A/N and disclaimer: Wow, an update after over three years. I'm somewhat proud even if this is a short chapter. Enjoy and with any luck the next chapter will be written quicker than this one. I own nothing of course except the characters of Beverly, Julie, Jay, Doug and Joseph.

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In a small, slightly run-down house across town Joseph was leaning back in a faded arm chair and his eyes closed as the alcohol finally took him into sleep. The bottle that was still clutched in his hand remained balanced on the arm of the chair even as his breathing slowed and evened out. It was the sound of the television suddenly turning itself on that managed to wake him. "What th' hell?" he said, lifting his head back up to glance over at the offending piece of equipment. All traces of drunken sleepiness disappeared in a cold shiver of fear as he saw the silhouette of the person in front of the television.

"Evening, Joseph."

Fear coursed through Joseph as he knew without a doubt who was there. Though he had never heard the man speak, no one else could sound so evil with only two words. He sat up a little straighter, swallowed and then tried to pull up what courage he had left. "I knew you'd come eventually," he said, not taking his eyes off of Freddy. "What took you so long?"

"My own reasons. You needed to serve a purpose."

Joseph was confused. "What purpose? To be the town drunk? To be looked down on by the entire town where I've spent my life?"

Freddy laughed and moved to sit on the television. "Ha! Every town needs someone that they can feel better than. You took over that role that I used to hold." He grinned and clicked his claws together for a moment. "But you did something more important than that. You listened and remembered."

It took a moment for the words to sink in but when they did Joseph's eyes widened and he gasped. "The children," he whispered.

"That's right! My children. You listened to their stories even though not a single other adult in Springwood believed them."

Joseph shook his head in disbelief. "I don't think I believed them either at the time. But I knew Nancy from when she was little."

"Ah Nancy," Freddy said, his voice almost purring. "That little bitch held on longer than I gave her credit for. Too bad she was such a gullible kid."

Remembering the bottle in his hand, Joseph took a drink and nodded. "I was at her funeral. It was a closed casket but I knew then she'd been telling the truth." It had been a hard day for him, finally accepting that everything Nancy had told him was indeed the truth. There was no other way to explain her early death. But that still didn't explain the purpose Freddy had mentioned, unless… Joseph shivered. "You meant for me to tell that history to someone."

Freddy laughed, the manic sound echoing through the house. "Not just someone, Joe, to the one person who could actually give me a challenge."

Joseph remembered the three people, not much older than kids, who had come to talk to him in the bar. Two men and a young woman. They had been so insistent on learning what they could about the boiler room fire and Fred Krueger, the woman in particular. Hadn't she mentioned that she had seen an image of Freddy in her dreams?

Had the simple retelling of history brought this nightmare back to Springwood?

His face must have shown his thoughts more clearly than he knew. Freddy stood and sauntered over to pat him on the head with his gloved hand, the blades very close to Joseph's ear. "Oh, don't worry. Your little storytelling session didn't bring me back. You just passed it on to the right person. It was you, Joe, that kept me alive all these years in your own memory." With that statement he broke into another bout of hysterical laughter.

I did this…Joseph thought, his heart sinking. Because of me the killings will start again. And I delivered three more kids to him, as if I'd put them on a silver platter. The guilt set in and he knew that it would never go away, not even if he lived through this night. He tried to rally and looked up at Freddy, his expression defiant. "So you can't kill me. You need me to make sure there's someone who will remember you."

"And they say I have a massive ego." Freddy laughed and walked toward the door that led to one of the bedrooms. "After I'm done here, there's not a single soul in Springwood that will be able to forget me." A knocking on the other side of the door made Joseph jump slightly and Freddy grinned. "So I don't need you anymore. But there's someone here who'd like to see you again." As the knocking became so loud that Joseph wanted to cover his ears Freddy opened the door and Joseph cried out in terror, pushing himself as far back into the chair as he could get.

"Why didn't you believe me, Joseph?" the corpse of Nancy Thompson asked him, reaching out.

"No…I didn't kill you, Nancy," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't know until you died that he was real."

The corpse shuffled toward him, still reaching out and seeming to not hear him. "Why? I could still be alive, Joseph."

Fear paralyzed him and he found that all he could do was shake his head and tremble. The corpse finally came close enough to touch him and did so, still asking her question in that wavering familiar voice. The fright was too much for Joseph's overtaxed heart and he felt the pain shoot through his chest and left arm. "I didn't mean to," he managed to gasp as he felt blackness taking over.

As he struggled for his last few breaths, the corpse disappeared and there was Freddy, leaning close to him. "You know what the road to hell is paved with, Joe. Now die like a good little boy so Daddy can go play."

In the world outside of dreams Joseph's hand slackened and let go of the bottle of vodka. It hit the floor with a dull thunk, the last of it spilling out to soak into the carpet. Wishing he'd left Springwood years ago or drunk himself to death earlier, Joseph, drunk and town legend keeper, died.