Work Text:
You wear the same jewels
That I gave you
As you bury me
— My Tears Ricochet, Taylor Swift
28 OCTOBER
He told me, you know. What you did.
“You need to be specific. I did a lot of things.”
How you tortured him. Tazed him. Tried to inflict pain until he had no choice but to turn into a monster.
“ Your point?”
Oh, Wednesday Addams. Don’t you see? We’re not so different, you and I.
20 OCTOBER
To Wednesday’s surprise, it was Bianca, and not Eugene, who almost vomited at the sight of Laurel Gates’ huge swollen face; pus mixed with blood smeared the area where Wednesday had kicked her. Bianca was quick to position herself next to Laurel’s legs, refusing to lay her eyes on the disfigured appearance. Eugene, in the meanwhile, showed no reservation as he moved to grab Laurel’s lower back just like Wednesday instructed; she figured it wasn’t his first experience with bee stings. Wednesday herself was squatting down near Laurel’s head, slipping her hands under the woman’s neck and upper back.
On Wednesday’s count, the three lifted the unconscious body together and carried it all the way to their destination. It was a difficult task, and they had to stop at least four times to take a breather before continuing. Bianca kept shuddering in disgust and mumbling something about bleaching her own eyes. And yet, she walked on. And although supporting Laurel’s dead weight got Eugene constantly tripping over his own feet, he never complained nor demanded a reason when Wednesday asked him if she could lock Laurel up in the Hummers’ shed. Wednesday advised them to stay away while she bound and gagged Laurel by herself, trying to spare them from even bigger guilt. And somehow, they were still standing by the door when Wednesday finally came out of the shed.
Wednesday never told them that their camaraderie kept her grounded that night. How they made her want to be generous. So much, that she wouldn’t mind reciprocating a hug.
26 OCTOBER
Wednesday was compelled to admit that there was one benefit of having a cellphone.
It was the day after her return to the Addams Manor, and Lurch burst through her bedroom door with Thing in his grasp. The disembodied hand jumped onto her lap when he was close enough, frantically waving the cellphone he was holding. Wednesday took it from him and looked at the screen, finding a message from Enid.
thing did you hear!!??!?!?!??!?!? tyler escape!!!!!!! 😱☠️😱😱💀💀☠️☠️
There was a hyperlink underneath the text, which Wednesday clicked. A news article appeared afterward, revealing a headline that said, "Outcast Inmate Escapes in Jericho." Wednesday skimmed for relevant information while muttering to herself, "Tyler Galpin. Dangerous. On the way to Willowhill. Around ten in the morning. Heavily injured six guards. Eyewitness accounts. Couldn't explain what happened. Mister Galpin was sedated and everything was going according to the plan until the van reached the road between the woods. Mister Galpin transformed into a violent creature all of a sudden."
Just then, the phone vibrated and a notification for a new message came into view.
did wednesday know anything about this!?
Wednesday pondered Enid’s question. Did she?
She considered these facts: One, she had made Lurch collect Laurel from the Hummers’ shed as soon as he arrived at Nevermore to bring Wednesday home. Two, Lurch had put Laurel in the trunk of the hearse. Three, she had spotted a prison van driving past the hearse not long before Tyler’s escape. Four, she had a theory that Tyler could sense his master and hoped to test it out.
So, to answer Enid’s question, did she know anything about this? A smile threatened to slit her mouth.
Maybe she did.
31 OCTOBER
Wednesday knew he'd wait because that was exactly what she would have done. She would have waited until Mother, Father and Grandmama would be holed up in the mausoleum to perform the ancestral rite. Until Thing and Lurch would go to accompany Pugsley to terrorize the neighborhood children. She would have waited until then to sneak into the manor, and she knew that was what Tyler would do too.
And she was correct.
That night, when Tyler opened the door to the dungeon where she’d been expecting him, Wednesday greeted him with a smirk.
“Hello, Tyler.”
The door swung shut behind him as Tyler swaggered his way to Wednesday and the woman at her feet. When he stepped under one of the dim lights, Wednesday noticed a different air about him. The fresh gashes on his face were his, but it was obvious that he was wearing someone else’s clothes; they were not his size, they were not his colors, they were not him . The prodigal son came home to her, all poor and ragged.
From where she was lying on her stomach, with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles secured with a rope, Laurel struggled to raise her head toward the intruder. “Tyler! Tyler! You’ve come to save me!”
Tyler scrunched his nose and dropped his eyes at Laurel before glancing back up to Wednesday. “You should lock your doors. There are some real sick people out there.”
“We prefer to keep all doors and windows open during All Hallow’s Eve to welcome ghosts and evil spirits alike.”
“I thought you’d be with your parents or go trick-and-treating with your brother. I saw them leaving the house earlier.”
“They know I have more pressing matters.”
Tyler chuckled. “I’m flattered.”
Laurel had been quietly watching the conversation but at this, she began to thrash around. She did manage to get Tyler's attention in the process, and he finally acknowledged her presence. "What's all this?"
Wednesday replied before Laurel could. “My apology gift.”
"An apology? From Wednesday Addams?" Tyler snickered. "And why am I not shocked to find that you've been leading me here on purpose?"
“I admit I was—,” Wednesday paused, mulling over phrases, “—impulsive when I tortured you that night. At the time, I thought you were already masterless. A loose monster.”
“I thought you enjoy tortures.”
“I do. But I have since realized that by forcing you to morph into the Hyde through physical torture, I was acting like your master.”
He snorted. “Now we don’t want that, do we?”
“Hence, my apology.”
“What do you suppose I should do?”
At his query, Laurel seemed to remember that she was still his master. Her voice, louder this time, echoed throughout the dungeon as she commanded, “Kill her, Tyler! She hurt you, she said it herself! Kill her!”
From the way Tyler straightened his back, Wednesday could tell that Laurel had set off a reaction in him. And for the first time since he entered the dungeon, he addressed her. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he drawled. “I mean I did escape after I sensed you, and I wandered around aimlessly just to locate you here. But the whole time I was separated from you, taking no orders, I discovered something. I liked it better that way.” His eyes went wide as he resumed, “And you want to know something else?”
Wednesday held her breath in anticipation as Laurel lay still.
Tyler sneered. “The monster liked it too.”
A beat passed before Laurel realized what Tyler's words meant to her authority over him. But more importantly, to her life. "No, no! You can't! Don't kill me, kill her!" She started squirming too, and her arm grazed against Wednesday's boots. Wednesday, who had been witnessing the scene in front of her with great interest, frowned at the other woman. She was reminded of Bianca, finally understanding the siren's repugnance at their former botany teacher. At that, she stood aside and made her way to the exit. She could feel Tyler's gaze on her and was not at all surprised when he called out to her.
“Hey, you’re not staying for this?”
Wednesday turned to him and raised her shoulders faintly. “Just leave your gift for me in the living room.”
"I didn't know we were exchanging gifts. I don't bring any with me right now," he protested. "How about I let you live? How's that for a gift?"
"You're giving me my life, which I already own? How boring," Wednesday said, and swiftly left the dungeon. As she ascended the staircase, she thought about her mother. Morticia would tsk over Wednesday's uncharacteristic reluctance to see things through to completion. "Who taught you to be so trusting, Child?"
Her mother wouldn’t get it. It wasn’t Tyler whom Wednesday trusted; it was herself. And Wednesday knew Tyler was glad to receive his present. She knew he would take Laurel’s life slowly and painfully to free himself from his useless master once and for all.
Because that was exactly what she would have done.
1 NOVEMBER
Pugsley, Thing and Lurch didn’t return until after midnight, while Mother and the rest were at the mausoleum until dawn. All in all, everyone was too exhausted to pay attention to the slightly altered ofrenda until they all gathered in the living room after breakfast.
“Is that why I kept hearing noises from the kitchen all morning?” Pugsley asked as he studied the additional food on the altar.
“I thought it was just a poltergeist,” Grandmama commented.
Wednesday instantly recognized the new offering: A chocolate cake that is so dark, it was almost black. She guessed that it was made out of ninety-eight percent chocolate ganache to match her and her family’s—both dead and undead—preferred color palette. Instead of a tiny grim reaper and a pink balloon, though, there were ten unlit candles on the cake; two of which were much shorter than the others. She was just marveling at their unusual shapes when it occurred to her that they might not be candles after all. She approached the ofrenda, then, and exhaled through her nose when she found out what they really were.
“Did you just laugh?” Beside her, Pugsley inquired.
Wednesday ignored him and continued admiring the cake as well as Laurel Gates' ten severed fingers that were stuck in it. She wondered if Laurel was still alive when the Hyde pulled her digits apart. Or was it Tyler who did it? She wondered if he used her favorite bone saw that she stored in the dungeon. Either way, as Morticia said, the cake was "adequately creative."
“Thing, look!” Gomez exclaimed, gesturing at the cake. “The monster made you a friend!”
6 JANUARY
Being an Addams, Wednesday had no need for discounts. But her profound appreciation for the apocalyptical chaos that accompanied Black Friday always filled her with what normies referred to as holiday cheer. Usually, Wednesday would be more than content to visit the nearest warehouse store and just watch people shoving at each other from afar. This year, though, she actually wanted to make a purchase and decided to join the mayhem—only to become sorely disappointed by the end. Most people had chosen to waste their money online from the safety of their own dwellings, resulting in less crowd. Moreover, fighting over items turned out to be easier than she thought, thanks to her intimidating glare. And whenever she desired certain products inside other shoppers' carts, Thing would simply steal them for her.
Honestly, the Rave’n was better. At least her schoolmates had the decency to topple over each other as they scrambled on the slippery dance floor.
That said, on that particular Friday, she left the store feeling triumphant, having successfully acquired what she was hunting for. These items were the very reason she was in the woods behind the cemetery in early January, following a game of chase with the sentient tree, Ichabod.
The sixth day of the first month was a cause for both celebration and lamentation for Wednesday. While its arrival marked the end of Christmastide consumerism, it also heralded her upcoming return to Nevermore. As Wednesday entrusted a medium-sized black box containing winter-appropriate men's clothing in the branches of Ichabod, she couldn't know for sure if it was a mere farewell present or a gift as valuable as myrrh. She couldn't even know for sure whether or not Tyler still lurked around the manor, although something told her that he did.
(That “something” being multiple iced quads that had been mysteriously materializing in various corners of the house. Her father had more than once likened him to an elf).
13 JANUARY
Enid had compared Wednesday to her mom. “What’s the point of owning a cellphone when you never bring it anywhere?” Enid had said. “My mom does this too all the time.” So, when the two girls came back to their room after class to find Wednesday’s cellphone cracked, smashed, destroyed and abandoned on the floor, Enid was hysterical. “See? What did I tell you? You’re supposed to keep your phone with you all the time! Who would do such a thing? Who would do this? And on Friday the thirteenth? Of all days?”
While Enid went on one of her rants, Wednesday caught something out of the corner of her eye and turned toward her desk. At a glance, nothing seemed out of place. But then she sauntered closer, and there it was. A new sheet of paper had been loaded into her typewriter. A two-word sentence that didn't belong to Viper had been typed on it.
You’re welcome!
19 JANUARY
Nevermore treated its most famous alumni like its patron saint and granted the students and faculty a holiday to commemorate Edgar Allan Poe’s birth. Most, if not all, of them opted to use the day off to explore Jericho or other nearby towns, creating a perfect chance for Wednesday to break into the administrator’s office.
Assisted by Thing and his ever-growing skill at poking around, Wednesday found what she was searching for within a snap of the fingers. Their efficiency allowed her enough time to walk to Jericho and show her face there before anyone could get suspicious.
As Wednesday strolled around to make sure she could have an alibi if needed, she glimpsed Sheriff Galpin on one corner of the streets, looking more appalling than ever. She had heard all the ghastly rumors surrounding him. They said he never came home anymore. They said he would sleep inside the cell in the sheriff's station every night as if he wanted to hold himself accountable for what happened . Judging by the bags under his eyes, the rumors seemed true.
Wednesday sighed in relief. This meant she was right to send Thing to the Galpin’s house to slide the files they had procured from the administrator’s office under the front door. If her assumption was accurate and Tyler was indeed hiding inside, he would be there to receive her latest gift.
Wednesday got the confirmation soon enough.
When she arrived back in her dorm room that night, a black dahlia already sat on her typewriter. Wednesday scoffed. Of course he knew that the academy would be empty. Years of serving blended iced coffee to Nevermore students had its perks.
She looked at the paper in the typewriter, then. As expected, a message was written there.
Hey, girl! Are you the origin of Valentine’s Day? Because you’re as dark and spooky as an empty house.
She almost cringed.
14 FEBRUARY
As Tyler put it, his house was dark and spooky. But, just like he said, so was she. Wednesday relished the absence of light in and around the house. The shadows camouflaged her well, providing her with the opportunity to stealthily climb up the porch and reach the window on the second floor. She perched on the ledge like a bird of prey, listening to the muted sounds from her target as he moved around behind the curtained window.
He made it so easy.
Without warning, she knocked on the glass. She subsequently heard a familiar voice from the other side of the window. “Holy shit!”
Within the seconds Tyler spent to calm himself down, tiptoe toward the window and slide it up, Wednesday indulged in a half smile that vanished as soon as his face appeared. She let herself in, and Tyler drew the curtain and closed the window in a hurry.
“Why can’t you sneak in from the front door?” he asked in a hushed tone. “You know, like a normal burglar.”
Instead of answering, Wednesday inspected his bedroom. Tyler had not switched on the big ceiling light, for obvious reasons, and the only sources of illumination came from a variety of small lamps with warm bulbs that were scattered all over his room; on his dresser, on his bedside table, on his desk, on his other desk. Why did he even need so many small lamps? However, when Wednesday finally adapted to the murkiness that engulfed them, Tyler’s affinity for table lamps completely evaded her.
She stared at his shirt and the T-shirt underneath it—both similarly mud-colored—before focusing on his black jeans. "You're wearing the clothes I gave you," she observed.
“I have to,” Tyler told her. “I had to transform and wrestle Ichabod for two days and one night to get them!”
Wednesday was quite pleased with herself. Not only would they help him become more obscure, especially when he had to conceal himself in the woods, the colors she picked for him complimented his skin tone and the coffee-hued curls, causing him to look distinctly him . She wanted to see him buried in this outfit. Or the other pieces she gifted him in January for that matter.
But that wasn’t why she was here. Why was she here?
"Why have you summoned me?" she said as if she were the devil herself.
“What do you mean why? I have to get you something in return for your present.” Tyler turned to his left to hunch over one of his desks, and only then did Wednesday notice the laptop on its surface. At Tyler’s touch, the device woke up, exposing him to the brightest light in the room.
“So,” Wednesday prompted, “you’ve seen them?”
He was fumbling with the keyboard as he continued, "You meant photos of my mom in fencing competitions during her time in Nevermore? I sure have." He paused to swallow, and when he proceeded, his voice sounded softer, as if he didn't remember that Wednesday was there with him. "She looked so happy. It makes me question myself about all the lies the witch told me."
Despite herself, Wednesday took a step forward. “At least she’s dead now.”
Tyler grabbed the sides of his laptop, then, and held it with him as he met Wednesday’s eyes once more. “Ding dong," he blurted out and laughed at his own joke. He stood there, basking in the light emanating from the screen. It created an illusion, making his grin look eerie. The scars that adorned his skin had started to heal, but they became conspicuous again all of a sudden. When he approached her, she thought he would end her then and there.
But then he glided past her, going straight to the head of the mattress. He sat on one side of the bed and leaned on the headboard as he extended his legs. Wednesday gave him a quizzical look, to which he responded with a jut of his chin. "What are you doing still standing there?" he asked. "Come sit next to me."
Wednesday was tempted to turn the big lamp on just so he could see her glare. And he must have read her mind because he quickly said, "Relax, I'm not going to do anything. This is my gift to you, alright?" When she didn't react, he added, "Suit yourself. You're the one who started the whole thing, anyway."
She hated it when he was right.
And so Wednesday walked to the other side of the bed and followed his cue. She removed her boots, reclined her back against the headboard and stretched her legs on the bed. Meanwhile, Tyler giggled as he put his pillows on their laps and rested his laptop above them. Just when Wednesday was wondering what made him so giddy, he pushed the spacebar, and a movie played on the screen.
It was around the four-minute mark when Wednesday squinted and said accusingly, “This is the exact same movie as the last time.”
"No, it isn't."
She raised her eyebrows as the realization hit her. "It has a sequel?"
“Elle Woods goes to D.C.!”
"How long is this one? What if your father decides to come home out of the blue? Why are you hiding here, anyway?”
“It’s called hiding in plain sight, Wednesday! Choose the place least likely to be investigated. You want to know where I stayed before this?”
Wednesday had a feeling she would regret it, but her natural curiosity drove her to ask, “Where?”
“Hyde Park!”
She rolled her eyes.
Tyler let out a snort. He fixed his eyes on his laptop again when he stated, "And don't worry. Even before the whole thing happened, my dad was never home during Valentine's. Why would he miss his chance to walk in on promiscuous teenagers and threaten to call their parents? This is his time to shine!"
Wednesday watched him wordlessly before her gaze settled back on the blonde lawyer. She huffed loudly just to inform him of her annoyance. But, afterward, she stopped interrupting and only offered her comment after the end credits rolled.
“Well, that was the real torture.”
"Yeah, this one wasn't good," Tyler agreed. He closed his laptop mindlessly, seemingly forgetting to take into account the possible awkward silence that could and would befall them. His room was suddenly dark again; the shadows were stifling and absorbing all kinds of noises, even the ones outdoors.
Perhaps in an attempt to break the tension, Tyler finally whispered to her, “Your court.”
Right. It was her turn to gift him, and she didn't bring anything. On Hallow's Eve, he had nothing either. But the memory gave her an idea, although if she was honest with herself, she had thought about it for a while. She was aware of her back slipping down the headboard. And if her temple somehow ended up on his upper arm, she would blame the dark.
“I’m sorry I tazed you, but I can’t promise I won’t administer an electric shock through your body in the future,” Wednesday said, and Tyler’s shoulders shook when he chuckled. She resumed, “If you die before me, I will keep your body in a cooling machine. It will be more convenient if your death occurs in the manor. But if you perish at a random location, I will have Lurch pull the machine home. Then I will tell him to drag your body to the attic, where I will lay you on an examination table constructed of iron. I will attach metal rods to your face, torso and limbs before applying electricity to them. If it's not enough, I will use one of my brother's explosives to put a hole in the roof, so that when it rains, lightning will strike the metal rods. And I will do it until your face convulses, your muscles contract and your heart beats."
Tyler hummed at that. The sound he made was muffled because he had somehow pressed his face onto the top of her head, and maybe it was the dark's fault too. Wednesday could feel his smile rustling her hair as he replied to her.
“You’d gift me my life, which I'd give to you, anyway?” Tyler said. “How boring.”
End.