A/N: This took so long to get right!

For those of you wondering, it is my belief that Chucky is an abusive husband, whether or not he means to be. I'm fine with people writing that he isn't- I quite enjoy those stories. However, for this story at least (and anything else involving Taryn), I have written Chucky as abusive (and a rapist, as you can tell by the ending).

I'd like to dedicate this to because she encouraged me to finish it. When it comes to whether or not I write well, the "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself" quote applies. I thought this would be horrible, and for a long time, it was. Thanks to the encouragement of I was able to make it readable, at least.


Tiffany ran into her basement, and for a second she briefly wondered if she should just stay there. She walked to the corner of the floor, where pieces of wood, nails, and a hammer lay. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she'd left, and she knew what she had to do. It would have to be as quiet as possible, and the mailman would probably notice and tell the tabloids (being famous could be a bitch when you were trying to protect your family). But Tiffany Ray was going to lock her doors, she was going to board up her windows, and she would take her children into the panic room.

Maybe she was overreacting, but just how was she supposed to react when her doll of an ex-husband had just attempted to choke her son? For a while, Tiffany had genuinely believed that Chucky was gone. When Glen reached his ninth birthday and had his friends over, she thought that maybe they could forget about the past. But unfortunately, Chucky had found a way to resurrect himself, as usual. Tiffany found so many reasons to blame herself as she picked up the material and walked up the basement stairs. Shouldn't have had an outdoor party... should have burned Chucky's body... should have moved away... should have accepted that movie deal...

She found herself at the top of the stairs. Standing in front of her was Glenda, the child that took after Chucky. Somehow, Tiffany loved her daughter, despite her malicious behavior- just as she had loved Chucky. "What's going on?" She asked demandingly. "Why do you have so much wood?"

Tiffany looked at the wall instead of Glenda as she answered, "Mommy has to take care of some things, sweetie." She began to walk toward the living room. It was the top priority for making secure. Right outside was the place where Glen had been attacked, and this room had the most windows. It was where Glenda had run in as soon as she saw what was going on. And Chucky loved his daughter. Tiffany shuddered as she picked a big piece of wood from the pile and placed it against a window. "Glenda, hand me that hammer and a nail, please." She said coldly. She was rarely unhappy with her children, so Glenda obeyed in shock. "Thank you. Now go check on your brother."

"He's fine."

"Glenda, go!"

She ran out of the room.


Glen was sitting on his bed reading Winnie The Pooh. He didn't look up when Glenda walked in. "What is it?" He asked raspily.

"Mom told me to see if you were all right." His siter said begrudgingly as she stood in the doorway. "How's your throat?"

"Fine." He answered, and turned a page. The truth was, he didn't feel fine. He felt like his neck was being snapped whenever he spoke. He had known exactly whose arm it was that attacked him after he opened the present. Part of him thought he knew before he even picked it up. After all, who gives someone a present without a card? There could only be two instances of that- one being the sort that only happened in books where the present ended up being some sort of portal to a magical world, and the second was, well... his dad.

Despite the logic of the situation, Glen was both scared and surprised that his dad had attempted to choke him. Dads were supposed to be loving figures, not raging maniacs. Speaking of maniacs, he had wanted to watch Animaniacs that day, until his birthday had been interrupted...God. He did it on my birthday. The thought sent a new wave of fear and despair throughout the boy.

Meanwhile, Glenda was saying, "You sure?"

Before Glen could answer, there was a scream from downstairs. The siblings looked at each other for a fraction of a second, and ran downstairs.


"A de, due, damballa..." There was a broken window, and Chucky (minus an arm) was standing over and unconscious Tiffany on the groud, chanting an all-too-familiar spell.

"Dad!" Glen tried to scream, but because of his throat, a harsh whisper was all that came out before Glenda started to run at him.

She crashed into her father, kneeing him in the chest and sending him flying toward the wall. Chucky growled, and went back at his daughter, continuing to scream. "Give me the power, I beg of you!" Truthfully, it looked a little stupid, but the only thing any of them were worried about was the spell. Chucky bit Glenda on the leg, causing her to scream in pain and fall to the floor. Chucky knocked her out with a blow to the head and went after Glen.

"No, st-" were all he could say before Chucky began to choke him with his remaining hand.

The last thing that Glen registered before he passed out was the fact that even though it felt familiar, that made it all the more worse.

When they woke up, they were dolls. "Hello." Chucky said. "Now you are my family. We're going to live in this fancy house instead of that crappy trailer. We will kill, because it's what we do. And Tiffany..." He looked at his wife. "I think it's time we had another kid, don't you?"

The kids ran out of the room as Chucky got close to Tiffany. Two weeks later, Taryn Minerva Ray was born.