Chapter Text
Lightning flashes in the sky above her head, momentary providing light in the darkness. Wednesday cranes her neck trying to see through the fog, attempting to remember where she is and how she got here when a figure materializes in front of her. Goody walks toward her, stopping only when she is a foot in front of Wednesday and Wednesday nearly groans in annoyance.
“You have succeeded in stopping Joseph Crackstone’s resurrection, though it was much bloodier than I foresaw.”
“If your messages had been clear instead of cryptic, maybe the only blood spilled would have been of Crackstone’s descendant.” Wednesday huffs, memories of the crypt slowly starting to filter into her brain. Tyler’s bloody body flashes before her eyes and a wave of coldness settles over her, seeping into her bones. “Where’s Tyler? Is he alive?”
“You are the raven in my bloodline. The path of a raven is a solitary one. You end up alone, unable to trust others, only seeing the darkness in them.”
Wednesday drowns out Goody’s words after she admits Wednesday is destined for a solidary life. Nothing else she says matters. Alone. It’s what Wednesday once though she wanted, desired for most of her life. Tyler was unexpected, a plot twist she could never have foreseen, but one she's come to crave. Alone now means Tyler’s dead and she’ll spend her life grieving the absence of the boy she fell in love with in the short amount of time she was permitted to know him. Her heart shatters in her chest, knees threatening to buckle at the weight of despair that floods her body.
“But you have been awarded a soulmate whose darkness reflects your own, whose light brings out the light you keep buried deep. Fight for him. Keep him with you or your life will not be a happy one.”
Goody’s words cut though her grief and Wednesday whips her head up to stare at her ancestor. Fight for him? That has to mean… “Is Tyler alive?” She demands, not allowing herself to hope it’s true.
“A raven doesn’t often accept their soulmate, but when they do, they develop a deep bond that cannot be so easily broken.”
Goody’s words are as cryptic as ever and Wednesday is tired of deciphering her messages. “Is. He. Alive?” Wednesday demands, punctuating her words with a snarl.
“You tested the limits of your bond. Even I do not know his fate.”
Wednesday lets out a loud yell of frustration. Her rage, fear and despair becoming too much and requiring a release. Why is Goody here if she cannot tell her the one truth she desperately seeks?
“My blood runs through your veins. I could have saved you that night.” Goody continues without acknowledging Wednesday’s outburst. “But I could not have saved your soulmate. I could not guarantee he would live. Would you have wanted to be saved, knowing he might die?”
Pain shoots through Wednesday’s chest, stabbing into her heart. She doesn’t need to think about her answer. She knows she wouldn’t have accepted Goody’s help. Not when she was soaked in Tyler’s blood, his heart slowing beneath her fingers as his breathing stopped. She wouldn’t have allowed Goody to save her if it meant living in a world without Tyler. Maybe it didn’t even matter. She’s alive without Goody’s interference and Tyler may still be dead.
Goody doesn’t wait for her to verbalize her response, already knowing her answer. “I can guide you. Teach you to master your visions so they do not take such a toll of your body. But for now, we are out of time.”
Wednesday doesn’t have time to ask what she means before Goody and the fog surrounds them fades, leaving her in darkness with only an incessant beeping. As the beeping gets louder, Wednesday becomes aware of a pressure pushing down on her throat, not from the outside, but from within. She begins to panic, attempting to use her hands to dislodge the pressure only to find them heavy and sluggish.
“Wednesday? OH MY GOD, WEDNESDAY!” She hears through the darkness, the panicked frantic voice undoubtedly belonging to her roommate. “Wait. Wednesday, stop!”
Hands appear on her arms, pushing them back down, erasing the few inches she had managed to lift them. Her feels dizzy, her thoughts spinning as she continues to try to take short, fast breathes around the pressure.
“Wednesday, stop.” Enid pleads and Wednesday hears a loud long beep, noticeably different from the continued short beeps. “You’re in the hospital on a ventilator. I already called for the nurse. She should be here soon.”
Enid’s hands push her hands away from her throat again and with great difficulty, Wednesday pries her eyes open. She squints against the bright lights, blinking away the blurriness until Enid’s face comes into focus. She’s leaning over Wednesday in her hospital bed, unshed tears in her eyes as her lip quivers.
“I can’t believe you’re finally awake.” Enid’s words come out wet and disbelieving before she launches herself forward and wraps her arms around Wednesday’s sluggish body. Enid pulls back, moving away from the bed when hurried footsteps reach her room and a young, tired nurse bustles inside. She gives Enid a disapproving look, but hurries to Wednesday and carefully extracts the tube from her throat.
“Don’t try to talk. Small sips.” The nurse instructs, holding a paper cup of water up to Wednesday’s lip. She takes a small drink, the water cool and welcoming against her sore, irritated throat. “The doctor should be in shortly. Try not to move too much until she arrives.”
The nurse jots down some notes in her file, giving Enid another look before she leaves, shutting the door behind her.
“I’m not supposed to be here.” Enid explains, when Wednesday raises an eyebrow in question. “ICU rules. Family only. I think they finally got tired of kicking me out.”
Wednesday would be proud of Enid’s deviousness, if she wasn’t so confused about what was going on. “What happened?” Wednesday croaks, taking an embarrassingly long time to utter the short sentence, the words scraping painfully against her throat.
“No talking!” Enid yelps, jumping up and holding the cup up to Wednesday’s mouth, much to her relief. “You don’t remember what happened?” She asks when Wednesday has finished drinking.
Wednesday tries to think, but the fog is too thick for her to access her memories. She shakes her head no, regretting the movement when pain spikes from the back of her skull.
“Oh.” Enid seems startled and a little uncertain. She opens her mouth to speak, but the door opens, and a woman Wednesday assumes is her doctor enters.
“Ms. Sinclair, I see you’ve managed to evade security again.” She says when her eyes fall on Enid, though her voice sounds almost amused. Enid shrinks back guiltily, but makes no move to leave the room, instead resuming her seat in the chair off to the corner of the bed.
“Ms. Addams, I’m glad you’re finally awake. You’ve given your family and friends quite a scare.” She pushes a couple buttons on the machine Wednesday is hooked up to, humming quietly at whatever information it supplied. She rolls a stool over to Wednesday’s bedside, taking a seat before addressing Wednesday again. “I know your throat is sore, but I need you to answer a couple of questions. What is your name? The month? Or just the year?”
Wednesday answers each question slowly, her doctor smiling at each correct answer.
“That’s good. Now, do you remember anything from before you woke up?”
Wednesday racks her brain, but like before, the fog around her memories is too thick to breach. She mutters her response, the doctor’s smile dimming briefly.
“That’s okay. Sometimes memories take a little while to return.” She reassures. “You’ve experienced quite an ordeal. You were admitted with a fractured skull. The trauma to the back of your head resulted in bleeding and swelling on your brain. We made the decision to induce a medical coma to allow your brain to receive another oxygen to heal properly. You’ve been asleep for almost three weeks.”
Wednesday’s head spins as she grapples with the information, eyes drifting toward Enid, who confirms the words with a nod. Three weeks. She’s been asleep for three weeks. She doesn’t want to believe it, but it explains the pain in her skull and her sluggish body. If only she could remember what happened the earned her a trip to the hospital in the first place.
“I’ll be back later to check on your progress. A nurse should be by in a couple of hours to change the bandages on your head. If you need anything, I’m sure Ms. Sinclair can show you have to contact your nurse. Try not to talk too much and remember to only take small sips until the soreness is gone from your throat.” The doctor stands, offering her one last small smile before she exits the room.
“Enid.” Wednesday says, the words slightly less painful than when she first woke up. “What happened?”
Enid inhales deeply through her nose, blowing the air out through her mouth. Her eyes are wet again, smalls tears trickling down her cheek as she begins to speak. “You and Tyler. When I found you in the crypt, I thought you were both dead.”
Enid’s voice hitches, but Wednesday barely hears it. With Enid’s words, memories begin to flood her brain, growing more painful with each scene that flashes through her mind. She remembers Tyler leading her through the woods to a date in Crackstone’s crypt. She remembers a blinding pain in her head before blacking out. She remembers waking up to Thornhill leaning over her, taunting her until Tyler killed her with his claws. Her body runs cold, heart aching when the next scene flashes across her brain. She watches as blood gushes from Tyler’s abdomen, can still feel the warm liquid soaking through her own clothing.
“Tyler. Where’s Tyler?” Wednesday doesn’t even try to hide the panic in her voice, her brain barely even registering the burn in her throat. She forces herself into a sitting position, breathing heavily from the exertion of moving her tired body. Her eyes are wide, staring at Enid as she approaches the bed, desperately waiting for an answer.
“Tyler is…” Enid pauses, fingers fidgeting with the edge of Wednesday’s blanket as she bites her lip.
“He’s dead.” Wednesday says emotionlessly, carefully turning her head, wincing when pain shoots through her skull. She doesn’t need Enid to see the tears forming in her eyes. Her stomach twists painfully, like something heavy is pressing down on her organs, nearly causing her to double over in pain. An anguish like no other lays beneath her sternum, wrapping around her heart and clenching painfully. She struggles to breathe, choking on the air trapped in her throat. She feels like she’s being ripped open and something inside her is trying to tear itself from her body. Her soul, she realizes. It’s reaching out for Tyler, searching for its other half that’s no longer among them.
“What? NO! No, Wednesday!” Enid yells frantically. She places her hand gently on Wednesday’s shoulder, a silent request for her to listen. “Tyler’s alive. He’s fine – well not fine, neither of you are fine, and don’t think we aren’t going to talk about this when you’re well enough for me to yell at you!” Enid huffs with a glare.
Wednesday barely hears anything after Enid confesses Tyler’s alive. A glimmer of hope she dares not believe burns painfully in her chest. Tyler can’t be alive. She saw the knife in his abdomen, saw all the blood he lost pooling beneath them on the crypt floor. She remembers his final words and the sound of his haggard breathing before he took his last breath. Goody’s words from her vision return to her and she remembers her ancestor’s words about fighting for Tyler and keeping him with her always. She allows herself the tiniest sliver of hope as she turns her head back to Enid with pleading eyes.
“He’s alive?” Wednesday asks, uncaring how desperate her voice sounds or that Enid can see the tears still traveling down her cheeks.
Enid smiles sadly and nods her head. “I forced him to let Ajax take him home so he could shower and eat something. He hasn’t left your bedside since they released him. I texted Ajax and I’m sure they’re already on their way back.” Enid reassures her, patting Wednesday’s hand before her face turns serious once again. “But he did die, Wednesday. Twice.”
Wednesday’s heart plummets at Enid’s words and she has to remind herself that Tyler’s alive. He died, but he’s okay now. She didn’t lose him. He came back to her.
“Once in the ambulance and once in surgery. Wednesday, if it wasn’t for the hyde, he wouldn’t be here.” Wednesday sniffles, using her arm to wipe away her tears then nods for Enid to continue.
“The knife pierced his liver and they had to remove most of it. He needed a blood transfusion, and he was hooked up to so many machines.” Enid swipes a hand over her own eyes then crosses her arms tightly over her chest, hugging herself, before continuing. “The poison…There were complications with the poison.”
Enid’s voice is small and fearful, eyes full of trepidation. Dread creeps up Wednesday’s spine and she struggles to keep her voice even when she speaks. “What complications?”
“He…His..” Enid stutters, struggling to get the words out. Wednesday nearly growls in frustration. She needs to know, the uncertainty weighing down on her chest. She has an uncomfortable feeling that Tyler is alive, but something is still wrong.
“He what? Enid, tell me!” Wednesday demands, voice rising, scratching painfully against her dry throat.
“The poison. It was too late and they…” Enid starts but is interrupted by a loud commotion in the hall.
The sound of loud voices, people yelling and hurried footsteps reaches her ears before her hospital room door is thrown open with a loud bang as it crashes against the wall. In the doorway stands Tyler looking slightly crazed. His nostrils are flaring as his chest heaves heavily, eyes wide and wild under a pair of wireframed glasses. Or one eye is, the other appearing dull and unresponsive.
“Wednesday.” He breathes, staring at her in disbelief. He stands frozen in the doorway for a second before ambling toward her, one hand held over his side where she last saw her dagger protruding from him. When Tyler reaches her side, he runs a hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her jaw. “You’re awake.”
His voice trembles and she briefly sees the tears in his eyes before he leans forward and buries his face in her chest, clutching onto her tightly. Sluggishly. she winds her hands around his body and pulls him tight against her, breathing in his scent and finally allowing herself to relax for the first time since her memories resurfaced. When he begins trembling against her and she feels wetness on her hospital gown, Wednesday realizes he’s crying. She pulls him tighter against her, removing one hand from his waist to run it through his curls and drops a kiss to the top of his head.
She waits, holding back her own tears, until eventually he lifts his head and offers her a small smile. When he pulls away to drag a chair towards her bed, Wednesday make a quick scan of the room and realizes its empty, her door pulled shut. Through the window she can see Enid talking animatedly with a nurse, Ajax at her side.
Making a last second decision, Wednesday stops Tyler when he goes to sit down in the chair, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back toward her bed. She forces her tired body to move, gently scooting over to make a space for Tyler, tugging on his hand until he climbs into bed with her. Tyler winds his hands around her body and Wednesday lays her head on his chest, listening as his heart beats steadily under her ear. The bed is too small to fit them both comfortably, but Wednesday doesn’t care. She needs him next to her, a solid presence at her side to remind her that he’s here and they both survived.
“Fuck, Wednesday. I didn’t think you were going to wake up.” Tyler whispers, his voice so full of devastation it pulls at her heartstrings. Tilting her head up, she places a kiss against his lips, letting her lips linger for a minute before pulling away.
“I’m here. I’m awake.” She whispers and Tyler exhales shakily, nodding his head. Her eyes focus on his new unexplained glasses, and she can’t help but run her fingers along the frames, gently running a thumb over the lens of his unresponsive eye. She flicks her eyes over to his good eye, wordlessly requesting an explanation.
“Enid didn’t warn you, did she?” Tyler asks quietly, hating the uncertain tone of his voice. He knows Wednesday’s feelings for him have nothing to do with his physical appearance, but he can’t help feeling insecure about his eye now. He’s still trying to come to terms with it, that he’s become physically and permanently altered. He won’t blame Wednesday if it takes some time for her to accept it too.
“The poison Thornhill used, it was in my system too long. Dad said they tried to pump my stomach in the ambulance, but I crashed and they were more concerned with restarting my heart than the poison.” He exhales loudly, squeezing Wednesday’s hand when she makes a small sound of distress. “One of the side effects of Gelsamine is blindless.”
He smiles at her sadly as she runs her thumbs under his eyes. “Just the one eye?” She asks.
“My right eye is too damaged to repair, but the left is slowly healing. Your mother theorizes the hyde is slowly healing it now that my body isn’t in peril. She says I shouldn’t need the glasses anymore by the end of the year.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at her before joking. “Hope you don’t mind dating a partially blind guy.”
Wednesday doesn’t smile. She just looks at him sadly. “Do you really think I’d care about that?”
“No. Not really.” Tyler answers because he knew she wouldn’t care, but his insecurity about his new disability doesn't listen to logic. He squeezes her waist tighter, nuzzling his face into her hand on his cheek. “I’m just still trying to accept it.”
Wednesday nods and Tyler almost misses her flinch. He assumes the movement irritated her still healing head wound and he drops a kiss to her forehead in comfort.
“I don’t care that you’re blind in one eye.”
It would be easy to take her blunt harsh words the wrong way. Only a couple weeks ago, he would have taken her statement as her not caring about him. Now, Tyler knows her well enough to understand what she’s really saying – that his vision impairment doesn’t affect how she feels about him. She pulls back from him slowly, putting enough space between their bodies to drag her hand down his chest. When she reaches the hem of his t-shirt, she lifts the fabric, eyes drawn to the large red line on his right side.
“Hyde healing.” He tells her. “It’s already weeks ahead of schedule. Still sore though.”
Wednesday runs her hands along the wound, pressing harder than what’s necessarily comfortable, but Tyler doesn’t stop her. After she’s satisfied with her inspection, she lifts her head to meet his gaze, her own eyes brimming with anger.
“She could have punctured your lungs. Don’t ever do that again.” She hisses.
Tyler gulps at her sudden anger, but he knows he can’t promise he won’t intercede if her life is in danger again. “I can’t promise that.”
She growls and Tyler thinks if she wasn’t injured, if her weapons hadn’t been confiscated when she was admitted to the hospital, she may have used her dagger on him. “I don’t need you to protect me, Tyler.”
“I know, but I wasn’t just protecting you.” He smiles at her sadly, holding her gaze with his one eye. “I was protecting myself too. I don’t want to live in this world without you. I wouldn’t survive it.”
Wednesday’s eyes flash in understanding and her scowl disappears, but her tone still holds anger when she speaks next. “You’ve killed for me. You’ve died for me. Now live for me. Live with me.”
Her words cause a sudden pang in his heart. He’d once vowed to himself that he would kill for her, he'd die for her. He’d never considered that he should make the promise to live with her, that his death would cause her just as much pain as hers would him.
“Ok.” He agrees. “I can do that.”
Wednesday scrutinizes him, eyes sweeping over his face as if she’s trying to determine if he’s sincere in his promise. Tyler gives her time, wondering how she sees him now. How different does he look to her with only one working eye? Does she find his glasses strange? He sends her a smile, opening his mouth to ask when her next words make him freeze.
“I love you.” It’s barely above a whisper, her face blank, but her eyes hold a fond determination.
Tyler is incapable of moving, continuing to look at her with his mouth agape. She loves him. It makes a warmth blossom in his chest, his skin vibrating with joy. He knew she had feelings for him, had admitted that she could love him, but he hadn’t expected her to admit she'd fallen in love with him. At least not yet.
“You love me?” He hears himself asking and Wednesday’s mouth draws into a scowl.
“Yes.” She huffs, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “I told you once before. You were too busy dying to hear it.”
Her words startle a laugh out of Tyler and Wednesday’s scowl deepens. “I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “I promise next time you confess your love, I’ll be certain to hear it. Even if I’m doing something as inconvenient as dying.”
“You better.”
Tyler laughs again, smiling down at the girl he loves, the girl that loves him. A part of him is still in disbelief that she’s here, awake and alive. “I love you too.” He says leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. Laying his head back against her pillow, he carefully pulls her back to his chest.
“Tell me what’s happened while I’ve been asleep.”
Tyler complies, rubbing his hand up and down the length of her back as he speaks. He tells her about the chaos at Nevermore since their night in the crypt, how the parents of the student body are in an uproar that a teacher tried to murder a student and her boyfriend in order to resurrect an Outcast hating bigot. He informs her Nevermore cancelled classes for the rest of the semester, sending the students home for an early winter break. Enid, he confesses, refused to leave and after a long, loud argument with Principal Weems, she and Ajax were only permitted to stay in Jericho because her parents offered to assume responsibility of them until Wednesday woke up.
Next, he shares he was questioned by the police once he’d awoken from surgery. He’d told them the truth about Thornhill attacking them when they entered the crypt for their date, injecting him with a poison after slamming Wednesday’s head into the wall to render her unconscious. He admits he lied and said he couldn’t remember anything after the poison, advising her to do the same when she’s inevitably questioned. With the help of his dad, they were able to convince Jericho PD Thornhill was killed by a wild animal that must have been scared off by the sound of Enid approaching the crypt. After finding the body parts of the dead hikers and the Yellow Jasmine Thornhill used to make the Gelsamine in her greenhouse, they concluded Tyler’s statement to be true, though they still remained puzzled how Thornhill killed her victims with such brutality. He suspects that will remain a mystery to them.
Tyler starts to tell how he became a nuisance to the hospital staff, sneaking out of his own ICU room to visit her when he realizes she’s fallen asleep. A jolt of fear shoots down his spine as he watches her lie still, chest barely rising and falling. It’s almost the same image he’d seen for the past couple of weeks, sans the tube down her throat. For a split second, he thinks he’s imagined it all, that Wednesday never woke up and, in his grief, he’d hallucinated it all.
When Wednesday’s fingers twitch and she moans softly as she nuzzles her face into his chest, Tyler releases the tension in his shoulders, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. With a final kiss to her head, Tyler allows himself to fall asleep with Wednesday in his arms.
Sometime later, Tyler wakes with the feeling that he’s being watched. Carefully, he extracts himself from Wednesday, sitting up to find Wednesday’s mother watching them from a chair against the wall, an old black leatherbound book across her lap.
“Hi.” Tyler smiles at her sheepishly. He’s gotten to know Wednesday’s parents a little over the last couple of weeks. They’d advocated for him with the hospital staff, arguing that as Wednesday’s soulmate he had the same rights as family in regard to visiting her. Both Gomez and Morticia have been overly welcoming and excited to get to know him, though he couldn’t help but still be a little nervous around them. “I can leave if you want some time alone with her.” He offers.
“Stay.” Morticia says, waving him off. “It’s not me Wednesday will want to see when she wakes again.”
Tyler feels heat on his cheeks at Morticia’s knowing smiling, but settles down next to Wednesday, making himself comfortable again. While he would have left if Wednesday’s parents wanted privacy, he’s grateful she hadn’t asked him to leave. After everything they went through, after they’d both had their own brush with death, Tyler never wants to leave Wednesday’s side again. Their bodies are a little damaged and broken, and Wednesday will take time to heal completely, but they survived. Miraculously, they’re both still here. He can feel deep down in his soul that they can tackle whatever the Universe throws at them next. As long as they remain together.
Four Months Later
“Are you ready?” Tyler asks as he hands Wednesday one of the two sledgehammers they stole from a construction site.
A wicked grin spreads across Wednesday’s face as she accepts it. Tyler leans back against the crypt wall and watches with his one good eye as she moves to stand over Crackstone’s remains. With both hands wrapped firmly around the handle, she raises the hammer over her head and slams it down on his skull. She lets out a huff of satisfaction as she brings down the sledgehammer again, bones smashing and flying into the air.
“Are you going to join me?” She asks, turning to face him, white bone dust coating her clothes and small shards of bone lodged in her braids.
He smiles, shoving off the wall to join her. Together they make quick work of destroying Crackstone’s remains, pulverizing his bones until he’s nothing more than white dust. Never again will they have to worry again about Crackstone rising and destroying Nevermore or hunting down Outcasts. Better safe than sorry, he figures.
His gaze drift towards the front of the crypt, smile falling when his eye lands on the large blood stain on the crypt floor. The spot where he almost died. More importantly, the spot where he almost lost Wednesday forever. At times, he can still feel the ache in thin white scar on his abdomen, though it’s nothing compared to the nightmares he has where Wednesday never wakes up.
A hand lands on his shoulder, and he turns his head to find Wednesday looking at him with a gentle smile, no doubt understanding where his thoughts have gone. She drops her sledgehammer, a loud clattering bang echoing through the crypt as it hits the floor.
“Are you ready to go?” She asks, holding her hand out to him.
“Yeah.” He nods, letting his own sledgehammer fall to the floor as he laces his fingers with hers. He doesn’t know what the future holds, likely more chaos, blood, and murder, but he knows he’ll enjoy the ride as long as Wednesday is at his side.