*NOES belongs to Wes Craven/New Line Cinema.

*'Dirty Dancing' (1987) belongs to Eleanor Bergstein and Artisan Entertainment*

*'Rogue' and the 'X-Men' belong to Stan Lee/Marvel (to my knowledge Rogue made her debut with Marvel in 1981)*

The ability to play them like puppets belongs to me, mwah ha haaa!

Chapter 7

To say Max was surprised was an understatement. He had thought once Nancy Thompson had gotten the hell out of Springwood she would never set foot here again. Yet here she was on his doorstep, past midnight and with a stranger in tow.

This should be interesting.

"Um, yeah it's been a while. C'mon in." Max eyed Gwen warily as she stepped over the threshold, had Nancy spilled his secret to this woman? If so, could she be trusted to keep it? He tightened his bathrobe and followed the two women into the small lounge. Nancy settled on the small sofa, Gwen sitting next to her, tucking her legs underneath herself. Max took the opportunity to escape into the kitchen to clear his head a bit, "you guys want coffee?"

Both women nodded and Max padded into the kitchen.

XXX

Max's apartment was your standard duplex on the edge of town, to say the interior was basic was being kind. It screamed bachelor, though only Max's nearest and dearest knew that he had a wife and baby girl back in Detroit. It had been through searching for a way to keep a roof over their heads that had brought him to Springwood, and to Westin Hills.

At the beginning, it had been easy work. Look after the patients, make sure everyone took their meds and keep the conversation light to take some of the load off. He got on well with the staff and had even made a few good friends, though there was one asshole, Lorenzo, always harassing the female patients and walking round like he was the shit. Apart from that, the job was a well paid walk in the park.

Then a new patient arrived at Westin Hills; Nancy Thompson.

This kid had been through a lot, shit, she had been to hell and back. Though some would say she wasn't back yet as she claimed to be stalked in her dreams by an un-dead serial killer. As you do. Max had been working on the South Wing then and had gotten to know Nancy for the short time he was there. She was twitchy as hell when she was brought in; pale and thin, wouldn't eat and constantly pouring cup after cup of that damn coffee down her neck. The girl looked like shit, all dark eye shadows and chewed up hair. The stress of the past few months had given her a premature grey streak around the front of her hairline, Max secretly thought this was cool, though never said so to her face. Thought she looked a bit like 'Rogue' from those X-Men comics.

After a few weeks Nancy began to open up. Max already knew her background, some kind of suicide pact going on with her friends and her Mom fried herself when she fell asleep bombed with a lit cigarette. Her Pop was a lost cause, ex-Lieutenant who now spent his time propping up the bars in Springwood. Not that propping up bars was an un-familiar pastime for half the parents in Springwood, either that or they were closet alcoholics at home. Fucked-up town. Max was more interested on how this girl was going to come out the other end of this mess, or if she ever would. Poor fucking kid.

They talked about a lot of things during his time on shift, though always about him. His family, his home town, what he was like as a kid. High School was off limits, as was any attempt to pry into Nancy's past or ask her anything about Springwood. Triggers, that's what those types of questions were. He knew what the Docs had been saying about the kid, trying to blame some kind of dream serial killer for killing her friends and her Mom. Totally fictional, of course. Max himself had looked up this 'Fredrick Krueger' in the Springwood library and there was no trace whatsoever. The only good thing to come from that trip was he could now say he had stepped foot inside a library. They were now treating her with a drug Dr Parker was keeping under-wraps, some pill that messed with her dreams. Max felt the less he knew about this the better, especially when he and two others had been taken into Parker's office and made to sign papers stating any mention of said 'dream pill' was off limits. This thing would go to the grave with them, and with Dr Parker.

So things had plodded along nicely, until the day came when his world almost went down the john.

He didn't know why, but he remembered it was a Tuesday afternoon. There was nothing special to remind him, but things had been getting on top of him with trying to make ends meet and support his wife. The double shifts he was working weren't helping matters. Max was a pretty moral guy, but he was known to loosen the thread from time to time. There was no one around when he had gone into the medical lock up, there was no one around when he had unlocked the upper right cabinet which held the legal, FDA approved stimulants, but as he slipped them into his pockets Nancy was suddenly at the door, eyes flicking between him and the hand in his pocket.

He was fucked.

Or so he had thought. Nancy had kept quiet, and he had no idea why. He owed her his job and the roof over his and his families head. After that Max had been transferred to another ward at Westin and the last he heard of Nancy she was out and relocated. He had sent a silent prayer wishing her the best.

Now here she was.

XXX

Max laid the coffee out on the table and sat back in his chair. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, the only sounds were the passing of the odd car outside and rustling as Gwen fidgeted in her seat, hands twisting. Both she and Max breathed a sigh of relief when Nancy finally spoke.

"We're sorry to burst in on you like this Max, and we're also sorry about how late it is," at this, Gwen nodded in agreement, "but we wouldn't be here if we didn't need your help. The prob-"

"Yeah I'd say it's a bit of a shock Nancy. This was the last place I thought I'd ever see you again. I don't mind you being here, what's bugging me is you keep saying 'we', now I know who you are but could you introduce me to your friend here?"

Nancy cheeks coloured bright red at this as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "Max I'm sorry about that, this is Gwen Stanton, you know her brother, William?"

Once again, Max's mouth gaped as he looked over at Gwen, "You're Will's sister?" he looked her over for a few moments, "Yeah, I can see the resemblance in the eyes, a little in the mouth too. How come I've never seen you at Westin?"

"Long story." Gwen replied curtly. Translation: Don't ask.

"So you a 'Dungeons and Dragons' freak too? I'm telling you, you kids got to blame your parents for smoking too much of that trippy shit in the sixties."

Gwen laughed at this, her tension easing off a little, "Nah man, Will's the D and D pro, I couldn't get my head round that shit if you paid me. All those spells, chants and whatever; drove me nuts." She emphasised this by making an explosion with her hands over her head.

"So why are you ladies here? You guys should be getting some shut eye to be waiting in line to see that dancing film everybody's talking about, the one where they put a baby in the corner?"

Gwen snickered, "Nah, they put Baby in a corner, that's her name. Wish I had moves like that, I tell yo-"

"So," a clearly irate Nancy cut in, causing the other two to jump, "sorry to be blunt and all, but like I was saying before, the problem with your kids at Westin Max has got nothing to do with their minds stability, or supposed lack of. It's Fred fucking Krueger Max, he's back."

Max looked Nancy dead in the eye before he put down his coffee cup and made to get up from his chair, "I'm going to need something stronger for dealing with this shit."

XXX

I know, I know, another Freddy-less chapter, but necessary for the plot. This should be wrapped up by chapter 12 or so, perhaps sooner.

Lara xx