Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the following: Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, or Freddy vs. Jason, nor any of said franchises' characters. They are the property of New Line/Warner Bros., Paramount, Wes Craven, Sean S. Cunningham, and whoever else. I make no profit from this fanfiction, which is purely a work of fan love (and hate). Please do not sue me.

Author's Note: This came about because a) I love NOES and FvJ, b) hated Lori's fake guts, and c) found Katherine Isabelle to be the only actress that was able to take a one-dimensional character and make her feel almost real and likable. I have a vague idea where I'm going with this, but it might take a while because Robert Englund's Freddy is one of those characters that terrifies me as a fanfic writer. So I don't want to rush any parts that include Freddy, and many parts will. This is going to focus a lot more on him than Jason, but Jason won't be totally ignored. Also, I haven't seen every single Friday film, so if I get anything wrong with Jason, forgive me - and hey, let me know what it is, and I'll try to fix it. :) Reviews and constructive criticsm would be awesome period. ;) *is not very subtle* Do let me know if there are any typos, spelling errors, etc., because this is un-beta'd as I don't have a beta reader and can't catch everything myself.

Chapter 1: The Stuff Conspiracy Theories Are Made Of

This had to be the worst day of Gibb's life. She was pretty certain there wasn't a way for any other day in her future to outdo it - and she sure as hell hadn't been through a wrose day before this one. She had - naively (and she'd thought she couldn't be naive about anything anymore) - believed the previous day to be her worst day ever solely because of the horror that had happened that night.

Trey brutally murdered - for no reason and with no suspects and incompetent police officers asking her a bunch of stupid questions she could not, for the drunken life of her, figure out the relevancy of.

Yeah, that had been pretty awful. But then she'd woken up and heard the news about Blake and his dad. Not long after meeting up with Kia they'd learned something even worse - the cops were blaming everything on Blake.

For fuck's sake, the cops in Springwood were idiots. Gibb had been saying it since she'd entered high school (and started drinking and smoking). Now they were going out of their way to prove her right. She wouldn't say anything; frankly, she didn't want to dwell on it. But she knew that there was no possible way Blake could have killed Trey. Maybe she could somehow be convinced that Trey's death had caused Blake to snap and kill his dad (who had probably aggravated Blake's state of mind anyway, so maybe he had it coming) before himself.

But stabbing Trey to death, bending the bed upward, getting rid of the weapon, and finishing in time to hang out with Lori and Kia before they could get too suspicious? Blake was ruled out at the bending the bed part. Gibb could punch harder than Blake; the boy had no real muscle, he was just blessed with a body that looked buffer than it really was.

Gibb wasn't even sure she could be convinced that Blake had killed his old man and himself. It just screamed 'convenience.' First Trey's brutal murder, then Blake and his dad with similar M.O.s? She just didn't buy it. She didn't want to buy it. She didn't want to think about it - Trey was dead. Trey was fucking dead.

And it wasn't like she'd been in love with him, or even felt genuine affection for him either. She'd been with him for the cute ass, the sex, and the beer. Still, it was Trey...Gibb had been with Trey almost as long as she'd been in high school. They had rough spots, sure. He was a controlling and borderline abusive asshole, sure. But for several years now he'd been a constant presence in her life, and another vice she just could not seem to quit.

"Fuck it, I need some air," Gibb stated to Kia and stormed out of the nurse's station. She waited until she was in the hallway before wiping her eyes. Damn it, she was sick of crying! She wasn't the crying type. Except when Noodles, her poodle mutt had died about four years ago. She'd cried even more then than she'd cried over Trey. But then Noodles had loved Gibb from the moment Gibb had been brought home from the hospital, and had been loyal and obedient and supportive.

Not the time to think about Noodles, Gibb, get a grip! Tears threatened to overflow. She felt too raw to think about sensitive subjects she'd normally be able to handle. Gibb was in desperate need of a distriction more than air. When Lori had shown up, particularly upset (which Gibb hadn't quite been expecting, since Lori had always hated Trey and even wished him dead on occasion, but then again it had been a gruesome murder in her parents' bedroom, that probably had more to do with it than the victim himself), Gibb had been happy to focus on Lori's emotional distress.

Better Lori's pain than her own while she was sober and could feel it too clearly.

Of course part of her had been a little resentful - 'Shit, Lori, it wasn't your boyfriend murdered,' a little voice in the back of her head had bitterly thought - but Gibb could tell that the situation had Lori really frazzled. And again, Gibb had welcomed the distraction, the chance to comfort her friend and focus on her friend's grief and effed up nightmare at the police station. It was much better talking about the dream no doubt brought on by Trey's murder than talking about Trey's actual murder.

Gibb didn't have that luxury anymore, because Lori was passed out from, well, everything, Gibb guessed. (Though Will Rollins randomly popping up was definitely the catalyst.) Gibb and Kia had talked in hushed voices about their worries for Lori, Will's reappearance, his twitchy freak of a friend, and the weird bad daydream Lori's talk had given Kia. But that conversation had eventually run dry, and Gibb was again left with her thoughts as she and Kia waited.

She couldn't take it anymore.

The sound of hushed voices echoed in the hallway, and Gibb decided to investigate. Everyone else was supposed to be in class now - so maybe something was going on, something that could take her mind off the fucking mess her mind was in.

When Gibb turned the corner she muttered, "Fuck me," under her breath and stormed towards the Coke machine. "You assholes have a lot of nerve!" she hissed and smacked both of them upside their heads the moment she was close enough. She glared at Will and his 'I'm too tense for my blood pressure' friend; she could not believe they had the gall to still be at school after the shitpile they'd created.

Both boys reflexively reached up to where they'd been smacked, the twitchy, unknown one recoiling from Gibb as if she'd burned him (glaring at her like she'd done it, too), but Will came closer. He looked concerned - wasn't he four years too late to pull this crap?

"Is Lori okay?"

Gibb crossed her arms. "Why do you care?"

Will took a step closer. His expression became even more worried and a tiny bit angry. "How can you ask me that? Of course I care! I broke out of Westin to get here and make sure Lori wasn't killed last night!" Will practically shouted into Gibb's now confused face.

His friend looked ready to do some head-smacking himself. "Would you be quiet?" The kid grabbed Will's arm and tried to pull him away. "You're gonna get us caught!"

"Wait, hold up!" Gibb whispered. Well, whispered but very loudly. "Westin? What the fuck is Westin, some kind of juvie place?" She'd never heard of anywhere called Westin, and she hadn't for once suspected that Will might have been in trouble for something and that was the real reason he'd disappeared. Of course, Gibb wasn't the only one under the impression Will had just moved away - after all, his parents had just moved away.

Generally, underage kids move with their parents.

Will opened his mouth to say something, his friend glared at her and looked ready to say something, but before either of them could make a noise the three teenagers heard footsteps coming their way.

Gibb glanced back the way she'd come in time to see Principal Shaye and two police officers round the corner. They were walking towards her and where the two boys had been standing a moment ago - but Will and his friend had made a run for it only seconds before the three men had turned down that hallway. Gibb looked over to see where the boys were running.

Something really strange was going on.

Principal Shaye walked up to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke in that tone of voice Gibb hated; the 'Let me talk down to you while pretending I'm talking to you like an equal' tone. "Which way did they go, Miss Smith? It's very important that we find them and talk to them. We don't want any trouble, but both boys are a danger to themselves and possibly anyone they come in contact with."

Gibb sighed and pointed down the hallway. "They went straight down and then turned towards the gym."

"Thank you, Gibb. Now please, why don't you go back to the nurse's station?"

Gibb rolled her eyes and walked towards the girls' bathroom instead. She wasn't sure why she'd lied about which way the boys' had run (they'd actually gone straight for the front door, not the gym), but she didn't feel right helping the cops out. Not after the bullshit they were pulling with Trey and Blake and oh, fuck, her mind was bringing back the awful image of Trey, bent backwards with the bed. Gibb splashed her face with cold water. "Just block it out, Gibb, just block it out. The only thing you should think about is the party tonight and how wasted you're going to get. And maybe all the conspiracy theories you could form off everything that's happened lately."

Yeah, that was a way better alternative.