A/N: Glad to see so many people reading this one and enjoying themselves. I was concerned about the possibility of a Victorious and Freddy fan but you guys proved to me that I made the right decision publishing this story.

i will try to correspond with you guys in case any of you have a question or concern.

This one's a little short but I'm dog tired.

Enjoy

;-)

Tracy ran through the hospital corridor, breathing heavy. She rounded another generic teal corner and stopped at the sight of the first familiar face: Doc.

His name was James Miller, PhD. Everyone at the shelter, including the staff, just called him Doc. No other psychologist or therapist to speak of over the years. Doc seemed to be the only one who would listen to the troubled fallout of Springwood.

"DOC!" the blonde woman shouted as she ran. He locked eyes with her and walked towards her, using his larger frame to stop her. He knew from her past sessions if you want to stop Tracy, go for the shoulders, never the wrists. Her biggest trigger was physical contact, but the wrists specifically were a nasty one.

"Tracy, what are you doing here?" he asked solemnly in his usual measured tones.

"What do you mean?" she bit back, breaking free from the restraint. "Where is she?"

"I meant how you found out about…"

Tracy bit her lip, looking around. She was acting like she did when she first came to the shelter as a teenager. You almost couldn't tell the difference between now and then with the exception of less teen angst in her wardrobe and a slightly shorter haircut.

"I," she sighed. "Had a nightmare."

Doc narrowed his eyes in that analytical way she couldn't stand. "Like…that?"

"Like that," she swallowed.

"Tell me what you remember about it."

Doc gestured two chairs in the hall and they say down.

"Okay," Tracy began. "I saw Maggie…and…she was driving…it was raining…"

Her (not really) former therapist nodded for her to continue.

"There was a flat tire…she tried to fix it but…but…but…" A single tear fell from Tracy's face and Doc leaned in.

"And then what?" he asked.

"A truck hit her."

Doc looked away, staring into space, covering his mouth.

Tracy tilted her head. "She's dead isn't she?"

Doc nodded hesitantly. "They found her on the side of the road. No evidence to support a tractor trailer or anything else hit her. But," he felt like he was going to hyperventilate or something. At his age it could be anything. "But her body was consistent with the kind of thing you were describing."

"Oh god," Tracy covered her mouth and begun to sob. "Is he…is he back?"

Doc rubbed his hands together, looking down at the floor.

"I don't know," he said.

"Not the answer I was hoping for."

Tori felt a pillow hit her in the head and she groaned.

"Hey, Tori!" a lyrical though loud voice called out.

The Latina muttered something and stayed in slumberland.

Suddenly, an overwhelming chill shocked Tori awake and she looked around. Standing over her was a smirking Jade, holding a cup in one hand and brandishing an ice cube in the other.

"Awake now?" the Goth asked.

"Damn it Jade" Tori yawned. "I was finally asleep."

Jade felt bad after she said that. "You really couldn't get back to sleep?"

"It was awful," Tori said brushing back her hair. "Every time I went back to sleep, it's like he was waiting for me."

The pale girl's eyes widened as she sat next to her girlfriend. "He?"

"There was a man…in this" Tori held out her arm as if she was imagining the place in front of her. "This…huge boiler room. I've never seen anything like it." Tori stopped after that.

Jade held her hand, making Tori comfortable to continue.

"There was smoke and steam everywhere. I couldn't see…you can't breathe…my clothes were stuck to my body."

Normally Jade would have made a joke about a scantily clad Tori in severe humidity. But she understood this wasn't the best time.

"And what happened, Tori?" Jade felt her hand getting squeezed. Hard.

"There was this horrible man. His face…his face was…burned or something. He was like a monster. He wore a hat and a striped sweater."

Jade's blue-green eyes were lit up. Her heart felt like it was clinched in a steel trap. She felt like she was going to be a little ill, actually.

"Jade?" Tori looked concerned at the girl who looked even paler than usual. "Are you okay?"

She was startled when Jade stood up like a shot.

"Fine," she said. "I'm fine." Jade licked her lips. Tori could tell she had something on her mind.

"Jade…"

"Lookit, I'm gonna get a shower. You can get one when I'm done."

Tori remained sitting on the bed, dumbstruck with what just happened long after Jade left the room.

Tracy walked around Maggie's empty office. Her desk was almost non-existent with piles of opened books and file folders. This dump was lucky to have someone so dedicated. She was lucky, too to have someone like Maggie look out for her.

She pushed Tracy to seeing Doc in the beginning. And it was only in those long, tough sessions she was able to break through her defenses. Tracy's abrasive exterior was masking a lot of pain stemming from the never-ending sexual abuse at the hands of her father.

Every now and then, she would have the occasional night terror. But it used to be a lot worse. Post-traumatic flashbacks were not uncommon and the bad dreams were pretty much every night. It was difficult her Tracy to get close to anyone in any form. It was understandable, Maggie explained to her, when somebody so close to you harms you on a constant basis.

She did eventually make enough strides to have the beginning of a real boyfriend in a boy named Carlos. They never kissed or even held hands. But everyone could see she was slowly getting territorial of the boy. Carlos had his own demons, too. He was physically abused to the point of having to wear a hearing aid. For him, it was his mom.

He wasn't the brightest or the most handsome guy in the world, but there was a sincerity there that was inviting. And she also liked how he wasn't afraid of a strong girl. In fact, she got the sense that he was turned on by her being in control.

Sadly, Tracy would never know his true potential as relationship material. That bastard Freddy killed him and what's more, managed to erase his entire memory from everyone. It was bad enough that he was gone but to be the only one who would miss him was the worst. She would cry now and then when the memories would return but Tracy couldn't explain what she was sad about when asked.

Tracy shook her head from being lost in nostalgia.

Somebody from the county called earlier that day, wondering who was going to take over management of the youth recovery shelter. Tracy considered filling the position. She recently finished graduate school. The blonde woman would stare at her hung diplomas in disbelief. One minute she didn't know if she was going to go the way of prostitute or junkie or both. The next, Maggie is helping her fill out enrollment and financial aid paperwork. Next thing she knew, Tracy was a college grad. She thought that would show the pile of shit who dared call himself "father."

Tracy certainly had the credentials with her major in psychology and minor in education. Her own personal experience in the system implanted skills of empathy that are quite beneficial. There were plenty of nice people in this thankless line of work but they usually say such condescending things like "I understand" but they really don't. They sympathize. That's the problem. Someone like Tracy could relate; that's the difference.

Before she was going to formally accept anything at this point, there was some very important business she had to handle first. She smiled to herself for a second, realizing if she tried to explain what was going on to a stranger, that person would call the men in white coats.

But it didn't matter how crazy this was. She had to take care of business.

Family business.

Tracy picked up the phone and rifled through Maggie's rolodex and found the contact at the adoption agency. After a few rings, an older woman answered.

"Yes, hi" Tracy casually greeted. "I am calling from Springwood Youth Shelter."

"What can I do to help you, Miss?" the lady asked.

"I need information regarding a Jadelyn West," Tracy sat down at the desk, searching for a pad and pen. "Placed into the system roughly seventeen years ago."

"I'm sorry Miss but we cannot disclose…"

"I think you can make an exception for me" Tracy's tone getting more stern.

"And what makes you think…"

"Because I'm her sister." She leaned back, knowing that would shut her up.