Nancy was slightly disappointed when she didn't see Lance again after school. By the time she exited the building, his bike was already gone. She hadn't seen Eliza either, but oh well. It wasn't until she was coasting down the sidewalk on her bike did she spot that familiar head of black hair.

"Hey!" she shouted so that she could hear her over the music playing through her earphones as she halted and dismounted her bicycle.

Eliza jumped three feet, but then smiled when she saw who spoke.

"Oh, hey Nancy," she said as she removed the right bud from her ear, "What's up?"

"Just on my way home. I saw you walking and thought I'd join you. Do you live close by?"

"Yeah. I live on Elm Street."

"No shit! So do I! Which house?"

"1408. What about you?"

"Number 1428, just a couple blocks further down."

"That's awesome! We oughta hang sometime."

"Definitely. But you'll have to go through my dad first. I may not exactly make friends often, but when I do, Dad needs to make his "evaluation" first."

"Aha, I see. Is your dad, like, super-parental when it comes to being a parent?"

"Yeah, kind of; you can say that. He's a cop… well, used to be a cop, anyway, so that's part of his whole deal." She almost mentioned the tight security on her house, the bars on the windows, but bit it back; she didn't want to scare her quite so soon.

"Used to be a cop?" Eliza parroted, her eyebrows creasing, "What happened? Is he not one anymore or something?"

"Kind of," Nancy replied, shrugging, "He got badly injured several months back, now he has a little trouble moving around and stuff, so now he works a desk job at the Station."

"Ah. I see."

Soon, they reached the house numbered 1408, a two story white house with green shutters on the windows and a pale green door.

"Well, here's my stop," said Eliza as she approached the house, then stopped to turn back to Nancy, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Nancy smiled and waved, "Bye."

"Bye, bye."

Nancy then got back onto her bike and Eliza unlocked and entered the house.

When Nancy finally arrived at her own house, she saw an extra car parked on the driveway besides her father's. Roman was there. Upon entering the house through the garage, she discovered Roman in the living room with his little boy, Timothy, stacking Lincoln Logs with Spongebob Squarepants on the TV. In the kitchen was Roman's wife Candice, stirring tea in a pitcher.

"Nancy!" Candice squealed when she saw her, rushing to her to pull her into a hug.

Candice was one of the only few people Nancy would allow herself to be touched by, much less hug, besides Roman and her dad. Candice had to be the closest thing to a girl-friend Nancy ever had.

"Timmy?" Candice called into the living room, "Why don't you come give Nancy a hug?"

Timothy looked up at Nancy and crinkled his nose, shaking his head, and continued playing with his Logs.

Candice laughted and shook her head, her hands on her hips. "Barely three years old and he's already entered the "girls are gross" phase. Oh well."

"I'm sure one day you'll wish he'd never gotten out of that phase," said Nancy, jabbing Candice with her elbow. "Where's my dad?" she then asked.

"He's grilling out in the backyard," answered Candice. Then while pouring the tea into glasses filled with ice, "Want some iced tea?"

"Sure, thanks." Nancy took her drink, sipping down the cool sweet liquid, then went out the back door.

Outside, a table had been set out with a white cloth with a blue plaid grid design printed on it and plates set all around on top. As Candice had said, her dad was out there, cooking hot dogs on the grill.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey Nancy."

"So what's with the gourmet spread?"

Donald's brow creased. "Roman's birthday. Don't tell me you forgot?"

Nancy's mouth made O and she slapped her forehead like she could have had a V8. "Crap," she gasped, "I guess I did."

"Well, don't worry, I made sure to write both of our names on his present," he said in his usual dry humor, followed by a smug grin and wink.

Nancy stuck out her tongue and gave a wink of her own. "I'll leave you to your pig-roasting now." Then she went back inside.

She walked into the living room to hug Roman around his neck. "Happy birthday, Roman," she said.

"Thanks Nancy," said Roman, his hand squeezing her arm, "How was it goin' back to school?"

"Lame, same as always. It's good to be back to normal."

"Well that's good to hear."

Nancy returned to the kitchen to assist Candice with the rest of dinner. She cut the veggies to make the salad, while Candice drained the water out of the pots with peas and corn cobs. They brought the food out and set it on the table.

"Dogs are ready!" Donald announced as he stacked the steaming franks onto a platter. He started to move towards the table with the plate held balanced on one hand, while his other was supporting his body's weight onto his cane.

"Hold on there, old man," said Nancy as she snatched the platter away and set it on the table herself, "Let me take that before somebody gets hurt."

Donald smirked and gave her a gentle thump on the noggin with the curve of his cane. "I've told told you before, Princess, I may walk with a cane, but you're not to call me old 'til I start sprouting grays."

"Mhmm. Wait, what's this?" Nancy then said, her eyes squinting as she reached up towards her father's head and pinched her fingers as if she were plucking something off, "Oh, my mistake, just some dust."

Donald smirked and thumped her again, then limped to his seat at the table.

Nancy about wanted to cry most times when she saw her father walking with his cane. She herself had broken her leg and her thigh had been impaled by a piece of wood, yet she healed perfectly, the wound in her thigh apparently not deep enough to cause any truly severe damage to the muscles, whilst her father had ended up with a limp and needed to walk with a cane in order to remain upright. This was something she didn't expect to see until he was at least in his sixties. As such, she started referring to him as "old man".

It took some work to pry Timothy out of the the living room, away from his toys, into the backyard. Only after the promise of hot dogs and cake for dessert did he comply. He was such a picky eater, he took the frank out from its bun and peeled the skin off before eating it. Then when Candice brought out the cake, Timothy almost crawled on top of the table to get to it; his dad had to hold him back. When he finally did get his slice, he was practically shoveling it into his mouth; chocolate crumbs and icing coated his face.

All in all, it had been quite a day.

Jesus Christ, it's been a long time since i've updated this!

So sorry you guys. I've been going through HELL trying to figure out the plot to this story that it's inhibiting me from deciding just what's going to happen next :(

Part 1 was easy (atleast easier) because I was able to build off of the plot of the original film. Part 2 is by FAR more difficult because it isn't based on ANY of the films of the original series; it'll contain loads of homages, bits and pieces from the movies, but the plot is a 100 % original concoction (kind of like the sequel to Rob Zombie's Halloween), which may sound awesome but brings its own set of challenges X( The biggest challenge is riding the line between creating a totally original story, yet keeping faith with the original Freddy movies we all know and love, between a psychological thriller of Aronofsky proportions and the old school slashers of the 80s. Another thing is all these character developing scenes, like these last couple chapters; they are totally crucial for building the story, but godDAMN they're boring. I don't know if they're boring to read, but damn are they boring to write XP Hence why this chapter I just rushed to just finish it and get it the hell out of the way.

Which brings me to a point i would like to gain the opinion from you, the readers: how much would you hate me if I (or Freddy anyway) killed Lance? how horrifically tragic would that be?