Dead Man Walking // self para
The day began like any other for a normal Saturday, Chandler spent the morning putting together his ensemble he planned to wear when he went out later that evening on a casual date. Homework sat untouched until he would cram the following Sunday and the plan was to skip the droll business meeting that was a tradition for the next morning. Morrigan needed her own school work to focus on, so he thought it best giving her the space and not play the distraction. He knew where she would be at all times, in her home, either on her bed or at her desk, proving herself the academic scholar even if that was never enough for some people in this house.
Chandler knew the moment he heard the ear-splitting bellows of his adopted father, he would never make it to the date. He'd been flipping through the script of that drama season's production of Cabaret when the house seemed to shake with blazing wrath sending an imaginary explosion down every hallway and room. The screaming did not come from Douglas's office, it didn't seep from downstairs where the Urie patriarch lost his temper on the housekeepers, no, there was one place and one place only it could have originated and it is a bedroom he knew like the back of his hand. Morrigan.
He had immediately bolted from his seat and planned on jumping to her rescue, but Douglas was aware what action his adopted son would take the minute the yelling started. Chandler tried the door, turning the handle every which way, and finding someone secured the lock from the other side. "No, no, no, no...." The panic in his voice rose as he continued wiggling the knob with more urgency. "Morrigan!" Chandler began banging the palm of his hand against the hard wood, hoping and praying by some miracle she would hear him calling for her, as if Douglas magically decided against what he planned on doing to his daughter just because Chandler begged.
As much as Chandler persisted, the door wouldn't budge. Some time passed, minutes, hours, who knew how long, but he stopped fighting for an escape before he finally heard the click again. It's ridiculous allowing his imagination run wild briefly, that the shouts and struggling from the other side were fever hallucinations brought forth by long practices and surviving on energy beverages. That as soon as the door would swing open, he would see Morrigan Urie with the rare smile on her face only the male had a knack for giving her. Instead, much to his disappointment, there stood a Urie crony. Chandler didn't remember his name, hardly mattered, but he cannot forget the man's death grip.
Chandler was more or less dragged from his room with every profanity spilling from his lips the entire way and forced in the direction of Douglas' office. They passed Morrigan's empty room, sending an icy suspicion through the young teenager on where she ended up and erasing the fear from his mind, before the pair reached the office. His captor unceremoniously shoved him inside the pitch black room and slammed the door behind him, not wasting the time watching Chandler almost struggling with regaining his footing. "You piece of shit!" Chandy rammed a fist against the oak door in frustration and turned around, expecting Douglas to be sitting in his chair at the carved desk.
The first thing Chandler noticed set on the desk itself was an open laptop. The only illuminating light, the focal point. A browser window covered the screen, whatever had been pulled up appeared bad quality, and it became clear that was due to the lighting within what the camera pointed at. This windowless room, the concrete walls, the minimal furniture. The location did not click for Chandler until he made the journey across the office and planted his feet in front of the computer. This, this was live security feed. The dungeon, a prison with an intended purpose for those who angered Douglas. And there, huddled on the dingy bed sleeping was... "Momo." That's it. Their father knew. How much is a guessing game, but judging by the fact she was locked away, he wanted a name. Chandler desperately needed to speak with her, find a solution to even pass a secret message to Desmond, who always knew how to solve their problems when they needed him.
"Oh, Morri..." He uttered in a hushed whisper. Chandler barely processed the state his best friend was in before the video showed Douglas unlock the door and entered the room with an imposing stance that reeked the threat of consequences. One word came through the audio, name, something Morri wouldn't ever provide for the safety of that boy. The lovesick boy, his sister's joy source from the moment they met. Chandler prayed their father would relent and leave to try another day when she didn't give him what he wanted, but he knew the next stage in Douglas' playbook.
His gaze followed every step the man took toward the cabinet and remove the whip, nausea and horror already mixing inside the teenager's stomach for what was about to happen. He didn't want to watch, he couldn't, not as Morrigan kneeled at her father's feet. Chandler needed to scream at her never to do such a thing and grant the asshole any satisfaction submitting, but what was she to do but take the punishment? "No...no, god, please-" The first whip crack sliced through the air with a deafening snap and mixed with Morri's agonizing screams, forcing his own from his lips as if either of them could hear it. "Stop it! Just stop it!"
Whip after whip, countless and each as brutal as the next, sliced through Morrigan's flesh and sent flecks of her blood coating both the whip and Douglas' emotionless features. After the last strike finally came to pass, Chandler couldn't bear watching any longer. By the time Douglas was refused the name and finally left the room, it clicked in his mind why that monster wanted him to play witness. Punishment for his involvement in the cover-up. Sooner or later, Douglas would demand a name from him too but not before he broke first.
The footage showed the dungeon door opening again, revealing not the old man, but Dezzie. This unkempt version of him is something Chandy wasn't accustomed to seeing. He looked exhausted, sporting a broken nose courtesy of Douglas, and his own punishment the Fitzgerald boy was not envious of. Cleaning the mess and seeing Morrigan's state with his own two eyes. He watched his brother mournfully, but that slightly changed when he noticed something. A small movement of a foot, Desmond lingering by the table, filling Chandler with a hopeful spark. But it wouldn't last.
It was nightfall before the same witless goon retrieved him again, leading the boy back to be confined in a bedroom that did not look the same as when he left it. Somebody took the time to stripe the blankets and pillow case from his bed, every article of clothing was missing from his wardrobe, and the temperature. It was like stepping into an ice box in the middle of Antarctica. No coat or covers in sight, he would be forced to sleep in the frigid cold. Chandler wrapped his arms tightly around himself and climbed on his bed, huddling in the hopes he could conserve heat and fighting to erase the images of his best friend, his sister's torment, from his mind.
But Douglas Urie wasn't about to allow him peace for that is when the true horror of his punishment began. Her screams suddenly blasted throughout his room and diminished what little silence remained. Blaring, loud, the same screams from Morrigan's whipping coming through the speaker of his intercom by the doorway. That fucker, that heartless abomination had recorded his little torture session with his daughter and subjected his adopted son in a reminder that her agony was his fault. Chandler pressed the palms of his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes tightly, and releasing a yell of anguish. He prayed to any god it would end with however many minutes Douglas spent flogging her, but no....it was played on a continuous loop. All night long.
He didn't sleep a wink.
Chandler lost his will to fight against the goon that dragged him from his room the next morning and once again haphazardly tossed him into Douglas' awaiting office. And there was the laptop, sporting a new feed as Douglas made his grand entrance through the basement's door. The teen dragged himself over where the device sat, shooting his father a glare of pure hatred as the burner phone had been tossed in Morrigan's direction. "Don't do it, Mor. Don't let him get in your head like this." He shook his head slowly, watching the interaction on bated breath. Her sobbing cut through him like a dagger and sliced the male to his deepest core.
What happened next was a blur. Morrigan lunging forward for a knife, screams flying past her lips, in a despairing attempt to cause mortal wounds to her father. Chandler couldn't deny any celebration if she succeeded in killing him, but there are no happy endings for people like them. He released a cry of her name as his hands reached for the laptop, gripping the screen tightly and willing Morri's courage to defeat a villain. But stories prove time and again that villains sometimes win against the good. Chandler's hand flew to his mouth to stifle his cries, growing louder with each punch Morrigan was administered.
It seemed Morrigan had enough. Chandler sunk to the floor laptop still in hand, utilizing the desk's side to lean against exhaustingly. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't watch her suffer until she succumbed. A flicker of consideration washed over the young man, just save face and save his sister by giving up Julian. Provide Douglas the name and this would all be over. Before the thought disappeared as he knew it would, Morri beat him to the punch. His gaze flickered over her features in stunned silence. She gave a name, alright, but it wasn't Julian's. His best friend just condemned another to die for the man she loved.
Chandler sat there on the floor until somebody was sent again to bring him back to his room. He anticipated the bedroom's interior to remain changed again, but nothing was different. Instead of the freezing atmosphere, Douglas turned up the heat. Hotter than a sauna, hotter than a desert, it was sweltering. No one could last remaining in this place without going insane. Chandy wiped a hand across his forehead and watched as it came back covered in sweat. "I want you to die..." He breathed out, lifting his head and shouting to the heavens as he screamed his next statement, "Do you hear that, you prejudiced fucker? I want you to fucking die!" His legs suddenly gave out from under him, emotion overtaking Chandler for the first time. The tears, the suffering, the overwhelming pain, he just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be the strong one. But what choice did he have?
Chandler knew what needed to be done. For Morrigan and for Julian.
The day Morrigan returned from her coma, Douglas finally released Chandler from the confines of his room. The temperature was dropped to his normal degrees and he was given a small window to visit the girl. He stayed by her side, holding her hand, and feeling completely numb. A silent agreement between siblings was reached that in order to keep the secret and keep Julian safe, the relationship had to end.
Julian cornered him a week later after he returned to school, catching Chandler in the hallway before first period.
"Chandler!" He watched Julian dodged other students as he squeezed through the crowd before catching up to Chandler. "What the hell happened? I sent you and Morrigan a bunch of messages and you both just went radio silent." Julian adjusted the strap of his bag and sighed. "I'm getting worried. What's going on?"
"I'm afraid I'll be the one to tell you this, but the relationship's over, Julian." Chandler knew that wouldn't be much of a reason however brief it was, but the energy to care was no longer present. He was tired and felt himself cracking at the seams.
"What? No, no. no, you can't just say it's over when I should be hearing this from her." Julian stepped forward with confusion and hurt tainting his vocal tone. How was he expected to understand throwing aside over a year's worth of a relationship and it wasn't even coming from Morri? None of this was even remotely right. "You owe me an explanation."
Something snapped inside of Chandler that he hasn't ever encountered before: pure rage. He whipped around on his heel and stalked over to the man he spent too many days protecting for his sister, his tone slightly raising a pitch. "I owe you nothing." A few students walking past the pair gave them a weary glance, but he honestly could throw them two shits anymore. He was done playing nice, he can't be right now. If he wanted Julian gone, safe, Chandler had to hit where it stung most. "Okay, fine, you want an explanation? The only reason Morrigan breathed in your direction and wasted her time sleeping around with you was because she needed the distraction. Our father's shitty, she wanted something fun to do, and she was bored. She, Desmond, and myself thought it would be enjoyable entertainment wrapping around a pretty guy naïve enough to have his head filled with the notion of true love." Chandler stepped closer, heart sinking as Julian's expression swept nothing but devastation. "You're nothing, Julian. You aren't like us. You, dove, are as stupid as you are handsome: in abundance on both counts."
"Chandler," Julian whispered quietly, knowing what the other was trying to do and still believing it anyway. "Don't do this..."
"You're hopelessly oblivious, dove, truly gullible to think she actually loved you." Chandler nodded once in resolution, releasing a scoff as his gaze swept the other, "Forget about us, Julian. Forget me, forget Dezzie, forget Morrigan. Move on with your miserable life and find another girl who doesn't gag each moment she is forced to spend in your pathetic presence."
Chandler immediately turned around and walked away at a fast pace before Julian could offer a response, hearing the man repeatedly call his name and ignoring the pleas. A Urie does not relent in the face of begging, not even from his best friend's now ex boyfriend. Erasing Julian from their lives was the best option, it was as if he actually was dead.
As he continued down the hallway with nothing painted along his usual playful features, that poor Brian Edwards wasn't the only man sentenced to death. Douglas killed Chandler Fitzgerald, broke him, molded him until he created the embodiment of a dead man walking. If he was going to hell, then he would take Douglas down with him.
Chandler couldn't stay. As soon as he graduated, he was leaving for good and never coming back.