Rain sprinkled down on the rusted rails and vandalized box cars. It wasn't pouring, but it was enough to make little swamps in the dirt. There could've been dark clouds, but it was already the dead of night so it really wouldn't have mattered. The Rays were getting a taste of what it was like to be on the run and it really, really sucked.

Their escape from the Tilly mansion had brought them to a trainyard of sorts beyond the outskirts of LA. Chucky had came in hot, screaming that it was time for them to "drop everything and leave." The Order of the Serpent had found out everything. For the Rays to live, the Tillys had to die. This meant his wife, his children had to sacrifice the rich human lives they have so lovingly grew accustomed to. No one really knew what to think. Their natural drive for survival had trumped all emotion and reason.

The Rays were taking shelter beneath a boxcar, shielding from the storm outside. Chucky had build a small fire using scraps of railroad ties. Fire is usually a symbol of warmth and comfort, but it didn't seem like anyone was finding it that night. All now had taken possession of doll bodies. Tiffany, restored in her original bride doll glory, was propped up against one of the front wheels of the vandalized train car. Her eyelids threatened to close, she wasn't ready for sleep to claim her yet. Her husband sat at her side, keeping watch over both themselves and their children.

Glen had claimed a far corner of the boxcar. He sat, legs crossed and head lowered in meditation. His family could only imagine the emotional storm that must be raging within him. He was still getting over leaving behind Julie, his girlfriend. They had plans, him and her. With ACTS and college scouting ahead, they were going to apply to the same school. Grow and learn together just as they've done since they first met in the anime club. It's no more than just a dream now. At least, he still had the tanto she had given him for his birthday, which hung in its sheath on his short doll back.

His twin, Glenda wasn't too far from him. It was bittersweet finally having a doll body of her own. Good thing she won that Victorian-era like doll in that raffle at the mall. She played dress up with it, modifying it with red hair, freckles and a new dress. Most would say that it looked like her, but that was the intention. Glenda had tried singing in her usual way to lighten the mood. Glen promptly told her to 'shut the fuck up'. And that was the only thing he said in the last twenty four hours. Glenda only obliged, she understood completely. Talking to him or trying to cheer him up wouldn't do any good. She just had to let him have that time to himself. She had broken free from the body they shared so many years ago, but sometimes when Glen is despaired, she could swear that she could make out weeping. She can't see or hear it, but she feels it. And it still hurts just as much as it did when they were little. Now, Glenda just made up her time digging little holes in the wet dirt. She'd even put it on her face like a mud mask. Not to cheer anyone up in particular, it was just Glenda being Glenda. Say what I want about the twins, at least they felt like themselves. With the youngest Ray, Lottie, this wasn't the case.

She sat alone on one end under the car, just below the coupling rod. Not out in the rain, but she was close. They had gotten there just a little after noon and still she had not moved from that spot. Lottie sat so still you couldn't even tell that she was breathing. When Chucky brought food from the car across the trainyard full of non perishables, she wouldn't eat. Each of the Rays took naps throughout the day too, they had spent the previous fleeing nonstop to nowhere in particular. Lottie wouldn't sleep either. She would just sit there, occasionally staring or poking at the plastic flesh on her now stubby little arm. The doll her soul possessed was the one she got for her sixth birthday. One day while she was at kindergarten Glenda had gotten a hold of it and altered it. Right to the point where it resembled her younger sister and it was spot on. It was the little details like the blue eyes and the bangs that went along way. She surprised her with it when Lottie came home. She loved it, didn't even recognize it as the same doll. Though now, Lottie was having trouble recognizing herself.

Every now and then her sister, brother or mother would come over to her and make sure she was ok. They would always get no answer. No matter what they said or how much they touched her. Lottie wouldn't even respond to hugs and she loves those. She just remained where she was with a dismal look on her face. The only subtle movements she would make was rocking back and forth, only noticeable if you were standing right beside her and of course the lip quiver. This was a tell tale sign that she was about to break down, but that break down never came. It wasn't clear but it seemed like Lottie was trying to keep herself from crying. But she wasn't like that. Sure, she bottled up emotions like Pepsi, something she had inherited from her father, but when it came down to it she was never afraid to cry. It was like she wasn't holding back sadness...but something else.

It was around the time when the rain had really started picking up. You could clearly hear the sound of the thick raindrops smashing against the equally as thick dirt. There were also small ringing sounds as they hit against the rails where a train car wasn't parked on. Lottie still didn't move from where she was. She held onto her hand and knead it around like putty as she stared off into the darkness the tracks ahead led to. Her fingers didn't crack like they used to.

"Lottie?" No identification necessary, it was her father. Chucky had finally given in and went over to her. Tiffany didn't put him up to it, he had went on his own. He was genuinely worried about his youngest daughter.

Lottie didn't say anything or look at him, but she did stop messing around with her hand.

"Lottie," Chucky repeated, "We're about to get some shut eye...you should probably too. C'mon...we've had a long day."

Lottie wasn't moving, but her hand did. She held it out in front of herself and slowly opened it, palm facing upwards. She didn't take her eyes off it.

"C'mon, Lottie...we're worried about you." Her dad said softly. Finally, she spoke.

"I used to be able to feel things like this," Lottie pinched at her palm, making sure in it was in plain view, "Now...I feel nothing."

"The body has to break in," Chucky said, "It's only been a day. Just give it time." Lottie lowered her hand, her head with it too.

"Time, huh? I'll give it. I'll keep giving until I got nothing left. I already gave up my humanity, my childhood, my innocence-"

"Lottie…" Chucky could tell things were about to get heavy. He hated being out of his element.

"Shut up," Lottie monotonously told her dad, "I'm not done yet. My soul, my identity and my life. I had a life, did you know that, dad?"

"I'm know," said Chucky, "And I want you keep living that life. That's why we're here...alive."

"Alive…" Lottie got up, the first time in a while she made any significant movement, "Alive?" her voice rose, "You call this alive? Look at me. Look at yourself. Sewing thread is keeping you together. And that's funny, what you want. That's what it's always been about!"

Chucky was careful with his tone here. He knew it was difficult, remembering the first time he transferred his own soul into a doll. It obviously wasn't his first choice. Wait, scratch that, he had no choice in the matter. It was do or die. He'd seen himself in a broken mirror after that toy store in the Southside of Chicago collapsed. Truth be told had his tear ducts formed that early on, he may or may not have balled his eyes out. Letting go of your humanity, saying goodbye to being a human it's indescribable.

"No it isn't, Lottie. We did what we had to do to live. Your mother knows that, so does your brother and sister. There's really bad people out there. Worse than me. And they'll tear apart here from Sacramento to find us."

"And who's fault is that?" Lottie asked, sharply, "Who, I wonder, would be so cruel to force their problems on their family so they have to suffer to?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would turn out like this."

"No, you're not," Lottie growled, "You're not sorry! This is what you wanted! You got your perfect family! You happy!? You happy with what I am now!?" she tugged on her plastic face, "You won! Congratulations! You always described your life as if it were some really sick movie! And you're right! It's about you! It's always been about you! What do I matter? I'm just a supporting character to you, aren't I!?"

"You know that's not true!" Chucky cried, "You're my daughter...my baby girl...and I love you. I just...want you to be alive."

"I was!" Lottie shrieked, "I had a life of my own! Glen and Glenda too! We finally broke free from you and you just dragged us right back! They're probably reporting our deaths on the news right now and Timothy is maybe breaking down in front of the tv. Because he just lost his best friend who he loved very much! I mean everything to him! More than anyone else ever felt about you!" More new grounds were broken for Chucky, he felt a small hint of pain in his chest. As metaphorical as can be. Strange, he didn't remember anyone hitting him there and he didn't have a heart condition.

"Your mother loves me…" That was a stupid thing to say. Only out of necessity to gain ground.

"That's love huh?" Lottie tilted her head, "Dad, why don't you tell me how many times you killed her?"

Chucky's mouth fell...he was silent.

"HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU KILL MOM, DAD!?" Lottie screamed.

"...Three…" Chucky whispered.

"What!? Sorry, didn't catch that? How many times?" Lottie mockingly put a hand to her ear.

"Three," repeated Chucky, reluctance in his voice.

"You're telling me, three...hmmm. Tell me, how does it feel to have more of a killing record against your own wife than your victims...you know, the Barclay kid and I also hear that the cripple is still alive…"

"I don't think you should bring that up, Lottie."

"Well, when can I bring it up? That you're both a disgusting human being-no, creature and a father? You going to kill me too!? Already took everything from me, once. You want to do it again!?"

"You made the decision to come with me...you threw yourself down the stairs, not me." Valid point, but he's still a fucking idiot for mentioning that. Lottie had an appropriate response. She inched closer and glared at him.

"Don't you dare put that on me!" she hissed, "You'd have to be total scum to bring that up...honestly, I don't why I'm surprised." Her eyes were tearing up, he had her thinking about Timothy again.

"I'm imagining Timothy at my funeral," Lottie said, "Hugging my coffin so tightly that his parents have to pry him away...of course, you wouldn't know that would be like. I bet when they lowered you in the dirt, there were just lines and lines of people just waiting to dance on your sorry grave. I know I would've." Whatever had a grip around Chucky's heart was getting tighter. This new, not sensation, seething irritation, he was not a fan.

"You don't...mean that," Chucky almost whimpered here.

"Every fucking word," Lottie's brow furrowed and her lip kept quivering, "I wish, if only it were true, that maybe one day grandma Martha just hit you a bit too hard. Right on the head and fractured your extremely thick ass skull and the shards ran right through your brain. Granted, I wouldn't exist. But, hey, I died at the age of ten! I never had a life to begin with! I got you to thank for that!"

Chucky was at a loss. His youngest daughter's teeth were clenched as her cheeks were now wet, the tears streaming out of her angry little eyes. He had dealt with disagreements with his kids before. Hell, Glen and Glenda even killed. But he had only taken Tiffany from them. He truly did take everything from Lottie. Did he feel remorse or even the slightest bit in the wrong? No, he didn't. His whole family was alive here with him. As long as they were together, nothing would be able to hurt them. But, do they know that?

"Lottie...you're kind of breaking my heart here."

"HAHAHAHA!" Lottie threw back here head in a combo of crying and laughter, "You have a heart!? A HEART!? There's nothing in there!"

Lottie whipped her hand forward striking Chucky directly on his chest. Her dad didn't flinch, he just blankly too the blows one after another. He'd let out a grunt here, but that was all.

"SEE!? Nothing in there! You don't fucking have a heart! Nothing to break!" Lottie just kept beating away at his chest, "Hahaha! I don't see anything!"

"Lottie, stop it." Chucky grabbed her by her wrist and held it firmly. Lottie wasn't able to feel it, but his touch registered.

"He's planning against you…"

"What?"

"You have to kill him."

"But-"

"After everything we lost to him….can you hear Timothy crying...he did that."

"I-"

"He wants to ruin you! You can't let that happen!"

"He-"

"He must die!"

"N-n"
"He's using you."

"He's...using me…"

"His love is fake."

"His...love is fake."

"You have to end him…"
"..."

"Yes…"

"HE'S DEAD TO ME!"

"GO TO HELL!"

It happened so fast. As Chucky's grip loosened on her, Lotte broke free. She was off like a rocket directly ramming into him. Chucky cried out as both of them flopped out into the rain from the cover of the train car. The mud stained their clothes almost instantly and their hair dampened in the precipitation.

"Lottie!" Chucky cried out. His daughter was on top of him, her hands trying to work their ways to his neck. They had no weapons on them, but that didn't mean that it wasn't going to get ugly. Lottie started flailing her arms about. The back of her plastic hands smashing against Chucky's face. Any normal being's skin would've stinged just by how hard the impacts were, but Lottie couldn't feel anything and she was taking full advantage of it. One of Chucky's stitches under his eye even split open. A thin river of blood rain down his cheek directly from it. With how close it was to his eye, it looked like a tear.

Chucky's arms shot up as he grabbed Lottie's wrists. She struggled in his grip before crying out and sinking her teeth into one of his hands. Chucky roared as he felt the stitches in that hand being pulled away. He then took her by a shoulder and threw her off him. He immediately got back up, clutching his now bleeding hand.

He glanced around, Lottie was apparently nowhere to be seen. And the rain and darkness only obstructed his vision.

"AHHHHHHH!" Lottie was latched onto his back in the next instant. Chucky too yelled out as he felt her nails dig into his neck. He stumbled around, the mudding splashing beneath him as he did. Lottie wasn't letting up, her nails just kept going deeper and deeper until he thought they would reach his jugular.

"LOTTIE! STOP!" Chucky reached over his head and clenched her hair. Using all his strength he flipped her over his head, slamming her down back first onto the metal rails of the train track.

Lottie didn't scream, her back just arched. Not registering the non existent pain, but the fact that there was an object obstructing her posture. She growled before shakingly pulling herself back up. The way she looked at her now scared father, a wicked toothy grin. And her eyes, almost nothing. Not artificial doll eyes or human, just plain nothing. Of course, eyeballs were still in the sockets, but the message they conveyed...just malice. The tears were still running and her lip was still quivering. As if emotions were just conflicting over control. However, Lottie was now in a state where emotions no longer mattered.

"Lottie…" her father said pitifully, "Please...I really don't want to hurt you."

His daughter was silent...until she picked up a rusted railroad spike lying next to the track. She clenched it, then drove it directly into her mid-section. Chucky cringed as she dragged it across, making a fierce laceration before dropping it at her side. No blood and no pain.

"You can't,"she sneered. That voice, it almost seemed like it didn't belong to her.

Lottie shrieked again as she lunged at Chucky. Again, knocking them both over. Directly onto the parallel rail of the same track. There was audible crack as the back of Chucky's head was crushed against it. He cried out again but before he could do anything Lottie twisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his head up before smashing it back down against the rail.

"AGH! LOTTIE!" The youngest Ray pulled him back up again then slammed his skull right back down on the metal. Then again, and again.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" Lottie would scream every time the rail made contact. Her blows just seemed to be getting harder and faster.

"Lottie...please…." Chucky was growing weak. He could feel the skin being breached, the edge of the rail just excavating his cranium. He slowly reached up, his bleeding stitched hand touched Lottie's cheek before slowing running down.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

There was then a sickening crack and a meaty pulverization. The rail had cracked through Chucky's skull and was dangerously close to his brain. Lottie wasn't ready to stop. She just kept at it, screaming, crying or laughing the whole time.

Glenda was napping when she woke up. She slept with her nature made mud mask on. Some of it had gotten in her mouth.

"Pit-too! Yuck city!" she spat and wiped it off then felt her face around, "Huh...does feel smoother...oh right...doll face." She sighed.

Glenda suddenly gasped when she heard a scream. No mistaking it, it was Lottie.

"What the…" through the faint glow of the fire she could make out two shapes on the tracks just a couple yards from the box car. One bigger and one smaller. The smaller looked like it was overpowering the bigger one...then it suddenly dawned on Glenda when she could see everything.

"HOLY SHIT!" she screamed, eyes wide, "Glen! Glen!" she shook her sleeping brother, he was up in an instant.

"WHAT!? WHAT!?" he cried. Glenda didn't need to say anything, she just pointed to Chucky and Lottie. Glen gasped.

"Oh my god...I'll wake mum…"

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" Lottie was now beginning to slow down her pace, but the hits weren't getting any softer.

Chucky had stopped moving at this point. A thick pool of blood now coated the rail beneath his head. His hands were at his sides, lowered and useless. His eyelids were only fluttering open and shut. Whether it was him trying to slip into unconsciousness or death was unclear.

"L-Lottie-e...n-no." Poor thing, he was still trying to fight.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE-AH!"

Lottie was suddenly tackled before she could slam his head back down for what I'm sure would've been the last time. At first she just registered it as a blur of pink, next thing she knew she was being held up in a reverse bear hug by her older sister.

"LOTTIE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" Glenda screamed.

She didn't get an answer. Lottie suddenly threw her own head back, the rear hitting Glenda square in the face.

"AHHHH!" Glenda screamed and let go of her younger sister, she fell onto her back hand over her now bleeding nose, "AH! MY NOSE! SHE FUCKING BROKE MY NOSE!"

Lottie was about to resume her attack on her father but this time, her older brother intervened seemingly out of nowhere. Not making the same mistake her twin did, he got her in a suspended full nelson. Lottie struggled in it as her feet dangled above the ground.

"Lottie, that's enough!" Glen said, sternly. Lottie continued to fight back, "I said, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Glen's nelson got tighter.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Tiffany stepped out from underneath the train car.

Upon seeing her mother, Lottie stopped fighting back. Not only did her limbs drop, so did her face.

"Mommy?" she squeaked. The usual life came back in her eyes and her lip quivered as it had done so many times before, "Mommy!"

Glen, sensing that she wasn't going to cause anymore harm, released her. Lottie was quick to run into her mother's arms and burying her face in her bride's dress.

"Save me from him!" Lottie cried, reverted only to a scared nine year old, "Save me from him, mommy!"

Tiffany lowered her head to her youngest daughter as Chucky slowly sat up where he was. His wife gave him an unsure look.

"Chucky?"

"Just…" Chucky waved her off, "Just get her to sleep, Tiff. Please...just do that for me."

"What about-"

"I'm….ok, don't worry." He sure as hell didn't look like it, "Just please, get her to sleep."

"Ok…" Tiffany was still uneasy, but their child needed tending. She picked up Lottie and brought her under the box car. She was sure to go to the farther side. Glen and Glenda were left alone with their injured father. Glenda had just gotten up stopped her nose from bleeding.

"Oh fuck me in the ass…" she moaned, "What the fuck did you do to her, dad?" Chucky wasn't moving.

"This," Chucky gestured to his body, the good guy doll, "I did this to her."

"She isn't alone," said Glen, "We've all lost something these past few days...I just didn't know she had it in her." Chucky forced a smile.

"Yeah, she's my daughter alright….at least that's how she used to see it," Chucky was barely able to get up. His legs just refused to work as he wobbled around. It looked as though he was about to fall. The twins were quick to put their dad's arms around their shoulders and hoist him back up.

"It's ok, dad," Glen said, "We got you." Another fake smile from Chucky.

"I'm so glad...help me get back under there." He gestured to the box car. His two children assisted him.

"Hey dad...are we gonna fall apart?" Glenda suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"I mean like...are we as a family gonna fall apart?"

"What the hell do you mean, Glenda?"

"We just don't know," Glen interjected, "We're all just so scared and confused...I mean we lost so much, our lives are in danger all of a sudden...god, I wish I was just with Julie right now."
"Oh right…" said Chucky, "Your lady friend...kids, I'm sorry. I really got us into deep shit here. I just know one thing...we can't fall apart, not fucking now. Not like this." He wasn't going to elaborate in details why he was sorry, Chucky isn't like that.

"You know," Glen smirked, "I actually was going to beat you in your sleep tonight for splitting my girlfriend and I up...but I kind of like this better." Glenda let out a 'Ha!' while Chucky couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Fuck you, son."

"Fuck you, old man." Glen laughed through his teeth.

As they neared the boxcar, Glen and Glenda started to noticed the strides Chucky was taking were getting longer and longer to the point where they might as well be dragging him.

"Dad, you ok?" Glenda asked.

"Huh?" Chucky looked up, "Oh...yeah...I just think...I might have a...con...cus...shun…." He then went completely limp as his head drooped. His feet now were just barely hovering above the ground. Almost all his weight beared down his two kids. The twins became concerned.

"Get him under there." Glen instructed her twin.

Once they were under the car they laid out their dad. Glen placed his hand on Chucky's jugular. He nodded.

"He's alright, there's a pulse," he said, "It's weak but active."

"Damn, he's bleeding out over here." Glenda surveyed the back of his head, an open deep gash.

"Plug it up with dirt," instructed Glen, "Stop the bleeding. Dad's a quick healer."

"Dirt?" questioned Glenda, "Can't it get infected?"

"Can't get sick, remember?"

"Oh….right." A doll body of her own was new to her. When she had shared on with Glen, he was the one who kept track of all the rules. She was just sort of a guest there.

The twins were able to cushion the wound on a pile of dirt while also lightly packing it. Since Chucky was out, how comfortable he was wasn't exactly a concern. The one good thing I could say about him in that state is how peaceful he looked. Easy were shut nice and easy and his mouth closed. No noisy snoring like he usually does.

Glen and Glenda sighed in relief. They set up close by to their dad. They weren't going to keep watch on him all night as they were confident he would awake the next morning, how late the next morning though was up for debate. Hope Lottie didn't beat him into a coma.

Speaking of which, Lottie had fallen asleep almost at once in Tiffany's arm. The mother and daughter were cuddled up against the wheel on the other side of the car. Tiffany held her in a tight embrace, rocking back and forth. She would get answers from her husband the next day, but whatever went on, she knew Lottie was the aggressor.

"Hey, Glenda," Glen suddenly spoke up. His sister was lying close by.

"What up?"

"I think I could really go for a song right now, something soft and maybe Disney." Glenda smiled. In the darkness of the now burnt out fire, the light in her eyes couldn't be seen.

"Sure...Classic, Renaissance or Modern?"

"Surprise me."

Glenda then softly sung 'God Help The Outcasts' until sleep found her brother.

"Mmmm...agh."

It was still dark when Lottie awoke. There was a nip in the air and that didn't mix well with the sleeveless dress she had on. Go thing the skin in her arm wasn't fully developed otherwise she would have gotten goosebumps...actually that's a good question. Could Chucky and his family get goosebumps with all that plastic hide?

Lottie guessed it was early morning as she yawned, just before twilight. From underneath the car she could see the moon just about to begin to set. The sun had yet to show its face.

She was nestled up against her mother. The sleeping Tiffany had her arms securely around her youngest daughter. For comfort or restraint, I don't know neither did Lottie. She was able to get free, with little effort, carefully removing her mother's arms from her. Tiffany didn't stir, she just retracted her arms to herself and hummed a little. She felt the chill, even in her sleep, and assumed a lying position on her side. Lottie left her be, her mom looked peaceful.

Lottie sighed and sauntered over to the other side of the boxcar. Why? She had no real reason to. Maybe she just wanted to stretch, but she was still fatigued and was probably going to go back to sleep eventually. She stepped over the ash pile the fire had left behind, it was no longer smoking. The wind would eventually carry it away, no clean-up necessary.

Her brother and sister were still asleep in their corner. Glen was snoozing propped up against the wheel, his head rested on his shoulder. Glenda had her head on his lap. She must've fallen asleep on him. Sleeping in close proximity to her twin had always been therapeutic for her. She usually did this in time of need or emotional complexity. Glenda wasn't one to show it externally, but Glen understood. He understood perfectly.

And there was Chucky, obviously having not moved from his spot. Lottie stopped and stood over him. Her father, now lying on his side with his head cushioned by the now solidified mud. His gaped mouth suggested that all the air he was inhaling wasn't going in through his nose, judging by the sound of his gasping too. Was he having to fight just to draw breath? Now and then a leg or arm would twitch. He just look so pitiful and vulnerable.

"You have a second chance. Take it! End him!"

"H-huh?"

"Take a spike! Slit his throat! Strangle him! Make his face turn blue! Take your brother's blade! Bisect him! Kill him while he's weak and you're strong!"

"I-I...don't want to...no."

"What do you mean, no!? After everything we took from us! What he's done to us!"

"W-what about what we've done to him?"

"YOU CAN'T COMPARE THAT! We're doing what he have to! He's done it out of greed and fear! Kill him! Send him to hell!"

"..."

"DO IT!"

"..."

"NOW!"

"...Dad…"

"COME ON!"

"No...I'm...tired."

"YOU'RE WEAK!"

Lottie twitched her eye slightly then yawned, her legs now feeling like jelly. Lottie laid herself down beside her father. She scooted in towards him. In contrast to the cold air, there was something so warm about him. Lottie nuzzled her head into his chest, right where his heart was. She could hear it beating.

Her eyes fluttered as he yawned for the last time. There wasn't even a centimeter between her and Chucky as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Then she softly took his arm, which rested on his hip, and draped it around her. The rainbow fabric of his sweater like sleeve warmed her up little by little along with his body heat. Lottie was completely nestled in.

Chucky didn't wake. He was out like a light, a light that had been smashed with a hammer.

"...Daddy…" whispered Lottie as sleep once again reclaimed her.

The next morning, Lottie was among one of the first to be up. It was dark no more, the sun was up and had exterminated that nightly nip with its presence. She was no longer in her father's embrace, Chucky was gone.

She glanced around, Glen and Glenda still slept as they were. Lottie sighed and got up. Wierd, the night before she couldn't feel but as she stretched she almost felt genuine relief, the physical kind.

"Lottie."

She jumped at the voice from behind her despite recognizing it, maybe that's why she did. It was Chucky, helping himself under the boxcar. He had just made a run to the non perishable filled train car judging by the canned food he had brought with him. He set the food aside, he would have to make another fire to cook it. And by he, I mean Glen.

Lottie didn't say anything. She just stared at him bewildered, currently fighting the urge to put her hands on her face. Somewhere in the back of her mind she didn't think he was going to wake this morning, but yet there he stood. Friendly and naive smirk on his face.

"Lottie…" he went up to her, "What's wrong?"

"I..I…" Lottie was able to barely speak. Chucky took her hand in his.

"Aww...it's the doll body, isn't it. Don't worry, today's going to be a lot better, I promise," her dad said, "I brought food, you could still enjoy that." he glanced over at the sleeping Glen and Glenda.

"Sure," he snickered, "Sleep in why don't they? Why the fuck not? I'll just do all the work."

"I was just...worried about you." Lottie finally said. There was an uneasy tone as she spoke, as if she was hiding something. Chucky knew this and shrugged it off, what would she have to hide.

"Worried?" Chucky raised an eyebrow, "What's to worry about? I feel fine...though I woke up with a bitch of headache," he rubbed the back of his head, picking off some of the dried mud from his hair, "Damn, what hit me? And what the hell is with all this dirt?" Lottie's mouth fell. Did he really not remember? Any of that? Unless...the concussion.

"You...don't remember?" Chucky tilted his head.

"I remember...talking to you and some dirt...I think. But after that everything's sort of a blur. You know what happened?"

Lottie gulped. 'I tried to kill you the other night, dad. There was nothing I wanted in that exact moment than to see you dead'. She could go about it that way. But she was hesitant. The guilt and regret was now beginning to set in. It had carried over to her dreams the previous night, but now it was just more potent. Her father genuinely cared about her and this was Chucky we're talking about. A slasher whose cruelty and bloodlust was limitless...but not limitless enough to stop him from having kids, a family. Something no one like him truly deserved. But yet, he was trying. He was trying to keep his kids safe and wife happy.

It was just so complex for little nine year old Lottie. Should she tell him? It wasn't the first time one of his children had tried to kill him, but it was the first time it didn't work. What would happen from here? What would Chucky think? Would he congratulate her for showing traces of his own evil (lack for better word)? Give her praise and love for his own attempted murder? What would become of their relationship, their family? Would they eventually grow apart? Lottie wasn't sure until it finally made sense...who to blame.

Herself. She had never truly lost herself like that. Lottie knew what she had down the night before, she had memories of it that were now burned into her mind. That unbridling rage, that monster, that voice in her head. She wasn't going to plead insanity, cowards do that. She'll take full responsibility for it.

But she'll do it on her own.

Lottie exhaled, "We were getting rain last night. You were getting food for us...then you slipped on the rails and hit your head." Chucky again rubbed at his head.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah...that's what happened."

"Huh, that doesn't sound like something I would do….but accidents happen, I guess. Thanks for looking out for me."

"Yeah…hey dad?"

"Hmm?"

Lottie suddenly wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against her father as hard as she could. Her lip quivered, but he couldn't see.

"I love you...so much." Chucky took time to register this before returning the hug, resting his chin atop of his daughter's head.

"I love you too, kiddo," he kissed her head, "What's gotten into you? Bad dream?"

"Yeah…" she hugged him tighter, "You might say that." Chucky let her go.

"You hungry?" he asked. Lottie nodded, "I need to get more firewood. Wake your brother and sister, will you?"

"Sure thing." Chucky began his way out from under the car, "Hey dad."

"What?" he looked back.

"Try not to fall out there," smiled Lottie.

"Appreciate the concern," he laughed and left.

Before Lottie could wake Glen and Glenda, she turned to reveal Tiffany, just standing there. Her mother stood with her arms crossed. The look on her face was akin the ones she would shoot her when she was caught stealing twizzlers from the ol' candy cupboard. Only this time, it just had more weight to it. Tiffany had seen everything.

"Mom…" Lottie began, "I-" Tiffany put her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"I don't like secrets," she said, "But I'm happy that you're both alright."

"I just...want to start over," said Lottie, another lip quiver. Tiffany was silent for a little. She cupped her daughter's face and caressed her cheek.

"You can tell him when you're ready."

That was all Lottie needed to hear. There were going to be some changes.

"You should've killed him! We had our cha-hey….what are you doing?

"Shutting you out."

"What!? You can't do that!"

"Watch me."

"Y-you need me! I can keep us alive!"

"I almost murdered my dad because of you."

"Y-you-YOU'RE AN IDIOT IF YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT THERE WITHOUT ME!"

"No...you're just going to drag me down. You're not me, you're just rage. Worthless rage, just looking for reasons to hurt people...the people I love."

"SHUT UP! I SEE THE WORLD AS IT REALLY IS!"

"I'm done listening you."

"DON'T...I need you."

"No more...never again."