#not me quoting jennifer tilly in the haunted mansion

[silvershewolf247]

Try Again

After Andy passed out, Chucky re-secured his arm and finished up Mixter’s instructions for taking care of his stitches. He debated with himself about putting the gag back in, but chose against it, deciding he wanted to see Andy’s continued response to the good news, unfiltered. Chucky made himself comfortable in his armchair and started reading one of his magazines. It wasn't long before Andy was waking up again. Chucky hadn’t given him much, didn’t want Andy developing a tolerance. If he was anything like Nica, they’d need to use it again. Chucky smiled at the thought of Andy waking up in a panic like Nica had, desperately trying to put together the lost time and what Chucky had done with him. 

This wasn’t the first time Chucky had seen Andy waking up during this… well… Chucky considered it a bit of a well needed time out. And every time it was the same, Andy would wake up visibly confused, take in his surroundings, and seem to settle on where and when he was. Then he'd fall into the same pained resignation that Chucky had grown bored of. But now it was different. Andy woke up, he looked around the room confused, then he settled, then came the fun part. Andy groaned, and he realized he could hear himself, he realized he didn’t have a gag in, then he remembered why. 

“Morning sleepyhead,” Chucky said. Andy’s eyes found him. He was trying to keep himself calm, but Chucky could see the fast, heavy breathing in his chest. It’s the little things that made Chucky smile. Andy meanwhile had a look that made it clear he wanted to smack that smile off his face. 

“Why’d you keep the gag out?” Andy asked, forcing his tone to be level. Chucky took a deep breath. Andy could play pretend all he wanted, Chucky would drag him back into reality kicking and screaming. 

“Well you got yourself all worked up. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it,” Chucky said, only looking at Andy over the magazine. 

“Do you honestly think possessing me is going to work for you this time? You tried it twice and failed twice,” Andy said. 

“You try, you fail, you try, you fail, but the only true failure is when you stop trying,” Chucky said, turning the page. Andy looked at him skeptical and confused, Chucky lowered his magazine.

“Tiffany told me that; she has one of those motivational quote calendars,” Chucky explained, before returning to his magazine. 

“Well if we’re quoting shit, you ever hear about the definition of insanity?” Andy said, 

“Andy, you and I have been well past insane for a while now,” Chucky said, smiling. He was amused that Andy seemed to think he could talk his way out of this.

“You’d be stuck with me, you hate my guts, do you really want that?” Andy said. Chucky put down the magazine and gave Andy his full attention.

“Andy, I don’t hate you," he said. He got up and walked over to Andy. 

"I like you," he continued leaning closer to Andy.

"I like fucking with you, I like hurting you, I like hearing you scream, I like knowing how much I fucked up your life, I like knowing how much I’ve gotten into your head, I like knowing that I’m the only constant in your horrible life, and I like scaring you," Chucky said, smiling when he noticed Andy was digging his nails into his palm. 

"You aren’t my mortal enemy, or the big hero meant to stop me, despite how you make believe. You’re my toy, one of my favorites, you’re broken and worn down, but I keep you around, maybe it’s sentimentality, maybe it’s because there’s still fun to be had. But it’s my decision, and I’m choosing to keep you around,” Chucky said. 

Andy listened to his whole spiel, not looking him in the eye. Over the three and half years they had lived together, Chucky learned to read Andy. And that was a telltale sign that what Chucky said had hit him somewhere. He was quiet for a moment, Chucky waited in the silence. 

“I guess that is the only way you could keep someone around isn’t it,” Andy said. Chucky was taken aback. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Chucky said. He put his hand on Andy's arm, right over one of the fresher cuts.

“Pretty simple to understand, but I guess you are pretty fucking dense,” Andy said, Chucky dug his thumb into Andy's cut. Andy winced in pain and gritted his teeth, swallowing a scream, but he was smiling. 

“You make fun of me for only having you as a constant in my life, but all the constants in your life are your victims,” Andy said. 

“That’s not true,” Chucky said, it was blunt, but Andy could hear some desperation. 

“Really, let’s go through the list of the people in your life,” Andy said, Chucky let him go on, knowing if he stopped him, he’d be conceding he was scared of what Andy was saying.

“There’s your wife, you’ve murdered her… two times?” Andy asked. 

“Three,” Chucky said. 

“No wonder she called the police on you,” Andy said. Chucky tensed, still sensitive on that topic. 

“There’s your ever shifting list of kids and teens you harass and stalk,” Andy said. 

“Every man needs his hobbies,” Chucky said, smiling and shrugging.

“But they were never enough for you, were they. If they had been, you'd never have ended up here. You wanted more than just those ‘hobbies’” Andy said. 

“You wanted the same picket fence life you saw Daniel Pierce had, but you knew you could never make relationships as strong as his, so you killed him and you tried to steal his life,” Andy continued. 

“Pathetic really, I might not have much fulfillment in my life, but at least I accept who I am,” Andy said, he was chuckling. Chucky clenched his fist, digging his fingers into Andy's wound. Andy let out a pained scream, before gritting his teeth. 

“You never let go of that," Andy said through the pain, Chucky stopped. 

"Sarah didn’t want you, so you killed her. Barbara and Nica didn’t want or need you as a father, so you killed Barbara and possessed Nica because you needed to keep one of your pseudo kids around,” Andy continued, smiling at Chucky’s growing rage. 

“She’s more a part of your life than your actual kids… They don’t even know you exist, do they?” Andy finished, Chucky grabbed a knife off his side table and put it to Andy’s throat. Andy didn’t flinch. 

“Do it, you pathetic, fucking coward,” Andy said. Chucky held the knife at his throat. They stayed still in silence for a moment. Before Chucky broke it by laughing.

“You almost got me there Barclay,” Chucky said, still laughing. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying for Andy, but you’re not getting it,” Chucky said, putting the knife away. They both heard a door creaking open and heels clicking on the creaky floorboards. They both looked over to see Dr. Mixter walking in. 

“Hello Charlie,” she said, walking over to Andy and Chucky.

"Hey Doc., Good to see ya," Chucky said, waving her over. She grabbed Andy’s leg, looking it over, clinical and detached. Andy groaned in pain when she grabbed him and glared at her. He had met her before, but he’d never been able to say anything to her. Now that he could, he didn’t know what to say. 

“The stitches look good, we should be able to take them out in two weeks,” she said, Chucky smiled at Andy, who had gone pale. 

“Hear that buddy, two weeks. Then we get to have some real fun,” Chucky said.