Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wednesday remembers that day in crisp, clear details - as if it had happened just yesterday.

A blistering hot day in June, she was only five years old and still at the mercy of her parents’ decisions; and they had decided to go out that day. How woefully hilarious it is, that a single decision - that such a mundane desire to spend some time outside in horrid weather with family, brought Wednesday to her current state. That is fate for you, beautifully cruel in all the right ways; though if Wednesday ever gets the chance, she will strangle fate with its own thread for doing this to her. No one can torment Wednesday Addams and get away with it.

But, setting personal grudges aside, indeed it had been a summer day in June when Wednesday met Her. Had they been older, had Wednesday been a bit wiser; she would have fallen to a knee at that moment and presented her bleeding heart to Her. However, she was five, and didn’t understand the sudden whirl of bats in her tummy when she saw Her. She simply thought it was indigestion from the ice cream her father bought for her; it had been overly sweet, even for licorice flavor.

She came bounding over like an eager puppy, a big smile showing off her missing canine. She burned brighter than the sun with her exuberance, blue eyes sparkling like a turquoise sea under a warm sky. Oh, how Wednesday’s little black heart had pounded away at her rib cage, utterly lost for words at the sudden appearance of this sunny girl.

And then the blonde had spoken, her voice sweet and high like a birdsong as she proclaimed, “hi I’m Enid Sinclair! You’re really pretty, I like your dress, what’s your name?”

“...Wednesday, Wednesday Addams.”

It was on that day in June, under the shade of an oak tree at a park, that Wednesday Addams fell in love.

Wednesday is roused from her light slumber by the careful raps of her mother’s knuckles against the door. Morticia waits a moment before entering, needing no permission from her daughter to set foot in the bedroom. Wednesday watches listlessly from the comfort of her bed as her mother glides to the other side of the room to the drawn curtains of her window.

“Morning, Wednesday, how are you feeling today?” Morticia asks as she pulls back the black-out curtains, letting in the light of an overcast day.

“Dreadful.” Wednesday’s voice comes out as a small croak.

Morticia whirls around and makes haste to her daughter’s side with a soft croon, “oh, my little bug, that is wonderful to hear, shall we take advantage of this awful mood then?”

Wednesday huffs, giving her mother a hard stare, “do you know me for preferring to rot away in my bed?”

“No, I suppose not,” Morticia chuckles as she gingerly removes the weighted blanket from Wednesday’s petite form. “Then let us prepare for the horrors of today.”

Wednesday sighs as the tender touch of her mother helps her up in bed, but Morticia steps away after, knowing that the gloomy girl favors doing things on her own when it’s a good day. Wednesday snatches up her cane from where it leans against the wall right next to her bed; pouring most of her weight onto it, and using what meager strength she has, she lifts herself out of bed. Her knees creak like the decaying branches of a dying tree, but the pain is mild today; her spine doesn’t scream with every step she takes, it only whines and cracks as she bends and twists her torso.

Morticia hovers about in case of a fall; they’ve made the mistake in the past of trusting a good day, and it had almost resulted in Wednesday falling down the stairs. It was fortunate that Pugsley had been walking with his sister to dinner that night. As much as she complains and shows her disdain toward her family’s constant worry, Wednesday knows without it, she would not be alive right now. Their love is the only reason she keeps going most days.

Once she is dressed and her hair brushed and made into twin braids, Wednesday leads the march down the stairs to the dining room; Morticia right in step with her shadow. The clicking of her cane announces her present before she even appears in the doorway, for her family is already looking at her with smiles the moment she rounds the corner. Wednesday scoffs, rolling her eyes as she makes her way over to her seat.

“Hello family,” she mutters, leaning her cane against the edge of the table as she rests and leans back in the plushness of her chair. Morticia gracefully slides into the seat at the head of the table, Wednesday sitting to her left, and Gomez to her right.

“My little widow! You are looking especially grim this morning!” Wednesday winces at the jovial volume of her father’s voice, but nonetheless it settles into her and fills her chest with poisonous affection.

“Thank you, father, your voice is terrible to hear as always.”

Lurch lumbers over to Wednesday’s side, placing a bowl of porridge before her with a long, mournful moan. She nods her thanks before taking up her silverware and begins to eat.

“Pugsley, dear, no bombs at the table,” Morticia reminds her son as Gomez fills her wine glass with a rich red liquid.

Pugsley pouts, but stops his tinkering upon the little, spiky sphere in his lap. His mood quickly lifts though, as he looks to his older sister with a toothy smile, “hey Weds, can we hangout today?”

Wednesday glances at him from the corner of her eye, pausing just as she dipped her spoon back into her porridge. “Perhaps in the afternoon, if I still have the stamina by then.”

Pugsley nods, “we don’t have to do anything crazy, I just want to spend some time together before...before you leave...”

“Ah, of course...very well, we can go fishing, and then you can show me some of your latest bits of machinery before dinner.”

Pugsley smiles as if he was being sentenced to death by electric chair. “Yes! I can’t wait!”

Wednesday huffs softly in amusement, her eyes narrowing fondly as she goes back to her breakfast. The morning passes by as usual; Uncle Fester had arrived late to breakfast with Pubert tucked up under his trench coat - both of them covered in soot and ash from who knows what sort of mischief. Wednesday goes to the kitchen briefly to greet Grandmama with a kiss upon the cheek, the old crone cackling in delight as she shoves a pouch into Wednesday’s hand; the gloomy girl is quickly sent out with a returned kiss to the forehead, and then a shouted “GET!”

Wednesday ties the pouch to a belt loop, knowing that the small bag of deer hide is filled to the brim with her favorite snack - crickets coated in a hardened shell of honey. She plucks one out, a faint smile on her face as she pops it into her mouth, and crushes it between her molars. It’s the small things that bring the most joy in life.

Soon enough she finds herself walking down the gravel path that leads to the small lake on their lands. Pugsley raced ahead, with Pubert giving chase, their little brother having decided to tag along once he heard about the outing. Wednesday watches them, a sorrowful twist in her gut, as the laughing boys dig up buried memories.

Enid laughs, and laughs and laughs and laughs; while Wednesday stands there with crossed arms, and a frown that is definitely not a pout. “I do not understand what is so funny about this, Sinclair,” the smaller girl snarls out, the sharp tone losing some of its intimidation as Wednesday stomps a foot. “I find myself in a time of great sorrow, and I had come to you looking for sympathy, but instead you chortle at my misery?!”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just - it’s so - it’s such a weird thing to be upset about!” Enid giggles a few times, though she is coming down from her giggle fit high.

Wednesday huffs, a scowl turning down her lips, “it is not! I do not wish to have a sibling!”

“But you get to be a big sister!” Enid grins big and wide, she’s missing another tooth, the other canine. “I wish I could be a big sister, my brothers are meanies, but if I was the big one, I’d be super nice and play with them all the time!”

“My offer to teach them a lesson still stands,” Wednesday grumbles, dropping her arms with a huff.

“Wenny, you can’t, they’re way bigger than you!”

“And?”

Enid shakes her head, she reaches out and grabs one of Wednesday’s hands; Enid’s hand is warm and clammy, her fingers wrapped up tight in colorful band-aids. Wednesday holds on tightly to the blonde’s hand as she is dragged to the swings.

“I think you’ll be a great big sister!” Enid shouts, slight bounce to her steps, “you’re really nice, and cool, and super-duper smart! And just think of all of the games you can play with your sibling!”

“Hm, I suppose it would be...nice, to have someone to torment, since you do not run away from me in fear.”

Enid giggles, “what’s there to be scared about? You’re so pretty! And you bring me candy all the time!”

“I do not, those are meant for me,” Wednesday hisses softly, “you simply stick your thieving hands into the bag.”

Enid gasps, she lets go of Wednesday as she whips around, “No I don’t! You held it out to me!”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Sinclair, you have a five second head start before I skin you and make you into a new rug for my bedroom.”

Enid squeals, peals of laughter leaving her lungs as she twists around and takes off like a racehorse. Wednesday only gives the blonde three seconds; she wasn’t that nice, despite what Enid might say. However, anyone watching the two little girls could clearly tell that the darkly dressed girl barely made an effort to actually grab the little werewolf.

“Weds? You doing alright?”

Wednesday blinks once, her focus coming back to the present. Pugsley and Pubert stood a few feet away, expressions of concern on their faces as they stopped their little game of tag to check in on her. Wednesday huffs, she waves her hand as she starts walking once more.

“Worry not about me, let us keep going, we shouldn’t waste such a horrendous day like this.”

Wednesday reaches into her pouch and pulls out another honey coated cricket, she sighs quietly as she throws it into her mouth. “You truly are an impressive thief,” she whispers to the wind, “to have stolen my heart like this, Enid.”

The gray clouds that had hung over the manor all day finally grew dark and fat with rain. A heavy downpour battering away at the house, creating a lovely background noise for Wednesday. The gloomy girl sat at her desk, her hands loosely folded in her lap while her head was tilted against the backrest of her overstuffed leather armchair. It looks as if she had fallen asleep, her eyes closed and her face serene; but the truth is she’s wide awake, daydreaming of past summers and a girl with blue eyes.

Until there’s a soft rapping at her door.

Wednesday half opens a single eye as the door is opened, she hears the near silent footsteps of her mother as she enters the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click, and then the footsteps slowly approach her. Wednesday turns her head to catch sight of Morticia, looming beside the armchair with a fond smile on her blood red lips.

Morticia reaches down and tucks a stray lock of hair behind Wednesday’s ear, the gloomy girl closes her eye as she leans into the touch. “I see you’ve undone your hair yourself.”

“Headache,” Wednesday mumbles, and then sighs as her mother starts running her fingers through her hair.

“You have also changed into your pajamas, are you ready for bed, my little bug?”

Wednesday nods once, heaving out a breath through her nose as she opens her eyes and sits up. She allows her mother to help her to her feet and support her the short distance to her bed. Wednesday groans quietly as she lays out on her back, sinking into the comfort of her mattress. Morticia pulls the weighted blanket up to Wednesday’s chin, she leans down and presses a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead.

“I love you, Wednesday.”

“I...I love you too, mother.”

As Wednesday settles down, her eyes drifting close; Morticia goes around the room to quickly tidy up anything left out. When she comes to Wednesday’s desk though she pauses momentarily seeing the sheet of paper left out. She caps the ball-point pen and places it in its proper spot within the beak of the taxidermy raven on Wednesday’s desk. She cleans up the crumpled papers left to litter the floor around the desk. Morticia hesitates on the freshly written letter, but then she picks it up with a reverences befitting for holding a holy object.

My Dearest Enid,

Pardon my shaky penmanship, it has been some time since I last wrote by hand, but I have found myself in need to lay out my words by hand rather than by my typewriter. As much as I treasure my writing instrument, it cannot capture the same feeling, the same honesty, that a personally written letter shows. Every curve and curl speak so passionately, exposing the writer’s emotions with the ease in which they dot their i’s and cross their t’s. I am sure you can tell then, that writing like this causes me nothing but agony, but still I do it, because you deserve to read words drawn up by my heart.

Apologies, I did not start this letter to simply tell you of my woes. I actually had quite a dreadfully pleasant day, my aches were mild, a rare blessing these days. I spent the afternoon fishing with Pugsley and Pubert, seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter...it reminds me of us, and it makes my bones crack with longing. I grew tired afterwards, a shame for I had also promised Pugsley that I’d view his inventions; I will have to make it up to him before this summer ends.

This is why I began to write to you. I am leaving home soon, and I am unsure of myself. You have always been so confident, gung-ho about everything you did; I hope you still are. I could use some of that excitement, for you see I am starting college, I’ll be attending Nevermore Academy.

In my current state of physical health, many would say I shouldn’t be going, but for once I agree with my parents; I cannot stay within this manor, within my bedroom, in my bed, and let the days slip by. I need to get out of the house, see a bit more of the world, and what better way to do that than send me away to Vermont? It sounds cruel, doesn’t it? My parents sent me away to some boarding school to be someone else’s burden; unfortunately my parents would never. I can see it now, my father will be wailing, holding onto me until Lurch is forced to remove him from my person, like a tick. My mother will fuss until she has gray hair, most likely check my luggage ten times to make sure I have everything; she’ll probably also bribe my roommate to take care of me.

Oh, and there’s that too. I will be having a roommate; with my condition I will be forced to live with a stranger. I’d much prefer they put a bullet into my head, take me out of my misery...I’m sorry, that was unnecessarily morbid...I appreciate the care my family shows me, immensely, but some days...my darker thoughts get the best of me. Hopefully this roommate of mine is kind, like you, my sweet Enid, otherwise I might have to kill them.

I must end my letter here; my hand is cramping, and the hour grows late. The rain outside is lulling me to a peaceful mindset. It brings me memories of when we would sit together in this very space, huddle close with mugs filled with warm drinks; hot chocolate for you, with marshmallows and whip cream, and of course I with my tea - black, but I always let you add a spoonful of honey, because you always wanted to share drinks and refused anything that wasn’t as sweet as you.

I am always thinking of you.

Forever yours,
Wednesday

“I miss her.”

Morticia closes her eyes at the softness of her daughter’s voice. Tears cling to her long lashes, and she quickly sets the letter back down in fear of staining the paper with her sorrow. Morticia grabs Wednesday’s cane from where it leaned against the desk and moves back over to her daughter’s bedside.

Wednesday stares up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes.

Morticia sets the cane against the wall, within reach of Wednesday, before she bends down. She cradles Wednesday’s cheeks, and bestows another kiss to her daughter’s brow.

“Do you think I will ever see her again?” Wednesday asks, voice hollow and close to cracking.

“I cannot say for sure, my little raven, but there is nothing wrong with hoping, and wanting.”

Wednesday closes her eyes, a single tear escaping her. “It hurts so much.”

Morticia’s eyes flutter, holding back her own tears as she wipes away her daughter’s. “What can I do for you?”

“...Stay, for a little longer.”

“Of course,” Morticia croons, sitting down on the edge of Wednesday’s bed; she slowly cards her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “Anything for you, my dear.”

Wednesday pulls down the blanket to her waist, her eyes only opening to help her in reaching out and grasping her mother’s free hand. Her eyes shut once more the moment Morticia squeezes her hand lightly.

Slowly, she falls asleep, to the caring touch of her mother, and the lullaby made from the raging storm outside, and Morticia’s tranquil humming.

Chapter Text

Wednesday is awake before the sun. Pain dancing up and down her spine, knotting her lower back impossibly tight; a normal day for her, but annoying nonetheless. She sighs and buries herself further under her weighted blanket, breathing in deeply of her mother’s perfume that still lingered on the sheets. She knows Thing rests within her room, ready to help with anything she needs, but she couldn’t bring herself to disturb anyone this early in the morning.

So, she searches through countless fond memories until one catches her heartstrings.

A single comet of shimmering blue rockets upward into the inky darkness of the sky. It stands still, hovering brightly in the middle of the void for one second, and then the night is washed in color with a cheerful boom. Enid squeals, clapping her hands wildly as more fireworks are lit and set up high into the air; Wednesday stands passively at her side, watching the little werewolf instead of the colorful light show. Besides, she prefers her explosions to be far less colorful, and more deadly, and strapped to her Uncle Fester.

Another explosion of light echoes through the night. Enid gasps as gold glitters over her face, and Wednesday gets entrapped watching the color mix with the blue of Enid’s eyes.

“Wenny?”

Wednesday blinks, realizing that those eyes were now staring directly into her own. The darkly dressed girl ignores the burning of her ears.

“Apologies Enid, were you saying something?”

Enid grins with a giggle, “I asked if you were enjoying the fireworks!”

Wednesday turns her face toward the sky just as another wave of color runs through the open air. “Hm, not the most magnificent explosives I’ve ever seen, but not the worst.”

“Oh wow! You’ve seen stuff better than this?!”

Wednesday nods, “but of course, and made by my uncle’s hands too.”

Enid squeals and grabs onto Wednesday’s hands, hopping up and down with her elation. “Oh my moon Wenny! Next time you gotta ask your uncle to bring some!”

“I am not sure if everyone else will enjoy them, but nonetheless I will ask for you.”

“You’re the best Wenny!”

With a sharp jerk Wednesday is pulled into a hug strong enough to squeeze the air out of her lungs. She wraps her arms much more gently around Enid’s waist. She closes her eyes, multi-colored lights flashing against her eyelids, but all she can see is the turquoise blue of Enid’s eyes.

Wednesday frowns faintly as she feels a weak tug on her blanket. She slowly peels her eyelids apart, and turns her gaze down toward the severed hand that climbs up and over the edge of her bed. Thing scuttles up onto her sternum, worry clearly expressed by the hand through the tension in his tendons.

“How long have you been awake?” Thing asks with quick flexes of his fingers, and light taps on her chest.

“Long enough,” Wednesday grinds out between her teeth. “Go get mother...please.”

Thing gives a two-finger salute before hurrying away, jumping off the bed and landing with a small thud. She watches him disappear through one of the many holes that’ve been built into the walls for him and the rats. Wednesday lays as still as a statue while she waits, hyper aware of every twitch of her muscles. A single curl of the toes, a small turning of the head, jolts her whole body with suffering; it’s looking more and more like a bad day, and not the good kind.

She’s not sure how much time has passed - it feels like hours when most likely it’s just been a minute; when the door opens without warning, but still slowly enough for it to not startle Wednesday. Morticia enters quietly, shutting the door without a sound. She’s wrapped up tight in a black, satin robe, her hair tousled from sleep; Wednesday thinks, privately to herself, that her mother looks most beautiful like this. No makeup on, the wrinkles around her eyes and the soft laugh lines of her face clear as day.

Morticia makes her way over to the bed, her smile small and tired. She pulls back the blanket, and Wednesday had expected to be helped out of bed, but instead Morticia climbs under the covers. The dark witch gingerly settles down beside her daughter before carefully rounding an arm under Wednesday’s waist, and then presses the young woman against her side. She brings the weighted blanket over the both of them with a content sigh.

“Alright, my little bedbug, how about we sleep in a bit for the day, hm? How does that sound?” Morticia questions in a hushed voice.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Wednesday hisses softly.

Morticia places her hand on the back of Wednesday’s head and cradles her close to her chest. “Thing, get the balm...and her herbs.”

Wednesday huffs out an airy chuckle, “it’s called marijuana, mother.”

“Of course, of course, but it doesn’t sound as fun.”

“Ah yes, it is missing that witchy touch.”

Morticia pouts slightly, “you shouldn’t tease your mother, it’s incredibly ill-mannered.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes, “then perhaps my mother shouldn’t be so ridiculous.”

“Well, she tries, but-” the dark witch’s voice turns warm with an affectionate smile, “it makes her daughter smile, so sacrifices must be made.”

“...Where’s my marijuana, I don’t wish to cry while being sober.”

“Wednesday!”

The gloomy girl hides her faint smile against Morticia’s shoulder; her eyes fluttering close briefly as she breathes in the scent of fresh soil and dried roses. Fingernails rapidly tapping across the floorboards signals Thing’s arrival with the requested items. Morticia gingerly untangles from Wednesday, leaning over the side of the bed with a “thank you,” as she takes the items from him.

“Thing, please put on some music, one of her favorites,” Morticia said as she set aside a small, tin container. “Alright, my little bug,” Morticia pushes down the blanket, sitting up on her knees, “it is time.”

“Yay. I get to be a virgin sacrifice, a nightmare come true.”

Thing snaps his fingers - his way of laughing - and Morticia points a narrowed gaze to the severed hand. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Am I not funny? I thought that was a good one,” Wednesday grunts out as she rolls over onto her belly.

“Your humor is horrible and morbid as always, I was talking about your smart mouth.”

“Ah, you will have to cut out my tongue to stop my witty remarks, but even then, I still have hands,” Wednesday mumbles into her pillow.

Morticia shakes her head as she lifts up Wednesday’s shirt. She unscrews the lid of the jar, a thick sickly green paste inside of it, “hm, we’re running a bit low, I’ll have Grandmama whip up some more later.”

Wednesday hisses the moment the tender pressure of her mother’s touch makes contact with her lower back. However, she quickly relaxes and breaths out in relief as the numbing balm is rubbed into her skin. The beginning notes of Daytona Sand fill the room, and Wednesday closes her eyes as she hums quietly along with the deep tones of Orville Peck’s voice.

“Oh! Isn’t this the gay cowboy man you like?”

The gloomy girl can’t stop the laugh that escapes her in a short burst of a wheeze. “Yes mother, it is.”

It takes until the ending of Outta Time for Morticia to finish applying the balm to Wednesday’s back. She carefully rolls her daughter onto her back, and then piles up a few pillows before guiding Wednesday to lean up against them. Morticia switches the jar for the tin container and hands the object over to her daughter.

Wednesday smiles faintly as she takes the container, giving a small nod of thanks. Morticia pulls the weighted blanket up and over their waists as she draws Wednesday back to her side. The casing is flipped open and Wednesday takes out a pre-rolled joint; she shuts the container and puts it aside as she places the joint between her lips. Morticia holds up her index finger and in a flash a small flame is hovering above her nail.

“Thank you,” the younger witch mumbles, leaning in and lighting the end of the joint. Wednesday inhales, holding the breath for a moment as she tilts her head back, slowly she exhales the smoke up toward the ceiling. She passes the joint over to her mother.

“Oh, we’re sharing I see,” Morticia smirks slightly as she takes the rolled-up paper.

Wednesday snuggles deeper against her mother’s side, watching the smoke that Morticia lets lazily drift from between her lips. “You know I always share, it’s half of the fun.”

Morticia hums in agreement as she passes back to Wednesday. “Will you be sharing with your roommate then?”

“If I find them deserving of it, otherwise I am kicking them out of the room when I need it.”

Morticia chuckles, “in most witch circles, indulging in hallucinogens together is the favored way to form bonds.”

“I know, mother, Grandmama and you tell me this all the time whenever you two share tales from your young years in the covens.”

“Well you must be prepared in case the coven at Nevermore wishes to know you.”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow as she blows out a few smoke rings, “oh yes, I can already see my fellow witches clamoring to get to know me.”

“Wednesday-”

“You had to pull me out of high school, mother, I do not expect this to go any better.” Morticia goes to speak, but Wednesday holds up a hand, “however, I am still willing to give it a try; if my peers have a problem with me, I will consume the marrow of their bones.”

“...You will tell me if there is any trouble?”

“And bring your wrath down upon their heads, mother? Of course, I would never deprive you of such an honor.”

Gomez lightly knocks on Wednesday’s door as he calls out, “Tish? Are you still here with our little mayfly?”

“You may enter,” the voice of his wife answers, but there’s a certain tone that hangs around her words.

Gomez cracks the door open and pokes his head inside.

There’s a faint haze to the room, the smell of marijuana heavy in the air. Wednesday’s head rests atop Morticia’s lap, her eyes half-lidded and looking close to dozing off as Morticia brushes through her hair with her fingers. A book lays forgotten to Morticia’s side, and the dark witch is staring at Gomez with a haughty expression.

Gomez flinches a little under the sharp gaze, “uh, my dears?”

“Ew, a man,” Wednesday mumbles, lifting up a heavy arm to point a drooping finger at her father.

“Hm, indeed a man has intruded your space, ma araignée, what shall his punishment be?”

“Death.”

Gomez gasps, “mi hija, how can you do this to your own father?!”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, practically shutting them, “I have no father, I was born from the shadows of my mother, I am Wednesday Friday Frump.”

Morticia smirks at Gomez, looking utterly smug, “you heard her, and my darling little widow never tells a lie; but perhaps death is a bit extreme.”

“I wish to gnaw on his femur.”

“Is my little spider hungry?” Morticia coos, she bends over and starts peppering Wednesday’s face with kisses, “does she desire to devour the flesh of men like a proper witch of old?”

Wednesday smiles, her cheeks dimpling and her glassy eyes lit with warmth. “I want bacon.”

Morticia glances up at Gomez, her little masquerade dropping as she gives her husband a loving smile. “Could you please bring us breakfast? Wednesday and I will be spending the day in bed.”

Gomez sniffles softly, rapidly nodding as he hurries out and down the hall as he shouts, “of course! I’ll be back soon, my love!”

The two witches sit there in silence for a moment, before Wednesday mutters, “...was that my father?”

“That’s it, Weds, deep breath in...and out.”

Wednesday grits her teeth as she shakily exhales; her leg slowly being extended outward by careful, but sure hands. Cousin Limb flashes a smile down at her, but then glances off to the side with a faint frown.

“Alright Weds, we’ll call today's session there,” they said as they mindfully let go of her leg.

“It-it has only been thirty-six minutes,” Wednesday pants softly; her skin is feverish, a light sheen of sweat on her brow.

Cousin Limb nods, they go over and grab Wednesday’s wheelchair, “I know, but it looks like you’re having a rough time, Weds.” They put down the breaks of the chair before helping Wednesday up and into the wheelchair.

Wednesday huffs, scowling as she undoes the breaks, “you needn’t treat me like a child, I can handle the full hour.”

“No doubt about that, Weds, but there’s no need to push yourself on a bad day,” Cousin Limb said.

“You don’t know me very well then.”

Cousin Limb shakes their head as they start to clean up the living room. “Alright Weds, I talked with Morticia about your physical therapy, luckily I got a friend up in Vermont who is more than happy to do personal sessions with you; and before you ask, yes, she is a woman.”

“...Apologies, if I am to be touched by a stranger, I’d prefer it not be a cisgender man.”

“Hey, no judgment from me,” Cousin Limb smiles wide as they finish up packing their things. “Your comfort is priority number one; now then, I gave Valerie the whole run down of, well, you - so she knows your bark is as bad as your bite.”

“Thank you, Cousin Limb, as always you perform your duties without fault.”

Cousin Limb chuckles, “oh stop, you’re going to make me blush.” They bend down and give Wednesday a quick hug, “Okay, I’m heading out, you take care and I’ll see you next week.”

Wednesday nods, “have an awful evening, Cousin Limb.”

“See ya, Weds,” Cousin Limb steps out of the living room, and calls out to the house, “bye everyone!” Voices ring throughout the manor calling back their own farewell.

Wednesday wheels herself over to the window that looks out onto the family cemetery. She puts the break down, and then sinks against the plush seating of her chair; she takes slow, deep breaths, her nerves still red-hot from her session, and her muscles spasm and twitch. But in some ways, the after-burn felt good, her joints less creaky and looser; her spine curving more naturally, allowing her to sit straight and proper.

Somewhere in the manor, music starts to play, muffled heavily but Wednesday knows it to be a love song the moment she hears the banshee screeches of her father singing to her mother. She watches the outside world, a bright summer day blinding her with endless blue skies, not a cloud in sight. Wednesday shuts her eyes to shield herself away from the horrid day, but still she sees blue.

Enid sniffles, clinging her injured knee close to her chest; her blue eyes overflowing with tears as she wails out her pain. Wednesday is fast to act. She drops down beside Enid as she digs through the little messenger bag she has started to carry whenever she spends time with Enid.

“Wenny, it hurts!” Enid cries harder, until Wednesday is practically shoving a lollipop into her mouth.

“I know, distract yourself with this,” Wednesday said as she went back to her search for her medical supplies.

Said medical supplies was a box of animal band-aids. The darkly dressed girl quickly peels away the wrapping, and then gingerly applies the band-aid over Enid’s scraped knee; the animal upon the band-aid was a lion, one of Enid’s favorites.

Enid sniffles, wiping at the tears on her face as she mumbles around the lollipop in her mouth, “thanks Wenny, you’re the bestest friend ever.”

Wednesday puffs out her chest, her cheeks burning hot with Enid’s words. “You as well, I would be very upset if something were ever to happen to you; now, if you are all better, let us-”

“Wait!”

Wednesday goes as still as a rock at Enid’s shout, “what? Is something the matter? Did you break a bone?”

Enid shakes her head rapidly, “no, silly, you forgot to kiss it!”

“Kiss...it?”

“Yeah!” Enid points to her bandaged knee, “you gotta kiss the ouchie, and then it’ll be better! My dad does it all the time for me, and I feel better after!”

Wednesday blinks once, “...oh...alright then.”

Wednesday leans in, she hesitates for a brief moment before placing a feather-light kiss against the band-aid. She rockets up onto her feet, twisting sharply on her heel as she crosses her arms. “There, now let us go.”

Enid giggles as she scrambles up. The blonde snatches up Wednesday’s hand, and without warning places a wet kiss against the shorter girl’s cheek. “See? I’m all better, and all because of you! Thanks Wenny!”

“...Do not mention it, ever, to anyone,” the darkly dressed girl mutters, turning her head away, but nothing can hide the redness of her ears.

“Wednesday?”

The young witch blinks her eyes open, and then squints them in confusion when she sees the sun is now slowly setting. She glances over, and Pubert is at her side, hand resting on her knee with a soft smile on his angular face. He looks more and more like their mother with each passing year.

“Dinner is done,” he said quietly.

Wednesday nods, moving to undo the break, when something catches her eye. “Pubert, what happened to your hand?”

“Huh? Oh! I was helping mother in the greenhouse,” he holds up his hand, a black band-aid wrapped around his forefinger. “One of the plants bit me.”

Wednesday scoffs as she grabs his little hand and cradles it between hers. “You know better than to help in the gardens without gloves on.”

Pubert flashes her a sheepish smile, “but it’s more fun without them.”

“I care not,” Wednesday snarls lowly, “wear your gloves, before I take your fingers myself.” She lifts his hand up and playfully snaps her teeth toward his digits.

Her youngest brother bubbles with gleeful laughter, weakly trying to pull from her grip, but truly he allows her to keep her hold. He could easily break away from her fragile grasp. A ghostly smile softens the razor sharp planes of her face, turning the darkness of her eyes into the warm hue of dark coffee.

“Take care, little one, I might not always be around when you get hurt, and what are you to do when your older sister is not there to kiss it better?” She presses her lips feather-light against his bandaged finger.

Pubert gasps, as if the idea had never occurred to him. “I...I’m not sure, Weds...I think the family would go nuts without you.”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, a keen edge curling the corner of her mouth. “How delightful, I hope you all burn the world for me.”

“We would bring down the heavens for you, Weds!” Pubert proclaims with a sharp-toothed smile.

“Good. Come along, world-destroying men need to eat so they may rain ruin upon the people,” Wednesday undoes the break on her wheelchair and starts to push forward.

“May I have the honor of taking you to dinner, Wednesday?” The young boy asks, an excited little bounce in his legs.

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but she leans back in her chair and folds her hands in her lap. “I suppose, but only if you promise to wear your gloves from now on.”

Pubert nods his head fast, “promise!” He rushes to the back of her wheelchair and pushes her forward, peeking around the side of the chair since he isn’t tall enough to see over it.

“...You remind me of her.”

“Hm? What was that Weds?”

“Nothing...just thinking out loud.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday watches from her bed as her bedroom is packed up. Lurch does most of the heavy lifting, while her mother sorts through her clothes and folds up the ones that Wednesday decides to take with her to Vermont. Thing quietly goes about boxing her vinyl records, already knowing which ones are her favorite; though she spots him putting in his own favorites here and there.

She glances around, her heart picking up pace as her bedroom is slowly emptying. It was terrifying to see her years being put away in boxes, to see memories being shut away. It was even more terrifying when she reminded herself that all these things would soon be somewhere else, set up in a different room that wasn’t her childhood bedroom, and would be viewed by eyes that weren't her family’s.

“Oh, what’s this?”

Wednesday’s head snaps toward her mother, who stood at the back of her closet, staring at something with a curious tilt to her head. Morticia carefully picks up the object and brings it out from the depths of Wednesday’s closet.

The sight of the small treasure chest knocks the air out of her lungs, a wheezy little gasp leaving her dry mouth. She can barely choke out the one name that is always on her mind, “Enid.”

“Oh,” Morticia’s brow furrows with concern, “I did always wonder where you put her gifts...Do you wish for me to put it back-”

“No!” Wednesday jerks forward a little, hands reaching up, but freeze mid-way for the chest. “I...I believe there is...something I wish to take from it.”

Morticia nods, giving Wednesday an encouraging smile as she places the treasure chest down onto the bed beside her daughter. “Shall we give you some privacy?”

Wednesday thinks for a moment, and then she shakes her head as she gingerly turns toward the chest. “I had lost my care for privacy when I was sixteen...I do not mind you being here, any of you,” Wednesday glances at Thing and Lurch with a slight nod of her head.

“Very well, my little bug,” Mortica twists around and goes back toward the closet, clapping her hands lightly as she does so. “Back to work, boys - Lurch, put down Miss Piggy, she can’t take her to school.”

Lurch groans sorrowfully as he places the taxidermy boar back down in the corner.

Wednesday takes in an unsteady breath, running her fingertips over the top of the chest like a breeze. Despite it having been at the back of her closet, there’s not a mote of dust upon the oak wood chest. She slowly opens the chest, she never bothered to lock it since she had no worry of her family digging through her things - but in truth it felt wrong to lock it, like in some way if she did, she would be trying to keep her memories of Enid at bay, repressed.

The young witch sighs wistfully as she lays her eyes on her most precious possessions; little bits and bobbles given to her by Enid Sinclair throughout their childhood together. Colorful pieces of glass from broken bottles, shiny black rocks dug up by the eager blonde - a bundle of dried daisies, a leather-bound journal full of short stories, and polaroid pictures of animals and flowers and Wednesday kept safe in a small, pink photo album. However, there is one item that is the holy grail of Wednesday’s collection.

“Come on, Wenny, just close your eyes!”

“Enid, you know I do not like surprises.”

“Wrong! You love surprises, but only when they’re assassination attempts.” Enid grins wide, her adult canines have finally fully grown in, gleaming sharp and big.

Wednesday huffs, “I am stunned you even remember how to pronounce that,” she mutters as she closes her eyes.

Enid giggles, and Wednesday can feel the warmth of the werewolf draw closer, “well, you use the word a lot, and it’s a big thing in your family, so I wanted to get it right!”

“You do not need to do that, Enid.”

“I know, but I want to! Now, hold out your hands.”

Wednesday snarls softly, “Enid, how many steps are there to this surprise?”

“Just hold out your hands, silly!”

Wednesday thrusts out her arms, “if this is simply an elaborate way to trick me into a hug, I am going to-”

The darkly dressed girl stops mid-sentence as she feels something soft and fluffy placed into her hands. “Okay, you can open your eyes!”

Wednesday’s eyes flutter open, and then narrows them at the stuffed creature in her little hands. A black wolf stares back at her with marble eyes of yellow, a felt, pink tongue sticking out of its mouth. Wednesday looks to Enid with a raised eyebrow.

“...Why?”

“So you have something to cuddle with!” Enid said, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Wednesday’s nose wrinkles, “I do not need it,” she goes to shove the wolf back into Enid’s arms, but the blonde stops her by grabbing her forearms.

“Please keep him...for me?” Enid ducks her eyes a little, looking at Wednesday with big, watery blue eyes.

“...Him?”

Enid nods, her puppy dog eyes immediately melting away as she flashes a blinding smile. “Yeah, his name is Beowulf! Dad helped me give him a fancy name, it’s even from a spooky story!”

Wednesday scoffs and rolls her eyes, “hardly, Beowulf is an epic poem, it is about a man slaying monsters for no good reason.”

“Oh...well, this Beowulf is way better! He doesn’t slay monsters, he protects them!”

“How so?”

“By cuddling with them,” Enid said with another blinding smile, “he’ll help you sleep at night!”

Wednesday’s brow furrows slightly, “are you calling me a monster, Enid?”

“Yup! The scariest and nicest one that I know!”

“...I suppose...I could keep him,” Wednesday grumbles, ducking her head slightly, “but only because you have given him a very important task.”

Wednesday holds the old stuffed wolf tight against her torso, bending her head down to bury her face against the worn-out fabric of the animal. The glass surface of his eyes are slightly chipped, and the little felt tongue is now missing. The young witch slowly unfurls from around the toy wolf, her hand coming up to absentmindedly worry one of his ears between her thumb and forefinger.

“Listen here, Beowulf,” Wednesday whispers, “I am to journey away from home soon; I imagine I will have many sleepless nights ahead of me, so you will need to take up your sworn duty once more, do you understand?”

The old wolf, of course, doesn’t answer back; but Wednesday stares into his little marble eyes, and nods as if the stuffed toy gave a reply. “Good. You may take residence upon my bed like old times,” she mumbles as she sets the black wolf against her pillows.

Wednesday ignores the tender stare of her mother that burns into the side of her head. Instead, she closes the treasure chest and carefully sets it down at the end of her bed. When Lurch comes over to take it back to her closet, she stops him with a wave of her hand.

“No need, it can stay right there.”

“STOP!”

Cousin Limb freezes up, standing as still as possible while Wednesday catches her breath. They slowly draw their hands away, holding them up in a surrendering gesture, “okay, deep breaths, and when you feel ready I want you to tell me what you need.”

“I want you dead!” Wednesday hisses, her lips pulled back in a ferocious scowl that bares her long fangs.

Cousin Limb shakes their head with a slight frown, “you don’t mean that, you’re just in a lot of pain right now...Do you want me to go get Morticia?”

“I want my father here so I can rip out his throat for cursing me with his damn blood!”

Cousin Limb sighs as they get onto their feet, sparing a glance to their wristwatch. “Well, at least we almost finished the session, two minutes left.” They quickly go over to the yawning archway of the living room and call out into the manor, “Morticia! Weds needs you!”

Within seconds Morticia is stepping out from the shadows in one of the corners of the room; her eyes pitch black and deep lines of worry are etched across her face. She rushes over to Wednesday’s side, her eyes returning to normal as she kneels down beside her daughter.

“What do you need, my little spider?” Morticia asks, her hands hovering uncertainty over Wednesday’s body.

Lightning-fast Wednesday latches onto one of Morticia’s hands. “I would say...a bath full of my father’s blood...but a normal one will do as well.”

Morticia smiles faintly as she nods, “I’ll have Thing draw one for you right away. Cousin Limb, help Wednesday into her chair.”

“Yes ma’am,” they give a mock salute before grabbing Wednesday’s wheelchair and pushing it over. “Alright cousin, don’t bite me, please.”

“Begging will do nothing,” Wednesday croaks out, and then groans loudly as Cousin Limb lifts her up into her wheelchair.

“Yeah yeah, you want your juice box, little Weds?”

Cousin Limb yelps as a knife is swiped across their cheek in the blink of an eye.

“Cousin Limb, you know better than to tease Wednesday when she’s feeling homicidal,” Morticia scolds them before snapping her fingers twice.

Wednesday snarls, “be thankful it wasn’t my cane.”

The four-armed Addams at least has the decency to look remorseful as they mumble a soft apology.

Thing comes scuttling into the room at Morticia’s summons, bowing on his knuckles to the dark witch. “Thing, please prepare a bath for Wednesday, and tell Lurch to make some tea as well.” The severed hand bobs up and down before scurrying out of the room as fast as he had come.

A few moments after Thing has left, Gomez pokes his head around the archway. “Is everything alright in here? I heard-” Gomez quickly dodges to the side as a knife whirls past where his head used to be. “HA! Deadly aim as always, my little scorpion!”

“Quiet you! You are the reason I am in this damnable chair, suffering endless torture!” Wednesday growls through gritted teeth, causing Gomez to flinch a little.

“Wednesday!” The young witch shrinks down slightly in her chair at her mother’s sharp tone. “I know you are in much agony right now, but that is no excuse to be vicious to your father, apologize to him.”

Wednesday ducks her head, guilt coloring her cheeks as she grips the armrests of her wheelchair tightly. “I...I am sorry, father.”

Gomez smiles - small and sorrowful - he goes over to Wednesday and kneels down in front of her, placing a warm and comforting hand on her knee. “Mi hija, don’t fret, I do not blame you for your stinging words; in some ways I understand, there had been a time where I too suffered from the torment of the Addams’ curse.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened a bit, her gaze darting up to meet her father’s eyes, “what do you mean? You have always said mother and you fell in love at first sight.”

“We did, but I was a bit of a crowd when I was younger,” Gomez said with a sheepish grin, “it took me a week to work up the courage to confess my love for your mother, and that week was hellish! Oh, my back just aches at the memories of it!”

“You...you went through it too?”

Gomez nods, reaching out and taking Wednesday’s hands between his. “Indeed, but nowhere near the anguish you go through every day, the...the strength you show by simply getting up in the morning...” Gomez sniffles, tears rapidly building up in his eyes.

Wednesday cringes and immediately pulls away from him, “mother, he is crying, I cannot deal with that right now.”

Morticia glides over and gently tugs Gomez up onto his feet, “Our daughter may be strong, ma amour, but she has her limits, and sadly you are those limits.”

Gomez sobs even louder as Morticia leads him out of the living room.

The booming beat of a drum and sharp whistles of a bone flute are almost drowned out by the mirthful hollering and cries that ring out into the night. Women and people in-between dance around the raging bonfire, smoke and embers drifting high over their heads to form a soft haze against the black sky and twinkling starlight. Smoking pipes pass around with laughter, people sharing a drink from the same wooden cup without a care; some of them have even undressed, wishing to feel the summer night air on their skin.

Wednesday doesn’t judge, of course she doesn’t, she is a fellow witch after-all.

The young witch sits upon a pile of velvet and silk pillows with her cane in her lap. Offerings of drinks and foods clutter a small space in front of her, while gifts of bone charms and rune stones encircle her little mountain of pillows. Lipstick marks of varying shades stand out on her face; garlands of nightshade, aconitum, and oleander hanging delicately from around her neck. A crown of black dahlia of different blooms rings her head, her long black hair flowing loose in gentle waves down to her waist, almost reaching her lower back.

Wednesday feels rather than sees her mother’s approach. Morticia kneels down behind her daughter, placing attentive hands upon Wednesday’s shoulders as she leans in to whisper, “it’s almost time, are you ready?”

“When am I not?”

Morticia chuckles, she lightly squeezes Wednesday’s shoulders before letting go and standing up, drifting off into the gathering of witches to give Wednesday some more time on her own. Wednesday sighs quietly as she gazes back into the bonfire, quickly losing herself to her buzzing mind.

Enid claps along to the beat of the drums, her blue eyes huge with awe as she watches the dancing witches. Necklaces of moonflowers and tuberoses rest around her collarbones, while a ring of casa blanca lilies crown her head. Most covens would bar anyone who is not a witch from their gatherings, but the Addamses have always been strange and different in their ways. Enid Sinclair sits among them as a guest of honor, and tonight a blessing will be bestowed onto her; a ritual that is normally reversed for members of the coven.

The little werewolf gasps and quickly covers her eyes, “Wenny, your Aunt Nox is naked!”

Wednesday frowns, tilting her head ever-so slightly, “yes? Is that not something werewolves also do on nights of the full moon?”

“Well...yeah, but your aunt isn’t a wolf!”

“Enid, if you are to attend more rituals in the future, you must become used to this.” Enid slowly lowers her hands, though she’s solely focused on Wednesday as the little witch continues to speak. “Being a witch means being free; magic was founded during gatherings like this - women coming together in the dead of the night, only the moon and stars and nature herself the witnesses to their revelry.”

“Wow...but Wenny, doesn’t that mean you should be joining everyone else?” Enid questions with a small frown.

Wednesday shakes her head, “there is no proper way to partake in these events, simply sitting here and enjoying the atmosphere is good enough.”

Enid sighs in relief, a big grin overtaking her face, “oh good! I didn’t want you getting into trouble for sitting with me!”

“Don’t be stupid, keeping the guest of honor entertained is very important.”

“Even better!” Enid goes back to watching the dancing, slightly swaying with the music.

However, soon the music comes to a stop, and the witches step away from the bonfire as Morticia and Grandmama move forward to stand in front of the two young girls. Enid instantly looks nervous, especially as Wednesday stands up to join her mother and grandmother. Morticia gives Enid a reassuring smile before looking down at Wednesday with eyes full of pride.

“Witches! This evening we are given the greatest honor of watching Maiden Wednesday perform her first ever blessing!” Grandmama shouts out to the Addams Coven, and then looks to Wednesday with a devilish grin, “we stand here, approving and eagerly awaiting.”

Wednesday inhales deeply as she steps toward Enid. “Enid Sinclair, daughter of the moon; I - Wednesday Friday Addams, Maiden of the Addams Coven, Black Widow - witch of venom and spiders, give you my blessing.” She turns to Morticia, who holds out a sheathed knife to her daughter; Wednesday nods her thanks as she quickly unsheathes the blade and looks back to Enid.

“This blessing I give is that of the Maiden, of joy and love, but also of my witch name, that whoever may try to harm your happiness, will be met with a swift bite.”

Wednesday reaches up, and with the silver knife cuts a short lock of her black hair.

The young witch is startled from her remembrance as the clinking of bones and glass beads quiets everyone. Grandmama steps before the bonfire, rattling her gnarled staff at any witch that lingers by the flames; Morticia joining the crone with a familiar sheathed knife in hand. The others quickly settle, and once everyone falls hush, Grandmama starts to speak.

“Witches of the Addams Coven, we come together for a most sorrowful farewell, for soon our Maiden leaves us to broaden her horizons-”

“I am going to college, Grandmama,” Wednesday deadpans.

A few snickers echo throughout the coven; Grandmama jabs her staff toward Wednesday with a scowl. “Quiet now, or I’ll cut that sharp tongue from you!”

Morticia cuts in with a pointed stare at her daughter, “this evening two blessings will be given, wards to safeguard our young Maiden as she journeys away from our lands.”

The dark witch steps toward her daughter, and then she kneels down in the dirt. “Wednesday Friday Addams, Maiden of the Addams Coven, Black Widow - witch of venom and spiders; I - Morticia Addams, Mother of the Addams Coven, Nyx - witch of shadows and night, give you my blessing.”

Morticia unsheathes the silver knife, “This blessing I give is that of the Mother, of life and patience, but also of my witch name, that you will always find peace during the night.”

She grabs a lock of her black hair and cuts a short length from it. Morticia passes the silver knife onto Grandmama as the old woman steps forward, kneeling down beside Morticia. Grandmama sets her staff aside, and grins wickedly at Wednesday as she takes the silver knife.

“Wednesday Friday Addams, Maiden of the Addams Coven, Black Widow - witch of venom and spiders; I - Celeste Addams, Crone of the Addams Coven, Reaper - witch of death and spirits, give you my blessing.”

“This blessing I give is that of the Crone, of wisdom and guidance, but also of my witch name, that whoever may try to lead you astray, will be met with an agonizing death.” Grandmama cuts a short length of her wild gray hair, and carelessly tosses the knife aside.

Wednesday watches as the two witches take thin strips of black hide and weave them together with their locks of hair; and soon enough Morticia and Grandmama present Wednesday with a pair of woven bracelets. The young witch holds out her arms; Morticia places her bracelet around the left wrist, and Grandmama wraps hers around the right.

Morticia and Grandmama lean in and press kisses to Wednesday’s cheeks. They then draw back and rise up onto their feet. They each take one of Wednesday’s hands and help her stand up.

Wednesday is encouraged forward, her cane left behind on the pillows. Every step shudders her spine. Her mother and grandmother slowly let go and stopped in place, allowing her the last few steps. Wednesday glances around at her gathered coven with a stoic face. The young witch looks up, toward the waxing gibbous high up in the night sky. She takes a deep breath.

And Wednesday screams.

Chapter Text

It’s so funny that the beginning of the school year used to be a thing Enid dreaded when she was little. No more running wild in the summer heat, no more sleeping in until the afternoon, no more seeing her best friend. Then she hit thirteen, and suddenly it was a blessing to be out of the house before the sun even rose. Though, she’s got to say, it hasn’t all been bad; all thanks to the best witch in the whole wide world.

Sometimes she can’t help but think about what her life would have been like had she shifted after her thirteenth birthday. Most likely still in New Jersey with her best friend. The move to California had been expensive; if they hadn’t had family all the way out on the west coast who were more than happy to help out, there’s no way they could’ve afford getting set up out there. A lucky break for her mom; worst fucking news ever for Enid.

Though to be honest, other than the unfortunate move from New Jersey, and her inability to shift, Enid has still been pretty happy. She’s got a great relationship with her dad, and her brothers - well, they’re boys, and werewolves, so the playful wrestling and constant bullying of each other is less of a thorn in the side and more of a natural state of being for those knuckleheads. Truthfully, Esther Sinclair got the short straw in life; because even after leaving New Jersey, Wednesday Friday Addams made her life a living nightmare from states away.

Enid grins at her dad, toothy and bright, as she gets the last of her luggage out of the rental car. “Thanks for coming with me, dad!”

“No trouble, sweetheart, you want help carrying your things?” Murray asks, already moving for one of her bags.

Enid quickly stops him with a wave of her hand, “no no! I got it, but thanks!”

Murray huffs softly, a warm smile peeking through his thick beard as he recognizes Enid’s eagerness. “Alright, you do you, kiddo, don’t get into too much trouble, we don’t want a repeat of last year.”

“Dad!” Enid whines, she puffs out her cheeks with a pout, “do you have to keep bringing that up?!”

Murray lets out a low gruff of a laugh, “sorry sweetie, I just don’t want you to make a habit out of it.”

Enid rolls her eyes, a wolfish grin breaking her pout as her eyes gleam with a dangerous glint. “Oh please, I would never make a hobby out of killing people, that’s more Wenny’s thing.”

And to be fair, she had warned the guy. It’s not her fault he didn’t take ‘don’t mess with me, I have a giant spider,’ seriously. Besides, witch laws rule that deaths caused by a witch’s blessing is self-defense; and no one, not even vampires, are willing to mess with and argue against the laws of witches.

Oh yeah, she has a giant spider. Apparently when a witch of spiders gives you a blessing that will protect your happiness with ‘a swift bite’ - they mean that quite literally. You can imagine Esther’s absolute horror, and Enid’s utter delight, when finding this out. If her mom wasn’t a werewolf, Esther would be dead ten times over by now.

Murray opens his arms, and Enid dives into them to give her dad a tight squeeze; he rumbles with a chuckle as he returns the hug with equal force. “Have fun, and I’ll see you during break?”

Enid pulls away from the hug with a shrug, “maybe, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, whatever you decide, you know you have my support.”

“I know,” Enid gives him a light smile. “Bye dad, have a safe trip.”

Murray gives a silent nod of thanks before he goes to the rental car and gets in. Within moments her dad drives off, and Enid is all alone again for another year. She heaves out a breath of relief as a weight lifts off her shoulders; as much as she loves her dad and brothers, she much prefers the freedom of being on her own. Enid gathers up her luggage, carrying them all with an ease that only comes from being a werewolf - even one that hasn’t shifted yet. She heads toward Ophelia Hall with a skip in her step.

The werewolf takes in all the familiar sights, and some new ones as well. The student body had gotten an email just this past week about new amenities meant for any students with disabilities. Enid rolls her eyes seeing a couple of gorgons already using one of the new ramps meant for wheelchair users for skateboarding. She had been ready to bark at the idiots, but luckily for the group of boys a professor caught them; Enid huffs, she had a few good insults too, damnit.

Enid carefully weaves through the busy hallways, throwing a few greetings to familiar faces. The student body thins out as she hits the entryway into Ophelia Hall; a few girls milled around on the bottom floor to meet and catch up with friends. Enid just reaches the stairs when a squeal of excitement and call of her name stops her in her tracks.

“Oh my stars! Enid, there you are!”

The blonde turns around, looking a bit puzzled until she sees Ruby Ashwood running up to her with a few other witches from the Nevermore Coven. “Oh hey Ruby! It’s good to see you,” Enid flashes them all a friendly smile as she sets down a few of her bags.

“You too, Enid! We totally have to talk later, but I need this info right now!”

Enid’s brow furrows a bit; she was known to be a bit of a gossip queen, but hey Enid can’t help what her keen hearing picks up. It’s not her fault Yoko and Divina can’t keep their mouths shut.

“What are you talking about, Rubes? I just got here?”

“It’s about you,” Ruby said, “word is you got a new roommate who just so happens to be the new student!”

Oh right, she got a personal email about that. Enid kind of forgot about it in the rush of packing and impatient desire to return to Nevermore. Well, she had started to read it, but then her brother Dylan bursted into her room demanding she come play football, and she had joined because he would not stop howling until she did so. Afterward she had put it off to the side until she was done packing, and then she had simply...not bothered with it.

“Uh, right!” Enid’s smile turns a bit forced, “well, I don’t really wanna talk about her until I actually got the chance to meet her, you know? Like, if she finds out I was spreading rumors about her on the first day without even saying hi? Super rude.”

Ruby’s slumps a bit, but she quickly straightens up with an understanding nod. “Yeah no, I get it, Enid, especially since I heard,” the redheaded witch leans in as she drops her voice to a whisper, “that your new roommate is the Maiden from a powerful coven.”

Enid’s blood turns to ice in her veins, “where...where did you hear that from?”

“Whispers have been going around the covens, like the actual covens, I heard my mom talking about it before I left home. It’s a serious thing, if a Maiden comes to harm outside of her ancestral lands...” Ruby shivers at the thought.

“Let's just say, no god could save the person who caused said harm...but I have no worries for you!” Ruby quickly said seeing the paleness of Enid’s face, “I mean, you have a witch’s blessing, and you’re a werewolf! I’m sure you’ll get along with your roommate just fine!”

Some tension bleeds out from the blonde’s shoulders; she looks to the woven bracelet of pink yarn and black hair on her right wrist. Enid gingerly fiddles with the bracelet, running her thumb against the black hair, “I hope so, it would suck if I didn’t get along with her.”

“Don’t sweat it, Enid, you’re one of the nicest people I know.” Ruby pulls Enid into a quick hug before she starts to leave, “anyways, I’ll stop worrying you, and taking up your time, we’ll see you around, Enid!”

Enid nods, giving a bright smile as she waves goodbye. She picks up her bags and rushes up the stairs with a tornado of butterflies in her belly. She had nothing but nerves now over meeting her roomie; perfectly fine, no worries at all beforehand! But Ruby fucking Ashwood just had to ruin that. She hopes the witch’s hair gets set on fire at the revelry tonight for the Nevermore Coven.

The soft hiss and clicking of fangs draws her attention to her shadow, and she grins wide at the eight red eyes that stare up at her. Enid hits the second floor and pauses in the hallway to give her guardian the space to briefly step out. “Hi Nessie! Don’t worry, I’m all good.”

Now, when she said she had a giant spider, she meant a giant spider. The monstrosity that comes crawling out of her shadow came up to her hips in height, and is seven feet long from fangs to abdomen; eight eyes of pure red and a shiny body as dark as ink. The black widow nudges Enid’s thigh with one of her pedipalps, and Enid rolls her eyes as she reaches down and pets Nessie along her cephalothorax.

“Yes yes, you’re such a good girl for looking out for me...now get back into the shadow, Weems will kick me out if you keep traumatizing people.” The giant spider hisses long and loud, like she was laughing, as she scuttles and sinks back into the darkness of Enid’s shadow.

Enid shakes her head with fondness as she takes the next flight of stairs two at a time. The climb up to her dorm room was a bitch every time, but it was worth it at the end of the day for the size of the room, and the gorgeous view of the campus and the sky. It also offered a lot of privacy since the room branched slightly from the rest of Ophelia Hall. Enid jogged down the fourth and final floor of Ophelia Hall, hitting the end of the hall she turned left down a narrow and short hallway to take another flight of stairs that spiraled upward.

The tower of Ophelia Hall is old, and usually dusty, but Enid stares in shock at seeing the open space in front of the room being spotless; the only bits that hadn’t been cleaned were the cobwebs up in the rafters. But what really grabbed Enid’s attention was the elevator door sitting jarringly within the wall that connects to the main building of the dormitory. Well, that surely confirmed her roommate is disabled, or Headmistress Weems is just really thorough.

Enid shakes her head, and she arches her back - puffing out her chest with determination set within her mind. She is going to make a good first impression, she is going to be friends with her roommate. She didn’t need another death caused by spider bite on her records. The blonde marches forward, knocks just in case her roomie was in, and then throws open the room.

And Enid is thrown into nostalgia.

Wednesday stood there still and silent, her dark gaze unblinking in the fading sunlight; her light brown skin washed with reds and oranges and yellows, her midnight black hair refusing to be touched by the colors of a sunset.

Enid didn’t understand why everyone was so afraid of her best friend. Sure, Wednesday likes spiders and the dark, and her family and her were a bit weird, but the short girl is so pretty! She’s super cute, and nice, and smells amazing - like honey and books and flowers. The little werewolf didn’t care that she hardly showed an ounce of emotions, or was constantly threatening bodily harm. People just didn’t understand that those threats were jokes, or that if you wanted to understand what Wednesday is feeling, you have to look into her doll-like eyes. And how could you not stare into those dark eyes, big and expressive and the color of freshly brewed coffee.

“Enid, if you do not wish to be friends anymore, I’d prefer you deliver this news with a knife between my ribs.”

Oh, right, they were fighting - well, not fighting per se, but Enid could tell Wednesday wants it to be a fight; the shorter girl has been wanting to wrestle ever since she found out Enid was a werewolf.

“That’s not what I meant, Wenny! We’re still best friends!” Enid clutches Beowulf tighter against her chest, borrowed from Wednesday’s bed for the moment to give her the strength for this talk.

Wednesday’s brow faintly furrows, unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t the little witch’s family, or Enid. “I don’t understand, you said we cannot play anymore, what else could that mean other than the end of our friendship.”

Enid huffs, her bottom lip sticking out with her pout, “that’s not what I said, Wenny, I said we couldn’t play as much anymore! I’m starting school again next week, so I’ll be really busy and can’t hangout as much as I want to.”

“I...I see,” Wednesday’s mouth turns down into a visible frown. “What will happen then once you start to make other friends?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Wednesday hesitates for a moment, shifting on her feet as her gaze turns down toward the floor. Then the shorter girl sighs loudly before stomping over to Enid, she gracefully plops down onto the floor beside Enid, and snatches Beowulf from Enid’s arms.

“When you make new friends, better friends, what will that mean for us? Will I not be your best friend then?”

“What?! No way!” Wednesday jolts slightly at Enid’s very sudden, and very close, shout. The little werewolf scrambles onto her hands and knees, crawling quickly to sit in front of Wednesday; she reaches out and clasps Wednesday’s cheeks with her hands, squishing the little witch’s face between her palms. “You’ll always be my best friend, no matter what!”

Wednesday blinks - once, and very slowly - as she reaches up and pries Enid’s hands off of her face; but she doesn’t let go of them, instead holding on tightly to them. “Do...do you truly mean that?”

Enid rapidly nods her head, “I really do, Wenny! You’ll be my best friend forever, and ever!”

Wednesday squeezes Enid’s hand, “even until death?”

Enid shakes her head, “even after death, you mean,” the little werewolf flashes Wednesday a bright smile, “we’re gonna be ghosts together and haunt people, isn’t that what happens in your family? Like your Uncle Felix in the fifth guest room!”

The little witch inhales sharply, “yes but...sure, Enid, we will be ghosts together.”

The right side of the large room is dark - literally. A fresh coat of black paint has been applied to the walls, the floorboards stained black as well. A comfy looking black armchair it pressed up against the far wall beside the large, spiderweb window, a standing lamp hovering by the left armrest. An old, dark oak desk rests close to the right side wall, and faces Enid’s side of the room, another plush looking armchair squished up against the wall itself behind the desk. A queen-sized bed it shoved into the bottom right corner, the sheets and blanket colored dark as everything else.

For a moment, Enid swears she’s standing in Wednesday’s room once again; then she notices everything that’s wrong.

There’s a record player, cherry wood paneling with a glass covering; a small shelving unit beside it that’s overflowing with vinyl records that some had to be stack on the floor beside the unit. An oak wood treasure chest at the foot of the bed. A signed and framed poster of Orville Peck hanging over the record player. A black and brass typewriter on top of the desk. A bookshelf full of books about fantasy and romance and witchcraft. Dried herbs and flowers hanging from the rafters, bone charms dangling from the headboard of the bed. A warding stone placed right by the door.

Then the final nail in the coffin is the smell - honey and mint and sandalwood.

Enid dumps her bags onto her side of the room with a heavy sigh. Was it silly of her for hoping - for wishing, that her roomie would be Wednesday? Probably, but fuck everyone, she misses her best friend. Well, at least it seems like her new roommate had a similar aesthetic to her best friend, though that’s not surprising; a lot of witches have adopted the gothic style in recent years. But those losers didn’t even come close to being on the same level as Wednesday.

A few minutes after the blonde had started to unpack, she hears the machinery of the elevator come to life, lifting someone up to the tower. Enid throws the stuffed animal she had in hand to the side and bounces to the middle of the room with uncontrollable energy. It takes a moment before the elevator dings loudly with its arrival, the mechanical door sliding open; Enid hears the clicking of high heels, and the faint squeaking of wheels over the wood floorboards.

Headmistress Weems is easy enough to recognize by scent - lavender and tobacco smoke - but also by her accented voice as she speaks to who surely must be Enid’s roommate. “It truly has been a pleasure to speak with - oh! It seems your roommate has arrived, shall we meet her?”

Weems appears in the open doorway, bright red lips gently smiling, and she nods her head in greeting to Enid. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to your new roommate,” Weems said as she stepped, and then moved to the side to reveal the young woman that slowly wheeled in behind her. “Ms. Addams, this is Enid Sinclair.”

Enid gasps, her legs almost giving out from under her as she meets a pair of eyes so achingly familiar, that now belong to a stranger. The Wednesday Addams she knew had always stood tall, shoulders thrown back and chin tilted to the sky. The ghost that sat before her in an antique looking wheelchair of black leather and dark stained wood, looked everything, yet nothing like the proud pre-teen.

She sat low in the wheelchair, sinking down in the softness of it, her chin dipped down toward her collarbones like she couldn’t be bothered with wasting energy by looking up at people. A dark green, silk dress shirt left open to show off a black muscle tank; black denim jeans that were loose in the waistband and hang low on the young woman’s hips, and a pair of black slip-on sneakers. Long black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wild locks framing an angular face and dark eyes lined by heavy bruises from a lack of sleep.

Those dark eyes go wide, staring at Enid as if she was seeing something truly horrifying.

Enid takes a shaky step forward, “...Wenny?”

And like a puppet having her strings cut; Wednesday Addams sinks further down in her wheelchair as she faints.

Chapter Text

“Happy birthday, Wenny.”

Wednesday sighs softly, cracking open one eye to meet the brilliant gaze that glowed in the darkness of her bedroom. “Must you do this every time?”

“I promise I won’t do it next year, but this one is super important, you’re ten now Wenny!” Enid shifts from hovering over Wednesday to laying down next to the little witch. “What are you going to wish for?”

“A new werewolf rug.”

“Wenny!”

Wednesday huffs as she rolls onto her side to face Enid. “Is it not taboo to share wishes? For the fear of them not coming true if you do so.”

Enid pouts, she squirms and wiggles forward until she’s tucking the crown of her head under Wednesday’s chin. “I guess so...but I really want to know yours!”

“...Do you promise to quiet yourself and go to bed if I do share my wish?”

“Yes!”

Wednesday sighs as she brings an arm up and drapes it around Enid’s shoulders, holding the little werewolf closer as she closes her eyes. “I wish...para que te quedes siempre.”

Enid whines as her hands come up to lightly slap at Wednesday’s chest, “Wenny! That’s not fair!”

“You did not say I had to tell you in English,” Wednesday said, a slight smirk on her lips. “Now go to bed, or you will be too tired to attend my birthday.”

Enid squeaks, she buries herself further against Wednesday, throwing her own arm around Wednesday’s waist and hugging on tight. “Goodnight Wenny.”

Wednesday turns her head, burying her face against Enid’s hair and breathing in the smell of her sugary shampoo. “Goodnight Enid.”

Wednesday groans as she slowly comes back to consciousness. Her lower back is tight and burning with pain, however she ignores it as she focuses upon the odd, but bittersweet dream she had. She was returning to her new dorm room after touring Nevermore Academy with her new principal, when they discovered her roommate had finally shown up. Wednesday had mentally prepared herself for the worst, however, she could not anticipate the literal shock that flowed through her at seeing turquoise blue eyes that’ve been haunting her for the last eight years.

The young witch groans again, loudly this time as she feels a rapid tapping on her thigh. “Thing, I beg of you, if fainting is now a new aspect of my condition, then just take my favorite knife and slit my throat.”

“Oh wow, you’re still as dramatic as when we were kids.”

Wednesday’s eyes snap open, the rafters of her dorm room greet her; dried bundles of rosemary, thistle, and belladonna drifting in a soft, early autumn breeze. She grunts as she moves to sit up on her elbows, having been moved from her wheelchair to her bed. Thing stays in her lap, his fingers twisting and bending and snapping at a fast pace, but Wednesday ignores the severed hand’s frantic movements as she looks to the source of that heavenly voice.

It hadn’t been a dream, Enid Sinclair stood before her in the flesh - a dream made real.

Enid had grown even more into her beauty, a soft face of round features, cheeks dusted with a red blush and soft lips colored a bright pink. Her bright blonde hair fell to her shoulders in gentle curls, the tips dyed vibrant shades of pink and blue; though Wednesday notes a strip of black that weaves through a blonde curl. She wears a neon yellow long sleeve t-shirt, a white denim vest thrown over that’s covered in a mess of pins and patches, baby blue shorts that stop mid-thigh, and bright orange socks patterned with black spiders pulled up to the knees.

Wednesday felt like she was going to faint again.

The young witch tries to swallow down the lump in her throat, failing miserably as she croaks out, “En-Enid? Is...are-are you...real?”

Enid gives a wobbly smile, and Wednesday realizes that there’s a faint redness to the blonde’s eyes; she’s been crying. “I could ask you the same thing, Wenny - oh! Sorry, Wednesday, you probably don’t want to be called-”

“No!” Wednesday almost throws herself out of the bed, every instinct within her screaming at her to comfort, to love Enid. “No, you...you can still call me Wenny, I...I have missed hearing it...I have missed you, Enid.”

“I’ve missed you too,” The blonde whimpers softly, her smile turning less watery. Enid rubs at her eyes for a brief moment, before she straightens up with a weirdly intense and serious expression. “Okay Wenny, we’ve got a lot to talk about, I mean gosh it’s been eight years! And I gotta know Wenny because it’s really killing me...”

Wednesday sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, preparing the lie she wished she didn’t have to give her sweet Enid.

“...What’s up with the poster? You’re telling me that Wednesday Addams likes country now?!”

The young witch has no clue what deity made Enid Sinclair, but she thanks them every single day for the blonde’s simple and pure and beautiful mind. Wednesday sighs as she shifts and moves back on her bed, Thing scrambling from her lap to behind her; he quickly piles up her many pillows for her to lean back against.

“I enjoy older country stars such as Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton, however there’s a few modern day country singers I appreciate, Orville Peck is by far my favorite.” Wednesday gives a silent nod of thanks to Thing as she rests against her pillows.

Enid’s eyes gleam with interest, prowling Wednesday’s side of the room and taking everything in with a new understanding. This is Wednesday now; still dark and gloomy, but there’s a certain lightness - comfort, mixed into all of that inkiness. Enid stops in front of dozens upon dozens of records and starts looking through them.

“Can I play something?” Enid asks, a little desperate to hear Wednesday’s new taste in music. She remembers the afternoons spent in the witch’s room listening to classical strings, or Italian opera; the few times she got Wednesday to actually listen to some pop songs the witch had looked like she was in immense agony.

“Hm, you might enjoy some Lord Huron.” There’s the rustling of fabric, and Enid looks over her shoulder just in time to see Wednesday moving to get up.

“WHOA WHOA!” Enid rushes over and plants her hands onto Wednesday’s shoulders. “What are you doing?!”

Wednesday’s whole body shudders at feeling the warmth of Enid touching her once again; the witch reaches up and lays her hands over Enid’s. “Getting up. I can still walk, Enid.”

Enid huffs, her eyes narrowing slightly, “yeah and I know that fucking hurts like hell for you!”

Wednesday blinks once, “how do you know that?”

“Thing told me.”

“...Oh, of course he did,” Wednesday mutters, shooting a quick glare toward the severed hand.

Enid gingerly pushes Wednesday back from the edge of the bed. “Lay down, Thing can help me find the record, there’s no need for you to move.”

Wednesday scowls, dropping her hands from Enid’s, she shuffles back until she is leaning against her pillows again. “I am not fragile, Enid.”

“No doubt about that, bestie, but if Thing or me can handle whatever it is, I want you to just chill and relax.”

Wednesday crosses her arms, slumping down even further against her pillows, “...very well, but do not smother me, or I will end up smothering you, with a pillow.”

The werewolf flashes Wednesday a bright smile, and the witch has to quickly look away from the sight. “Gotcha! Come on Thing, let’s find some nice background music.”

The duo quickly moved back over to Wednesday’s vast vinyl records collection. The witch glances at Enid's half of the room, and frowns when she sees that the blonde has yet to fully unpack.

“Enid, how long was I unconscious for?”

Enid glances over her shoulder, “uh, an hour I think?”

Wednesday’s frown deepens, “what were you doing for that hour? You have not unpacked.”

“Oh! I totally forgot! Thing, I leave this to you,” Enid said as she bounds over to her side of the room. “I was so worried about you that I kind of just hovered.”

“You...you watched over me for that entire hour...”

Enid looks back with a sheepish grin as she grabs a duffle bag, “well my best friend in the whole wide world just showed up as my roomie after eight years of not seeing her, and then she immediately faints? I was going a little nuts about not knowing what to do.” The werewolf goes about unpacking her things as she keeps talking. “Luckily Thing is with you, which oh my goddess it’s so good to see him again! He explained your condition a bit, so I got you into bed and just talked with him until you woke up.”

Wednesday blinks very slowly, “I...see.”

“We really gotta catch up, like, excuse me but-” Enid whips around and saunters back over to Wednesday; she places her hands on the end of Wednesday’s bed and leans in. “Hello Mr. Handsome, what is-” she gestures to Wednesday’s whole body, “-all this?! Are you telling me you’re a lady killer now, Wenny?”

Wednesday’s shoulders bunch up to her ears, an unnoticeable heat to her cheeks. “I suppose you could say that; after you had moved away I spent more time around my cousins and...well, I learned more of the queer community and found a liking to the label of butch lesbian.”

Enid squeals, she clasps her hands together as she hops on the balls of her feet. “That’s great Wenny! Oh oh! You have to tell me all about your girlfriend-”

“I do not have a girlfriend.”

Enid freezes with her mouth unhinged; and then her brow furrows as her nose and mouth crinkle up looking utterly perplexed. “How in the fuck do you not have a girlfriend?”

Because I am madly in love with you. “You know I despise other people, I am quite content in only knowing my family, my Coven...and you, of course.”

“You know what, valid...and honestly, now that I have my bestie back in my life-” Enid smiles, all sharp teeth and gums, as she leans in even further across the end of the bed. “-I’m not really looking to share her with some other girl, so - I totally support the single life for you!”

Wednesday inhales slowly, hoping to the stars above that the heat that brands her face isn’t showing. The room is suddenly filled with the beginning track of Lord Huron’s album Strange Trails, quickly stealing Enid’s focus with an excited squeal. The witch lets out a silent sigh of relief as Enid bounces back over to her own side of the room; she is grateful for the werewolf’s short attention span.

Enid is still the same bubbly girl she once knew - bright colors and even brighter smile; but there’s a certain glint to her eyes and smile now. Wednesday saw it in that very moment, the dangerous shine of a dagger hidden behind a pretty face; it’s a beautiful reminder of Enid’s true nature. The blonde is a wolf - a predator - despite what the naysayers might claim.

The witch watches the werewolf as she sways to the music, folding up and putting away clothes, taping posters and pictures to the walls. Thing crawls back over to the bed, he settles down beside her leg and taps against Wednesday’s thigh with exhilaration.

“She’s back! Aren’t you happy to see her?” He asks, wiggling his fingers at the end of his question.

Wednesday carefully signs back to Thing, making sure Enid doesn’t notice the movements. “Of course I am, she is the love of my life.”

“And yet, you don’t seem joyous about this reunion.”

Wednesday huffs hard through her nose, her eyes narrowing down at the severed hand. “I am not spilling my guts to you, you are an awful gossip.”

Thing slams his palm against the mattress, “how dare you!”

The witch rolls her eyes, “oh stop being a drama queen.”

“Hm? Is everything alright over there?” Enid glances over her shoulder, pausing in her arranging of her stuffed animals.

“It is nothing, I was simply telling Thing that I will be fine getting dinner myself,” Wednesday said, pointing a cold glare to the hand - daring him to say something against her words.

“Oh! I can go for you!” Enid drops the fluffy, black spider in her hands and bounds over to Wednesday’s bed. “Whatever you want I can-”

“Enid.” The blonde immediately shuts her mouth, her eyes wide and shining with eagerness. “What did I say about smothering?” Wednesday grits out slowly with a cocked eyebrow.

Enid droops a bit, her smile turning sheepish, “right right, sorry...can I go with you? Get dinner together?”

Wednesday nods, crossing her arms and refusing to meet Enid’s eyes, “once you are done unpacking we may go.”

“Give me fifteen minutes!”

“You have ten before I leave.”

Enid knows Wednesday was joking, but she did indeed finish within ten minutes; she actually finished with ten seconds to spare! The werewolf patted herself on the back for her speediness. Sure she was going to have to go through her stuff later and tidy up the whirlwind mess she made by shoving anything anywhere; but it was totally worth it to see the impressed look on Wednesday’s face!

Enid skips along beside Wednesday as they head to the cafeteria in the main building. The blonde would have preferred going to one of the little restaurants on the outskirts of the campus, but Wednesday looked way too tired for the fifteen minute trip. Oh well, at least there was a nice, big courtyard outside of the cafeteria, set up with tables and benches for them to enjoy a meal outside when the weather allows it.

Now if only people would stop staring at them.

The werewolf barely keeps down her growl as Wednesday and her get their food; a chicken salad and two whole oranges for Wednesday, and three medium rare steaks for Enid. The blonde ignores the witch’s grumbled protest as she takes and carries both meals. Enid nudges Wednesday’s wheelchair with her hip, nodding her head to an empty table before she rushes toward it. She sets Wednesday’s salad down at one end of the table, and sits down at that end as well, bouncing a little on the bench as she grins wide at the witch.

Wednesday huffs as she parks herself at the spot chosen for her. “You are acting like a fool.”

“Well, excuse me for being so happy!” Enid said, immediately attacking her food - with fork and knife of course, she wasn’t a complete animal. “We get to hangout again, eat meals together - oh oh! We should hold our own revelry nights! Just like when we were kids!”

“Hm, I am not against the idea; I imagine the school coven does not hold up to my standard.”

“Wellll,” Enid draws out, bending over a little to speak low and close to Wednesday’s ear, “they’re definitely not your cup of tea, Wenny. I’ve never been to one, you know, but it’s not like the coven is very hush-hush about what they do; it’s just a lot of drinking from red solo cups and listening to dance music, so any ol’ college party, just witches only.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Wednesday sneers, “less and less witches these days follow the older traditions.”

Enid frowns, sharing in Wednesday’s disappointment; she scooches over to the very edge of the bench, and leans in and bumps her nose lightly against Wednesday’s temple. She slightly nuzzles her best friend, “it’s okay, Wenny, we’ll just have to show them that our way is better.”

Wednesday turns her head somewhat, returning the nuzzle half-heartedly against Enid’s chin. “If I find any of the witches here agreeable, then perhaps, but for now I am content with it being only us.”

“Whatever you want, Wenny,” Enid said, her eyes closing as she breathed in Wednesday’s scent, committing every new thing about the witch to memory.

She basks in the comfortable silence, hoping that it’ll last at least a minute longer; it surely seems like Wednesday doesn’t want to move away any time soon. However, all good things come to an end.

“Yo Enid!”

Wednesday jerks away from Enid, and the werewolf can’t help the low growl that bubbles up from her chest at the rude interruption. Nessie hisses from underneath the table, moving to crawl out from the shadows; but Enid quickly shoves the giant spider back down with her foot. She looks over, and Enid pales a bit when she sees not only Ajax, but Yoko, Divina, Kent, and Bianca approaching the table.

The group clutters the table, tossing down their own dinners and what bags and items they’ve brought with them. Ajax drops down beside Enid and throws an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug - and dragging her away from Wednesday. Now if this had happened any other time, Enid would have eagerly returned the embrace, but she was in no mood right now.

Yoko sits down across from Enid, but her shaded gaze is solely focused on Wednesday. “Hey, you must be the new kid, Enid’s roommate, right? Hope our pup here didn’t force you out of the dorm room to bond,” Yoko said with a fanged smirk.

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, without breaking eye-contact she pulls out a pocket knife from seemingly nowhere and starts to unpeel one of the oranges. “Hardly, she could not pressure me into doing anything.”

Enid wiggles out of Ajax's grip, moving back over to sit as close as possible to Wednesday. “Guys, this is not only my roomie, but bestie Wednesday Addams!”

Divina, who had been taking a drink of her water, spits it out all over her twin brother; Kent cries out in disgust as Divina coughs out a lung against her forearm.

“Whoa, hold up, this is Wenny?!” Yoko jabs a finger at Wednesday.

“Ah, I see you talk about me, Enid...I hope you have said nothing but terrible things.”

“Oh, the worst!” Enid flashes the witch a bright grin, “I told them about the time you cut off a man’s finger because he yelled at me!”

Wednesday sighs wistfully, a small smirk curling up the corner of her mouth, “I remember, I used the bones for my very first charm.”

Enid gasps, she reaches out and grasps onto Wednesday’s forearm, shaking her a little. “Oh my moon, we have to make some charms together, you were just starting to teach me about good luck ones!”

“When we have the time, we will continue your lessons,” Wednesday brings her knife up to her mouth, and slowly she licks the juice of the orange off the blade. Enid finds herself enthralled with the sight.

Yoko glances over to Bianca, tilting down her black-out glasses and giving a look that screams ‘can you believe this shit.’

Bianca shakes her head, she leans around Kent to catch Wednesday’s attention. “So, you’re the Maiden of the Addams Coven, why did you pick Nevermore as your place of study?”

“Oh, you know about witch customs...and yet you appear to be a siren.”

“Right!” Enid jumps in, “totally forgot to introduce you guys, sorry! Wenny, these are my friends; Yoko, Divina, Bianca, Kent, and Ajax,” the werewolf points to each person as she says their name.

Wednesday nods her head in greeting, “I trust Enid’s judgment when it comes to people, therefore I will make sure to be polite in future conversations.”

Enid giggles, “that means she’s willing to give you a chance, but you all are on thin ice!”

“And to answer your question, Bianca; Nevermore Academy was chosen for me, my mother knows Headmistress Weems and trusts that she will keep me safe during my time here.” The witch pops an orange slice into her mouth.

Bianca’s brow furrows slightly, “and you’re alright with that?”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, “why would I not be? My mother has my best interests at heart, and she herself went to Nevermore in her youth; if this place was good enough for her, it is good enough for me.”

“Well, good to know you don’t have mommy issues,” Yoko snickers.

Wednesday frowns faintly as she looks to Enid, “what are...’mommy issues?’”

Enid shoots a hard stare at Yoko, “nothing you’ll ever have to worry about, Wenny, it’s something I suffer from.”

“...Oh, I think I understand, your mother is indeed an issue.”

“Gosh, I’ve missed you so much, Wenny.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday awakes the moment Enid does. The first rays of daylight are just starting to peek through the large window of their room; and the witch makes no move to get up. She simply lays there with her eyes shut and listens to Enid shuffle around her side of the dorm; until the blonde creeps over to Wednesday’s side. Wednesday slowly peeks one eye open, and she can’t stop her soft smile when she sees Enid by her record player. The blonde quickly scans the records before plucking one out with a quiet “ah ha!” Soon Daytona Sand starts to play, and Wednesday sighs lightly as she fully opens her eyes.

“Are you going to touch my records every morning?”

Enid jumps about a foot into the air, but she whips around with a blinding smile. “Wenny! Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Wednesday shakes her head as she slowly sits up, “no you did...not...” The witch frowns as she twists her torso side to side, and then places her hands against her lower back and aches forward, “...huh...I guess we are having a good day then.”

“What’s up, Wenny?” Enid moves over to Wednesday’s bed.

Wednesday tosses back her weighted blanket and shifts to the edge of the bed; she curls her toes and twirls her ankles in small circles. “My pain is very mild today.”

Enid gasps, “that’s wonderful Wenny!”

Wednesday carefully gets out of bed, blinking a few times as she comes to stand face-to-face with Enid rather than staring up at the blonde. Well, she still had to stare up at the werewolf, but at least it wasn’t from her wheelchair. Wednesday grabs her cane before she walks a few circles around the room. There was still pain, of course, but it was less of a nine on the scale, and more of a five.

“A very good day,” Wednesday mutters as she goes to her closet.

“This is awesome! If you want, I can show you some of my favorite spots around campus, or we can go into town if you need anything?”

Wednesday sets her cane against the wall, she takes off the muscle tank she fell asleep in and tosses it back into the main room. She grunts as she pulls on a sports bra, “I suppose we could, I do wish to better familiarize myself with the campus before classes start next week.”

“Great! We can also get breakfast at my favorite coffee shop, they make an amazing espresso, you’ll love it Wenny!”

“I am sure I will, Enid.” Wednesday carefully pulls down her flannel pants, throwing those out to join the tank top. She grabs a pair of acid wash black jeans and puts those on, not caring when they slip down low enough on her hips to show off the waistband of her boxers.

“Oh! Speaking of classes, what are you majoring in?”

Wednesday searches through her shirts until she settles on a black t-shirt that shallows up her thin frame. “Alchemy and occult studies, with a minor in literature.” She snatches up a pair of black socks before grabbing her cane and leaving the closet. She nods her thanks to Thing when she notices the severed hand had cleaned up her tossed clothes.

“Holy shit, Wenny!” Enid shouts from within her own closet, “that’s a lot, are you sure you’re gonna be alright with that kind of workload?”

“Yes, I know the subjects quite well...and what of you? What is your major?” Wednesday sits down on her bed, silently gesturing to Thing to grab her shoes as she puts on her socks.

“Photography!” Enid bursts out of her closet, a bright smile on her face. The werewolf moves to stand in front of the witch, giving a little spin to show off her outfit, “what are we thinking of the fit? Cute enough?”

She has the patch covered white vest on again with a bright pink sweater, a purple mini skirt with red and black spiders embroidered on the hem, white ankle boots, and pastel yellow thigh highs. The werewolf did indeed look very cute, and Wednesday bit her tongue to keep her inner thoughts at bay. The witch turns her gaze away, focusing onto Thing as he comes crawling over with her slip-on sneakers.

“You look adequate,” Wednesday mutters, putting on her shoes and then quickly standing up; and she stumbles a little.

Enid catches the witch by the waist, and Wednesday plants her palms firmly against Enid’s shoulders as she rights herself. “Whoa, careful there, Wenny, we don’t want you to take a tumble.”

Wednesday huffs, ducking down her head as the warmth of Enid soaks through her clothes, digging past her skin and settling among her bones. “Thank you, my balance isn’t as it used to be.”

“That’s alright, I’ll always be here to catch you when you need it.” Enid reaches past Wednesday and grabs her cane, she hands it to the witch with a soft smile, “love the cane, by the way, are those runes carved into it?”

Wednesday takes her cane back; a gift from her father given at the beginning of the curse. Made from aspen wood, it has been stained a midnight black, and runes faintly carved along the entire length of it; the head of the cane is solid gold and has been shaped and detailed into the head of a snarling wolf with sapphire eyes. Wednesday rubs her thumb against one of the wolf’s flatten ears.

“They are, I will let you examine them at another time.” Wednesday moves to her desk and snatches up her wallet, she moves toward the door as she shoves it into her back pocket. “Thing, are you coming?”

Thing wags his forefinger back and forth, then gestures to Wednesday’s bookcase before he signs, “I’ll be spending the morning reading and then I believe some light stalking of the school coven is due, don’t you agree young master?”

“Hm, an excellent use of your afternoon, I approve.”

“Oh oh! I recommend following around Ruby Ashwood, she’s kind of at the top of the food chain since there’s no Maiden at the school - well, there is now, but you know what I mean.”

Wednesday frowns as she looks at Enid, “I am the only Maiden here?”

Enid nods, “Ms. Thornhill is the acting Mother of the Nevermore Coven, and I believe your alchemy professor is the acting Crone, but there’s no Maiden among the students; a lot of the witches here are Sisters from newer covens.”

Wednesday huffs, slightly shaking her head, “Grandmama will be disappointed once she learns of this; one of my duties as a Maiden is to meet Maidens of other covens, to share knowledge with them and make connections...”

“Well, on the bright side, you can learn a thing or two from the vampiric mages and the sea witches,” Enid said with a brilliant smile.

The witch does perk up a bit at that, “that is what I have missed most about you, Enid, you can always find the silver lining about situations.”

Enid beams, a faint flush turning her cheeks pink, “it’s why we work so well together; you’re realist, I’m idealist.”

“I prefer the word pessimistic.”

Enid rolls her eyes as she bounds forward, “I can invite Yoko and Divina over tonight if you wanna start making friends; Yoko is actually majoring in occult studies as well, and while Divina is no sea hag - she can brew up a remedy for a killer hangover with ease!”

Enid opens the door for Wednesday, and the witch nods her thanks as she walks past, “I appreciate the offer, but I do not want anyone in the room until I have deemed them worthy of my time.”

“Gotcha! Our room is for you and I only!”

“You...do not mind that? I understand if you wish to invite-”

Enid waves her hand, cutting off Wednesday’s sentence, “it’s totally cool, Wenny! I can drop by their room whenever I want anyways, and besides, I like us having our own private space.”

Wednesday goes over to the elevator, she leans her weight against the wall as she pulls out her wallet and takes out her student ID. She swipes the card on the keypad next to the elevator door, it beeps and flashes green before the door opens. Wednesday steps inside and Enid follows in.

“Oh man, I can already hear all the complaints about this; if anyone harasses you about letting them tag along when you’re using the elevators, let me know, I’ll have a stern talk with them.” Enid bares sharp teeth in a false smile, her fingers slightly curling as her claws extend.

Wednesday hides her flush by turning her head away; she quickly hits the button for the first floor. “Thank you for the offer of violence, I should be fine dealing with them on my own.”

“Of course Wenny! I’m sure you’ve broken a few bones with that cane already!”

Wednesday rubs her thumb between the golden wolf’s ears, straying down to pass over the left sapphire eye; a faint smirk curling her mouth as she recalls a wonderfully brutal memory. “I cracked a boy’s skull with it when he tried to take it from me.”

Enid giggles, those turquoise blue eyes turning as warm as the ocean during summer. The blonde reaches out, brushing her fingertips over the back of the hand that held the cane, almost stilling to lay atop Wednesday’s, but woefully she draws her hand back. “I’ve missed you so much, Wednesday, and I’m gonna drive you insane for the rest of the month by constantly saying that.”

“Impossible, I’ve already been driven to insanity by your mere presence alone.”

“Awe Wenny,” Enid giggles again, leaning in close as she wraps an arm around Wednesday’s shoulders, “you sure know how to flatter a girl!”

The elevator dings loudly, the door sliding open to the common room of Ophelia Hall; Wednesday steps out first with Enid right on her heels. Despite the early morning there were a number of girls milling about the sofas, talking over cups of coffee and breakfast pastries. The best friends immediately drew attention; Wednesday stands as tall as she can under their prying gazes.

A warm hand slides across the middle of her back, wrapping around her left rib cage, the fingers slightly digging in just underneath her breast and settling there like a brand against her heart. “Is this alright?” Enid’s words ghost over the shell of her ear.

Wednesday swallows down the rising tide of affection that so badly wanted to shatter her teeth. “Yes,” the witch switches her cane to her left hand - leaning her weight that way, and more into Enid’s grip. “Let us be on our way, you promised me an espresso, and I will need it if I wish to get through the day without committing an act of violence against someone.”

If anyone was to ask Enid what her happiest memory is; she’d have a hard time picking. There are so many good ones from her childhood, like her twelfth birthday where the Addams Coven had gifted her a ritual knife of her own. Made from the femur of an old wolf that died peacefully upon the Addams’ lands, with a resin handle filled with the purple blooms of viola tricolor - wild pansies; she sleeps with it under her pillow. However, she’s not sure if any of those childhood memories could beat the one being made right now.

Most people won’t see what’s so special about walking around with your hand resting on your best friend’s side, but those people didn’t have a Wednesday Addams in their life. The witch would allow Enid to hold her hand as kids, but only her hand; having the shorter girl practically snuggled up to her side as they walked would have earned her a blade between the ribs. Also, to be fair, they weren’t really close, there was a wide enough gap between them for Enid to comfortably reach, and for Wednesday to walk with ease with her cane. But still, this is the happiest Enid has been in the last eight years.

That happiness doesn’t last long though, ending the moment they walked by a group of students heading the opposite way of them. Enid’s keen hearing picks up the whispers that spring to life behind their backs.

“Isn’t that the new chick?”

“I thought she couldn’t walk, she was rolling around in a wheelchair yesterday.”

“Looks like she can walk perfectly fine to me.”

“Well, she’s got a cane, maybe she had a flare up yester-”

“Oh stop, she probably has a bad knee and just milks it for attention; it’s no secret that the older covens are falling out of popularity these days, being the Maiden of the Addams Coven is probably not good enough for her-!”

Blonde, gray eyes, the smell of smoke and herbs and some overly floral perfume that irritates Enid’s sensitive nose - a witch. The name doesn’t immediately pop into Enid’s head, but she knows the face, she has seen the girl hang around Ruby. The blond witch is clawing at Enid’s hand and wrist, choking against the pressure on her neck as Enid holds her up high in the air, feet dangling a few inches off of the ground. Nessie hisses behind her, keeping the blonde witch’s group at bay with a flex of her fangs and the deadly venom that drips from them.

It would only take a twitch of her fingers, the smallest curl, to end the girl’s life; her claws would pierce the skin effortlessly. However-

“Enid, put her down.”

Her Wenny can be kind, sometimes.

The werewolf drops the blonde witch without a second thought, already moving back over to Wednesday’s side as Nessie gives one last good hiss at the group before scuttling over to join her mistress. The expression on Wednesday’s face is unreadable as always, but Enid swears her eyes seem brighter, burning with an unknown flame - maybe delight at witnessing Enid’s act of protectiveness? If so, the werewolf makes a note to herself to do it more often, to make Wednesday happy.

Enid wraps her arm back around Wednesday, gently rubbing her fingers up and down the witch’s ribs, slowing her breathing to match Wednesday’s deep and sluggish intakes. They must make a sight; Wednesday with her black men’s clothing, and Enid in her clashing colors and feminine style - a giant spider standing on the other side of the witch. No wonder the group of students look so freaked out.

Wednesday brings her cane in front of herself, laying her right hand atop the left as she leans forward slightly. Her cold glare takes in each person one by one, staying on the blonde witch for the longest of time, before she finally speaks. “I have no care for what people think or say about me, but I cannot say the same for my loved ones, take this as a lesson; do not speak ill of a person when they are ten feet away from you, and their best friend is a werewolf, you will end up dead.”

“Oh! That’s right, your name is Samantha Stone!” Enid said with a sharp grin, pointing a clawed finger at the blonde witch. “I’ll remember that the next time I see ya!”

“Yo-you’re crazy!” Samantha scrambles onto her feet, her voice hoarse from having her throat almost crushed.

Nessie hisses, almost lurching forward, but she calms as Wednesday places a hand onto one of the spider’s legs. Enid lets out a bark of a laugh, the teeth in her mouth large and pointed, “crazy? Wednesday is a member of my pack, and you don’t mess with a werewolf’s pack.”

Samantha looks like she’s about ready to hex them, but a large hand grabs the blonde witch by the shoulder. “Chill it, Stone, Sinclair had every right to fuck you up.”

Enid lights up with a genuine smile, her wolfish features melting away with her delight, “Leo!”

Leo Marsh is a mountain of a werewolf; a mane of dark brown hair with reddish tips, amber eyes, and skin tanned by spending countless hours outside. They nod to Enid as they step between Samantha’s group and the duo, their focus turning back to Samantha. “Just like witches, we werewolves have laws too, and one of ‘em states that the leader of a pack has every right to defend the honor of their pack members,” Leo said, their voice a deep rumble with a heavy drawl of a southern accent.

“Sh-she tried to kill me!”

Leo raises an eyebrow, “I would too, Sinclair isn’t special for being a bit bloodthirsty; now get the fuck out of here, your voice is grating to my ears.”

Samantha huffs and puffs, her face turning more and more red in rage; but with two werewolves and a giant spider standing before her, she simply stomps away, her group racing after her. Leo shakes their head as they look at Enid and Wednesday. “Sorry for stepping in, Sinclair, but I figured if I didn’t there’d be more blood on your hands, literally.”

“Oh you’re totally fine Leo, thanks for the help!” Enid beams while Nessie slowly slinks away back into Enid’s shadow.

The large werewolf glances at Wednesday, “you must be Addams then, a pleasure to meet ya, Enid has mentioned you in the past.”

Wednesday scowls faintly, “who are you?”

“Ah, the name’s Leo Marsh, leader of the Nevermore Pack, you’ll probably see me around, I try to keep a good relationship with Sinclair here.”

Enid gives Wednesday a light squeeze, drawing the witch even closer to her side, “Leo invited me to join the Nevermore Pack last year, but I refused - politely! I really wanted to make my own pack, and I did, technically.”

“Most werewolves view non-wolf packs as not actual packs, but I think that’s bullshit, the Marsh Pack has plenty of non-wolves in it,” Leo said with a low snarl. “Anybody going around saying Enid’s Pack isn’t a true pack will be taking a swim in the lake.”

“Hm, I see...you have my respect then, Marsh,” Wednesday switches her cane back to her left hand once more. “However, if any fool says such things that means they have a death wish, and I will deliver it swiftly.”

Enid coos, leaning down slightly to nuzzle her nose against Wednesday’s temple. “Isn’t she the best? Don’t worry about me anymore, Leo, I got my Wenny here to keep me safe!”

Leo huffs in amusement, a wolfish grin revealing sharp teeth, “Sinclair, I think people need protection from you.”

“Awe, thanks!”

“Anyways, I’ll let you ladies get back to your day,” Leo said, already turning away from the duo, “have a good day, may the Lady shine on you.”

Enid returns the saying with a sunny tone, “may the Lady shine on you!”

The spring returns to the werewolf’s step as they keep going onward down their path. They walk on in silence, but when Enid glances over at Wednesday she can see a slight furrow between her brows, clearly thinking. “What’s up, Wenny?” Enid asks softly, drumming her fingers lightly against Wednesday’s ribs.

“Ah, I am simply...curious, you have made a few allies here, will you...tell me about your previous year?”

“Oh of course Wenny!” Enid swoops in and nuzzles Wednesday’s temple again, “we can totally stay up late tonight and just gossip! I can give you so much dirt on some of the more popular people here.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond crinkle to her eyes, “that’s not what I meant Enid.”

Enid sighs, ruffling Wednesday’s bangs with the puff of air. “You’re no fun, Wenny, but alright we can chit chat about the trouble I’ve gotten into.”

“I find myself in disbelief that you have caused misery, I am aching to know what mayhem you have sowed.”

“I can’t wait to tell you, but first, breakfast!”

The Weathervane is nothing remarkable, but Wednesday is appreciative that it isn’t large, nor busy at the moment. There are a few other students dotted around, getting a quick breakfast and a dose of caffeine before they brave the day. Enid guides Wednesday over to a booth at the windows, tucked away in the corner. The witch takes a seat, letting out a barely audible sigh of relief as she lays her cane on the rest of the booth seat.

Enid pouts a bit as she slides into the seat across from Wednesday; the witch smirks faintly at the sight. “You act as if your favorite chew toy has been taken away.”

“I wanted to sit next to you,” the blonde mutters, slumping down and placing her chin on the surface of the table.

“We share a living space, Enid, you will survive sitting across from me for a time.”

Enid opens her mouth to speak, but they are approached by a member of the staff; a tall, lanky young man with a short mop of brown curls that also get into his eyes - his name tag reads Tyler. He gives a boyish, somewhat awkward smile to Enid, one of familiarity.

“Hey Enid, good to see you’ve returned to Nevermore, is this a new friend?” He asks as he pulls out a small notepad and pen.

Enid sits up with a bright smile, “Tyler, oh my moon, this is my childhood and best friend Wednesday Addams! Wenny, this is Tyler Galpin, he goes to Nevermore too.”

Wednesday gives a single nod to Tyler, “hello.”

Tyler’s eyes go wide, almost bugling out of his skull, “wait, you’re the one that released Brazilian wandering spiders in the boy’s locker room?!”

“Ah, now that’s a cherished memory,” Wednesday smirks, small and dagger-like. “If they did not wish to face my wrath, then they should have left Enid alone.”

Enid’s own big smile turns razor-sharp and dangerous, “she’s got a fair point! Anyways, I’ll be getting my usual and Wenny here...hm, what do you like these days, Wenny?”

“Most days, enough caffeine to kill a full-grown man, but on such a terrible day like this...black tea, if you have it.”

“We-we do,” Tyler stutters, still gawking at Wednesday.

Wednesday raises an eyebrow at him, “awful, then I suggest you get to it before I gouge out your eyes, it’s rude to stare.”

Tyler jolts, he turns around sharply and stumbles over his own feet in his haste to get away from the table. Enid giggles as she reaches across the table and lays out her hands in front of Wednesday; she makes a grabbing motion with them. Wednesday places her hands within Enid’s palms, her heart fluttering as Enid intertwines their fingers, her smaller hands fitting perfectly with Enid’s larger ones.

“You’re so mean, Wenny,” Enid practically purrs.

The witch stiffens as she feels the tip of Enid’s boot slide up the side of her right calf. “Thank you, Enid,” while her voice remains monotone and steady; a whirlwind of bats awakes in her stomach, her usually sluggish heart beat picking up pace.

Enid hooks her foot around Wednesday’s, and keeps it there as she speaks, “alright I promised you some stories from last year, let’s see...oh! I went to court because Nessie killed a guy here!”

“Congratulations, I am sorry you could not snuff out his life yourself, might I ask why...Nessie killed him?”

Enid hesitates for a moment, “...he uh...he couldn’t take no for an answer, I warned him to stay away, he didn’t listen...Nessie took care of him.”

“I...see,” Wednesday grits out, she clenches her jaw tight to keep down her swell of rage. “I take back my former statement, I am upset that I could not slowly torture him and make him suffer a fate worst than death.”

“Thanks, Wenny, but honestly don’t worry about it, you kept me safe at the end of the day.”

The witch looks to the blessing wrapped around Enid’s right wrist, the pink yard and her own lock of hair are in shockingly good condition; most blessings only last five years, some longer depending on the strength and age of the witch. Wednesday’s own blessings should last for ten years, but the blessing she gave as a child? Well, it should have become nulled when they were eleven. Then there was the size of Nessie.

“Enid, once we return to our room, I wish to look over your blessing.”

The werewolf tilts her head in confusion, “why? Is there something wrong with it?”

Wednesday shakes her head slightly, “there is nothing wrong with it per se, simply a few...oddities about it.”

Enid nods, and with a shrug of her shoulders she lets go of Wednesday’s and then removes the woven bracelet. “Here you go!”

“En-Enid, you do not need to-”

Wednesday stops talking as Enid shoves the blessing into her hand, “it’s fine, after-all I have you with me, Wenny!”

The witch ducks her head a little, moving her gaze down to her lap, clutching the braided bracelet in her fist. “I will return the blessing soon...thank you for your trust.”

The blonde waves her hand, dismissing the grateful words with soft eyes and a tender smile, “geez Wenny, you act as if I don’t trust you with my life, I would rather run into your arms than the arms of my dad.”

“Enid,” Wednesday hisses quietly, “do not say that.”

“Why?”

Because it gives me too much hope. “Those words belong to your future paramour, not your best friend.”

Enid snorts, she leans back with crossed arms, her foot rising up the back of Wednesday’s calf. “I think I get to decide that Wenny, not you, and I say my bestie is totally deserving of my undying affection.”

Wednesday falls silent, sinking back against the firm padding of the booth seat. With uncertainty she knocks her other foot against Enid’s, and the werewolf’s mood brightens as she returns the gentle nudge. Enid quickly dissolves into a giggling mess as they play footies without a word.

Wednesday worries the blessing endlessly in her hand.

Enid leaves their room as the sun starts to set, saying that Yoko should be awake by now and wanting to visit the vampire before the evening gets too late. Wednesday takes this time of privacy to investigate her first and only blessing.

Wednesday sits in the middle of the room, the lights turned off and curtains pulled over the large window. Thing taps around the witch as she sets carved bones around a clay bowl of water, dried petals of a moonflower floating upon the still surface. Wednesday finishes setting the circle of bones, holding out a hand Thing gives over the mortar and pestle, a mix of fresh basil and dried sunflower petals. The witch rubs at her gums, and she gives a pleased hiss as her fangs drop out from their sheathes; she holds the mortar under one of her fangs, and carefully presses against the back of her fang with a thumb until droplets of venom slowly leak out. Three drops into the mortar and then she quickly licks her fang to prevent anymore falling into the mixture.

She starts to grind the ingredients together, but stills and looks as she hears Thing tap out a message to her, “what shall you do if the blessing has been tainted?”

“Hopefully I will be able to cleanse it, if not...I am sure Enid would not mind a new one.” Wednesday prays to the stars that Enid won’t mind if she has to destroy the childhood blessing; she’s sure that if Enid were to ever look upon her in fury, she will die on the spot.

Once she has a paste, she takes it and smears it over the woven bracelet. Wednesday carefully places the bracelet into the water, and then grabs a pinch of salt and sprinkles it over the water. The witch takes a deep breath before she leans over and puts her face into the water.

Wednesday opens her eyes to darkness surrounding her, and sitting across from her is...her - her true self. Six eyes of pure black regard her with curiosity, the main pair narrowed slightly, another pair sitting along her cheekbones near her temples, the third pair set within her brow and partially hidden by her bangs. Shiny black fangs reaching out from under her upper lip to end two inches past her chin. Black chitin covers most of her nude body, and eight long spindly spider legs expand from her back.

“Ah, I wondered what had taken me away from my mistress,” her doppelgänger hisses softly.

“Tell me, what are you,” Wednesday demands.

The doppelgänger tilts its head in confusion, “do you not recall? You summoned and bound me to my mistress eleven years ago.”

Wednesday’s brow furrows, her mind racing, “the only ritual I performed when I was ten was...the familiar summoning...”

The doppelgänger - no, the familiar spirit grins, “indeed, I am the familiar of Enid Sinclair, summoned and bound by her mate, you.”

Warmth floods the witch’s throat and cheeks, but she ignores the spirit’s words, “so the witch’s blessing faded and became a familiar’s binding, but the size of you is unnatural, I remember you being as big as my head when we were twelve. How have you grown when Enid is not a witch?”

“You. Enid is my mistress, I am bound to her, but you were the one who plucked me from the ether, I still have a tether to you, and I feed from it, and I feed well; you are a powerful witch, Maiden.”

“I see...so you are the reason I cannot summon my own familiar...”

“I apologize,” the familiar croons, truly looking remorseful, “for a witch to not have a familiar...well, I would not fault you for severing my bond to my mistress.”

Wednesday shakes her head, “I would not do that to Enid, she had been devastated when we had thought the summoning hadn’t worked for her, I am sure she will be overjoyed once I tell her the truth.”

“And what of you?” The familiar questions, “will she not be sorrowful when she learns the truth? That by keeping me, you cannot have what is your birthright, that you will never have your life-long companion?”

“...Gaze upon me, spirit, and ask yourself this question: does life seem fair to this witch? I have had many things taken from me; my independence, my privacy, my comfort, my ability to walk - to even sit up straight...my best friend, the love of my life, and like the cruel bastard that life is...it has given her back, to torture me with delusions of a possible future with her...So no, I don’t give a shit that I can’t have a familiar.”

The familiar frowns, tears forming in its six eyes, and the sight of herself close to tears is unsettling to Wednesday; she hasn’t seen such a thing since she was fourteen and had glanced in a mirror during a breakdown.

“You give much of yourself, Maiden, you sacrifice your own love and joy for the others around you, why?”

“...You do not want that answer, it is not a pleasant one.”

The familiar laughs, wet and wobbly, and tears spill down its cheeks, “I do not doubt, Maiden, but I hope in time that the answer will change, and that one day you will tell me then.”

“Hm, we will see.” Wednesday holds up a hand, readying to cut the connection, but pauses as a thought comes to her, “I must ask...why do you look like me, the real me?”

“Every familiar takes the shape of the creature that brings their mistress the most comfort, but you knew this already, Maiden.”

“...That does not answer my question.”

The familiar sighs heavily, “then it is not something I can answer, perhaps search for it within yourself, or better yet, ask my mistress.”

“You are an annoyance.”

The familiar shrugs its shoulders, “I have been called worse.”

Wednesday huffs in amusement, “what even are you called? Please tell me that Enid did not truly name you Nessie.”

“...My full name is Wednesday Junior.”

“I am going to kill myself.”

Chapter Text

“Wednesday...”

“In my defense-”

“Junior.”

“I WAS LITERALLY TWELVE!”

Wednesday lightly whacks the side of Enid’s calf with her cane, “out of all the damnable things you could have named her.”

Enid whines, bringing up her uninjured leg to cradle against her chest with an exaggerated pout. “You don’t need to abuse me over this!”

“You will change her name-”

“NO!”

“Yes.”

Enid crosses her arms and twists around on her bed to face the wall, “I refuse.”

“Enid this is utterly childish-”

“You asking me to change her name is childish!”

“...”

The werewolf glances over her shoulder, her smirk big and smug at having caught Wednesday speechless. “Wolf got your tongue?”

Wednesday huffs, turning around and moving back to the space where she set up her small ritual. “Fine, do as you please,” the witch kneels down and reaches into the bowl of water; she holds up the woven bracelet, and with a quick flick of the wrist it is dry and clean. Wednesday tosses it at Enid, and raises an impressed eyebrow when Enid catches it without even looking.

Enid sighs loudly as she whirls around, a small frown on her face, “are you sure you don’t want to-”

“No.” Wednesday picks up the clay bowl and steps toward the window, “as I told your familiar, I do not care about having one of my own, besides, Thing is a terrible assistant and companion as is,” the severed hand opens the window, and Wednesday pours the water out onto the balcony, “see? Horribly done, as always, thank you.”

Thing stands tall on his fingertips, preening under the praise and attention he is being given.

Enid gets onto her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the bracelet, “...I remember you being so excited, you know?” Wednesday tries to face away from the werewolf, but Enid is at her side within seconds and grabbing onto the witch’s shoulders, peering down into dark eyes with a gentle smile. “You were so sure your familiar would be a scorpion, you had a name picked out and everything...I remember how heartbroken you were when the summoning didn’t work for you.”

“You were mournful too,” Wednesday snarls, her hands curling into tight fists, “I will not take away-”

“You’re not taking!” Enid lightly shakes Wednesday’s shoulders, “I’m giving you something, for once, and something that is rightfully yours in the first place!”

“I am not severing the bond-”

“Then let me perform the summoning!”

“You are not a witch, stop acting like one!”

Enid jerks back, like she had been struck by a heavy fist; Wednesday’s stomach drops to her feet. “Enid...I-I didn’t-”

The werewolf holds up her hand, slowly stepping backwards away from Wednesday, “no, you’re right...I’m not a witch...sorry, I think I’m gonna get an early night.”

“Enid please-”

“Goodnight, Wednesday.” Enid snatches up her pajamas she left out on the end of her bed, she stomps into the bathroom and slams the door close behind her.

Wednesday stands there frozen, behind her a cold wind blows in from the still open window, thunder rumbling in the distance on a dark horizon. She reaches up and clutches at her shirt, her heart stuttering in her chest as she swears, she can feel a crack form in it.

Wednesday wakes up in choking agony, her face wet with tears and her eyes blurry and burning. The witch throws back her blanket, fumbling and almost falling out of her bed. Thing immediately springs up from his dreams at hearing her slight struggle. Luckily, Enid was still sound asleep. The severed hand hops out from his little nest upon Wednesday’s desk and scuttles over to her.

“Young master, what are you doing? It’s late, the sun will not be up for another few hours,” Thing signs, watching helplessly as his troubled ward blindly grasps for her cane.

“I can’t, I can’t,” Wednesday moans in pain, finally getting a hold onto her cane. She forces herself onto her feet, she almost cries out, but she grits her teeth and pushes through the torment. “Get my black box, now,” she hisses softly as she hobbles toward her closet and grabs a sweatshirt, pulling it on with unsteady hands.

Thing quickly moves back to the desk. Wednesday steps back to her bed and goes for her wheelchair that rests only a few steps from it. The witch sits down and places her cane within its holder on the wheelchair. Thing appears once more in front of Wednesday, a small black box carefully balanced upon the stump of his wrist.

“Thank you,” the witch whispers as she takes it.

“Please, young master, you should go back to bed.”

Wednesday shakes her head as she opens the box, “I cannot, and I do not want to.” She takes out a pinch of shredded white fibers and shoves it into her mouth, her tongue numbs with a disgustingly bitter taste as she chews. She takes another pinch.

“Wednesday! You shouldn’t take so much!” Thing frantically signed, almost shaking in alarm.

The witch ignores him as she closes the black box after taking her second pinch of the plant, “my wallet, Thing,” she mumbles around the medicine. She wheels over to her nightstand and places the box within the drawer, Thing rushes back over and hopping up onto her lap with her wallet held between his fingers. She quietly moves to the door, mindfully opening it and then closing it behind her.

Wednesday takes out her student ID, swiping it through the keypad, and the elevator door slides open with a loud ding. Thing taps against Wednesday’s thigh, “Enid will be upset.”

“She is already angry with me, let her fury kill me,” Wednesday presses the button for the first floor.

“Apologize, she will forgive you!”

“I tried and she did not listen.”

“It was within the heat of the moment, young master, I am sure if you tried again, she would listen this time.”

Wednesday shallows the medicine, shuddering at the cool sensation that flows down her throat, leaving it numb and raw all at once. “Enough Thing, I am...I am exhausted, I simply wish to have some time to myself.”

Thing slumps, but he bops a little as a sign of understanding, “very well, I shall return to the room, but please be careful while on your own.”

“I am crippled, not a child, not weak,” Wednesday growls, “I could burn this whole school down, slaughter everyone within these walls, do not forget that, you useless hand.”

Thing flinches, curling upon himself into a loose fist; Wednesday’s heart jolts, her spine cracks and she groans as she hunches over, “fuck!...I...I’m sorry, Thing.”

The severed hand hops up in worry, trembling about in her lap with fast movements of his fingers, “are you alright?! Do we need to contact your mother? Perhaps Grandmama?”

Wednesday shakes her head, “by the stars, no, I cannot have them worry, they will demand I return home at once if they think I am having the tiniest bit of trouble.”

“They worry nonetheless, young master, they care so deeply for you, we all do.”

Wednesday squeezes her eyes shut, willing back the tears that ache to escape, “I know, fools the lot of you...I am sorry for my words, Thing, I know better than to lash out at family...at friends...”

Thing pats her hand before tapping against the back of her hand, “I have had worse said about me from your uncle with more genuine anger, I do not fault you.”

The witch startles somewhat as the elevator dings and the door slides open to the first floor. Wednesday huffs as she wheels out of the elevator, “even then, I had no right to say that...the same with Enid.” She comes to a stop as Thing hops out of her lap.

“You two have a bond stronger than gravity, this will not ruin your friendship, it will only help it grow and reveal the darkness that hides within your hearts; but I will leave you now to enjoy a terrible stroll about the campus, young master.”

Wednesday nods, “I hope your nightmares are horrid...and thank you, for being with me, Thing...I truly have no need for a familiar when I have you at my side.”

The severed hand wiggles his fingers, turning away shyly as her words, “I will treasure such high praise, thank you!”

Wednesday watches Thing race off toward a vent, prying off the metal covering with ease and then disappearing into it; replacing the covering behind him, of course, he was raised with manners. The witch moves from Ophelia Hall and out into the night, the blessing around her left wrist glows a soft blue for a brief moment, and Wednesday sighs as her body relaxes with the wave of magic that washes over her. Wednesday is grateful for the soothing blessing, but she wishes desperately that her mother was here with her.

Wednesday moves without a thought, trying to keep her mind from drifting to Enid. The full moon had come and gone, a waning gibbous close to reaching third-quarter shining dim light through the thin windows of the ancient academy. The shadows stretch long, casting strange shapes across the floor and walls; it brings a small comfort of home, and the witch could for a minute imagine her mother’s slim figure stepping out from the darkest corner. She smiles faintly; there’s no doubt in her mind that Morticia used to terrorize her peers when she was a student here, materializing from the shadows that an unfortunate couple decided to use as cover for their passionate affairs.

Wednesday leaves the old stone walls of the main campus building, wheeling down to the wide lawns and walkways. Time slips by her as she strolls along the walkways, finding herself attracted to the pathways that run alongside the forest; they were the furthest from the campus buildings, and out here Wednesday could pretend that she was back at home, searching for deadly vipers and large arachnids. However, her daydreaming stroll is interrupted by the sudden snap of a twig, and then rustling of the undergrowth of the woods. Wednesday tenses up, her hand going down to her cane as her lips prepare a silent spell, her fingers tingling with the slow buildup of energy.

Though what bursts out from the forest is no hungering predator.

Her magic fizzles out with her puzzlement as Wednesday takes in the state of the young man. His hair is a mess of black curls, held back by bumblebee hair clips to keep them from falling into his face. Dark brown eyes staring at her doe-like, thick-framed glasses making them appear even bigger; soft facial features and brown skin much like her own. There’s a large pack on his back, hiking boots caked in mud, and a bright yellow, puffy vest with reflective tape all over it. Though what really grabbed Wednesday’s attention after her quick scan of the young man is the knotted staff of apple wood held in his right hand.

“Uh, hi,” the young man squeaks out, clearly caught off-guard at someone else walking around late at night, “enjoying a midnight adventure as well?”

“It’s three-forty-three in the morning.”

“Ah, um...wow, time really flies by when you’re catching bugs,” he laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his neck.

Wednesday tilts her head slightly, “you are a druid.”

The young man’s mouth drops open in surprise, “yeah, how could you tell?”

“Other than the staff? I can sense the magic dipping off of you.”

“Oh wow, thanks! Most of the magic folk around here don’t really notice me,” he said with a small smile.

Wednesday hums lightly, “from what I have seen so far, I am not impressed by them, but you...what is your name?”

“Eugene Ottinger!”

The witch frowns slightly, “do you not hail from a Grove?”

At the question, the druid’s energy turns a bit sorrowful, but he continues to smile, “nah, first druid of my family, my moms are humans.”

“I see, well then, perhaps in time you will make your own Grove,” Wednesday said with a small nod of her head.

Eugene lights up at that, “that’s what I’m hoping for - oh! But what’s your name?”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, “I am surprised you do not already know, I am Wednesday Friday Addams, Maiden of the Addams Coven, Black Widow.”

Eugene stamps the end of his staff against the ground twice, the knotted head of the staff blooming with honeysuckles and foxgloves; he bows slightly at the waist. “I’m honored to meet you, Maiden Wednesday, I never thought I’d meet someone from such a powerful Coven, and a fellow bug lover too!”

Wednesday gestures for him to approach her, “you said you were out here catching a few, do you prefer working with fauna?”

Eugene steps up to Wednesday, a wide grin upon his face as she journeys onward down the path and he walks along with her. “I mainly work my magic on insects, specifically bees.”

“Bees?...Why bees?”

“The reasons are endless! They are an irreplaceable species, one of the world’s most important pollinators...”

Wednesday listens as Eugene rambles on, the pair walking a wide circle around the campus. However, after an hour of speaking with Eugene, Wednesday’s focus becomes more and more fuzzy - to the point where she doesn’t even realize she stopped wheeling herself. The druid frowns a little seeing the glassy sheen to her eyes, the drooping of her head and posture.

“Wednesday? You alright?” Eugene asks softly, his hand hovering uncertainty over her shoulder.

“Hm, no, but I am used to that...my hands are numb...”

“Oh gosh, that doesn’t sound good, what dormitory are you in?” Eugene steps behind her wheelchair and starts to push her.

“Ophelia Hall...I have an Aunt Ophelia, she drowned her husband,” Wednesday mumbles, sinking back against her wheelchair, her eyelids fluttering close.

Eugene chokes a little on his shocked gasp, “um I don’t know if you should share that, Wednesday!”

Wednesday waves a hand, though it’s more like her hand flopped around, “he was an asshole, it’s okay.”

“Are you...” Eugene licks his lips nervously, “...high right now?”

“I took two pinches of dead man root.”

“HOLY SHIT WEDNESDAY!” The druid shrieks, “a single gram of that can kill five people!”

Wednesday huffs, she brings her legs up as she shifts sideways in her wheelchair, curling into a ball and wrapping her arms around her legs. “I’m immune to poisons, toxins, and venoms; we’ve found that other than being highly poisonous, dead man root is a wonderful painkiller for me, but another side-effect...yes, I’m very high right now, it takes awhile to kick in.”

“Oh fuck, I barely know you, I don’t want to be responsible for you while you’re high!”

Wednesday looks up at Eugene with a tiny pout, “but in covens that is the best way to make friends, you don’t want to be my friend?”

Eugene sputters, almost tripping over his feet, “of course I want to be friends! Just maybe let’s save getting high together once we know each other better.”

The witch sighs heavily, resting her head on top of her knees, “my Grandmama is way more fun than you.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t even know the lady!”

Enid paces her side of the room restlessly; this isn’t how she expected her day to go at all. Wednesday and Enid had such a lovely day together, ignoring the little fight with Samantha Stone. Then everything turned so sour when the familiar bond was brought up. She just couldn’t wrap her head around why Wednesday got so upset, why did she lash out?

Whatever the reason - Enid was going to grab it by the throat and strangle it to death. Oh, she had been hurt, and she had retreated with her tail between her legs, but only to recover and figure out her thoughts. She knew Wednesday; doesn’t matter if there’s been eight years of growth and change, she could still see the ghost of the little witch that haunts her childhood memories. And in that moment, as Wednesday snapped at her, Enid saw an endless amount of anguish in those dark eyes, but no anger - no intent to hurt feelings. Enid knows that look like the back of her hand.

Then she was awoken by the soft whimpers and near silent sobs of her best friend. Enid almost jumped out of her bed to be at the witch’s side, to comfort her through the pain; but the werewolf kept still, not wanting to push anymore than she already has. She laid there and listened as Wednesday whispered orders to Thing, listened to her shuffle about and grab her things, listened as she left in a quiet and gentle manner - careful not to wake Enid. She waited and waited and waited, thinking Wednesday had stepped out for a moment of privacy.

Two hours later and she was ready to tear out every last stitch on Thing.

“How could you just let her leave like that?! She’s clearly in agony, and stressed the fuck out, she shouldn’t be alone right now!”

“I worry too, but the young master wished to be alone, and I know better than to coddle her like a child. Also, I am but a single hand.”

“You’re about to be a single finger!” Enid roars, stomping toward the severed hand; a knock at the door stops her in her tracks. The werewolf narrows her eyes and points at Thing with a clawed finger, “don’t move.”

Enid quickly moves over to the door, throwing it open with a snarl, “this better be - WENNY!”

Wednesday had looked like she was close to falling asleep, until Enid shouted; the witch’s head shot up from resting against the back of her wheelchair. She blinks rapidly, bleary eyes squinting up at Enid, and then - Enid almost dies as a sleepy, little smile comes to life on Wednesday’s face.

“Enid!” Wednesday gasps, and surprises Enid by lurching up and out of her wheelchair.

Wednesday throws her arms around Enid’s neck, and the werewolf doesn’t think twice about wrapping her arms about the witch’s slim waist. Enid breaths out a soft sigh of relief, pressing Wednesday as close as she can against her body. “Gosh Wenny, don’t scare me like that.”

“M’sorry, so sorry,” Wednesday mumbles, her face buried into the crook of Enid’s neck, soft lips brushing the werewolf’s skin with each muttered apology. “I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t, you’re so special to me.”

Enid frowns a little at the odd way Wednesday was speaking, “Wenny, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah about that,” Enid jolts a bit at the unfamiliar voice; she glares at the young man that stood awkwardly in the doorway with Wednesday’s wheelchair. “Wednesday said she took some dead man root, so she’s um...not sober.”

Enid growls, turning her burning gaze now onto Thing, “you let her walk around knowing she was HIGH?!” Thing dashes toward the vent, leaping into the opening and disappearing without a word. “The next time I see you, I’m going to make ground beef out of you!” Enid screams after the severed hand.

“I’m just going to-”

“And you,” the werewolf growls, turning her fury onto the young man, “if I find out you did something to my Wenny while she was like this, I’m going to use your teeth for jewelry.”

The young man sputters, taking a few stumbling steps back, “I-I-I didn’t! I just talked with her and brought her back!”

“Likely story, you fucking-”

Hands cradle Enid’s cheeks, drawing those glowing blue eyes down to Wednesday’s hazy stare and warm smile, “Enid, Eugene is nice, leave him alone.”

Enid’s growl dies down into a low rumbling purr, she reaches up and cards her fingers through Wednesday’s loose hair, “alright Wenny, whatever you say.” Enid spares Eugene a single glance, “thanks for getting her back safe, don’t let Ms. Thornhill see you on your way out, she’ll make you into mulch if she catches you.”

Eugene gulps, his face turning pale as he nods, “uh, thanks I guess.”

Enid grabs Wednesday’s wheelchair and pulls it into the room; she flashes Eugene a large grin full of sharp teeth before slamming the door in his face. She leaves the wheelchair for now, shifting Wednesday in her arms and then with ease she sweeps the witch up into a bridal carry.

“Sorry if this is hurting your back,” Enid whispers as she brings Wednesday over to her bed.

“Can’t feel it right now,” Wednesday said around a yawn.

Enid sets her down on the edge of the bed, then helps Wednesday out of her sweatshirt. “Eugene said you took some dead man root, what is that?”

“Painkiller...for me, it would kill you,” Wednesday grunts out as she struggles a bit with taking off her sweatpants.

The werewolf stills Wednesday’s hands, “relax, I got you,” she said gently as she pulled off Wednesday’s pants for her.

“You...you...” Enid glances up at Wednesday, she freezes seeing tears building up in those dark eyes. “You should be mad at me, not helping me,” the witch croaks out.

“Wenny," Enid stands back up, she places one hand on the back of Wednesday’s head, and the other on the witch’s shoulder; Wednesday wraps her arms around Enid’s hips as the werewolf draws her in - encouraging Wednesday to bury her face against Enid’s stomach. “I was never mad at you, silly; sure I was hurt, but I knew you didn’t mean it, and it’s not like you’re wrong...I’m not a witch, and it’s about time I stopped playing pretend and grew up-”

“No!” Wednesday suddenly pushes away and tries to get up, but Enid’s superior strength keeps her anchored to the bed. “I was wrong, I’m wrong a lot of the time, you’re not a witch but you have magic like any other supernatural creature,” the witch once again tries to scramble out of Enid’s grip, “we can do the summoning, I should have the stuff-”

“Whoa, slow down Wenny, you’re in no state for any kind of ritual right now.”

Wednesday huffs with a roll of her eyes, “please Enid, many witches perform spells while as high as the clouds, and many perform them while also being utterly insane.”

Enid chuckles, “sure, but will you remember in the morning about any of this?”

“I...” Wednesday slowly narrows her eyes, “...I think so?”

“Okay, I’m gonna get you some water, and you’re going back to bed.”

“But the summoning!”

“I thought you said you didn’t need a familiar?” Enid questions with a playful grin.

Wednesday deflates at that, the tiniest pout taking her lips, “I don’t...but you really wanted me to have one.”

The werewolf shakes her head, she leans down and nuzzles the crown of Wednesday’s head. “You’re so sweet, Wenny, but if you don’t want one then you don’t want one, and I shouldn’t have kept pressing you about it.”

“Still not a reason to yell at you...”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have snapped at me, and I shouldn’t have pushed the topic so much...We’ve been best friends since we were kids...but we were kids, and now we’re not so little anymore - well - one of us isn’t so little anymore-”

“I’m gonna make you into a rug, I still want a werewolf one.”

Enid giggles and gives Wednesday a light shove, and giggles even more as the witch willingly moves with the force and lays out on her back. Enid plops down beside Wednesday, rolling half-way on top of the witch and rests her head atop Wednesday’s chest - closing her eyes as she listens to the steady heartbeat. “My point is,” Enid speaks softly, bringing a hand up to trail random patterns over Wednesday’s belly with her fingertips. “We know each other, and yet we don’t; but that’s alright, we just gotta see all the new pieces of each other, and figure out where our pieces fit together.”

Wednesday sighs softly, gingerly nudging Enid’s head with her chin as she puts an arm around the werewolf’s shoulders. “When did you become oh-so smart and wise?”

“Well, I didn’t have you around to be smart for me, so I learned how to read, the biggest mistake of my life since I’m a nerd now - just like you.” The witch chuckles, airy and raspy, and Enid melts hearing the sound of it. “You know, I could ask the same thing, don’t think I can’t see those romance books,” Enid teases, “when did you become a hopeless romantic?”

“I’m an Addams, I’ve always been a romantic, it just took until my teenage years to realize it.”

“You know, I like high Wednesday, sober you would never admit to something like this.”

Wednesday chuckles again, turning her head down to bury her face into Enid’s hair. “Not true, I’ve...I’ve learned to be more open, with my family...but how couldn’t I be the same with you? My...my best friend.”

“In the whole wide world?”

“In the whole wide world and beyond it.”

Enid laughs and sits up a little to catch Wednesday’s gaze, “see, this is how I know you’re high, you would never say something so mushy normally!”

Wednesday shrugs, smiling faintly at Enid’s beaming face. “Enid.”

“Yes?”

“...What the fuck happened to you getting me a glass of water? My mouth feels like it's stuffed full of cotton.”

“...I’ll be right back.”

Enid bounces off of the bed, grinning wide at Wednesday’s small grumbles of displeasure. She goes over to her desk and snatches up an empty water bottle before making haste over to the bathroom to fill it. She barely catches the creaking of bed springs as she turns on the sink. The werewolf listens closely, barely picking up the sounds of Wednesday’s footsteps, though they quickly go silent. Enid frowns, glancing at the doorway with a furrowed brow, but her confusion is replaced with a fuzzy warmth when music slowly fills the quiet night.

She finishes filling the bottle and comes skipping out of the bathroom, “who is this?”

“The Ballroom Thieves, this is their first album, A Wolf in the Doorway.”

Enid lets out a bark of a laugh as she joins Wednesday by the record player, “I wonder why you chose that one, huh?”

Wednesday smirks with a shrug of her shoulder before taking the offered water bottle, “only the moon shall know.”

“You’re such an asshole, you know that right?”

Wednesday practically gulps down half of the bottle; she sets it aside on the floor next to her armchair, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, and then suddenly - “will you dance with me?”

Enid blinks at the question, “Wenny, you really should go to-”

“Please?”

“...I’m pretty rusty.”

“I am too,” Wednesday holds out her hand, “we can relearn, together.”

Enid shakes her head, but she takes Wednesday’s hand nonetheless, “are you leading?”

Wednesday steps closer to the werewolf, “I...I can’t move like I used to, even now I’m very numb, I can barely feel my feet.”

“Wednesday!”

“But I wanna dance - I haven’t danced in years, Enid, and I’ve missed dancing...especially with you.”

“...Come here,” Enid whispers, pulling Wednesday in even closer, until they are chest to chest; Enid taps her foot against Wednesday’s. “Put your feet on mine - don’t give me that look,” Enid leans in and nuzzles Wednesday’s temple, “think of it as payment for the many times I’ve stepped on your toes while you taught me.”

Wednesday pulls away, but only for a moment, reaching for the needle of the record player and moving it further in on the record. Once she finds the song she’s looking for she quickly returns to Enid’s space; the witch carefully steps onto the werewolf’s feet, wrapping her arms around Enid’s neck. Enid smiles tenderly, placing her hands on Wednesday’s hips.

“Toothless and tired, my soul finds the door
To breath and to be nothing less, nothing more
Safe from disaster and spared by your love,
Settle down now, I think that’s enough
Settle down now, that’s surely enough”

“What song is this?” Enid asks, slowly moving through the steps of a simple sway.

“The Loneliness Waltz,” Wednesday muttered, ducking her head slightly to watch Enid lift and carry their feet.

“Clung to its sleeve, this old heart's fit to choke
Lest you light up my drink or you fill up my smoke
All the parents and the poets can cry in their graves
From the lack of the love you gave
From the lack of the love we gave”

“Kind of sad, but I’d expect nothing less from you,” Enid whispers, sliding her hands over Wednesday’s hips to rest on the small of her back.

Wednesday leans her head on Enid’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut, “I guess so...but I think it’s a little romantic...like dancing in the cold of December.”

“We are frivolous with our hearts
Watch them bend till they break,
Then we pick up the parts
Yeah, we give,
We take,
We save and condemn,
And we live just to love again.”

“Still so poetic even while inebriated.”

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Enid.”

“Shut up.”

The music slowly drifted out, leaving the last few lines sung only in silence; and the two kept gently swaying, absorbed by the peace they’ve found in each other.

“You're the rose
And the thorn
And you're safe
You're the rose
And the thorn
And you're safe
Yeah, you're the rose
And the thorn
And you're safe”

Chapter Text

Wednesday awoke with a haze to her mind and a desert in her mouth. A wheezing cough leaves her lungs, and Enid appears at her side in an instant. The werewolf helps her sit up without asking, Wednesday groans as she feels the pull of her spine, the muscles of her back spasming with pain. A familiar jar is thrown onto the covers before Thing climbs up and over the edge of the bed. The witch goes to speak, but a water bottle is held out in front of her face.

“Drink, and then take off your shirt,” Enid demands as she picks up the jar. “Thing told me that most mornings you have a numbing paste put on your back.”

Wednesday nods as she takes the bottle, taking slow sips as she watches Thing sign. “She offered to help, even though I told her I could handle it on my own...she also threatened to pour out my nail polish if I did not let her do it, I’m sorry, young master.”

Wednesday sets the bottle aside on her nightstand with a sigh, “how devilish of you, Enid, to use Thing’s vanity against him.”

“Thanks! But, if you’d prefer Thing’s help, I understand.”

“I will not let your efforts go to waste,” Wednesday throws off her weighted blanket, and then with a grunt of pain she takes off her tank top and throws it onto the ground.

Thing hops off the bed to clean up the piece of clothing while Enid sits down on the edge of the bed. The werewolf can’t help but take in every inch of bare skin, smooth and flawless and Enid ignores the itch to reach out and touch. Instead she watches as Wednesday flips over onto her stomach and reveals the notches of her spine. Enid moves to straddle Wednesday’s legs, unscrewing the lid of the jar - her nose wrinkling the moment the scent of the paste hits her nose.

“Ugh, I’ve forgotten how strong smells can be when it comes to you,” Enid grumbles, scoping out some of the sickly green paste with her first three fingers.

Wednesday wriggles a little underneath Enid, bringing her arms up to pillow her head as she glances back at the werewolf. “Apologies, if you need to air out the room, I encourage you to do so.”

“I wasn’t really complaining, Wenny, like it doesn’t smell bad per se just...stings my nose a bit.”

“Ah, that is probably the death’s touch and venom...make sure to wash your hands twice once you are finished.”

Enid frowns slightly, “shit, should I wear gloves?”

“A bit too late for that, Enid, simply do not get it into your eyes or mouth, it will numb your fingers for a few hours, but otherwise you are fine.”

Enid startles a bit when music rings out; Thing waves from beside the record player before he hops down and scuttles away, disappearing off to somewhere. The werewolf tilts her head, the voice of the man scratching at some part of her brain as familiar “who is this? I think I’ve heard Yoko listen to him before.”

Wednesday groans and turns her head to bury her face into her arms, “Bon Jovi, this is his New Jersey album, and...this song is called...Lay Your Hands On Me.”

Enid giggles, “wow, Thing sure knows how to set a mood, but I gotta say Wenny, your taste in music is wild now.”

“Blame that on my cousins - fuck!” Wednesday hisses, her head shooting up at the light touch on her lower back, but Enid quickly draws back.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

The witch sighs heavily, “No and yes, I always react...unpleasantly to the first few seconds, but do not mind my...foul tongue, I will relax into it, ” Wednesday is thankful that Enid can’t see the heat that burns her face.

“Oh, well that’s fine Wenny, I don’t mind, I was just worried I did something wrong.” Enid starts rubbing gentle circles into Wednesday’s lower back, and the witch lets out a breathless curse.

Just like she had said, after a few seconds Enid feels the tension in Wednesday’s back snap and the witch melts under the caring touch. Wednesday sighs, and groans, and mumbles curses; and Enid bites down on her tongue as she tries to focus on the music playing rather than the soft noises of pain and pleasure that leave Wednesday’s lips.

What the fuck is wrong me?! Enid snarls at herself.

“You can push a bit harder, Enid,” Wednesday rasps, “you are doing a marvelous job.”

Enid’s mind is wiped empty at the praise, her metaphorical tail wagging, “if you want I can just give you a massage.”

Wednesday hums quietly in thought, “it has been a while...and my neck is feeling a bit stiff...very well, but only if you are truly willing, I don’t wish to take up your morning.”

“I don’t mind at all, Wenny! Besides, I couldn’t imagine spending my morning in a better way!”

“Giving your best friend a back massage is your ideal morning?” Wednesday turns her head just enough to raise an eyebrow at Enid.

“...That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“If you say so, however before you start, could you change the record to something else, whatever catches your eye.”

Enid carefully removes herself off of Wednesday’s legs, “awesome, I’m dying to listen to more of your stuff, like really Wenny, I think you have a bigger collection than Yoko and she’s been around since the sixties!”

“I will admit, this is not my whole collection, only my favorites, and some of Thing’s favorites.”

Enid whips around with an unhinged jaw, “these are your favorites?! Wenny, there’s like more than fifty records!”

Wednesday shrugs her shoulders, tucking her head down to cover half of her face with her hair. “With the decay of my physical state I lost the ability to do many of my hobbies, including playing my cello...music had become less of a thing to play and enjoy in the background, but an escape.”

“You...you can’t play your cello?” Enid whispers in a strangled voice. She remembers the day when Wednesday first picked up the bow, the determination to master the instrument; Enid had spent countless hours listening to Wednesday practice, and heard the growth of her talent through the years. Now it was all gone, just like that. Enid wasn’t sure if the building tears were from sorrow, or frustrated fury for Wednesday’s unfair lot in life.

Wednesday’s soft voice breaks through the roaring beat of her heart in her ears. “I developed mild arthritis in my hands, most days it doesn’t bother me, but writing by hand, or playing my cello, makes them cramp up; it’s why I use a typewriter.”

“Oh Wenny-”

“I don’t need pity,” the witch growls - gently - a warning to how she feels upon the topic. “You must realize Enid, many of the things I tell you, I have long since come to accept, I do not need sympathy...Though, of course, I understand that hearing these things will make you emotional, I...I just ask that you do not feel sorry for me, I am not some abused puppy that you coo at in a sad voice.”

“...Sounds like you’ve had this problem in the past before.”

Wednesday sighs with a faint nod, “I love my mother dearly, but she was quite distraught during the first few months of my condition, she treated me as if I was made of glass and that just upsetted me more. For a time, my mother and I had a strained relationship until one day I had a...messy breakdown.”

Enid had moved over to Wednesday’s records at this point, and she looks back at the witch with a teasing smile, “lots of tears and smashed furniture?”

“I tore down the painting of great-grandfather Maxence Frump and threw it out a window.”

“Was he mad about that?”

Wednesday smiles slightly, “grandfather Max hated that painting, always said the painter used the wrong shade of red for his eyes; truthfully I agree, his new painting truly captures the dread his eyes can instill.”

Enid beams, searching through the records with tapping fingers, “I’m glad you were able to work it out with your mom.”

“I as well...Father does terribly to support me as well, but...it is different with mother, I cannot say why - just that it is.”

“Sometimes, things can’t be explained, it’s just a feeling,” Enid mutters, her tone light and distracted as she plucks out a vinyl. “Oh. My. Moon. Wenny, you gotta be kidding me!”

Wednesday sits up a little, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover of the record, “as I said, some of those are Thing’s favorites.”

“So you’re telling me Thing is a fan-” Enid twirls around and wiggling the vinyl as she holds it up, “-of Hayley Kiyoko?”

“...He could be.”

Enid snorts, turning back to the record player as she takes the vinyl out of its sleeve, “right, he’s totally a worshiper of lesbian Jesus herself.”

“How dare you imply I’d worship someone like her, I respect her as an artist and nothing more.”

Sugar at the bottom started to play; Enid quickly returned to the bed and took her place once more straddling Wednesday’s thighs and ass. “Do you have a type, Wenny?”

“No.”

“...Wednesday, come on, like what do you find attractive about a woman?”

“If she has the ability to kill a man.”

Enid sighs, she places her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders and leans down to speak close to the witch’s ear. “You really know how to suck out the fun from girl talk, Wenny.”

Wednesday lays there completely still, her shoulders hardening under Enid’s grip; for a moment the werewolf thinks she pissed Wednesday off, but then the witch spoke with a hesitant tone. “Truthfully...I am not too sure...women are devastating, creatures of untold horror hidden by masks of beauty, however I do not put much value into said beauty, not that I don’t appreciate it...I care more for a bleeding heart that paints an image of clear intention, a keen mind with even sharper teeth...and that she be obsessed with me, for I will only live for her, kill for her, die for her.”

“Wow...” Enid whispers, her heart fluttering, “you really are a hopeless romantic.”

“Get the fuck off me, I am done with you.”

Peals of laughter escape Enid; she drags her hands down Wednesday’s back, feeling every dip and curve, settling down on the lower back once more and Enid presses in with a mindful touch. “No can do, Wenny, I promised you a back massage and I shall make good on my word!”

The witch is hardly able to reply as Enid kneads her back, drawing out breathy groans from her. Wednesday surrenders to Enid’s hands, turning into putty as the werewolf’s fingertips work into her upper back. They lull into silence, letting the morning pass by slowly, caring for nothing outside of their space; needing - wanting only each other.

wolfspider: i think...i like girls???

carmilla’s gayer cousin: k

wolfspider: WTF YOKO IM KIND OF FREAKING OUT HERE

carmilla’s gayer cousin: oh shit this is news to u

wolfspider: WHAT

wolfspider: YOUR TELLING ME YOU KNEW????

carmilla’s gayer cousin: i mean it’s me i could smell the lesbianism on u the moment we met

carmilla’s gayer cousin: also the way u talk about ur bestie isnt very Heterosexual of u

wolfspider: omg pls dont say that rn TvT

carmilla’s gayer cousin: ah we love the classic “best friend being the sexual awakening” u want to come over and talk about it?

wolfspider: WHO SAID IT HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH WENNY??!!!

carmilla’s gayer cousin: my goddamn eyes and ears bitch u wanna tell me im wrong???

wolfspider: ........no

carmilla’s gayer cousin: thats what i thought now get ur rainbow loving ass over here so i can make fun of u and help u through ur gay panic

When you first hear about Wednesday Addams, you immediately make up your own image of her in your head. Horror stories (or fond childhood memories as Enid called them) painted her in hues of black and white, splattered with blood red. A witch of old, cackling with a bubbling caldron and a man’s heart filling her belly. She’s a classic nightmare given flesh, come to steal babies in the dead of the night and lay hexes upon people.

Nothing could prepare you for the truth of her.

Dark and cynical, a tongue sharper than any blade. A shadow given life, colors refusing to touch her other than the soft brown of her skin. An old soul filled with dead languages and centuries of knowledge. Surprisingly polite, until provoked.

Yoko was dying - again - to get the witch alone and pick at her brain.

Isn’t it delightful, how a rainbow drowned werewolf won’t stop following after a dark cloud. Yoko just knew the first time she ever heard about good ol’ Wenny, that Enid was hopelessly and madly in love. However, Enid is as dense as a brick, and even after realizing that Wednesday made her a little hot under the collar, she refused to entertain the idea of any possible romantic feelings.

“She’s my best friend, Yoko!”

“You just admitted to finding everything about her extremely sexy.”

“Well...have you seen her?! Besides, there’s nothing wrong with thinking your friends are attractive! That doesn’t mean I like her - romantically!”

She wanted to rip out her own fangs; Enid can be so frustrating sometimes. Thankfully she’s got the rest of eternity to watch these two idiots do their little song and dance. Though she hopes it doesn’t take them until they’re wrinkly and gray to finally confess.

Luckily, with Enid's newly discovered gayness, she has abandoned her role of personal guard dog and left Yoko’s target wide open. Wednesday sat alone, reading under the shade of an oak tree, her wheelchair set to the side just a foot away. Yoko pounced on this golden opportunity. Well, at least she tried to.

The moment she was within ten feet of the witch, she felt a tingling all over her body before she was launched backwards through the air. She quickly rights herself, landing on her feet and only stumbling a little; she huffs a bit, fixing her sunglasses and then her hair. Yoko points a glare toward Wednesday when her keen hearing picks up on the witch’s faint chuckle; Wednesday looks at the vampire from the corner of her eye, a cruel smirk curling the edge of her lips.

“That’s an impressive warding spell, Addams.”

Wednesday bows her head slightly in thanks, “how can I help you, Tanaka?” The witch picks up her cane, she moves the wolf head across the dirt, and a dome of shimmering light appears around the area for a split second, and then shatters without a sound. She gestures for Yoko to approach with a wave of the cane.

“Wow, not even an apology, or a thank you for the compliment?” Yoko grins as she approaches the witch.

Wednesday simply raises an eyebrow in reply as she sets her cane back down next to her leg. “If you are only here to waste my time, you may leave by your own will.”

“That,” Yoko drops down beside Wednesday, “is a very nice, subtle threat, and one that I don’t doubt you can cash in on, but I got bad news for you, Addams - there ain’t no getting rid of me, I’m the worst parasite you’ll ever meet.”

“Hm, truly devastating for me,” Wednesday mutters, her gaze solely focused on the book in her lap. “Very well, I will repeat my question from earlier, how can I help you, Tanaka?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to hangout with you.”

At that, Wednesday’s brow furrows faintly, and she turns her attention toward Yoko, “you wish to spend time with me?”

Yoko nods, her grin growing wider, showing off her fangs, “if you’re down to, Addams, Enid says you like music and I got a few records that we can rock to.”

Wednesday stares hard at the vampire for a minute in silence, and then she snaps her book close and grabs her cane. “I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s what I love to hear,” Yoko cackles as she hops to her feet. “Do you want to grab anything before we head back to the dorms? Unless you enjoy negative AB or raw fish, then I got plenty of snacks back at my place.”

The witch grunts as she stands up, leaning somewhat heavily on her cane, “I have a few things I want to grab from my room.” Wednesday hobbles over to her wheelchair, she settles down with a sigh as she stores her cane in its holder; she unlocks the break and doesn’t wait for Yoko as she starts to head off toward the dormitory.

Yoko easily catches up and walks beside Wednesday, her toothy grin never leaving her face. She hadn’t expected Wednesday to agree so quickly to hanging out, but that just proved she didn’t really know the witch despite the endless stories that Enid loves to share. The vampire was excited to learn her own version of Wednesday Addams.

They traveled in silence, which honestly Yoko can appreciate; she loves to talk and gossip, but sometimes it’s nice to just spend time with someone knowing you don’t have to fill the quiet. She also loves the way a crowd avoids the rolling storm cloud; groups of students practically diving out of their way as they stroll to Ophelia Hall.

Yoko lets out a low whistle as she watches a guy stumble backwards into a trashcan, knocking both it and him over, and just to get out of Wednesday’s path. “Damn Addams, it hasn’t even been half a week and people treat you like a plague.”

“They aren’t wrong for doing so, I am an Addams after-all, I believe most people are allergic to us.”

Yoko laughs - cackling like a hyena - and it causes an even wider split of the sea. “Oh, you are funny! Enid is never gonna get you back.”

Wednesday huffs softly through her nose, “she’d kill you before you even had a chance at monopolizing my time.” The witch spares a glance toward the vampire, “you are...odd, I see why Enid has chosen you as a friend.”

“Oh yeah, we kind of latched onto each other the moment we met,” Yoko lets out a sigh full of fondness.

“Hm, tell me, how did that first meeting go about?”

“Enid heard me laugh,” Yoko said, her smile dimming down into a tender smile. “Most people find it unsettling, but this color-drenched werewolf literally sought me out because she loved the sound of it so much; it threw me for a loop, so I told her straight to her face that she was weird, and you know what she said?”

“She thanked you.”

Yoko throws her head back with a cackle, “oh that’s so fucking cute! You two know each other so well, it’s disgusting.”

Wednesday shrugs her shoulders, “I believe it is a mannerism she picked up from my family and I.” She falls quiet for a moment as they finally reach Ophelia Hall and head inside; she heads over to the elevator, but stops when she notices Yoko moving toward the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“Uh, up to my room? Why are - oh! You letting me ride with you?” Yoko steps back to Wednesday’s side.

“Obviously.”

Yoko eagerly hops into the elevator once the door slides open; Wednesday huffs lightly as she moves in, twists around her wheelchair, and then presses the button for her room. Yoko leans her hip against the witch’s chair, humming softly as they’re lifted up to the tower. When the elevator dings and the door slides open once again, Wednesday quickly rolls forward and out of the elevator; she smirks slightly hearing Yoko yelp and a few stumbling footsteps.

“Uncool Addams!” Yoko snarls as she stomps after the witch.

Wednesday reaches into her pocket and pulls out her key, she unlocks the door, but she pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “...We are not going to your room.”

“Huh? You don’t want to hangout anymore?”

“That’s not what I said,” Wednesday pushes the door open and rolls inside, “we are simply not going to your room.”

Yoko hesitates for a few seconds before slowly following Wednesday into the room; she immediately focuses on the right side of the room, having seen Enid’s side a thousand times already. The vampire laughs the moment her gaze lands on the Orville Peck poster, and then her laugh turns into a gasp seeing the collection of vinyl records. She walks over to them in a daze, her eyes rapidly scanning over them and trying to count them.

Wednesday parks her wheelchair near her bed, pulling out her cane as she rises up. “You may pick any one, if you want to go grab your own I encourage you to do so before you get too comfortable,” she said as she hobbled over to the plush armchair next to the record player; she dropped down into it with a loud sigh.

Yoko nods, “good idea, I’m gonna need a few snacks; what about you? Do you want me to grab you any-WHOA!”

A severed hand scuttles quickly past Yoko’s foot; it tosses a leather pouch up onto Wednesday’s lap before climbing up onto the armrest of the armchair. “No, but I appreciate the thought; this is Thing, a loyal companion and servant of mine.”

The vampire crouches down somewhat in front of Thing, lowering her sunglasses a bit. “Holy shit, I didn’t know you practiced necromancy.”

“I don’t. Thing has been a servant of my family for generations, he is one of the great mysteries of the Addams.”

“Sick,” Yoko holds out a fist to Thing, the severed hand sits up on the stump of his wrist and knocks his knuckles against hers. “I bet he is great at parties.”

Wednesday smirks a little as she picks up Thing and places him on her shoulder. “Indeed, he is...what was it that Cousin Itt called you on Pubert's birthday?”

“A party animal,” Thing excitedly taps on her shoulder, “are we having one right now?”

The witch shakes her head, “no, we are simply making...friends, with Tanaka.”

Thing bounces up and down, “how utterly dreadful! I will get the champagne!”

Wednesday quickly catches Thing before he can jump off of her shoulder, “this isn’t a celebration, Thing, you sound like my father.”

“Hey, sorry to cut in,” Yoko speaks up, drawing both Addams’ attention, “but I have no clue what the little guy is saying.”

Thing slumps in Wednesday’s hands, and the witch sighs as she settles him down on her lap. “I am not surprised, he’s delighted to meet you, Yoko.” Thing rolls around on her lap, she narrows her eyes and jabs her finger harshly into the middle of his palm, “stop your bellyaching.”

Yoko holds down her laughter with an ugly snort, “you keep getting better and better, but alright! I’m gonna grab a few records and then we’re gonna rock this place!”

Enid sighs as she climbs up the flights of stairs to the fourth floor of Ophelia Hall. The day has been exhausting; emotionally and mentally draining as she runs circles in her own mind trying to understand this newly discovered aspect of herself. She thought herself to be somewhere on the asexual and aromantic spectrum, no one has ever sparked an interest in her; not to say she didn’t find some people attractive, but no crush ever blossomed. It had seemed like friendships were the only thing she cared about.

Then Wednesday Addams came back into her life, turning everything upside down for her once more.

It made sense though. Boys were nice, they could be sweet and cute, like Ajax, but most of the time Enid found herself simply frustrated with them, or they were totally boring. Girls on the other hand...Enid flushes a bit, remembering how she obsessed over Elvira and Lydia Deetz during her time out in California; she definitely has a type. Even Yoko got a few lingering looks from the werewolf - her gothic style was different from Wednesday’s, but she was just as butch and handsome and weird.

Enid stops, turns toward a wall, and she slams her head a few times against it. She had a type, and it was her childhood friend.

Though, could she be at fault for that? Of course she was into women who were like Wednesday; Wenny is wonderful, pretty much perfect in every way, anyone would want to date someone like her Wenny. Enid straightens up, nodding a few times at her thoughts, and then she keeps on heading down the hall. Maybe she’ll give dating a try, once she settles more into this new mindset.

She frowns as her foot hits the bottom stair leading up to the tower. A faint vibration echoed through the wood, muffled music reaching her keen ears. The werewolf tilts her head, puzzled as Wednesday had said she would be out for most of the day. She takes the steps two at a time, the music growing louder and clearer, and with it two voices and the thumping of people jumping wildly.

“And I want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony - come on Addams! Sing it!”

Enid’s jaw drops, her eyes blinking rapidly hearing the scream singing of Yoko, and not only that, but her cheering on Wednesday to sing along as well. She scoffs, cause there’s no way, this is her Wenny, and Wednesday doesn’t sing-

“Smell that, it’s wet grass, and smoke in my hair, I think I’ve had enough, but he wants a finale and I came prepared!”

Except she does. Perfect pitch and on key despite her yelling the lyrics at the top of her lungs - breathless and uncaring. Enid gasps, feeling like she had been punched over and over again in the chest with how much it aches from the racing of her heart.

She clumsily climbs the last of the steps, partially shoulder tackling the door with her stumbling footsteps. The werewolf fumbles with the door a bit, swinging it open fast, and she winces when it hits and bounces off the inner wall with a loud bang.

Wednesday’s head whips around, hair long and flowing and messy, her bangs slightly clinging to her sweaty forehead. She trips over her foot in surprise, tilting dangerously to the side, but before she could fall she is caught by a pair of hands; Yoko’s hyena-like laugh cutting through the music. The witch is drawn in, Yoko wrapping up the smaller woman in her arms, sunglasses long gone to reveal her mirth filled red eyes.

“Careful there Weds! Wouldn’t want to see that pretty little head cracked open, though I’ve been dying to take a sip of your blood,” Yoko said with a grin, pulling Wednesday even closer and snapping her sharp fangs a few centimeters from Wednesday’s face.

The witch rolls her eyes, she presses her hand against Yoko’s cheek and pushes the vampire away. “If you did, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Wednesday tries to escape from Yoko’s space, only to get swept and lifted off of her feet, being swung and carried around by the vampire in a ridiculous waltz. Yoko throws a wink in Enid’s direction, “hey there pup, how was your afternoon?”

“Wh-what is going on?” Enid croaks out, her eyes not believing the sight before her.

Wednesday punches Yoko right in the throat, and the vampire drops her with a choked gasp. Wednesday walks over to the desk, Enid finally notices the laptop that’s been set up with a speaker attached to it. “Yoko wanted to hangout and listen to some music with me,” the witch pauses the music, a deafening quietness taking over the room.

Yoko rubs her throat with a faint pinched to her brow, “I have shown her the wonders of Spotify and speakers.”

“Records are still better,” Wednesday said, crossing her arms as she leans back against her desk, “while I appreciate the availability, nothing beats a record, or hearing it live.”

“By the gods, you sound older than me, Weds,” Yoko cackles.

Enid feels an acidic burn bubbling in her chest, rising up in the back of her throat. “W-We-Weds?”

The creases in Yoko’s brow deepens as she glances over at Enid again, this time in confusion. “Uh, yeah? She hasn’t stabbed me with a stake yet, so I figured I’ve earned the honor of using a nickname with her.”

“Just barely,” the witch grumbles, and then she hisses softly as her hands drop down to cradle her lower back.

“Ah, shit,” Yoko quickly goes over to Wednesday, “sorry Weds, was I being too rough?”

“Perhaps, but at least you weren’t treating me like glass,” Wednesday mutters. Yoko guides the witch over to her armchair, and Wednesday eases down into it with a heavy sigh of relief.

The vampire smiles - actually smiles, soft with care - as she plops down onto the armrest and starts gathering up Wednesday’s long hair. “I’m not looking to die just yet, I still got a few centuries in me.”

Enid closes the door before marching forward, her smile tight as she points a hard stare at Yoko’s hands, that burning growing stronger as she watches the gentle way Yoko starts braiding Wednesday’s hair. “You guys have become...fast friends.”

Wednesday hums lightly, not noticing the stiffness of Enid’s expression with her eyes closed, “she is acceptable; she is not squeamish about gruesome topics, her knowledge in the occult is vast, and her taste in music is decent.”

“Glad I got the stamp of approval...I’m sure some people will be really jealous,” Yoko gives Enid a pointed stare as she says this.

The werewolf flushes, ducking her head, she twists around on her heel and rushes over to her side of the room. Yoko shakes her head, a fond smile crawling across her lips, “so Weds, Enid has told me a lot of childhood stories about you two, you got any you want to share with the class?”

Wednesday peeks an eye open, “hm...has she ever told you about the time we got married?”

“Married? What, like those little pretend weddings kids do? That’s so cute!”

“Oh my moon,” Enid groans, “not that one!”

Yoko cackles, “you gotta share now, Weds, sounds like Enid embarrassed herself!”

“I suppose you could say that...”

“I can’t go, Thing! I’ve ruined everything!”

Wednesday follows Enid’s loud wails of distress and despair with a hurried gait; the long coattails of her suit jacket fluttering behind her. She quickly finds the young werewolf tucked away in a familiar grove of nightshades and gnarled old oak trees; a head of blond hair poking out from the exposed roots of the largest oak within the grove. She approaches carefully and speaks in a gentle tone.

“Enid? What’s the matter?”

Enid gasps, she tries to burrow further under the roots, but stills as something blocks her movement from below and out of sight. “Thing! You traitor!”

Wednesday closes the distance, placing the tips of her fingers on Enid’s shoulder, “Enid, please, what happened? Why did you disappear so suddenly? The ceremony is to happen soon.”

The little werewolf whimpers, turning her head up to reveal her watery eyes and the tears that stain her round cheeks. She scurries out from the roots, and Wednesday sees now why Enid had been hiding. The front of her pretty, white sundress is caked in dried mud, the hem slightly torn and dirtied.

“I-I was playing tag with your Cousin Apollo while we waited for everything to be done, an-and my dress got stuck on something, I think some thorns, and I lost my balance and fell and got my dress dirty and I ruined everything!”

Enid breaks down into sobs toward the end. Wednesday tenses up, her eyes wildly searching around for Thing to help, but the severed hand doesn’t show his fingertips. The little witch inhales deeply, and with stiff and robotic movements, she takes a step forward and pulls Enid into an awkward hug. The little werewolf instantly goes quiet.

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

“But-”

Wednesday tightens her hold, “I will strangle you if you keep on with this pathetic display...you have done nothing wrong, Enid.”

Enid sniffles softly, wrapping her arms around Wednesday’s waist and burying her face into the crook of her neck. “Thank you, Wenny, I’m sorry I ran off.”

“It’s fine...but Enid?”

“Yeah?”

“You do realize you could have just gone to my mother to fix your dress, we are witches, Enid.”

“...Oh...”

Yoko cackles as she dodges stuffed animals, “how did you forget they were witches?!”

“I WAS LITERALLY SEVEN!”

Wednesday simply watches the scene while Thing cheers on Enid. “To be fair,” the witch drawls, “Enid was even more of an emotional mess when we were children.”

“WEDNESDAY!” Enid stomps her foot, “you’re lucky I don’t attack you too for this!”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, and she holds out her arms wide, “I invite you to draw my blood.”

“No, that’s what you want, and this is supposed to be a punishment,” Enid said with a pout, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Yoko grins, her laughter calming down as she creeps over to Wednesday’s bed, “here Enid, as an apology, I’ll help you get back at Weds.”

Wednesday sits up, her eyes slowly widening, “what are you doing - NO!”

Yoko digs through the many pillows on the witch’s bed, and lets out a laugh of success as she whips around with her prize in hand; Enid gasps seeing the old, wolf plushie in the vampire’s grasp. “I saw its butt sticking out from under the pillows,” Yoko flashes Wednesday a toothy smirk, “who knew that you’d sleep with a wolf, oh wait, that’s not really-”

Wednesday rose up fast from the armchair, sending Thing flying from her lap. She stumbles a bit on her feet, but catches her balance and quickly limps toward Yoko. The vampire yelps and cowers, holding the wolf plushie against her chest, as Wednesday starts throwing fists against her arm.

“Shut your damn mouth, and give him over!”

Yoko chuckles and does as Wednesday said, quickly shoving the stuffed animal into the witch’s arms. Wednesday glares at the vampire, wrapping her arms protectively around the old wolf.

“You...you still have him?” Enid speaks up weakly, her voice wobbling.

Wednesday glances over her shoulder at Enid, a faint redness to her cheeks, “I...yes, of course, I...I don’t really want to talk about this while this troublemaker is here,” the witch turns a glare back onto Yoko.

Yoko simply grins as she holds up her hands, “I don’t blame you, and with that being said,” she starts walking backwards toward the door, “I’ll leave you two to chit chat about your mushy feelings!”

“I’m going to throw your laptop off the balcony,” Wednesday hisses.

“Do that, and I’ll break your brittle spine,” Yoko throws up a peace sign; she opens the door and does a little bow in the doorway, “I expect my things back in my room by the end of the day.”

“Go look at the sun, you parasite.”

Yoko sighs fondly, she looks to Enid with a wide smile, “pup, I might have to steal her from you, I love her so much.”

Enid growls quietly, “I’ll make you eat garlic.”

“And with that, I leave center stage,” Yoko steps back and slams the door shut.

Silence fills the room, as Wednesday stands there - worrying one of Beowulf’s ears - swaying on her feet. Enid slowly walks over to the witch, she gathers Wednesday up into a gentle hold, bringing a hand down to lay atop Beowulf’s head.

“You really kept him,” the werewolf whispers, a warm smile on her face.

“I...I have everything in there,” Wednesday said, nodding her chin to the oak chest at the foot of her bed.

Enid lights up, her eyes glowing with glee, she gingerly nudges Wednesday to sit before going over to the chest. She kneels down and opens the lid, a bit surprised that it wasn’t locked, but her surprise quickly turns to shock seeing every little object she has ever given Wednesday. She squeals upon seeing the small, pink photo album and snatches it up excitedly, opening and flipping through it.

“Oh my goddess, these are so bad!” Enid giggles, pausing on one polaroid of Wednesday, the shot blurry and half of the little girl blended into the darkness of the flash; the werewolf traces the edges of the photo, her smile crumbling slightly. “I wish I still had that old camera, it was my favorite thing in the whole world.”

“I have been meaning to ask...if you do not mind talking about it, but...what happened, Enid? Why didn’t you call, or send letters?”

Enid sighs heavily, turning to the next sleeve of photos, her smile melting away into a faint frown. “Mom, she...she was determined to get me away from your whole family, but more importantly...you; she thinks you are the reason I can’t shift.”

Wednesday stands up from her bed and goes over to Enid, she puts an arm around the werewolf’s shoulders as she slowly drops to her knees, looking over the photos with the blonde. “I am surprised she was even able to do so.”

Enid snorts softly, her frown breaking into a weak smile, “oh trust me, she almost died over it, took a few bites from Nessie, she’s lucky werewolves are hard to kill...but she broke my phone, and I believe all the letters I tried to sent to you never even made it to the mailman, probably ended up in a fire or something.”

“Enid...”

The werewolf closes the photo album, setting it carefully back into the chest, before twisting in Wednesday’s loose hold to face the witch. There’s a sheen to her turquoise blue eyes, but no tears fall as she takes Wednesday’s hand into hers, “I still wrote to you though, I just saved them in hopes that one day I got the chance to send them to you.”

Wednesday blinks rapidly, feeling a burning behind her own eyes, “you...you have them?”

Enid nods once, she leans into Wednesday, resting her chin on the witch’s shoulder, “all of them, they’re yours if you want them.”

“Of course I want them,” Wednesday puts her other arm around Enid’s waist, pulling the werewolf into a tender hug. “Anything you wish to give me, I will always joyously accept, you know this.”

“I can’t believe you kept all that stuff,” Enid said, a shuttering laugh escaping her hoarse throat.

Wednesday pulls away, but only to reach up and cradle Enid’s face between her calloused palms, “I care not if they are silly things of broken glass and rocks and awful photos, they are precious to me, because they are from you, Enid.”

“Wenny! Stop, you’re gonna make me cry!” Enid whines, a few tears catching on her lashes before trailing down her cheeks.

Wednesday quickly swipes those tears away with her thumbs, a warm smile dimpling her cheeks as she chuckles, “apologies, I will make it up to you.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“By doing whatever you want to do.”

Enid perks up with a bright smile, “I’m gonna make you regret those words, Wenny.”

“Impossible, I enjoy your company far too much to regret spending it with you.”

“Wenny!” Enid throws her arms around Wednesday, knocking the witch and herself over with her rushed movements and unchecked strength.

Pain shoots throughout her whole body, but Wednesday bites down on her bottom lip to hold back any complaint of agony. She wraps her arms around Enid, squeezing tight and soaking up the warmth that radiates from the werewolf, her eyes fluttering shut as the heat settles in her body and soothes the aches in her bones.

Chapter Text

It’s the first day of school, and Wednesday wakes up with a stiff back and neck. Her legs tingle with jabbing pins and needles, her knees creaking as she shifts and bends them to see her range of mobility. The witch grunts with the effort to sit up and move to the edge of her bed; she can already tell the pain will get worse throughout the day. Just as her toes touch the floor, Enid springs up in bed.

“Morning, Wenny! Excited for the first day of classes?” Enid beams, shining like the sun, as she throws back her blanket and hops out of bed.

“Ecstatic.”

“That’s the spirit!” Enid bounds over to the shelves of records, humming a merry tune as she searches through them. “Thing, we need something good to start off the school year, something...loud, energizing...”

“Something that’ll make me not want to commit manslaughter,” Wednesday grumbles as she stands up and hobbles toward her closet.

“That too!” Enid giggles, her smile somehow getting brighter as Thing scuttles over to help her in her search. “Any preferences Wenny? Or can I go crazy?”

Wednesday pauses in the doorway of her closet, hand placed on the frame to support her weight momentarily, “allow me to pick, I am in a certain...mood.” She turns around and slowly limps over, wincing slightly as the tingling in her legs turn to jolts that rattle her hips and lower back. When she reaches Enid she doesn’t hesitate to place an arm around the werewolf’s solid shoulders, fully leaning her body into Enid’s.

Enid wraps an arm around her middle, her hand resting over Wednesday’s ribs and just barely touching the curve of her breast. “You okay, Wenny?”

“I am in the mood to burn down this entire campus.”

“Can I help?”

Wednesday inhales deeply, her eyes sliding close, “...do not tempt me, Enid.”

With their sides pressed together, the witch can feel the vibrations of the werewolf’s laugh, stirring up a hurricane of bats in her belly. “Alright, what are we looking for?” Enid asks, leaning in and brushing her nose along Wednesday’s jawline.

Wednesday sighs as she peeks an eye open, “well, it shouldn’t be depressing, so that takes out most of my collection-”

“Wednesday,” Enid snarls softly.

“Someone doesn’t like jokes,” Wednesday mumbles; she lets go of Enid and kneels down with a quiet groan, giving a more thorough look at her records. “Truthfully I do not wish to bring down your good humor with my usual selection.”

The werewolf sighs, but a warm smile takes over her face, “Wednesday, put on whatever you want, I really like listening to your music.”

“...Alright.”

Wednesday plucks out Joji’s Nectar album, puts on the record, and walks back toward her closet as the first song starts to play. She hums almost silently along, swaying on unsteady feet as she nods her head, slowly stripping and redressing to drag out her time within the room as much as she could. Even then, with her simple style of clothing, she’s stepping over to her wheelchair by the time Tick Tock starts to play.

To say she was apprehensive is perhaps an understatement. She’s been homeschooled most of her life, taught countless subjects by an endless number of family members; her time in public education only lasted three weeks, it had been a mistake to send a witch to a human high school. The only reason the boy is alive is because there was no reason for him to know - to fear laying his hand upon a Maiden.

Though, Grandmama still mutters in displeasure that they should have at least taken a kidney.

Wednesday didn’t want a repeat of that, not now that Enid was here - so beautifully real and warm like those yearned for summer days. She doesn’t think her heart could take another attack like when she was twelve, just realizing what her feelings were for her childhood friend now that she was gone.

The witch perks up slightly as Daylight comes on, and she can’t help but hum along. Can’t help the way her eyes flutter shut, body heavy with suffering, soul brimming with dark clouds and rain.

“Wide awake, gettin’ half-past zero, it’s gettin’ heated so I leave the windows open,” her voice is a low rasp, pulled deep from her chest with glass-cleared agony; and yet, she sings with a faded curl to her lips. “Preoccupied with the late night B-roll, right now laying here alone is Heaven!”

By the stars, how she wishes she could lay out in bed right now, with a joint in hand and listen to her records all day, sing until her voice was raw and bloody. She couldn’t - can’t - spend her days like that forever though, stuck in a bottomless pit of longing and despair.

“And I’ve been a hero, helpless, I’m in Hell!”

And isn’t that the truth. She had felt so powerful as a child, unstoppable; then like most children, she was greeted to reality - in the worst way possible. Helpless - helpless, helpless, helpless. That word dissolved through her like acid, leaving her heart aflame and bile burning the back of her throat.

“And I’ve cried up and down in these hallways, blamed myself!”

A soft sniffle stills the next words in her throat, but the record keeps on.

“Bad luck, I don’t wanna be home at midnight
Sun’s up, I don’t really wanna fight the daylight
I don’t care if you moved on
I’m not layin’ in bed with a fucked up head”

Wednesday slowly opens her eyes, and sighs upon seeing Enid standing right in front of her, turquoise blue eyes watery with unshed tears. “I told you it would be depress-OOF!”

The werewolf launches herself at Wednesday; luckily the witch hadn’t moved herself far from the wall, the handles of the wheelchair thumping against said wall as the force of Enid caused them to move back a few inches. Enid buries her face into Wednesday’s neck, hands resting against Wednesday’s sternum as she leans into the witch’s front, her knees hitting the floor. Surprisingly, she doesn’t cry, just breathes heavily against Wednesday’s skin.

Then she speaks, awestruck and weak, “are you sure you’re not a siren, Wenny? Cause your voice is magical.”

Wednesday huffs hard through her nose, her heart stuttering in its cage, “I am sure there was a sea hag or three in my family, but no...and thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Enid pulls away slightly, a bashful smile making the pink of her cheeks stand out, “I-I really like hearing you sing...”

“If you wish, I can sing more, for you.”

“Really?! Even if I want nothing but cheesy love songs?”

“...I will sing you to sleep with the most horrendous serenades of romance, for you, and only you.”

Enid squeals and she wraps her arms tight around Wednesday’s waist, “I’m gonna make a list!”

Wednesday rolls her eyes as she places her arms around Enid’s shoulders, “you will not, I’m picking the songs.”

“But Wenny!”

“I will not put myself through the torture that you call music, I still get migraines just remembering the few songs you shared with me as a child.”

“Fuck you! I know you have a few pop albums in that collection, don’t think I didn’t see them!”

Wednesday smirks slightly, her fingers playing with the ends of Enid’s hair, “I do, but that is torment I have chosen for myself, now get off of me, I refuse to be late to classes on the first day.”

Enid whines, but nonetheless does as Wednesday says and pops up onto her feet, “I don’t have classes until ten, is it okay if I listen to some more of your records?”

The witch frowns faintly, looking up at Enid with narrowed eyes, “why are you up so early if your classes aren’t until then?”

“Oh...uh...” a dark flush overtakes Enid’s face, “I-I heard you get up...”

“...And?”

“That...that’s it.”

Wednesday’s face remains blank, but Enid can hear the soft and sudden inhale of air at her words. “If you are going to do this, you might as well join me for breakfast before we part for the day.”

Enid beams, she rushes over and takes the needle off the record before slipping the vinyl back into its sleeve. “Let’s go! Oh - but where’s Thing?”

The witch points, the werewolf following the gesture and sees the severed hand waiting patiently atop a black backpack by the foot of Wednesday’s bed. “He was kind enough to get my supplies ready while we talked.”

He excitedly bops up and down on his fingertips, rapidly signing as Wednesday rolls over to him and blocks Enid’s view of him. “I will do any task if it means you have more time with your beloved-”

Wednesday snatches up Thing with a quiet hiss, “keep your fingers still, I am not above hiding away your beauty products.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me,” Wednesday states plainly, and then drops Thing onto her lap. She grabs her backpack and lifts it up, tossing it around one of the handles of her wheelchair, she quickly picks up her cane as well and places it within its holder. “Come Enid, I’m going to need at least three espressos and a good reason not to maim someone.”

“If you maim someone you’ll have to deal with the cops.”

“Ah, fair point Enid, I hate having to speak with human law enforcers, especially on a Monday.”

Enid smiles widely, “didn’t you feed a cop to Cleopatra one time?”

“She loves the taste of pork.”

The sound of Enid’s laughter lights up the witch’s nerve endings.

Parting from Enid was like pulling teeth, except they were her own, and not as fun as the time she had ripped out her baby fangs. The werewolf seemingly agreed since she had entrapped Wednesday in a ten-minute long hug, only letting go when Wednesday gently demanded it of her. Wednesday rolled into the classroom with a tense jaw, which only tightened seeing the lab tables in the room were clearly meant to be shared. She immediately headed for a table at the front, figuring - hoping - whoever sat beside her was someone more concerned about learning than making friends.

There were already a few other students inside, milling about tables in small clusters; Wednesday can feel their stares burn into her back as she comes to a stop at the table nearest the door. The witch puts down the breaks, ignoring the way the room lowered into hush whispers as she grabs her cane and pushes herself up onto her shaking feet. She lets out a soundless sigh as she takes her seat, sparing a glance at the underside of her wheelchair where she barely catches sight of Thing’s fingertips poking out from the little pocket sewn there. The severed hand raises his pinky in questioned worry, and she rolls her eyes, tapping the end of her cane against the floor twice to sooth his unease.

Using the head of her cane, Wednesday hooks it under the strap of her bookbag and flings it down by her feet. The leisure wave of her fingers has it opening on its own, books lifting up into the air to come to a rest atop the table. The weight of eyes grows heavier at the casual display of magic.

“She’s the Maiden of the Addams Coven? I expected someone more...elegant.”

“Are you joking? They’re witches of old, nothing but savages pretty much.”

“I thought they were powerful, but it seems magic can’t fix everything.”

“Dude...”

“What?! We were all thinking about it!”

“Hey Wednesday, mind if I sit with you?”

The witch’s head snaps up at the voice, her eyes widening the tiniest bit seeing a familiar siren standing in front of her chosen table. “Oh, yes, Divina, correct? One of Enid’s friends.”

Divina smiles - tight-lipped but warm - as she nods her head, “Divina Day, and this class isn’t full, so if you want the table to yourself-”

“No, you can sit, I don’t mind,” Wednesday gestures to the open seat before crossing her arms and resting them on the tabletop. Her spine giving in to its natural curve and caving inward, dragging another mute huff of air from her lungs.

Divina rounds the table, taking the stool beside Wednesday with a sympathetic smile, “yeah I can’t imagine this is good for your back, I’m sure if you ask Professor Allistair, you could get a personal chair in here.”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, keeping her stare directed at the surface of the table. “I hardly care, and I don’t want special treatment.”

“O-oh...right...sorry...”

“Don’t be, it’s not like you really know me.”

The silence that descended upon them is awkward; Wednesday debated the pros and cons of bludgeoning herself with her own cane, but one flash of Enid’s smile in her head stills her hand. She simply looks to Thing with something akin to pleading in her eyes, which is quickly doused out by Thing wriggling further back into his little pocket and disappearing from sight. Divina clearing her throat draws the witch’s attention back to the siren.

“So...you like alchemy?”

Wednesday cocks an eyebrow at the weak attempt at small talk, but she can’t fault the try. “I’m taking this class, am I not?”

“Well, yeah, but...what do you enjoy about it?” Divina turns a bit in her seat, a sharp spark to her neon eyes, hungering for answers.

It seems Wednesday would get her wish of an intellectual partner, but not a quiet one; however, it is good to know Enid kept company with actual brain cells. “Hm, I relish in the challenge of it, as a witch my magic doesn’t have the strongest hold over it, though I am sure you are already aware of that.”

Divina nods, “I was surprised when Enid told me you were taking this as a major.”

“I am sure, however, I have been studying alchemy since I was six years old, my father is rather proficient, actually-” Wednesday picked up her cane and laid it out on the table. She ran her finger over the shaft, pointing out each different rune that’s been carved into the stained, aspen wood. “An example of his work, this rune right here is the first he carved - strength, changing the very structure of the wood to be as strong as steel.”

“Oh wow,” Divina breathes out, she hovers a hand over the cane, “can I?”

Wednesday gestures her consent, “you are Enid’s friend, and Yoko’s girlfriend, I believe there is no reason for me not to trust you...Though, that does remind me that there is a rune of repel on there.”

“Really?! What for?” Divina asks as she takes the cane in hand, carefully twisting it to examine each rune as closely as she can.

“Take a wild guess,” the witch drawls, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand.

“There...there’s also a rune of...return?”

Wednesday takes the cane out of Divina’s hands, and without warning, throws it across the room. The siren squeaks, and a few of their classmates shriek and dive out of the way of the flying object. However, before it could hit anyone or anything, Wednesday snaps her fingers twice; the cane blinks out of sight and reappears in Wednesday’s hand.

“Indeed, a rune of returning, in case I ever lose it,” Wednesday places the cane back down.

Divina stares at the piece of wood with pure awe, “by the seas, and I thought Professor Allistair had some impressive alchemy work, does your dad do this for a job?”

“No, he doesn’t work.”

“Like...at all?”

Wednesday shrugs her shoulders, “I have never asked.”

“You never...you know what, I don’t need to know,” Divina holds up her hands in a surrendering motion, but then perks up when a tall figure steps into the room.

A very tall figure, draped in a long coat of black that swallowed up the build of their body.

Wednesday’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of an actual summer elf walking into the room, standing at the average height of a little over seven feet tall, with arms and legs seemingly a bit too long. Their skin was a shade or two off from being gold, silver-blonde hair just brushing against the tops of their shoulders, and their eyes - thin slit pupils drowned in icy blue-almost white irises, brass-colored bruises hanging heavy under their eyes. Dozens of silver piercings decorated their face, blue crystals dangling from the few chains that connected some piercings on their ears. They give a warm smile to the class as they come to stand in front of the blackboard.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome back, I’m glad to see many familiar faces have returned and...a new face among you,” the elf said, their eyes landing onto Wednesday. “Hello, Maiden Wednesday Friday Addams, it’s a true honor to have you in my class, I’m Professor Allistair Zelan.”

Wednesday perks up at the surname, recognizing it from a few of Grandmama’s stories of when she visited the Realm of the Fae. “You as well, Professor Zelan.”

“Please, I prefer Allistair,” they said with a small smile, the barest hint of a sharp fang poking out from under their upper lip. “Now then, everyone please take your seat, and choose wisely, whoever you sit next to will be your partner in alchemy and potions for the rest of the school year.”

“Oh...shit,” Divina hisses under her breath, a wince on her face as she glances at Wednesday. “I’m so sorry, I forgot, I can go sit-”

“Once again, you’re fine,” Wednesday said dismissively, returning her cane to the side of the table. She sits up straight as best as she could in the stool, gritting her teeth at the agonizing pull of her nerves and muscle along her spine. “If I must suffer company, at least let it be someone smart, I’d hate to be kicked out of class for first degree murder of a useless lab partner - that’d be disappointing.”

Divina flushes, but actually grins a bit, flashing teeth that belonged to a carnivore. “You know, I totally get it now.”

Wednesday tilts her head slightly, “get what?”

“Why Enid is so crazy about you, and why Yoko loved hanging out with you.”

“Perhaps because I bewitched them.”

Divina laughs - melodious and coming in gentle waves, “I know a charming curse when I see one, Wednesday.”

The witch cracks a small smile, folding her forearms atop the table and leaning on them. “Ah yes, how foolish of me to think I could outdo a siren.”

“But you are charming, in your own unique way of pointed edges and dark hues, apply it just right and you could have so many people wrapped around your little finger...Though I can tell that’s something you don’t care about.”

Wednesday shrugs a shoulder, “I have found that if the person can’t handle talk of bloodshed, then they are not worth my time.”

“Well lucky for you, there’s a number of blood mages who study here.”

“Lucky me indeed.”

The two fell silent as Professor Allistair called for everyone’s attention once more, finally starting the class by going through the year’s syllabus. Wednesday was eager for future lessons the moment she saw a heavy focus on rune working and advanced transformation and transmutation. The summer elf went on to give a rundown of the subjects after the brief look through, refreshing the few students that had a glazed sheen to their eyes.

Wednesday listened intently despite knowing the material quite well already. The witch could tell that Professor Allistair had an interesting perspective on alchemy, what with being from a different world of their own, and wielding magic that is not based within the laws of this plane. She found herself drawn in; the vast collection of monsters that made up her bloodline only involved one or two of the fair folk, and she yearned to learn from the fae having always found them to be a fascinating race.

However, by the time the first hour of the double block was done, Wednesday found her energy waning a little. Her entire back crying out in refusal to sit in the stool any longer. With a defeated sigh, the witch slips out of her seat and collapses into the comfort of her wheelchair, her body going limp and numb in its hold. No one else besides Professor Allistair were in the room, the summer elf allowing a fifteen-minute break before moving onto potions. Wednesday debated heading out for a smoke, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to be in a hazy state while in classes.

“Maiden Wednesday?” The witch blinks hard a few times, not realizing she had shut her eyes. Professor Allistair looms in front of her with a concerned expression. “Are you alright, Maiden?”

“You don’t need to call me that,” Wednesday mutters as she pushes herself up a little in her chair.

“Ah, noted, I didn’t want to disrespect you by not addressing you as such,” the professor gives an easy smile, but it quickly slips back into a look of worry. “My question still stands, are you alright?”

Wednesday sighs tiredly as she nods, “I’m sure as you can imagine the lack of back support isn’t good for me.”

The professor’s eyes widened a bit, “oh yes, I quite imagine so, apologies Ms. Addams, if you desire it I can change your chair for you.”

The witch shakes her head, “I suppose I should allow it, but I hate needing special treatment.”

“Hm, then perhaps I have a solution,” Professor Allistair said with a warm smile.

Wednesday watches as the summer elf removes their long coat with a small flourish. They rolled up the sleeves of their white dress shirt, and for the first time Wednesday noted the black, thick lines inked across their right hand and forearm; runic symbols drawn out in hard angles and straight lines. Professor Allistair walks over to Wednesday’s seat, humming cheerfully as they lay their hand on the stool.

The black lines spark - literally - silver specks jumping off of their skin like embers as the black ink is eaten up by light of a similar hue. The moment the shining magic reaches their fingertips, the stool rapidly changes and shifts. Within a matter of seconds, the wooden stool becomes soft, black linen patted with cotton and having a wide back. Professor Allistair looks at Wednesday with a smile that has grown even brighter.

“How is that Ms. Addams?”

“It...it will do, Professor Allistair.”

With that approval, the summer elf quickly moves around the classroom, transforming the rest of the stools. The feat of magic is awe inspiring, and truly impossible by most human mages’ standards; Wednesday could never imagine her Grandmama doing such a thing, and the old witch is practically immortal. Alchemy just simply can’t be performed without runes and great control, and an even greater well of energy to pull from. Her father is a master in the art of alchemy, and he’d be brought to tears at this sight - not from jealousy of course, but from the beautiful ease at which it is done.

By the time Professor Allistair is done and stepping back in front of the Maiden, Wednesday can’t hold back her excitement. “That was remarkable.”

“Oh, thank you, Maiden-ah, apologies Ms. Addams.”

Wednesday leans forward, a hunger shining in her eyes, “might I ask some questions about that tattoo?”

Professor Allistair grins - sharp and delighted - as she hops up and takes a seat upon a table. “I am so glad you are interested, it is a bit of old magic you humans have forgotten!”

“Hm, I thought so, I believe my Cousin Reck has something similar, though it helps protect him from harm.”

“Oh yes! In some ways, it is the beginning of alchemy, runic magic,” Professor Allistair holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers to bring attention to the black ink on her fingertips. “If I could, I would teach a class on it! But, teaching you will be enough.”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, “already showing favoritism, professor?”

The summer elf chuckles, “perhaps, I am the acting Crone of the Nevermore Coven, I have always had a love for witches, especially those of the old ways.”

The witch is about to ask more, but a few students walk in. Professor Allistair quickly jumps off of the table, her smile turning soft as she lays a gentle hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Please, come around my office anytime, Maiden Wednesday, I wish to help any witch grow into her own, but to give rise to you would be an honor like none other.”

“I will, professor, and thank you for...the change in seating.”

“Of course, the stools were a bit boring anyways.”

Wednesday entered her spell theory class with dread settled deep in her gut; the classroom was a proper lecture hall and filled with more bodies than her double block. She moved toward the rising rows of desks, rolling her eyes seeing only a set of steps along the right side of the room. She pushed herself up and out of her wheelchair with gritted teeth, the volume of the room quieting as she shuffled down into a desk at the end of the front row.

Thing peeks out from his little pocket, wriggling his fingers anxiously; Wednesday sighs at his concern, and yet it dissolves the tension from her shoulders. “Either join me, or stop your worming, it’s distracting,” the witch whispers, a tiny smile curling the corner of her lips.

The severed hand taps as he thinks, however before he can come to a decision someone approaches Wednesday. The young man is tall and lanky, long brown hair thrown up into a messy bun; he looks down at her with an unsure smile and the eyes of a prey animal. Wednesday is already bored of him, but she was also a believer in allowing people to amuse her before she decided to dismiss them or not.

He shuffles on his feet, not really meeting her unblinking stare as he speaks, “uh, hey there, Wednesday right? Or um, Maiden Wednesday - Addams? I don’t know how you old witches really do the whole title thing.”

“Well for starters, you could try not talking to me.”

The young man sputters in an effort to come up with a reply. She smirks as Thing squirms around in his hiding place with laughter.

“Though if you truly wish to speak with me,” Wednesday continues, giving the long-haired man a small mercy, “call me Wednesday, there’s no need for titles outside of coven gatherings.”

“A-ah, gotcha,” he clears his throat, a hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Well, I’m Xaiver Thorpe, it’s uh nice to meet you?”

“I can’t share that sentiment.”

Xavier isn’t knocked off balance this time around, instead his eyes narrow a little as a frown crosses his face. “Hey man, I’m just trying to be friendly; I’ve heard a lot about your family within my Circle and I was interested in, ya know, actually getting to know you.”

Wednesday scoffs, crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair, “ah yes, the Circle of Dreamers, such a kind and welcoming lot you all are,” her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Red blossoms in Xavier’s face, be it from embarrassment or fury, Wednesday couldn’t tell - not that she really cared in the first place. The warlock suddenly takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering close for a moment as he slowly releases the lungful of air. He opens his eyes and finally meets the witch’s gaze with a calm that surprises her somewhat.

“I know, that’s why I wanted to talk with you, can I sit next-”

Before Xavier can finish his ask, he is shoulder-checked out of the way by a grinning Yoko. The vampire dumps her books across the desk next to Wednesday before dropping down into the chair, messenger bag thrown down by her feet. She leans over, tossing an arm around the witch’s shoulders, and squeezes Wednesday into a side hug.

“Hey Weds, thanks for saving me a seat!”

“I didn’t.”

“Hey.” The two turn toward a still standing Xavier, who is glaring down at Yoko, “I wanted to sit there.”

Yoko arches an eyebrow, her grin turning into an unimpressed look, “well boo hoo, go sulk in a corner like you usually do, Thorpe.”

Much like Yoko had said, Xavier turns and walks off to brood in the top row. The vampire looks back to Wednesday with a slight smirk, “can you believe that guy? Hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Hardly, speaking with him is like dealing with a buzzing fly, I would have ended up squashing him.”

Yoko howls with laughter, her hyena-like laugh causing a number of people to jolt in alarm. She leans in close, lowering her sunglasses a bit to peer at Wednesday with gleeful, red eyes. “I think in another life, you and I would have been soulmates.”

“Doubtful.”

“Speaking of soulmates,” Yoko leans away from the witch, twisting in her seat to kick her feet up onto the desk to her left. “Divina told me you let her sit next to you in your guys’ double block,” sharp-toothed and shit-eatting grin as she delivers her next words with a sickly-sweet tone. “That was so nice of you.”

“Perhaps I should return you to your girlfriend with fewer teeth.”

“And maybe I’ll return you to yours with no tongue.”

Wednesday’s brow furrows, finally gracing Yoko with a glance from the corner of her eye, “I do not have a girlfriend.”

Yoko snorts, barely keeping down that hyena-like laugh, “could’ve fooled me with the way Enid looks at you.”

“...Look at me in what way?”

“Like you’re the literal moon.”

Lightning flashes in Wednesday’s eyes, a storm brewing in the subtle furrowing of her brow. Yoko grunts as fingertips dig into her side, trying to slip in between her ribs; Wednesday reaches around with her other hand, hooking her fingers over the back of the vampire’s neck and pulling her in close.

“I will only warn you once; never say such words to me again. I have long since given up on the notion of being hers, I’m content in being here - in not risking my life over the hopeless wishing that she might return my feelings.” Wednesday releases Yoko with a quiet huff, “besides, you and I both know she would blame herself endlessly for my death.”

Yoko rubs at her side with a faint frown, “fucking christ you’re dramatic, you’re not going to die.”

For a moment, a red sheen flickers over the witch’s irises. “That is where you are wrong, Yoko.”

The sun glares down on a surprisingly cloudless afternoon in September - in Vermont. Wednesday has tucked away into a corner of a sparsely populated quad; a small group of rowdy werewolves playing football keeping away a majority of other students. She stares up at the blue sky, swimming in thoughts of turquoise eyes - until a light weight taps against her thigh. The witch glances down, a pleased sigh leaving her upon seeing a familiar tin container resting in her lap.

“Thank you, Thing,” she mutters as she picks it up and pops open the lid.

The severed hand flings himself from the back of her wheelchair, landing in her lap palm side up. Wednesday smiles lightly at Thing as she places a joint between her lips, “so, thoughts on our first day?”

Thing flops about like a dying fish causing Wednesday to roll her eyes. “Oh hush you, I was not a fish out of water,” Wednesday jabs the middle of his palm, lifting her free hand up to the joint; a small flame sparks to life at the tip of her index finger and lights up the end.

He wriggles out from under her hand, flipping onto his stump of a wrist, “oh please young master, I know you were desperately missing Enid, your yearning for her was as clear as this sky!”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, inhaling deeply and holding her breath for a moment until she releases it with smoky words. “I would watch your thumb, Thing, unless you desire the loss of it.”

“It would not be the first time I have had it plucked from me, young master; do your worst, for I shall do the same.”

The witch huffs, taking the joint from her lips between two fingers, “let’s say you’re right - which you’re not - so what? Am I not allowed to miss the company of my best friend?”

“It is, as the youths would say, kind of fruity.”

Wednesday had the misfortune of taking another drag at this point, causing her to choke on air, smoke, and laughter. “Wh-who taught you that?!” She asks around a rough cough, mirth tainting her tone.

Thing wiggles his entire being, delight springing from the movement of his fingers, “I would never rat out my sources, you know me better than that young master.”

“That’s fine, I have an idea as to who it was,” Wednesday said with a faint smile, “now give me a moment to smoke in peace, I’m sure Enid is-”

Without warning Thing dives off of Wednesday’s lap, squirreling away into his little pocket under the seat of her wheelchair. Wednesday doesn’t really question it as she catches onto what forced Thing to hide himself - footsteps. The witch glances off to the side, cocking an eyebrow as she sees a familiar gorgon approaching with a limping gait; she focuses in on that, noting the way he doesn’t bend his right knee, pretty much dragging his leg along.

Ajax gives her a goofy smile, dark brown eyes crinkling and shining warm in the afternoon sun, “hey there Wednesday, sorry to come out of nowhere like this, but I was wondering if I could get some help?”

“Perhaps, what is it?”

“Well, I had a couple buddies over two days ago and they totally smoked my whole medical stash, Enid said you might have some you can spare?”

Wednesday’s eyes widened a bit, “you have...a condition?”

Ajax nods, his smile never dimming, “oh yeah man, forgot you didn’t know!” He bent down a bit awkwardly at the waist to pull his pant leg up to reveal the hardened, gray skin of his right knee. “Stone Skin Disease, or gorgon arthritis if you wanna be human about it,” he said with a light laugh. “It’s flaring up pretty bad today and sadly my cream isn't helping man.”

“I...see,” Wednesday blinks a few times, “you are awfully...chipper about it.”

The gorgon shrugs his shoulders, “lived with it my whole life, no reason to be mad about it, ya know?”

“Yes, I suppose,” she mumbles, taking out her tin container and popping it open once more. “Feel free to take a few to tide you over until you can get your own.”

“Sweet, thanks so much man, but you’ll be good right?” He takes three joints from the container.

Wednesday rolls her eyes, taking and shoving the last two joints into his hand, “I have plenty, and besides, my mother is just a crystal ball call away.”

Ajax grins, nodding as he tucks away his newly acquired weed into his pocket, though keeps one out as he digs into his other pocket. “Man, wish that was me, gotta wait like another three days for my stuff to be mailed in; you would think Jericho would have some supernatural friendly medicine in town, but no way man, not even painkillers.”

The witch scoffs, “of course not, it’s Jericho.”

“Fair point!” Ajax chuckles, pulling out a plastic lighter and bringing flame to the end of his joint; he takes a deep drag, and then exhales slowly, his grin stretching even wider - making him look even dopier. “Damn, I can tell this is some good stuff, maybe I’ll buy my weed from you instead!”

“If you wish, though there would be no need for payment, my family has enough money as it is.”

“Nah, no way man I couldn’t just take from you like that!”

“Hardly taking if I am offering.”

Ajax opens his mouth as if to argue, but then gives up with a shake of his head. “You know, you’re way nicer than I thought you would be.”

Wednesday tilts her head slightly, taking a small inhale of her own joint, “oh? Does Enid’s stories truly paint me in such unflattering colors?”

“I mean, I guess? I don’t know, I just expected you to be more...closed off.”

She hums softly, letting herself relax back in her wheelchair as her gaze drifts away from the gorgon. “When I was younger, yes, but my condition has caused a lot of change in my life.”

“Don’t I know it man,” Ajax said, stepping out from under the sheltered walkway of the quad, he carefully lowered himself to take a seat on the grass. “Can I like, ask about it?”

“...Blood curse, permanent...it attacks my nerve endings for most hours of the day, mainly along the spine.”

“Oof, sounds rough bud.”

Wednesday snorts and finds herself cracking a small smile, “that’s one way of putting it.”

Ajax looks over his shoulder with that silly, wide smile, “right man? It’s a rough ride, but hey, we’re still going.”

“Yeah...yeah, we are.”

“Wenny! Oh my goddess there you are! Where have you been? Classes ended like three hours-” Enid stops mid-sentence, her nose wrinkling as she sniffs the air while Wednesday fully rolls into their room. “Oh, you were out smoking, you know it’s fine if you wanna do that in the room, I totally don’t mind!”

Wednesday blinks rapidly, freezing up like a gorgon had petrified her, “...hi, I’m here...which you know that...and you’re here, which is awesome.”

“Awe, are you high right now?” Enid coos as she reaches out and ruffles Wednesday’s bangs a little.

“A buzz at most, my back was hurting and I wanted to relax.”

Enid softens at that, not thinking much as she cradles Wednesday’s face, “you want some help getting comfy?”

The witch’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into Enid’s touch, “sounds nice.”

The werewolf giggles as she pulls away, and laughs brightly as Wednesday straightens up, her eyes opening into a glare. “Come on my grumpy little spider, time to get changed,” Enid pulls Wednesday up from her wheelchair, steadying the witch’s stumbling steps.

Wednesday grumbles as she takes her cane and hobbles into her closest; Thing hurrying after her to help. Enid moves the wheelchair over to its spot near Wednesday’s bed before going back over to her desk. She absentmindedly looks through one of her notebooks, trying to busy her mind as she gathers up her courage. She felt dumb for worrying about this, but this was definitely putting Wednesday on the spot! Enid heaves out a sigh, and slaps her cheeks a few times; no no, it was fine! It totally was, this was Wednesday, and this’ll be a breeze for her!

“Enid?”

The werewolf, so absorbed in her thoughts, didn’t hear the shuffling footsteps of her best friend come up behind her; she whips around with a sheepish smile. “Sorry Wenny, got a bit distracted.”

Wednesday gazes up at Enid, swaying gently on her feet, “by what?”

She chews on her bottom lip, and before she can really think about how to ask it, she just ripped off the band-aid and let it pour from her. “Will you be my model?”

“...What?”

“My model for photography, we have a year long project about change, so we gotta pick a subject and take a picture practically every day to - well, show how it has changed throughout the year!”

“...Me?”

Enid nods fast, “Professor Fox said I needed to work on using more human subjects so...will you be mine?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said lightning fast, catching Enid off-guard at first, and then she lets out an ear-piercing squeal.

The werewolf throws her arms around Wednesday and pulls her into a bone crushing hug. “Oh my goddess! Thank you thank you thank you! This is gonna be so fun!”

“Enid," Wednesday wheezes weakly, "my back-”

“OH FUCK!”

Chapter Text

“Stop fussing Wenny,” Enid chided softly, her voice drifting from across the room, but to Wednesday her voice rang so loudly in her ears.

The witch sighs as she lets her arm drop back down onto the armrest of her wheelchair, “perhaps it’s best you picked someone-”

“Nope!” Enid grins, never taking her eyes off of her camera as she adjusts the focus on it, “I asked you, you agreed, now your body is mine.”

Along with my soul, “I simply think it might be better for you to have someone more experienced in these things.”

“In modeling?” The werewolf glances up for a moment, her grin stretching out wider, “don’t worry about that! I just need you to sit there and be your handsome self.”

Wednesday ducks her head, turning her face away to look out the window, but more importantly to hide the blush that heats up her cheeks. “I believe there are people who could easily do that as well.”

Enid scoffs, “oh yeah? Name someone,” the werewolf demands as she glances between her camera and Wednesday with narrowed, calculating eyes.

“Well...” Wednesday pauses for a very long time, “...there’s Yoko?”

“...Yoko...are you sure about that?”

“Are you saying you don’t think she’s attractive? She’ll be hurt once she has learned of this Enid.”

Enid rolls her eyes, turning her focus back onto her camera, “you’re such a fucking asshole.”

The witch smirks, an airy chuckle escaping her. The shutter of the camera catches her by surprise, she looks toward Enid with wide eyes, but the werewolf is solely grinning at the little screen of her camera.

“Perfect,” Enid whispers, she then stands up from her crouch and makes her way over to Wednesday. “What do you think?” She breathes near Wednesday’s ear, holding the camera in front of the witch.

Wednesday...doesn’t recognize herself. Her eyes half-lidded with a faint smirk on her lips, the early morning light caught and reflected in her dark eyes as she stared out of the window. A light flush to her cheeks, bringing attention to her freckles; black hair left long and wild and wavy. The shadows defining the angular curve of her jaw, the razor cut of her cheekbone. She was...

“Gorgeous, right?” Enid said softly, “I couldn’t ask for a more devilishly handsome model.”

Wednesday bends down and undoes the break on her wheelchair, trying to hide her blush though there was no denying the redness of her ears. “Are you done? I have to finish getting ready for class.”

The werewolf giggles as she skips over to her camera bag, “all good! Go ahead without me, I’m gonna get this onto my laptop and make sure I have backups.”

“Very well, I will see you at lunch then.” Wednesday throws her hair up into a quick bun before moving to gather up her backpack and Thing. “Goodbye Enid, I hope your morning classes go terribly.”

“Thanks Wenny! See you later, I love you!”

Wednesday freezes at the door, her heart squeezed tight in her chest as a strangled gasp leaves her suddenly empty lungs. Thing perks up, tapping out a worried beat on her thigh, but Wednesday couldn’t focus on his words, her mind - her soul - stolen by those three words. She was at a loss, unable to answer without putting her life on the line; and yet she had to bite her tongue to stop the confession from jumping from her heart and shattering on the floor. So, without a word - without a glance back at Enid, she left their room.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Wednesday grits her teeth and chokes down tears as the curse’s fangs sink in.

Morticia frowns as she comes to a stop among the angel's trumpets of her greenhouse. She slowly scans her wild garden, a troubled sense creeping over her by the second, but she couldn’t see anything amiss. Pubert had not been in the greenhouse as of late, so surely no well-hidden trap; though her children haven’t done such a thing recently, not since the last one had set fire to her beloved flower beds. The dark witch’s frown only grows, but she tries to brush off the feeling, turning her focus back to watering her garden.

She wasn’t given the chance.

Pain lanced through her chest, stealing her breath and causing her to drop her watering can. Morticia crumples to the ground, clutching at her dress as she pants, dazed by the sudden agony. She scrambles to gather her thoughts, to figure out what just happened; then it strikes again - weaker this time though, and followed by a soft whisper barely brushing against her mind.

Morticia’s eyes widen in horror as she recognizes the gentle voice, “Wednesday!” Her shadow grows underneath her, becoming as black as tar, and she sinks into it as if it was liquid.

A slender hand smacks against the ground, startled shouts leaving the two people in the room as they watch a tall, slim figure come crawling out of the darkness of a corner. Morticia heaves out breaths as pure black eyes wildly search the dim room, her gaze landing upon the prone figure on the ground.

“WEDNESDAY!” The dark witch wails, the shadows gathering around her and moving her toward her daughter at an unnatural speed.

Morticia inhales sharply seeing the paleness of Wednesday’s skin, the light sheen of sweat, her breath shallow; the younger witch’s eyes were half-lidded, glassy and bloodshot, and seeing nothing. The dark witch coos softly as she gingerly cradles her daughter in her lap, “ma petite araignée, what has happened?”

“Maman,” Wednesday whimpers, blinking slowly and her eyes barely focus on Morticia. “Maman...the curse...”

Morticia frowns, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Wednesday’s ear, drawing her daughter even more onto her lap. “Another attack, but why?”

“Enid...here,” the younger witch hisses out between clenched teeth.

The dark witch’s eyes widened slightly, she spares a glance up at the two women that still stood in the room, “ma araignée, we will speak more on this later, for now let your maman take care of you.”

Wednesday says nothing, simply curling more into her mother’s gentle touch and warmth.

Morticia turns her attention onto the women, pinning them down with a narrow stare of black eyes, “and who might I be having the pleasure of meeting?”

The older woman of the two startles, but quickly settles with a small smile, “Marilyn Thornhill, acting Mother of the Nevermore Coven.”

The younger woman fumbles a bit, looking uncertain for a moment as to what to do with her body, before rushing into a clumsy curtsy, “Ruby Ashwood, Sister of the Gulf Coast Coven.”

“Hm...did both of you find my daughter?” Morticia questions lowly, carefully wrapping an arm under Wednesday’s legs and back as she rises to her feet.

“I-I did,” Ruby said as she straightened up, hands fluttering over the front of her shirt, “I heard some groaning and it didn’t sound like two people so I wanted to make sure whoever it was, was okay and well...” she gestures to Wednesday’s limp form. “I called for Ms. Thornhill, and soon after she arrived, you showed up.”

Marilyn takes a step forward, brow furrowed in concern as she looks at Wednesday, “is Maiden Wednesday going to be alright?”

Morticia raises an eyebrow at the use of the title, “she will recover, especially with my care, now pardon me as I do as such.”

“Of course, Mother Addams,” Marilyn bows at the waist slightly, “I’m sorry for failing in my duty to watch over your daughter and Maiden.”

“...It has been a pleasure in meeting you both, and worry not Mother Thornhill, my precious bug hides well so I am not surprised she escaped your notice.”

“Maman,” Wednesday whines quietly.

The dark witch chuckles as she presses a tender kiss to her daughter’s temple, “I know, I know, not in front of others.”

Morticia turns on her heels, her eyes closing briefly as she calls to the shadows of Nevermore, sinking into the familiarity of them. She sighs as she steps out into Wednesday’s room, a light smile playing across her lips as she lays her daughter down on her bed.

A rattling groan leaves Wednesday’s chest as her mother silently scans the shared room. “Enid won’t...be back until...late,” the younger witch pants heavily, blinking back tears.

“Enid Sinclair,” Morticia mutters, looking over the bright colors and stuffed animals and horror movie posters with a fond smile. “To think Nevermore would be where you two meet once again.”

Another groan leaves Wednesday, but this one not of pain, “by the Mother...please don’t start.”

Morticia looks to her daughter with a playful smirk, “I would never, my little bug, I shall leave the passionate tales of romance to your father.” The dark witch reaches down and runs her fingers through Wednesday’s hair, “give me a few minutes and you will be right as rain.”

Wednesday barely lifts a hand to wave off her mother and her words, “I cannot...wait to be cut...open and bled...like a pig.”

The group share varying looks among each other as another heave of breath leaves Enid in a downtrodden sigh, the werewolf listlessly stabbing at her lunch. Divina and Ajax share worried stares, while Bianca rolls her eyes as she continues to eat her lunch; Kent was just happy to be there. Yoko shakes her head as she drains the last few drops of her blood bag, she tosses it aside as she slides down the bench to bump into Enid’s side.

“Alright, who rained on your parade?” Yoko asks as she throws an arm around Enid’s shoulders.

Enid doesn’t snuggle into the side-hug like she usually would as she mumbles, “no one.”

“Well, that’s clearly not true,” the vampire pokes - figuratively and literally - wiggling her fingertips against Enid’s ribs. “Come on sunshine, you’re surrounded by friends, no need to be shy.”

The werewolf huffs as she shoves her brutalized lunch away, “it’s nothing guys, seriously.”

At this Bianca turns toward Enid with a withering glare, “if it’s nothing then how about you stop making it into something.”

“Bianca-”

“No,” the siren cuts Divina off fast, “I’m done hearing her little, pathetic whimpers then brushing us off, if she doesn’t fucking tells us what’s her problem, I’m gonna song her into being quiet.”

Yoko whips around, “shut up Bar-”

“She’s right.”

Yoko’s jaw clicks shut, her eyes wide behind her glasses as she looks back toward Enid. The werewolf sighs as she slumps further forward, laying her arms across the surface of the table, placing down her chin with another loud huff of air.

“It’s Wednesday,” Enid mutters weakly, “she’s upset with me, but I don’t know why.”

“By the sea,” Bianca hisses, rolling her eyes as she goes back to eating, “it’s just fucking lesbian drama.”

“Bianca!”

The siren stands up with her lunch tray in hand, “don’t start with me Yoko, I’m the only one here with the spine to tell the stupid dog to get her act together.” Bianca glances down at Enid with a slight sneer, “either go find your bestie and make up, or get the fuck over yourself; until then, I’m not hanging around to hear your endless bellyaching.”

Bianca walks off without another word, leaving a cold quietness hovering over the table. Yoko, Ajax, and Divina all looked at each other, unsure of what to say; however, in the end, they weren’t given a chance as an unexpected voice pipes up.

“I don’t really agree with the way she said all of that, but she is right.”

Everyone looks to Kent with wide eyes; the large grin on his face never leaves as he takes another bite of his grilled fish, talking around the mouthful. “I’m sure whatever is going on, Wednesday will forgive you because yeah, you two are best friends! Like, I could never stay mad at Divina for very long after a fight, especially when she apologizes and gets me some chicken nuggets.”

Divina sighs, rolling her eyes at her brother’s words, “Kent, this isn’t exactly the same-”

She’s cut off as Enid suddenly stands up, “you’re right.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that-”

“He is right, Bianca too,” Enid speaks over Yoko, “Wenny and I are best friends, we’ve always talked these kinds of things out, I can’t sit here waiting in despair for her to find me first.”

Yoko sighs, reaching under her glasses to rub at her eyes, “Enid that’s...great and all, but do you even know where she’s at right now?”

“Nope! But I’m not a werewolf for nothing!” Enid whips around and bounds off before Yoko can get another word in.

The vampire shakes her head, turning in her seat to look at the others with a slight grin, “the fucking idiot forgot her stuff.”

Enid sprints toward Ophelia Hall, stopping for no one, which did result in someone being bowled over without an apology, nor even a glance to see who it was. The werewolf bursts into the common room, scaring a few of the girls having lunch in there, but Enid doesn’t take notice - she was a woman on a mission right now. She takes the stairs two at a time, almost slamming into a girl when rounding up the stairwell and hitting the second floor landing; luckily Enid barely dodges out of the way, continuing her charge up the stairs without a care. She reaches the tower in record time, grinning widely at her own speediness.

Enid can hear muffled music playing from the tower, a wide grin spreads across her face and she hurriedly climbs the steps; however, she pauses half-way up when she suddenly catches a scent. A heavy metallic smell that has ice shooting through her veins.

The werewolf doesn’t notice the unsheathing of her own claws as she practically throws herself up the rest of the stairs, shoulder-tackling the door open in her haste and panic. “Wednesday! Are you alright?! What’s going-”

Enid freezes up, blinking wildly at the sight that greeted her.

“Oh Enid, my dear little moon, just give me a moment, I’m almost done here.” Morticia Addams, the woman that Enid has always considered as an actual mother and missed as badly as Wednesday these last eight years, was right there in the dorm room, smiling warmly at the werewolf. While also kneeling on Wednesday’s bed, hovering over said girl, who was bleeding profusely from a long cut down her spine; the blood floating up into the air to hover around Morticia.

“What...the fuck?” Enid squeaks out, taking a few unsure steps forward.

Morticia flicks and swipes her fingers, chanting softly in a language unknown - and possibly dead to many people - the blood obeying to whatever this ritual is. Enid watches the red liquid flow back down to its host, sinking into the open wound. Morticia reaches out, still chanting lightly, placing her fingertips at the base of Wednesday’s neck, right where the cut began; the dark witch slowly runs her fingers downward, leaving behind knitted flesh and no sign of a cut ever being there.

“There we go,” Morticia rubs a small circle on Wednesday’s lower back, her smile tender as she kisses the crown of her daughter’s head. “She’ll be asleep for a little while longer, I’m sorry Enid, I know you probably want to talk to Wednesday about all of this, but you’ll have to settle for me instead.”

“Th-that’s fine, I mean, oh my goddess I’ve missed you so much! But also like, what the fuck?! What are you doing here? Why were you doing a blood ritual on Wenny!? Is she okay?”

Morticia smiles, standing up from the bed she glides over to Enid, and the werewolf whimpers as Morticia draws her into a gentle embrace. “I don’t want to say too much without Wednesday being fully present, but she’s alright now, I’ve had to do this in the past as well.”

A shuttering exhale escapes Enid, her arms coming up to wrap tightly around Morticia, the sweet scent of something floral and poisonous filling her with comfort and tears, “wh-why? What...what’s going on with Wednesday?”

“...Let’s sit down, my sweetling, this is not an easy topic.”

Enid sniffles, reluctant to let go, but does nonetheless, if only to learn more about what happened to her Wenny. She takes a seat on her bed, Morticia joining her and taking one of Enid’s hands to cradle between her own.

“Now Enid, I know it’s something we’ve mentioned before around you, though never gave you the details, but you recall the Addams Family’s Curse?”

Enid perks up slightly, a weak smile cracking her lips, “how could I forget? Wenny complained non-stop about it.”

Morticia chuckles, “indeed she did...well, what you are witnessing is the result of that.”

Cold pours over Enid’s head, dragging through her body and taking her heart along in the wave of dread, “wha...what?”

“As I said, I don’t want to share too much, Wednesday should be telling you this, but she hates making you worry,” Morticia spares her daughter a fond smile. “However, I can tell you that it is a blood curse, impossible to remove since it has so completely weaved itself into the bones of every blood born Addams.”

“So...there’s nothing I can do?”

Morticia releases Enid’s hand, crooning quietly as she brings her hands up to cradle the werewolf’s face between her palms, “not at all, for you being here brings Wednesday the sweetest of agonies, give her your love so wholeheartedly, and we will surely see an improvement.”

Enid blinks rapidly, a few tears spilling down her cheeks, only to be quickly wiped away by the dark witch, “really? That...that’s it?”

Morticia nods, her smile widening as she hears a faint rustle, “love, my sweet moon, is the best way to soothe any pain.”

A frail groan drifts up from Wednesday, “maman, why am I waking up to you speaking about love? Also, Thing, change the damn record before I break it, I hate Owl City.”

Thing flips a rude gesture toward the Maiden before hurriedly stopping the record player and going about putting away one of his favorites. Morticia laughs softly as she gets to feet and moves over to Wednesday’s side, “how are you feeling, my little bug?”

“Well, my back isn’t being flayed anymore, so better.”

“Wonderful, for you have a visitor.” Wednesday tenses up, slowly she turns her head to look up at her mother with wide eyes, Morticis simply keeps on smiling as she starts to step away, “I’ll leave you girls for a moment, I need to get Wednesday more of her herbs.”

Enid hops to her feet and rushes to the dark witch, giving her a quick hug before she leaves, “okay! Hurry back, I totally wanna know what you’ve been up to, and how the whole family has been!”

Morticia presses a kiss against Enid’s temple, “of course, my little star, I’ll be back soon.”

Wednesday says nothing as Morticia walks over to a corner of the room, slipping into the shadows there and disappearing from the room. Silence overtook the room, as Enid inches over to Wednesday’s bed, swaying uncertainty at the side before taking a hesitant seat on the edge by Wednesday’s hip; however, after a long minute Enid snarls out a sigh. The witch hears the muted thuds of shoes being kicked off before Enid shuffles and gingerly nudges her closer to the wall; the blonde lays down on her back beside Wednesday, head turned to stare directly into dark eyes.

“You know, nothing has changed, and yet everything has, and yet right now I feel like I’m ten years old again, sharing a bed with you - the only differences being I’m way taller and not cuddling you.”

Wednesday closes her eyes, a faint smile twisting at her lips, “I think there’s a lot more differences than that, Enid.”

“Hm...nope, don’t see anything different about you; still tiny, absolutely stunning, and mean as fuck.”

Wednesday huffs out a breath, her lungs giving out, and her ribs cracking under the pressure of her pounding heart. Enid raises an eyebrow, wiggling closer until their shoulders brush, the werewolf stretching out her pinky to lace loosely with Wednesday’s, “oh, I forgot one more thing.”

“And what’s that?”

Enid grins, rolling onto her side and huddling even closer, sliding her hand fully into Wednesday’s and threading their fingers together, “that you’re the most important person in my life.”

Wednesday takes a breath slowly, her soul quaking with the threat of another attack from the curse, and yet - by the Mother below and the moon above - she didn’t fucking care. Because Enid is right here, so warm against her starving body, speaking honey heavy words that numbs the bitterness decaying her bones. She wants to say something - anything - let the blood pumping through her heart pour from her lips, her tongue; but she can’t, can’t, can’t. If only she could...

Enid yelps as Wednesday suddenly moves lightning fast, pulling her arm away to push herself up; in her rush to get up and off the bed, Wednesday misses the way Enid’s eyes dart down to her bare chest. The witch almost stumbles and hits the floor, but luckily keeps her balance as she limps into her closet. It isn’t hard to find the lock box at the back, hidden under a few loose floorboards, she comes back out with it cradled in her arms, a t-shirt thrown over her shoulder as well.

“I have...letters too, if...if you want to-”

“YES!”

Her cheeks are flush with her eagerness, those beloved blue eyes sharpening with something dark - something hungry, and Wednesday tried not to choke on her tongue as she placed the box on the bed. She pulls her shirt on, falling gracelessly onto the mattress and relishes in the fact that the motion doesn’t rattle her spine into splinters. Enid crawls into the witch’s personal space once again, resting her chin on a thin shoulder as Wednesday drags the locked box onto her lap.

It was a heavy thing of cursed iron and reddish stained leather, dark and foreboding to anyone with a sense for danger; it was perfect for hiding her weakest moments. The damned thing hisses as Wednesday digs her fingertips into an unseen seam, the leather straps stretching and resisting until they can hold on no longer under the weight of its creator’s hands. It snaps open with a disgruntled creak, revealing the content of its bottomless stomach.

“Whoa,” Enid whispers, her breath washing over Wednesday’s ear; she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in Wednesday’s shoulders, nor the way her skin heats up.

The witch hesitates for a few seconds, flexing her hand fruitlessly to dispell the shake that overtakes it. She carefully combs through the letters, before finally deciding on one that was penned just at the start of this year. Wednesday throws it onto the bed, slamming the box closed as she gets to her feet; she slips from Enid’s warmth, ignoring the misery that carves a hole in her chest. She could only pray to Mother Earth that this didn’t kill her, though she supposes, dying from showing her written adoration would be quite poetic for the would-be author.

She shuffles back into the closet, not bothering with hiding the box under the floor, instead simply stashing it away behind the trunks and bags in there. She lingered in the dim shadows, her anxiety prickling the back of her neck, but she was an Addams, she would meet her death with what little dignity she had left. However, when Wednesday hobbles back over to the doorway, she immediately freezes seeing Enid wasn’t reading the letter at all - no, she sat there with her bottom lip worried between sharp teeth.

“Oh!” Enid lunges up, almost tripping over her own feet, but she catches herself and grins sheepishly at Wednesday as she thrusts out her hand. “Here! I figured since you were sharing I um...I would too.”

At this point, Wednesday wonders if she even has a single piece of her heart left, surely Enid has taken the whole of it, and eaten it right in front of her. She takes the envelope, her cheek twitching with a smile when she sees her name written out in glittery black; it was clearly done when Enid was younger, missing the way Enid now curls the ends of each letter and dots her i’s with tiny hearts. Wednesday grunts as she’s knocked out of her thoughts, Enid giggles as she pulls Wednesday down to join her once more on the bed.

“Okay okay, do you wanna read my first?” Enid asks, fluffing up the pillows before settling against them, patting the spot next to her.

Wednesday huffs as she flops down beside the werewolf, doing her best not to squirm when Enid snakes an arm between the pillows and her back, cuddling up against her. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not! Actually I’d prefer it, my letter is totally embarrassing, like - I wrote it when I was thirteen, just a few months after we moved, and I was really depressed and missing you like crazy.”

“Oh...well then, I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer for a response, eight years is cruel even for an Addams.”

Wednesday carefully opens the envelope despite Enid’s nudging and prodding, slipping out and unfolding the letter, her breath coming to a shuddering halt as she takes in the shimmering words and small doodles that dance along the edges of the paper.

Hi Wenny!

I know I know, letters should start off with ‘dear’ and all that, but it’s so boring! I can just hear your voice in my head, going on and on and on, I get enough of that from my English teacher, I don’t need it from you too! Though, you’re way better and smarter than Mr. V, so it’s fine. Well, it’s not fine, cause you’re not here, giving me a lesson about letter structure nonsense - oop, Nessie says hi too.

Anyways, this isn’t my first letter to you, the first ten tries got thrown out by mom, she...she really doesn’t want me to talk to you, Wenny. But whatever, that’s fine, cause I have the best plan! I’m gonna write and save all my letters from now on, and then when I’m older, I can send them to you! Dad says mom can’t take them away then, cause that’s against the law or something like that; he did ask if I wanted him to mail them for me, but I said no, I wanna do it myself!

So, with all of that out of the way; how are you, Wenny? Is your family and the Coven doing good? I hope so! I really really really miss you and everyone, I can’t wait until I get to see all of you again! Again, dad said when I’m older he’ll teach me how to drive and then help me get a car, and then I can go on a road trip out to visit you! Though, I’m just waiting for the day I can move back out to Jersey, Cal sucks! Sure, the whole pack is out here, and it’s awesome seeing grandpa again - oh! I wish you had seen it, Wenny, grandpa yelled at mom when we first got out here!

I don’t really know what it was all about, but he was super mad, and I have never seen him mad before! But I think I did hear him say something about mates, but I don’t know why, I’m pretty sure Ansel and Basil haven't found theirs yet, and the twins are still too young for any of that. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, we’re here, and there’s no way we can move back to Jersey so soon, not that mom would even allow that, even if grandpa keeps yelling at her.

Oh! Dad says hello! He’s in the doorway right now, all smiling and asking if I finished my homework...oh, uh...I gotta end this letter here, Wenny. I’ll write again real soon, but I got to do my math homework, and don’t worry! Dad is helping me, but I wish it was you, you always made it so easy for me to understand! Not that dad is bad at helping me, but like...it’s just not the same.

Love you and miss you!
Enid

Enid glances nervously from the paper to Wednesday’s face, trying to figure out anything from the blank expression that the witch wore, “I told you it was embarrassing, I sound so pathe-”

“I believe,” Wednesday mutters, blinking rapidly, and Enid gasps as a few tears escape those dark eyes, “this was around the time my condition started to flare up.”

“You mean the curse?”

Wednesday’s attention snaps toward the werewolf, “so that’s what mother told you,” she hisses, the shine of her eyes drying up as she bares her fangs.

Enid cannot ignore the wet trails on those cheeks, she gingerly brushes them away with the pads of her thumbs, her hands coming to a rest cupping Wednesday’s jawline. “Hey, don’t get angry at her, what was she supposed to tell me, that you fucking fell down the stairs? That would have been ten times worse, Wenny, than her simply explaining it’s your family’s blood curse.”

“I...I don’t...”

“You don’t, what?” Enid leans in, touching her forehead to Wednesday, “you don’t want me to worry? Cause news flash, Wenny, that’s impossible, I’m always gonna worry, and it has nothing to do with some stupid blood curse.”

Wednesday blinks slowly, and Enid swears her lower lip quivers for a moment as she sucks in a shaky breath, “do you even know what the curse is? Why it’s doing this to me?”

“No, Morticia said you should tell me, but honestly Wenny? I don’t give a fuck, I mean, if you couldn’t fix it by now,” Enid shrugs her shoulders, “then why does it matter if I know the little details? Besides, if you want me to know, you’ll tell me when you’re ready, I know I don’t have to pull it out of you like I’m pulling teeth.”

The witch sighs softly, smoke and citrus lingering on her warm breath as it flutters against Enid’s lips, “someday Enid, I will.”

“Alright then, but by the moon, Wenny, you’re just as bad - worrying about worrying me,” Enid rolls her eyes, a wide smile taking up her face as she plucks up the witch’s letter.

“I...I suppose we cannot help it, worrying for those we care for.”

A colorful claw pops the black wax seal from the envelope, “ain’t that the truth,” Enid giggles as thick parchment slides into her hand. “Oh my god Wenny, seriously? How much is this single piece of paper? It smells expensive...oh wait, that might just be you.”

“Excuse me?”

Enid holds the paper up to her nose, “hm...that’s a really nice cologne, sandalwood and oranges?”

Wednesday’s eyes widened, “yes, I usually wear it after I have a smoke.”

“Oooh, you should be careful, you’ll attract women like flies wearing that.”

“...Shut up and read the damn letter or I’ll rip it up.”

“No!” Enid turns away from Wednesday, shielding the letter with her body, “I’m sorry, I’ll read it!” The werewolf glances down at the paper, and immediately frowns as she notes the penmanship; of course, Wednesday still wrote elegantly like some Victorian noble...but the perfection was gone. An s that curved a bit too wide, a t tilting weirdly into an o - it was shaky, like the hand that was writing the letter was...oh, in pain.

My Dearest Enid,

Today marks the passage of another year, so close we are reaching the eighth of you being stolen away from me. If only I could stop the rotation of Mother Earth - nay, halt the entirety of this universe, so that I would not miss another second of your life. I care not if this makes me sound selfish, I’ll happily be called the most self-centered creature if it means having you here at my side...No, forgive me Enid, for my aggressive and demanding words. I am...suffering from many things this day, as time is not kind to my brittle bones; perhaps I should instead stop this world for concern of my health. Though, I believe not even stilling the cosmos would do much for my condition; how fortunate then, that my family is far vaster than the stars.

However, don’t let my woes worry you, Pugsley snickers and calls me melodramatic these days; I have locked him in the iron maiden and have asked that everyone leave him in there for three days for such comments...even if his words hold some truth. Yet, could anyone blame me for this behavior? As much as I love my family...you used to reside in my ribcage, keeping me hale and hearty, and now...I need to stop, you needn’t know these pathetic thoughts of mine.

I hope fate is treating you better than I, Enid, that this separation doesn’t torment you. Tell me you are flourishing under the sun out there on the west coast, that you enjoy spending time on the beaches and have made so many friends. That you have...that you have found someone nice, someone who knows you better than me...someone who smiles as naturally as you do. I...have not found anyone like that, nor do I wish to - my retinas will never recover from your searing visage.

Not everything is - as you would say - doom and gloom for me however. Cousin Itt has returned from a vacation in France with his family, he stole a few skeletons from the catacombs for the Coven, and a lovely blood vintage from the Blanc Clan for mother and I to enjoy. Cousin Limb also continues to be a most welcome nuisance, the physical therapy is torture and I must applaud the talent their four hands have; a shame I can no longer use my extra eight legs. Oh, and the tales Aunt Ophelia has been sharing at the last few gatherings, absolutely diabolic, they would make angels fall.

Despite how much I wish to keep writing, the hour grows late, and my hand burns. Another letter to seal and tuck away, maybe someday you will lay eyes on them, and learn how softly my insides rot without you...The moon is a beautiful waning crescent tonight...do you see it as well Enid? I can only hope that you do, that even miles away, we still watch the stars together.

Forever yours,
Wednesday

Nothing is said between them, as Enid lays aside the letter, and then pulls Wednesday tight to her chest, silent tears shared with each other. As she cards her fingers through Wednesday’s hair, Enid swears with every drop that soaks into her shirt that she’ll never leave Wednesday again; if anyone ever tries to force her away just like her mom...Enid glances to her shadow, where eight bright red eyes stare back. Yeah, no one was going to take her away from her Wenny ever again.

Morticia smiles as she swiftly steps back through the veil of darkness, deciding against disturbing the moment between her daughters; she can always visit another time. Besides, there was someone else she wished to drop in on before heading back home. She glided through the shadows of Nevermore, emerging from the back of a greenhouse turned into a classroom.

Marilyn Thornhill’s eyes were already on Morticia, only a few feet away with a tray full of seedlings in her hands. “Ah, Mother Addams, I didn’t think I’d see you so soon, can I help you with something?”

“Pardon me, Ms. Thornhill, I hope you have some time to spare?”

“Plenty, I don’t have afternoon classes on Tuesdays.”

Morticia smirks slightly, “I’ll remember that, now then, I want to start off with letting you know that Enid will not be attending the rest of her classes today; I sadly can’t stay for much longer, so Enid will be helping with Wednesday’s recovery.”

Marilyn nods, her brow furrowing as she frowns, “is Maiden Wednesday going to be alright? I don’t have a lot of poisonous plants here in the greenhouse, but I have some nightshades that I keep in my personal collection if she needs them.”

“That’s kind of you to offer, however there’s no need, Wednesday is perfectly fine now, she simply has to rest for the night.”

Marilyn exhales slowly, “that’s good, she gave me a scare there.”

Morticia chuckles, a fond smile curling her lips, “yes, she is quite good at that...the second matter I wish to bring up...well, you might want to sit for this.”

“Oh? This is sounding...very serious, Mother Addams,” Marilyn mutters, warily placing down the tray on a table before sitting down.

“Indeed it is, for you see, I need to understand why-” Morticia’s eyes flash red for a split second, and then her pupils quickly bled out to drown her eyes in ink, “Laurel Gates is sitting right in front of me.”

“...Fuck.”