a suburban high school on the other side of Danville. He was a Nice Boy from a Nice Family, and he was going away in the fall to some exclusive private university en route to becoming a brain surgeon or rocket scientist or something. He was probably a big dork, thought Vanessa, but she had agreed to meet him for coffee, as a sort of preliminary interview.

Andy Arden had turned out not to be a big dork. He was tall and not bad looking, with dark, wavy hair and gray eyes. He was Captain of the swim team, and President of the French club, and Vanessa had found him pleasant company. Their Prom Date had started off encouragingly. He had picked her up in his Dad's sleek sports car, and taken her to dinner at Piccolo, arguably still Danville's trendiest restaurant. Sure, the portions were tiny, but the atmosphere was unmatched. By the time they had reached the high school gymnasium, Vanessa had found herself actually having fun. Andy loved to dance as much as she did, and he was good at it, too. He had waited on her hand and foot, bringing punch and refreshments every time she had expressed the desire to get off her feet for a bit. When she had first noticed that she was feeling light-headed, he had fussed over her with concern – almost too much concern, she realized now. She couldn't remember exactly when he had escorted her outside, or suggested a ride home, but somewhere on the walk to the car, she had become conscious of him holding on to her a bit too insistently, furtively glancing around himself as he steered her away from the lights and into the shadows. Amidst the gathering haze that was enveloping her brain, a faint alarm had gone off and she had instinctively pried herself from his grasp. What she remembered after that was a jumble of sensations, jagged bricks scraping her back as she was shoved against a wall, rough hands groping and pawing at her, Andy's gray eyes turning cold and steely, his voice hissing out harsh words as she tried to resist. Vanessa had always thought she was smart enough and tough enough to fight her way out of something like this, but her head was reeling and her fists and elbows flailed aimlessly. Seizing her wrist, Andy had twisted one arm behind her back and stifled her cries with his mouth. Somehow she had found his foot with her own and had driven her stiletto heel down onto it as hard as she could. He had barked out in pain, his grip faltering enough to let her wrench free. Vanessa's fingers had fumbled for the pendant she wore, and with a fleeting thought of This had better work! she had squeezed it.

Recoiling from her, Andy had howled out loud and clamped his hands to his skull. Stumbling away from him as fast as her unsteady legs could carry her, Vanessa had bolted for the safety of the gym. She had scoffed when her father had given her the Brain-Freeze-Inator in the guise of a harmless piece of jewelry, insisting that she wear it to the dance, "Just in case some boy thinks he can get grabby," but at that moment, all she could think was, Thanks, Dad.

Breathless, she had staggered into the gym, not even certain what she intended to do. All she had wanted was to get out of there – but how? The only prospect worse than calling her mother would have been calling Dad – although there was something tempting in the idea of him inatoring that creep Andy into oblivion. She was still shaking and starting to feel nauseous, until an unexpected wave of relief had coursed through her at the sight of Candace Flynn. Vanessa had been surprised to see the red-headed girl; Candace was a year younger than she was, and a year behind her in school. But, of course, she was there with her boyfriend, Jeremy Johnson – Vanessa was pretty sure that was his name; he was the blond guy who had once given her Dad guitar lessons. Drawing a few glares and mutters, Vanessa had pushed her way through the other couples to reach them. Whatever she looked like, Candace and Jeremy had reacted in alarm to her appearance, and had each gotten hold of one of her arms and steered her clear of the crowd. She had blathered out some vague, disjointed account of what had just happened, and Jeremy had said at once, "Come on, we'll take you home." Candace had waited inside with her while Jeremy brought his car around. Vanessa wouldn't have considered the other girl a close friend, although they had developed a pleasant acquaintance. But Candace had put a sympathetic arm around her, asking if she was all right, and keeping up a soothing patter of reassurance until they were all in the car. Only at this point had Vanessa turned to her and said, "I don't want to go home. Can we go to your house?"

Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher had been wonderful to her. Mr. Fletcher had appeared briefly when they first came in, then had discreetly removed himself as his wife took Vanessa under wing. Ferb and Phineas were nowhere to be seen. They were probably asleep; it had to be past their bedtime – although at some point later Vanessa had thought she recalled hearing a soft step on the stairs and seeing a faint shadow on the wall. With some prompting from Candace, Vanessa had told Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher as much of what had happened as she felt like recounting. "I don't know," she had admitted, recalling the accusation Andy had thrown at her, "maybe I did lead him on. We were dancing kind of close. But – it didn't mean anything."

"Of course not," Candace's mom had soothed her. "Some boys will take anything as an excuse to start grabbing."

"That guy was a creep," Candace had chimed in helpfully.

"Yeah," Vanessa had rubbed her aching head. "I just wish I'd picked up on it sooner."

There had been talk of what to do about Andy, but Vanessa had been too exhausted to deal with any more just then. Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher had agreed that what the girl needed right now was a good night's rest. She had even called Vanessa's mom to let her know that her daughter had come home with Candace and wanted to stay, and managed to make it sound like a harmless teenage sleepover. Thankful, Vanessa had gone upstairs with Candace. In the morning, there would be time enough to deal with things, and clearer heads with which to do it.

Continued…