You were almost relieved when you woke inside a boiler room, the whole place lit by a flickering red-orange as if it was engulfed in flames. The heat was intense, almost unbearable, but at least this wasn't a nightmare about Danny or anything of the sort. You glanced around and took everything in, the criss-crossing mass of pipes, the darkness above and below the silver-mesh path, the shadows here and there that seemed to shift and sway like wild beasts. They should scare you, but they don't; anything here will be much easier to deal with than anything anywhere else. You set off at a slow pace, glad that this time the metal underfoot wasn't burning you, not necessarily knowing what to do with your time in this dream state. The quiet whirr of machinery and pump of pistons was all that you heard other than the obvious tink tink tink of your footsteps on the metal pathway, generally soothing your frayed nerves. You weren't sure how much time had passed, how long you'd been walking down the straight, seemingly infinite pathway before you realized it wouldn't end.

For a minute that realization was sort of unsettling; why? But then you realized... that was okay. You were alright with being alone with your thoughts. The metal underfoot was pleasantly warm like a heated bathroom floor, and the machinery around you went on quietly, a soothing buzz like the boiler rooms heartbeat. Another few minutes passed of you walking silently, gaze set straight ahead, thinking of nothing in particular as you enjoyed not having to worry about the problems of the real world. You jump at the sudden scraping of metal, bad memories flooding back then being shut away as you spin on your heel to see Freddy.

"" Freddy's voice took on that demonic tone. You didn't like it as much as his normal voice. He smiles, and speaks again, this time normally as if he read your mind, "I'll talk normally, just for you." you smile, how sweet of him. "I am sweet, thank you." you smile morphs into a face of confusion, then realization. It's his dream world, he can hear your thoughts. That makes sense. "Smart girl, piecing that one together so easily." He lifted his bladed hand from the metal railings as he took the last few steps towards you, stopping that horrible scraping.

"Thanks for bringing me here, Freddy. I wouldn't be able to deal with... normal dreams." your smile returns as the screeching stops, and Freddy lifts his bladed hand to examine the knives.

"You didn't have the best day today, I see. What exactly happened?" Freddy crosses his arms, tilting his head as he asks. His eyes seem more or less concerned, but you can see a hint of amusement in them as well. You let out a sigh and cross your arms as well.

"Danny just... freaked out. Went absolutely batshit and I don't really understand why," you begin, staring around at the boiler room to hide the tears in the corners of your eyes. "This... this guy came and attacked us, saying he recognized Danny as Jed and that Jed killed his son. We tried to ignore him but he pulled a knife and hit me. Danny flipped." The tears finally spill over and you frantically wipe them away. "He killed him, which doesn't surprise me, but the... ferocity? When he finished with that guy and turned to me with those... crazed eyes? I thought he was going to kill me too." your voice quivered at the end of your sentence but you managed to hold in a sob, instead letting it out in a long, shaky breath. A quick gaze at Freddy showed the sympathy in his eyes once more, stronger than before.

"Sorry you had to see that Sweet- uh... Kitten." you smile weakly at his avoidance of Danny's lead nickname for you, letting out a small chuckle. "He's... not like the rest of the killers you got around here. I'm sure he had plenty of pent up bloodlust from his bad leg, too, so the sight of it sent him spiralling worse than ever." Freddy seemed hesitant, but he opened his arms in a hug, and you gratefully took it. You felt the knives on his glove brushing gently against your hair.

"Why are you... being soft?" you smile as he tenses up at the question, shaking his head.

"I'm not being soft, I'm being decent, and if you tell anyone you're-" Freddy caught himself, letting out a hiss, "Just... shut it. Don't tell a soul or you'll never get this treatment again." you hug him tighter for a moment before letting go, wiping at your eyes again. He had averted his gaze, busied himself with examining his knives as usual.

"Thank you, Freddy." just as the words were out, a fog began to spring up around you, and your vision began to go dark.

"See you in the morning, Kitten."

***

This was probably the first time you woke from the Dream State without jolting forwards and letting out a blood curdling scream. You felt well-rested, nestled into the couch cushions with blankets slung over your shoulders. You weren't sure where everyone was; it was 5 am, so they were most likely asleep. You enjoyed the warmth of your bed for one moment longer before prying yourself up and out of the covers, letting out a yawn. The first thought on your mind was 'where's Danny?' before you remembered everything. That led to another question. Would he come back at all? When? You shake your head, scattering the thoughts. You were still too tired to get up and make breakfast, so you reached over to the coffee table and grabbed your laptop (Brahms had returned it in your sleep a few days before). Lifting the top up, you quickly scanned your files for something to do. You had no active articles at the moment, and your boss was fairly impressed with your sudden improvement when it came to your writing. He said you were in the clear for now, that you wouldn't be fired if you kept up the good work.

"What to do..." you huff out, scanning for new emails. You reach instinctively to your side for your phone, on the couch cushions where you always had it while working, but your fingers met nothing but blanket.

"What?" you scan quickly around you, patting the blankets to see if it was hiding underneath, then jamming your hands down into the couch cushions to see if it was there. A creak at the doorway drew your attention and you spotted Jason standing tall as ever, holding your phone in his hand. He pointed to you, and then to your phone, silently asking 'are you looking for this?'. You smile and nod, and he hurries over to set it on the coffee table before taking a seat beside you. "Thanks, Jason." you take your phone and quickly scan through your new notifications, half hoping to see a text from Danny. When you didn't see one on the notification window you opened your phone and went to your messages just to double check- there was nothing. Your sigh is met by a tilt from Jason's head, then he pulls you into a gentle hug against his chest. "Do you think he'll come back?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at Jason's eyes through the holes of his hockey mask. The dark voids ache with concern at your sadness and fear. Jason nods, and then shakes his head, followed by an annoyed grunt. He lets you go and stands up to grab the notepad and pencil in the kitchen. Upon his return Jason quickly scribbles down one word,

'Michael'. You shake your head, and chuckle.

"No, no is Danny coming back." you clarify, but Jason wasn't confused, he just meant something else. He pointed to Michael's name again, and then began to scribble down more.

'Bringing Danny back'.

Just as you read the words there was the slam of a car door, sounds of shouting and struggle, and then the front door was unlocked and opened. Michael stomped inside, dragging Danny by his hair as the smaller man kicked and thrashed in an attempt to escape.

"Let go, Michael I can walk just fine, you-" Michael threw him to the ground and pulled out his blade, a rage in his eyes you hadn't seen before. Danny stumbled, then tripped and landed hard on his side with a groan. "Jesus fuck, man." Michael took a threatening step forwards and Danny leaped to his feet, taking one back.

"Danny." you say simply. Danny's head whips to face you as if he hadn't noticed you before, and he melts like putty.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm-" he hurries to your side, or at least tries to, but Jason covers you with an extended arm and Michael dives forwards to fasten a fist around the back collar of his shirt. Michael pulled Danny into his chest, locking him in with an arm around his throat.

"Michael, calm down!" you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Don't hurt him!" your words are forced and strained with a mixture of fear and annoyance; fear at seeing Danny and annoyance that you're scared of him now. With much reluctance Danny is released and he quickly stumbles away from Michael, massaging the skin on his neck. You stumble to your feet and hurry to Danny's side, ignoring your fight or flight as he sets off red flags.

"Sweetheart I... I'm sorry I scared you." Danny wore a sad, heartbroken smile and his eyes held the same fear as yours, the fear that he'd scared you away for good.

You don't smile or meet his gaze, desperate to change the subject, "Is your leg okay?" you try to wear a sympathetic tone but it comes out flat and dull. At least it didn't shake or break and reveal that you were fighting off the urge to break out into tears and curl into a ball on the floor.

"(Y/N)..." Danny's voice quieted to a whisper as you knelt before him to check on his leg. He cut you off, kneeling down as well and placing his hands on the side of your face, making you look at him. You averted your gaze as best as possible, "(Y/N) please look at me." Danny's voice quivered, and for a split second you flicked your gaze to meet his. The desperation, the terror, the sadness inside of his glassy eyes was enough to make your heart shatter. You suddenly couldn't pull your gaze away from his as you felt your own tears pool up in your eyes.

"You scared the shit out of me, Danny." you say quietly, and the tears spill over his eyes, down his face.

"I'm so, so sorry Sweetheart. I just..." he shook his head, and let his hands fall to his sides. "I couldn't stand watching him hit you like he had. I would never ever hurt you, not in a million years.

"I won't make up excuses. I lost my damn mind and I hate it, I hate having scared you and I'm so, so sorry." Danny wiped the tears from his face, sniffling, and lowered his head to stare at his hands in his lap. "I don't know what else to say. I'm sorry." The pity in your heart was overwhelming. Danny was sitting before you, crying a river of guilt and despair because of you being scared and weak. You wrapped him in a tight hug and he hugged you back almost immediately.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten scared so easily." Danny chuckles and shakes his head, and the two of you stay silent for minutes and minutes, Michael and Jason watching silently from the couch.

"It's not your fault, Honey. Don't apologize." Danny pulls away, now wearing a small smile. "Thank you for forgiving me, (Y/N). It means a lot to me." You were interrupted by Michael and his notepad, a page that read,

'' Danny let out a sigh, shifting so he could pull back the leg of his pants. Again, his leg was a bleeding mess. Michael glared at him, shaking his head with a deep sigh of pure and utter disappointment. He wrote something new on his notepad.

'' Danny's jaw dropped, and he let out a dramatic gasp.

"No, I'm not being put on lockdown!" he whined, turning to you with a pleading gaze, "Don't make me stay here, let me come run errands with you and stuff again!" You shake your head. Michael was smart to sort of 'lock Danny in'. It would stop him from injuring his leg further, and also probably save a life or two.

"It's not a bad idea, Danny. Your leg needs to heal," you stand up as you speak and hold out a hand to Danny, helping him up as well, "I have to go into work tomorrow, so you'll have to hold down the fort for me." Danny seems to lighten up a little bit at the fact that you needed his help, letting out a defeated sigh and nodding his head. You only now realize how exhausted he looks. There are bags under his eyes, and his shoulders are slumped. He probably hasn't slept since that alleyway scare.

Jason sensed your concern, standing up and making his way towards Danny. Without warning he scooped him up in his arms, ignoring Danny's cry of protest and turning to carry him upstairs. Michael turns to you as Jason leaves, a hand on your shoulder with a tilt to his head. You place your hand on top of his and smile, grateful for his motherliness and patience when it came to Danny.

"Thanks for your help, Michael." he nods his head, then turns and heads upstairs, leaving you alone. You suddenly wanted to go for a walk in the forest, curious about Jason's traps as well. You slip on your shoes and whatever sweater you have on your coat rack, then make your way through to exit out the back door. The early morning air was fresh and you could smell rain on the wind. It was still dark out, the sun only just peeking over the horizon. Upon stepping underneath the cool canopy of leaves, your stress was washed away by the waves of serenity in the blink of an eye. You pulled back a foot, kicking a pile of brittle leaves so they erupted into an array of colour, fluttering through the air. Smiling at the things, you waited for them to settle before continuing on with your stroll. You hum your favourite song, running your palms over the rough tree bark and over the smooth green ferns.

It was hard to believe that hours ago you were fearing for your life when now everything seemed just fine. Sooner or later you take a sharp left so you're edging the perimeter of your house and not walking directly away from it but alongside it, trying to keep an eye out for Jason's traps. You spotted a bear trap like the one that had caught Danny nestled between two tree trunks, making a mental reminder. You also spotted one inside a patch of long grass, and a rope snare tangled within the roots of a tree. They were generally well hidden, but you don't know why you'd ever need them; it's not like anyone would be on your property. Everything seems so simple right now. You were strolling mindlessly through the forest, then you'd go home, most likely watch TV and eat a quick breakfast, lounge all day, and tomorrow you had to go in for work. That was probably the thing that was the most difficult in your life, honestly. You rarely went into work, and when you did it was only for live press conferences or meetings, most of which ended with you having 10x the usual amount of work. Your boss, Craig, wasn't very fond of you, to say the least. Most of the extra work was put on you. You shove the trickle of anger about your boss to the back of your mind. Now wasn't the time for your nice stroll to be ruined by your work life.

You step out into an open clearing with a patch of daffodils in the center, framed by a beam of light. It looked almost heavenly. You kneel beside it, reaching out carefully and tenderly caressing the yellow-petaled flowers with the utmost care.

"Pretty..." you breathe out, then let out an airy chuckle and smile. It was stunning, truly stunning. You grip gently at the base of a daffodil, debating whether to pick it and bring it back home. Your grip tightens slightly, and you're just about to give it a tug when a loud metallic clang and a startled scream ring out to your right, deeper into the forest. Almost immediately you knew it was one of Jason's traps, but it wasn't as loud as a bear trap, and it didn't draw a pained scream but a startled one. You rocket to your feet, peering through the undergrowth towards the frantic, confused shouting from whatever boy who had not been watching his footing. A rustle behind you makes you whip around to see Jason, machete gripped tightly in his hand and his gaze set intently on you. "I'm okay, but a trap went off or something." You knew he'd be worried, and he nods at your information, motioning for you to follow him closely as he sets off quickly towards the sound of the boy.

You didn't bother talking, knowing he wouldn't have his notepad, nor would he have had time to write on it if he did, you just followed as best as you could. His legs were longer and he was used to the uneven terrain so he sped away and you lost sight of him sooner or later, relying on the sound of the boy's screams to tell you where you were going. At last you pushed your way through the last wall of brush, almost bumping right into a boy hung upside down, feet tied at the ankles by a rope snare trap. He swung to face you as much as his mobility allowed him to, hope flaring in his eyes.

"H-Help m-me!" he stuttered out, voice thick with fear. He held out a hand and you flinched away at the sight of the blood coating it. He wore a dark red button-up shirt and dark jeans, both covered in blood just like his hands. He had dark hair and pale skin. Jason crashed through the bushes in front of you, and you suddenly feel guilty; he was probably scoping the situation out first, which was smart. The boy twisted awkwardly to face Jason, letting out a choked cry of terror as he laid eyes on him. Jason didn't hesitate to lift his machete, but you slipped around the hanging boy and in between him and Jason just before the forest man could swing.

"Jason, wait!" you cried out as the machete swung, stopping inches from your skull. You had taken a chance there and you almost wish you hadn't. If Jason didn't have such acute reaction time you could be dead right now. "He's just a poor boy!" you turn from Jason, back to the boy. He seems confused and obviously still scared, seeing this huge, infamous killer tamed by some random lady. "What's your name?" The boy seems dumbfounded by the question, as if that was the last thing he'd ever hear you ask in a situation like this.

"N-Norman, Norman B-Bates." he holds his hands up defensively, fear still evident in his eyes and clear as day in his voice. "I-I didn't m-m-mean to trespass o-or anything. I-I'm sorry." Norman was obviously fighting to keep his voice even but his trembling form showed you how scared he really was. You didn't blame him, you'd be petrified as well.

"Why are you covered in blood?" you ask, and Norman seems to shrink after hearing you. He doesn't respond, and you let out a sigh. "Jason, cut him down, please." you ask, taking a step back so Jason could do his thing.

Norman winced and let out a nervous whimper as Jason approached and grabbed the rope just above Norman's feet, slicing above with the machete til it snapped. Jason then, surprisingly gently, lowered Norman to the ground. Once he was set down, the rope around his feet was sawed away. Jason extended a hand to Norman, who took it very hesitantly and was pulled to his feet.

"Are you hurt?" you ask, motioning to the blood covering his body.

"N-No, it i-isn't my b-blood." he mumbled out, staring down at his shaking, blood-covered hands. Norman bit his bottom lip and shook his head with glassy eyes.