Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Imagine this.

The first night Enid spends on the top floor of her dorm in the first year of being here, she is alone.

Night time is dark. It’s freaky, and the wood creaks. She thinks she even hears whispers. To make things worse, it rains like the sky has never seen the sun in the summer which she wasn’t even aware was possible in Vermont.

It’s hard not to imagine the ghosts that must live in the place, or like, moving stuff around. Enid only remembers hiding under the covers for the entire first year because the sounds never stop. It makes her think of the horrors, the hauntings, everything bad in the world, and god, she hates scary movies. She hates to think of being the main character of one. They don’t survive in the ones she’s seen.

She lives her whole first year like this because she’s always the odd one out.

But then she also finds something tiny carved in the furthest corner of her side of the room, like a secret little thing that no one is supposed to know.

An “L + M” with jagged little hearts next to the letters that fade away in the dark. She doesn't know what kind of love it is but it reminds her that things can’t be all bad if love was found here.

Because Enid has always been told that she has too much love in her heart.

She was told this was a good thing. That love for the pack was good. Loyalty to the pack was faith. To be without it was to be lost. Enid wasn’t sure if they meant only the pack, but she knew her love was meant for more than that.

Enid has extremely fond memories of love. Like when her pet goldfish swam in circles when she gave it little pebbles of food. Like when her best friend at 9 years old held her hand. Like when her brothers would beat up the boy making fun of her in the neighborhood. Or when her mother had cradled her tightly after her brothers told her about the boogeyman in her closet. Or when her father had lifted her on his shoulders to give her the highest vantage to throw unpopped kernels at them during a movie.

Love was the embodiment of all things good, and all things positive. Love for a friend, love for a family, love for a pet, love for an object that simply has no thoughts but has everything to do with feeling.

Enid is accustomed to love. She has a home in it.

From then on, she sleeps knowing that love can still be found in bad places.

–

That night after they made up from their first fight, Wednesday had once told Enid that she could not love like normal people did, if she could love at all. Enid did not know what that meant. She was too afraid to ask.

Truth be told, she still is.

So she made a vow that night.

Wednesday was a stranger to the world, but she would be a welcome visitor in Enid’s. This time, always.

Right from the day they met, it was touch and go. It was like the girl was left here to fend for herself, to be imprisoned and laid down in a place that looked at her like she was the same yet different.

Enid knows how that feels as the outlier of her kind. To be estranged in a world they were raised in, to be “normal” but not “normal enough.” Life has never been kind to people like them and Enid has made a secret pact with herself to love the ones that can’t get it anywhere else.

So she put a lot of care into her friendship with Wednesday, giving just enough so that the girl would know what love was like, but would not be chased away. What Wednesday was willing to allow was what Enid was willing to give.

At some point, her efforts were found. Somewhere in their sophomore year after that incident, the girl had softened and opened up in the way she could.

Wednesday was still a caustic thing. She still hated to socialize or talk to others and liked to be by her lonesome a majority of the time. She still gave Xavier hell for being around, still gave Bianca a run for her money, and threatened Yoko and quite literally anyone else (minus Eugene) her knife at the first questioning glance. She suspects that aggression was just her love language.

But Wednesday made one exception.

When Enid delivers her a cupcake for her birthday, Wednesday eats it even though her nose crinkle at the sweet taste. When Enid plays her music in the room just soft enough, the other girl still subtly taps her fingers to the bass. When Wednesday brings out her cello to the top balcony, she brings out two chairs for Enid to be her audience. When Enid has trouble, Wednesday is the first one to stand next to her.

Wednesday made it clear that she would tolerate Enid and only Enid.

Enid feels all too grateful to be so special.

–

Tonight is the second anniversary of that incident .

Laying atop the darker girl’s bed, they remain in the silence together with their legs falling off the wide end.

Most times, Enid would have something to say or gossip about and Wednesday lays there listening. It’s one of Enid’s favorite pastimes. Because though the quiet is dead when it comes, it isn’t lonely.

Tonight, Enid truly has nothing to say. She just wants to exist against the trauma that builds inside of her and she appreciates that Wednesday doesn’t bring it up.

She closes her eyes and breathes in the air, reminding herself that it’s okay to sometimes just exist. Her turning was tougher than most. The fallout that almost happened after put more into her body than she was ready to take. She hardly has had time to breathe.

She doesn’t know she’s shaking until she feels fingers creep closer to hers. They tickle as they lay atop of hers, digit matching by digit. She feels the chill from Wednesday’s naturally cold fingertips as heat emits from hers, equalizing the space in the middle.

Grateful, Enid feels the peace from just laying there with Wednesday attempting to ease her thoughts with touch despite her reservations to it. She recognizes it as tranquility, as security.

With Wednesday, it’s just that.

Eventually, Enid tires of the frozen time. So she plays with her fingers, lifting and prodding them under Wednesday’s until the other girl gets tired of it and pulls away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Wednesday scoffs. Slowly, her fingers fall in between the gaps; their hands tighten. There’s a pause between them but a feeling cements.

Enid smiles looking at the ceiling, just slightly blurry.

They lose track of time.

Silently, the night ends.

They never talk about it but the feeling lasts and lasts and lasts.

–

The day after their graduation is bittersweet when the elation diminished.

They have until the end of the week before they’re all required to leave but their room is already bare.

All the little things that they’ve added along the years are empty except for its scars. Like the time she accidentally spilled glitter all over the floor or the time when Wednesday threw her dagger collection at the ceiling and waited for them to fall because she was bored.

Enid’s fairy lights no longer hang on with its worn out tape, her stuffed animals find a temporary home in her chest of desirables. Even their circular window filters morning light, bare without the rainbow colors.

Wednesday’s cleanliness usually means there’s not a lot of clutter to clear out and always makes it look bare, but now it looks like no one has ever lived on her side at all. The only thing left as proof of any living thing ever lived here are her cello that sits in its case and the music stand.

Enid brushes her hand on the wooden foundation on her side, as if to evoke a psychic memory from just a touch like Wednesday can.

Nothing as obtrusive comes to her but she doesn’t hear her smaller stormy friend come up from behind.

“Enid? What are you doing?”

Enid turns quickly at the call, finding Wednesday at the door of their almost-no-longer-theirs dorm. Enid doesn’t really like how that sounds but distracts herself by focusing on the other girl who moves in toward her instrument.

Wednesday’s bangs are unkempt from the weather outside, with little dews of rain clinging to them. Enid can’t help but feel bothered by how disheveled the other girl looks.

“Nothing,” Enid answers.

“I came up to tell you the nincompoops are here.”

Enid shakes her head fondly at the designated nickname Wednesday gave her family, but thanks her nonetheless knowing how they are. She steps closer to the other girl, who watches her, and meets her in the middle. “Are you gonna miss it?”

“Your family? Enid, I can hardly stand your friends.”

“No, silly, I mean this. And it’s our friends. For three years, this was home.” Enid reasons. “I think I’ll even miss the creaking and randomly moving objects.”

Wednesday lets herself scan the surroundings, as if piercing a thought into every crevice of the space as she heaves her cello case under her hand by its handle. Her eyes falter in the space where the tape used to be until she finishes the full turn. Her eyes land on Enid and they allow a few seconds to pass. “I suppose there are worse things to miss.”

“‘You suppose.’ I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes,’” Enid says.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Enid rolls her eyes playfully at the other girl and fixes her sleeve to soak a bit of rainwater and fixes Wednesday’s bangs. When she’s satisfied, she smiles and tilts her head, sliding a hand down her braid.

Wednesday doesn’t say anything but stares while they linger. A warm and hot feeling that screams at her that this is the last spreads.

Gently, Enid smiles bitterly. “Look, I’ll be down in a moment. I just want a little more time. I’ll find you before you leave?”

Wednesday nods solemnly and exits, leaving Enid in her nostalgia again.

Her eyes drop on a little corner, remembering the hidden landmark. Enid gets close to the beam it hides behind and goes down on her stomach, tracing the etching there with fondness for getting her through her first year.

She must look stupid to be on the bare floor with nothing to look for, but for a moment, Enid contemplates, wondering what kind of love it is again and if it’s survived. She supposes it doesn’t matter because even if the feeling doesn’t last, their legacy will. She supposes that’s why it was there.

A claw pops out of her finger.

When she leaves, one landmark becomes two.

Chapter Text

It’s only been one month since she started but to be honest, college isn’t really what Enid was expecting when she started. All that talk she had with Wednesday about it being the new start, the beginning of the best time of their lives was just talk. Kind of.

Enid was still excited about leaving the bad behind, and finding her footing in the new world of being half an adult. She likes being able to start over, exploring places she’s never been (especially the forests), and making new friends who don’t keel away and pity her when they see her scars. It also helps that she tells them she’s a werewolf. They don’t run away from that either.

But she misses so much more than she realized.

She misses Yoko, Divina, Bianca who all went to separate schools. Still within two hours away but still too far to travel for a good time. She misses the crazy shit they used to do after curfew in the Nightshades room. She misses the small town adventures they took in the outskirts of the forests and the weirdo stuff that Wednesday would drag them into when she thought there was a mystery to be solved.

God, she underestimated how much she’d miss her caustic raincloud of a friend.

But college has no mercy on her time. She barely has time to go out with anyone, or go anywhere 15 minutes away from her dorm room that isn’t a classroom or her campus job at the student shop. (Whoever told her it was a good idea to take more than 4 classes on top of a part-time job made her a fool and she’s never been good at spotting those kinds of lies.)

When things finally slow down, her newfound friends drag her out to party, telling her she needs to loosen up. One slip won’t kill her, they say. But the first time her grade slipped, her heart plummeted right straight to hell. Wednesday would appreciate that metaphor.

It’s not as though she’s a stranger to underaged drinking when she’s friends with a supernatural cast that threw underground drinking and skinny dipping parties every month, but the sounds and the smells are so much worse in a frat party where the topic of boys and showering is questionable.

She’s 5 minutes away from regretting every choice of being here and about two hours into an all-night party when Enid leaves to the front yard for some fresh air.

The sight that greets her is another girl sitting at the corner of the frat house by herself, one leg hanging off the rim of the stone ledge. She’s dressed in all-black and if the wooden post behind her wasn’t plain white, she would have blended in entirely. The other girl stares into the distance like she’s waiting for something.

“Are you okay?” Enid asks.

The other girl turns to her casually. Enid recognizes her from a girl in her sociology class but she doesn’t talk much. Just a little bit, she reminds her of Wednesday if she had green eyes, put her hair down, and humored the idea of wearing bedazzled skinny jeans.

(Holy shit, she missed Wednesday so much.)

“Yeah, just chillin’. Waiting this shithole out until my roommate is piss drunk enough that I can take her home without her complaining.”

Enid laughs because she feels like she’s doing the same at this point with her friends. “Sounds like a blast. Do you mind having company?”

The brunette girl shrugs but prompts her to sit opposite of her while she sits up. “So what’s your name and what’s your story, cutie?”

“No story. Just Enid, just a girl,” she replies with a smile at the nickname. “You?”

“No story, my ass,” Phoebe chuckles, confusing Enid until she points at her hands. Her claws have been coming in and out without her realizing, probably because of the light buzz (or the disgusting frat boys trying to touch her all night). Nonetheless, the girl introduces herself. “Phoebe.”

Enid nods awkwardly.

“Alright, Just Enid, you don’t have to tell me your story,” Phoebe says like she’s detecting her discomfort. A small smirk makes it to her lips as she does, “Whatever it is, or whatever you are, just know werewolves are my favorite type of danger.”

Enid smiles, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Their conversation goes on for almost an hour. They talk about plenty of things, like how they’re in the same sociology class and what their majors are. Enid discovers she’s majoring Software Development with a minor in Sociology and Outcast History, which is an interesting mixture of studies that Enid doesn’t mention but finds the irony in comparison to her best friend that this girl reminds her of.

Phoebe explains she wants to develop an app that changes how the world sees Outcasts, one small thing at a time, so normies can meet outcasts in the middle because her best friend in middle school was a werewolf too and had to move because of the prejudice. She’s never seen her since. Enid knows all too well what that’s like.

Then Phoebe gets a text with the worst kind of word jumble that either have ever seen. Phoebe sighs something under her breath, “That’s my cue.”

“Oh,” Enid mutters. “Well, I guess I should check in on my friends too.”

Phoebe gives a lazy hand out to shake that Enid clumsily reciprocates. Their fingers are cold, probably because they’ve been sitting outside for the last hour, and she doesn’t know how long Phoebe’s been out here.

The handshake lasts longer than one would usually go for but neither of them let go. Eventually, it brings out a laugh out of the other girl and they let go.

Phoebe doesn’t move yet, fingering a piece of undone threading from her shirt. “Could I, maybe— do you— Shit, okay.” Phoebe takes out her phone again and hands it to her. “Could I have your number? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I liked talking to you.”

Without hesitating, “Absolutely.”

After that, they separate. Enid tries to focus on locating her friends but finds herself watching.

Phoebe catches her sight as she ambles out the door with a girl’s arm over her shoulder. Phoebe gives her a wave, a short linger, before she disappears out the door.

It takes 20 minutes to locate all her friends playing Truth or Dare with a ouija board upstairs and another 10 to convince them to close the gate and stop playing with ghosts.

( Ugh , seriously, she knows these things are no joke after she and the Nightshades accidentally summoned a demon once. Wednesday and Bianca had to join hands—literally—to figure out how to get it back to where it came before the faulty found out. Explaining why the two had to hold hands for a whole day was really weird and totally traumatizing for them both.)

A text comes to her while she’s driving back with her friends, breaking through her thoughts.

The unknown number appearing doesn’t tell her much, but she hasn’t made it a habit to quickly share her number since that stalker debacle in Nevermore. When she finally opens the message, it could only be one person. She can tell who it is just from how the way they speak translates to the way they type.

Enid realizes that she doesn’t regret the night after all.

–

Spring break of her first year in university is not a particularly fun affair. She’s already established very quickly that she doesn’t like the college party scene. But she also can’t afford a ticket home because her part-time job barely covers her groceries with the leftovers that are used to pay dues for her studio bedroom, which sucks as a growing wolf. She can imagine her mother’s nagging about it not being a problem if she had just studied a little closer to home.

Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

What bothers Enid most is because she hasn’t heard a word from Wednesday since she had to bail on their meeting the fourth time because her work schedule had changed at the last minute, and she didn’t have the money to refuse the extra shift.

She hopes that Wednesday doesn’t think wrong of her. Enid knows the darker girl wouldn’t, probably, but now she just feels so awkward about it!

Enid taps her thumb over Wednesday’s message box and slowly tries to type something.

‘ Hello roomie!! Or ex-roomie, i guess we’re not room ’

‘ Wednesday, did you hear about the ’

‘ It might be a bit weird since i had to bail the first few times but do you wanna hang out? it’s spring break!!! ’

Enid goes through all the ways she can message the other girl back but nothing feels like enough to make up for the times she had to put their friendship on the backburner.

Now that she has time and it’s spring break, she just doesn’t know how to go about it anymore.

What if something else comes up? Like if Wednesday is busy doing something? Or if she gets another work call? Or goddess, what if Wednesday is, like, halfway to Barcelona because of her family’s spontaneity?

Enid types something that she thinks is tame enough to be a good starter and takes a deep breath as she hovers her thumb over the send button. She closes her eyes, tapping once and then closing the app before locking her phone.

She groans at how awkward she feels, deflating against the couch. She’s really not sure about why she feels this way because she’s never felt this way about texting Wednesday before. But she has to give credit where it’s due since this is also the first time she’s left Wednesday hanging for such a long time that she doesn’t know how Wednesday will react. Now she just has to wait.

“If that groaning isn’t because of me, I don’t wanna hear it,” someone says from behind her, cold arms hugging her neck despite the building warmth of spring in a comforting manner. Enid doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Phoebe but leans into her touch and lets out a puff. “Alright, who are we fighting?”

“No one. I’m just texting a friend. I’ve been so busy with classes and work and socializing and y’know, stuff —”

“ Ha! I’m stuff, right?”

Enid hits her lightly which gets her to apologize without having to break her thought. “—that I’ve had to keep canceling and now it’s weird. I dunno if she’ll ever talk to me again because of it.”

Phoebe lets out a sound of disapproval and walks around to sit on Enid’s lap, knees straddling her hips. She drags a smooth nail under her chin, guiding Enid to look up at her. With 6 months of dating under their belt and Enid being the affectionate wolf that she usually is, she melts right into the touch.

“I’d fight her.”

Enid chuckles. “I would prefer if you didn’t. I’m not sure you’d win; she fought an undead pilgrim and won, y’know?”

“That’s pretty badass, I’ll give her that. But you’re mine and no one hurts what’s mine.” Phoebe leans down so their foreheads touch.

With those words, Enid feels a sense of protectiveness in her girlfriend, endearing her entirely even if it sounds like a death wish. She loves her girlfriend, but even she couldn’t say the two were on equal ground in a fight.

“Okay, Fearless, I won’t let you hear the end of it if you lose.”

“But you’ll take care of me if I do, right?” Enid offers her a peck for the words in agreement before Phoebe pulls away to look at her again. “Seriously though, E. If she doesn’t appreciate or realize that some people can be busy and shit happens, it’s not worth it to chase after her.”

That doesn’t really make her feel better but Enid gives her a half-smile. “Don’t say that. You don’t know her. She wouldn’t think like that.”

“Well, if you say so, but something is making you think that and it isn’t this conversation,” Phoebe says.

With that, silence engulfs them while they embrace. The quiet gives her thoughts the stage, speaking louder than the pitched hum of ambience in the room.

Maybe Wednesday lost her phone, or changed her number and had forgotten to tell her? Or maybe her loveable, rascal little brothers took it for a prank? That’s totally on brand for the siblings and the darker girl isn’t exactly attuned to using the phone enough that she wouldn’t be surprised of either outcome, but it still bothers her.

Whatever it is, Enid decides she’d forgive her for it.

Then, Phoebe moves her hand behind the werewolf’s neck and drags her attention from a spiral with the slight tug of the baby hairs. Phoebe’s lips hover over her ear, tickling it with her low timbre. “Wanna do something to distract you?”

Enid inquires, her hands holding her by the waist. “Depends on what you have in mind?”

Phoebe shuffles away awkwardly after a kiss under her jaw, standing with a smirk.

“I’ll let you choose,” is the only thing she says before airily prancing away.

Enid finds herself successfully pulled out of her mind as she gapes in playful incredulity before chasing after her girlfriend.

Her phone remains silent the whole night.

–

A year has passed. It’s been almost two years since they graduated from Nevermore, but February 10th turns out to be the first of many things.

It is the first time Enid travels in a rickety old bus to New Hampshire, and the first time she’ll see her Nightshade girls all together in a long time since they split for university. She’s seen one or two of them occasionally here and there but never together. Almost nothing beats the unleashed feeling of running and tackling them in a hug without holding back for fear of tumbling over.

Enid and the girls have all gathered at a nondescript bookstore somewhere in the state, waiting for the secretive renowned author of the Viper book series to reveal themselves for the first time. She hasn’t really read the books but the other girls have, and Phoebe is the biggest fan she’s ever seen.

With Phoebe being a fan of the series like the others and bugging Enid to meet them almost obsessively, there’s no discussion on what should happen. In fact, it makes the gathering all too perfect a chance to introduce her girlfriend to everyone face-to-face for the first time too.

(Well, almost everyone.)

The common ground helps Phoebe and the girls bond, much to Enid’s satisfaction as they babble on and on about their favorite parts and which one is the best book.

To the side, Enid and Divina idly chatter about other things they haven’t mentioned since the last time they talked but wow , it really just isn’t the same when you have to guess the tone. Divina’s story about Kent making his fraternity think they drowned him in a hazing was way funnier out loud.

Just in the corner of her eyes, she spots someone familiar but doesn’t think anything of it until that figure comes closer. She pins them down with a straight stare because she knows she’d recognize the splatter of freckles on their small face anywhere but not the silhouette.

Wednesday comes through the crowd the way she usually does, like a dark, brooding modern-ish version of Moses splitting the sea.

Her hair is down with flowing beautiful black curls, no longer in its usual braids, but still as long as it always was. Her eyes are still a little sunken in from the lack of sleep, which she characteristically doesn’t care enough to cover. She’s grown a little into the idea of color as little touches of maroon and navy blue pepper on her clothes, though they are still mostly a deathly black.

She’s changed so much more than Enid expected but there was really no changing the aura a member of the Addams family carries around themselves. The muscles on Enid’s face break a smile at the sight of her bestest friend. “Wednesday!”

All the other girls turn instantly, also brightening at the sight of their old friend. With this, Wednesday has no choice but to come over. Enid can already tell she’s exasperated when she sighs and walks towards them, but she smiles in relief at Wednesday who seems like she’s still the same person since that day at Nevermore.

Wednesday is as awkward as she always has been, giving purposely stilted answers just because she can. All she tells them is that she’s here for the book signing like they are. The girls are glad to have something in common with Wednesday finally after the darker one keeps rejecting the acknowledgement of their shared hobbies.

Subtly, Phoebe holds Enid’s hand tightly, dragging her back to the present and reminding her of where she is and who she’s with. Phoebe stares her down with a level of unappreciation that harbors guilt within her for forgetting about her totally when she’s holding her hand.

To rectify it, she puts a hand on Wednesday’s arm to steal her mind from the girls’ ramble about the book. Wednesday’s attention becomes undivided on her instantly at the touch.

Something inside Enid shakes. Inside, a part of her quivers to the point she feels like she might lose her breakfast.

She smiles and grips Phoebe's hand tighter, pulling her girlfriend in towards her. “This is my girlfriend, Phoebe. Be nice to her?”

Wednesday looks at Phoebe stoically in a way that even Enid can’t tell what her thoughts are exactly. Not knowing what Wednesday is thinking or how she’ll react to her being a lesbian and having a girlfriend makes everything inside her twist uncomfortably. The state of discomfort reminds Enid all too much of the fact that Wednesday never responded to her messages.

But Wednesday nods and greets herself to the other girl amicably without a threat towards her like it’s nothing, easing her worries. She even shakes her hand, surprisingly.

Before long, their time ends because Wednesday says she has to go even though the book sign is about to start. Wednesday doesn’t explain and disappears in the crowd, leaving them with the air of mystery as she always does.

While it’s normal for the girls to wave and say goodbye at Wednesday’s cryptic ways, Enid can’t help but feel disappointed to be treated the same as the others, and even worse, to forget asking for her contact.

But of course, Wednesday has always been a sneaky, deceitful little trickster under all her darkness as she watches the girl step to the podium introducing herself under her pseudonym not 5 minutes later.

Enid hears the girls next to her whispering in disbelief. Bianca, on the other hand, prompts Wednesday to smirk victoriously when the siren hisses humorously loud enough to be heard with a “ Are you fucking kidding me? ”

Wednesday goes on to read the first chapter of the new addition to the Viper series in her languid monotone, yet still captivating voice.

Enid couldn’t explain the feeling she had while listening to the other woman enrapture the crowd but she finds she can’t take her eyes away from her at all.

‘ Beautiful ’ is the only thing echoing in Enid’s mind. Again and again and again.

The other girls are nice about it when Enid asks to go first. Mostly because they know her relationship with Wednesday was one of a kind at Nevermore, while hiding behind the tease that it might help them if Enid could temper any pre-existing tantrums that Wednesday might throw first.

Enid takes her chance the moment it’s her turn in line, giving her a book of a series she hasn’t even read and asking Wednesday what her new number might be, because logically, that’s the better reason why she wouldn’t respond, right?

Wednesday’s eyes twitch at the question. “I’ve never changed it.”

Stunned, Enid’s eyes crease, confused. She doesn’t know what to feel about that information.

A wave of rejection washes over her, leaving her mind spiraling and her body feeling cold and hot all at once. What does that mean then if Wednesday never responded to her text? Does that mean Wednesday didn’t want to be friends anymore? Or moved on from the two of them? Did she find someone else?

Maybe her brothers took it after all? But wouldn’t she have said anything if that was the case?

She barely realizes that Wednesday has handed her the signed book and called for the next person when she’s escorted away by a staff member.

Enid could hardly feel the weight of the novel as she left Wednesday’s makeshift sign room.

A few minutes later, Phoebe comes through the veil right behind her, looking like nothing could break the shroud of her happiness. But when she peers up at Enid, her smile fading in the next beat.

Phoebe cups Enid’s face tenderly, asking her if she’s okay.

Though the pit continues to dig in her mind, Phoebe’s touch grounds her. Looking into Phoebe’s green eyes soothes the pain a little too.

Since they’ve met, Phoebe has been there for her when she needed it. She was there to lessen her burden when she had a meltdown and stopped caring for herself, overwhelmed with school and work.

She was there to take care of her when she came out to her parents and it didn’t end well, resulting in their lost support and many crying nights.

She was there to soothe her hurt when thoughts of that night many years ago came back every now and then.

The ache that manufactured itself into Enid’s heart from Wednesday’s absence was different from losing her parents. Her absence was grand when these moments happened and made her wish even more for the girl’s re-entrance into her life.

Wednesday, who was in the trenches of trauma with her when it first happened. Wednesday, who knew the pain so much more intimately than anyone else and knew what she needed without saying anything. Wednesday, who Enid had put second. Wednesday, who never messaged back, clearly for a reason.

Now the friendship felt irreparable.

Phoebe has been there for Enid when it felt like the end of the world, like an irreplaceable warmth for anything bad that happened.

It was love, total love. It was the kind of love she was missing for so long that day she graduated from Nevermore, and that day when she lost her family. The kind of love born from darkness.

Inside, her heart thrashes still but she puts on a smile because even if Enid’s head drowns in the dark, Phoebe is here.

(Her girlfriend, her love, her safety net.)

Because love can still be found in a bad place.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

Chapter Text

After that day at the bookstore, things between Enid and Phoebe changed a little. Not in a particularly bad way, but the first one and a half weeks were a little bit… much.

Phoebe is usually good with balancing when Enid is in need of help of some kind after one incident that almost got her “removed” from the student roster.  But now… Phoebe obsesses a little more about her and the people she spends time with, which is endearing to a point but super overbearing when she starts holding it against her closest friends too.

Okay. It doesn’t help that she doesn’t really tell her the full reason why she basically shut down in public that day, which is something she hasn’t done in a long time since Nevermore. She wants Wednesday to be in her good graces just as anyone else. Not crushing Phoebe’s already glowing reviews of her after finding out she’s her favorite author is a good place to start.

But, well, she has to admit that backfired a little since every relationship has become a casualty.

In her defense, Phoebe isn’t very restrained when it comes to making her thoughts physically known. Enid still remembers her girlfriend flying in with a crunchy uppercut when another werewolf’s claws got a little too close to her face over a meager territory issue. She realized that Phoebe’s half-joke about fighting Wednesday was a very real promise that time if her opponent being a werewolf wasn’t a cause for hesitation.

So really, she’s kind of saving Phoebe because Wednesday always has at least 8 hidden weapons on her at all times, and she can become just as unhinged when provoked, if not more.

That said, all of that comes to a crescendo when Phoebe insists on following her to the forests during the full moon as well and that’s a far more dangerous venture than she’s aware of it being when some of the werewolves of the forest don’t respect trespassers—werewolf, normie, or elsewise—unless they’ve “proven their worth.” (Whatever the hell that meant.)

But Phoebe is an idiot about it anyway. She should have known. Even when she knows it’s not her fault, the guilt of not trying harder to get her to stay sits deeply in her heart.

Enid still remembers that night when she smelled blood in the forest and found Phoebe with the maw of a young werewolf in her arm and ankle stuck in a pothole. Enid was worried out of her mind when she saw how uncontrolled the young werewolf was, probably having barely turned and judging by how small he was.

So when the ambulance had arrived, she held absolutely no shame in being seen naked when she forcefully shifted back to a human. (After all, it’s totally not the first, second, or even third time it’s happened when Wednesday Addams was your best friend and roommate. Being a Blood Wolf can rock sometimes .)

The incident and the hospital ride after left Phoebe partially on bed rest. Enid could not be more thankful that Phoebe took it as a karmic warning without Enid having to say more about following her to the woods from that day forward, but she’s still sitting in bed with her foot in a cast and arm in stitches so she has yet to see that hold any water.

So that leads her to now, three weeks after the bookstore and one week since Phoebe’s incident.

Driving to Phoebe’s shared apartment is nothing more than 15 minutes away from her studio room, but an easy 25 with traffic. She makes it with good time to spare before they have to head over to the hospital for the reckless girl’s first checkup.

When she arrives at the parking garage of Phoebe’s apartment, she flicks open Phoebe’s massage box and types something to her girlfriend to let her know she’s here and about to head up soon.

But when she rings the doorbell and waits for some feedback, nothing happens.

When there’s no reaction to either her ringing or from the Ring camera installed, Enid begins to feel a little worried that Phoebe has slept through her alarms — again. She sends another text and allows another few minutes before the call button is pressed on her girlfriend’s contact.

Surprisingly, the answer is immediate.

“ Hey, Love! Miss me already? ” Phoebe explodes with enthusiasm at the call.

Enid smiles a little at hearing her girlfriend’s excitement. “Always, Reckless. Did you sleep through your alarm?”

“ No, why? ”

Enid squints her eyes a little with amusement, bending over to tap on the Ring camera as if her girlfriend could see her through it. “Okay, let me change the question then: did you forget I was coming over?”

“ Wait, you’re at my place? I thought you were having lunch with friends today? ”

Enid’s face twists, checking the time with her watch. “No, B, that’s tomorrow. Today is your checkup.”

“ Shit, I’m so sorry, Enid. I thought— I’m… I’m already at the hospital. ” Phoebe says hesitantly.

‘ Wait what? ’ Enid stands up straight. “How did you get there? You’re not supposed to be driving with one foot.”

“ I didn’t! I had help! ”

“Uh okay, did Kat drop you off?” That would make the most sense since the roommate hasn’t responded to her ringing the bell either and that girl is always awake until ungodly times or never sleeping. (Enid’s convinced she’s basically a vampire.)

“ No, not Kat, she had to work today. ”

Enid nods with confusion because if not Kat, Phoebe’s roommate, then who? None of Phoebe’s friends are morning people unless it involves free food. Even then, they aren’t really great company in the morning. She lets out an affirmative sound to let her know she’s still listening. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was it?”

“ Haha, bite— good one . Um, okay, so you remember that werewolf that uh, did all this? So, it turns out I know him and he’s Cora’s baby brother who just turned recently… I talked about my childhood friend, right? ”

“Yeah, your friend that moved away. You mean, she lives here?”

“ Mhm, just moved like a town over! Small world, right? Anyway, she found out and she offered to drive me and treat me to brunch as an apology and a thank you for not suing the hell out of Evan .”

The more Phoebe explains, Enid starts feeling a particular way about it. From the explanation, that means that Cora is likely present for the conversation and she isn’t sure how she felt about that either. “Wow, that’s…”

“ Great, right? I guess there’s a silver lining for everything. I wish it didn’t have to come with the stitches and broken foot though. ”

Enid blinks. She earnestly is happy for her girlfriend, really. Hell, she knew the euphoria of meeting an old friend again after so long even if her joy was temporary—case in point, Wednesday—so she’s not… displeased about that . But… a little heads up would be nice. And she would have thought that Phoebe would have wanted her there after getting hurt and being so insistent about who she was with.

It’s hard to hide the sadness when Enid sighs and her arm makes it around her torso. “Not that I’m not happy for you, babe, but why didn’t you call me about the change of plans?”

When Phoebe hears the dejection in her voice, she goes quiet too. “ Well, I… I thought you were busy hanging out with your friends today and I didn’t wanna ruin your plans and be clingy like before …”

“B, I never said you were clingy,” Enid says, voice softening. “Besides, you’re my girlfriend. Why would I care more about a silly lunch when you’re in stitches and limping on one foot?”

“ I mean, I just realized I was being a maniac about your relationships and you’ve been spending so much time at my place taking care of me on top of everything, and midterms in a few weeks. It wasn’t fair to you so… y’know…? I wanted to give you some time to yourself. ”

Somewhat understanding Phoebe’s feelings on it, Enid knows she would probably think the same if she were in her shoes. Actually, if Phoebe wasn’t hurt and the checkup hadn’t been on her schedule for weeks, Enid knows she’d be ultimately thankful for it. “ I get it, but you can rely on me for these kinds of things too. You know that.”

Phoebe makes an apologetic sound. Enid knows that if they were FaceTiming instead, Phoebe would look like a hurt animal. “ I’m so sorry, Love. Really. I’ll be better about it next time. ”

At this point, there’s no point to stand outside Phoebe’s apartment like she’s been kicked out as she heads back to the parking structure.

The quiet between both sides almost makes it seem like the call has already ended. If Enid didn’t still have the phone up to her ear, the only thing that would let her know that they’re still connected is the time ticking up.

When she closes the door to the old Toyota sedan she got for cheap out of pity from the seller, a soft unfamiliar voice makes herself known. “ Hey um… I’m sorry if I overstepped or something by doing this. I didn’t mean to .”

“No, it’s okay. Seriously, I’m… I’m not mad. I’m actually glad you guys got to reconnect. Everyone would have a happy reunion if I was in charge.” And that’s the truth. With the both of them having their respective reunions, one of them deserved a happy ending at least.

“ If you’re sure… Oh, and you’re welcome to join us for brunch too. It’s not exclusive. I’d love to meet the blessed soul that’s brave enough to date this loser .”

There’s a rustle on the other line indicating that something was hit or pushed. “ I’ll have you know, this bad bitch has taken down a werewolf before .”

Enid holds back the temptation to mention that she’s also broken her hand when she did. Nevertheless, Enid starts the car and responds. “Yeah, I’d love that. I can still be there in like 30 minutes for moral support too?”

Her girlfriend re-enters the conversation with a hum, a little more heartened. “ That’s perfect if you don’t mind catching the tail end of the appointment! …Get it, tail end? ” Enid rolls her eyes at the joke. She’s very heartened if she’s already making a pun. “ Ow! I’m in stitches, Cora! ”

“ Not on that arm ,” Cora speaks up.

“Honestly, you deserve another pinch for that joke,” Enid whispers as a joke.

“ Say no more! ” Cora says, surprising Enid that her microphone picked it up, followed by Phoebe crying out again.

“ Hey, stop! You haven’t even met and you’re already teaming me! ”

Enid laughs, feeling the mood lighten. “Okay, I’ll be there before you can say another offensive pun.”

“ Please, I can’t stand her ,” Cora bemoans jokingly.

“ And that’s why you’re sitting. Ow! The only way I’ll be silenced is with a kiss! The clock is ticking, Love! Drive safe! ”

Enid giggles and promises to be there soon as the call ends.

When it comes down to it, Enid finds that Cora is extremely easy to get along with when she finally meets her. 

What with their shared status as werewolves and finding out that they’ve shared a couple of core classes and hobbies, what’s there not to like? It helps that she and Cora were sworn in together with a small collection of other werewolves at the start of their time here too.

So before the day ends, her friendship count goes up by one but despite that, she finds herself still missing someone else.

–

Midterms are hell week.

That’s been Enid’s philosophy about school for years. Sure, it’s a little more manageable in university but it still sucks .

Seriously, who assigns a 10-page essay on top of an in-person test for a midterm? For underclassmen?! Did she accidentally skip the part that she had to get a degree first and skipped right into a doctorate?

Well, whatever it is, Enid hates where it leads her, which is usually tired out of her mind. Sleep never feels like enough. Don’t even talk to her about the time it aligned with the full moon . (Don’t talk to her about her procrastination technique either.)

This midterm finds her staying up at an impossible time again.

It’s literally 1 in the morning when she realizes she needs a book from her bookshelf to study for her exam. Luckily, somehow she’s finished the essay portion of this forsaken class on time but the exam portion is its own beast.

Groaning, she gets up lazily as she turns her head to look at her bed longingly but shuffles over to her bookshelf.

The shelf itself isn’t that big but it’s taut with various textbooks that she’s kept over the years that she finds fascinating.

Slowly, her eyes follow and linger on one book that stands out amongst its taller hardback peers. The cover of Wednesday’s Viper novel sticks out like a sore thumb in its all-blackness with the silver logo and title.

Speaking of which, there isn’t a lot to say about the status of her friendship with Wednesday.

The psychic’s admittance that her number had never changed, yet not answering her messages, did something to her psyche. There was no need for any mental somersaults looking for a reason why when she knows that getting bailed on sucks a huge load, let alone 4 times. Wednesday must have just gotten tired of it and she really can’t blame her for it.

Though it was hard to adjust to the realization, Enid isn’t afraid to admit it takes four weeks since the bookstore episode until her exuberant positivity pulls her out of her misery to move on. The supportive comments from Phoebe, the Nightshades, and surprisingly Cora make it easier too.

If contact isn’t what Wednesday wants anymore, Enid doesn’t really have a say in it. She’ll make peace with it until the other girl is open to it again but she’s still sad about the idea that her message may remain unread when she does finally send the message.

Enid shakes her head to find her focus again. She has other things to worry about at the moment.

Then something shocking happens. It’s not so much as the action that shocks her but what she discovers in the aftermath of it.

Wednesday’s autographed book plummets over her bookshelf while she’s pulling on the book she means to take. The reflexes in her to catch it have already left when the small hand on her clock passed midnight. All that is left is the exhaustion clinging to her limbs and asking for her to fall asleep standing up.

At least, this makes for a great wake-up call when the fumbling slap hits the ground, causing her to jump and curse before it hits her toes.

And when she looks down, the inner cover falls open, revealing a 10-digit phone number with the note ‘ in case you’ve forgotten ’ in silver ink.

To say Enid was surprised is an understatement. The note is exactly what crumbles her well-crafted thoughts that Wednesday isn’t interested in friendship anymore. It’s perfectly what she needed to get over her fear about texting Wednesday, but with her exam coming up in 7 hours on top of picking Phoebe up later, her time is extremely limited for this.

She stares at the number, remembering it in place of facts about anthropology and philosophy, and realizes it’s still the same number that Wednesday had while at Nevermore. Something about that annoys her now because it would have been better if Wednesday had a new number altogether. Save her the hurt, you know?

So she puts the book and cover down and trudges back to her coffee table of haphazardly open books and notes. She sits bitterly reading through words and processing almost nothing about the information for 55 minutes before she finally gives up because all she can think about is messaging Wednesday.

And boy is she glad she did.

While her last message sits in a speech bubble—sent but never read—she isn’t sure what to type. Eventually, she decides that simple is best.

Wednesday would probably appreciate that, right?

‘ Hey, Wednesday! :) I saw your note! ’ She winces at how generic she sounds and expects an answer either days from now, or no answer at all, but it doesn’t take as long as Enid thinks for Wednesday to respond back.

In fact, it takes a lot shorter of a time than she expected, remembering Wednesday’s habits.

It takes no more than 10 minutes for the first message back, with Wednesday commenting about how late it is in her usual biting tone.

When asked about the quick replies, Wednesday asserts that it’s because her work makes it essential for her to check once every four hours; no more, no less. Especially now that she’s gaining attention from the masses and doing things for her book tour, timeliness is of utmost importance. But it’s 2AM now and she always answers within 10 minutes that Enid sends something back and honestly, that’s so cute of her.

Everything kicks off exactly like nothing happened. She can hear Wednesday’s response in her usual dead tone. The way she writes is just so uniquely her that she couldn’t think that it was anyone else. It’s nice to know that the girl still doesn’t care about disabling read receipts.

They’re back to their simple back and forths, and occasional callous remarks from Wednesday which she means positively in the most roundabout way possible.

A part of Enid is glad for the familiarity, though the question of what happened niggles in her brain. She nearly regrets it when she sends her last message—‘ Can I call you? ’—which is a little ominous, but how in the world can she start prep for the conversation?

The message sits read. Wednesday doesn’t respond back.

She thinks she blew it when an old back-angled picture of Wednesday with a black and white checkered beret she knitted for her in their senior year pops up on her screen with the “Accept” or “Decline” buttons. There’s no question which one she presses.

“ Hello, Enid. ”

Her heart stutters at hearing Wednesday again. She heard her say her name that day at the bookstore, but there’s a lighter tone now, one that’s different when they’re not around people.

“Hey,” Enid says lamely.

“ I apologize, I had to excuse myself first. What urgency do you have that requires us to call this late? ”

“Oh, sorry. What were you doing?”

“ Pubert wanted practice hanging Pugsley from the fourth floor balcony .”

“Ah. At two in the morning?”

“ Pugsley likes the suntan once the sun comes up .”

The short conversation kind of kills her nerves a little around the topic thankfully before she approaches it. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.” When Wednesday doesn’t say anything, she takes it as quiet permission to keep going. She imagines Wednesday giving her a look to keep going even though there’s a frog in her throat. “Why… why did you never respond to my messages?”

With that, the silence comes and it lasts too long. “ I… what messages, Enid? ”

Enid’s face twists in confusion, almost insulted. “I sent you messages, I even called you once but you never responded or answered any of them.”

“ When was this? ”

“Last year. Almost to the week. I— I sent you something during spring break and you never said anything back.”

“ You must be mistaken. The last message I have from you was just before the Winter Solstice. I presumed you were too busy to talk. ”

“What? But— that doesn’t make sense. It’s still the same number.”

“ … You are right. It doesn’t. I don’t understand any more about this thing than the last time we spoke but I swear on Great Aunt Calpurnia’s ashes that I have never seen these messages you speak of .” Wednesday says resolutely. Enid knows how grave that vow is because of how much of the stormy girl adored that woman. It still doesn’t make sense what happened.

When she doesn’t say anything back for a while, Wednesday speaks up again, seeming a little subdued, “ Enid, I promise you I would never leave you waiting for my response .”

“Okay, I believe you,” Enid settles with this but she can’t help but tease the monochrome girl. “You’ve never been good at lying to me.”

“ How insulting, wolf. Two years have made you arrogant .” That gets her to smile and laugh.

Suddenly, a ruckus roars on the other side of the call. She hears Wednesday’s tone change again, in her usual unfriendly monotone way to whoever has entered Wednesday’s space. Then, she’s back to her. “ I must go. If it helps to lay your worries to rest, we can discuss more in the morning .”

With that the call ends with Enid’s half-hearted agreement, because she really has to get back to studying. (Not that she feels like doing it any more than she did before.) Enid sits there, wondering how things came to be and wishing that neither of them didn’t have to go. She’d even be content with Wednesday keeping the call going just so that she knew she was there.

She has to admit though, that she feels like the whole world has opened up again. Breathing is a little easier with a regained friendship. Though the question of what might have happened for her messages never to come through continues to bounce in her mind, it doesn’t beat the elation she’s feeling.

With the things Wednesday said, it was her word that she was telling the truth and Enid had no reason to doubt that unless the girl had become that much more sly and hurtful. Which, god, she hopes not. That would really suck and she wouldn’t be able to stop anyone from putting Wednesday on their figurative hit list. And she’s already on a ton of them, Nightshades included.

Enid spends the entire rest of the time sending messages and waiting for responses back, mind half-in, half-out about studying until she has to get ready to pick her one able footed girlfriend from her apartment.

When morning comes and the exam passes, Enid isn’t sure how she could be awake or if she’s even passed the exam, but she feels more alive than she’s ever been.

–

It took a few days before Enid brought up the courage to ask about meeting up. Given her obvious track record of not following through, Wednesday might be apprehensive of it and she really wouldn’t blame her if that’s true.

But asking Wednesday to meet up was as easy as… lighting fire to a forest, Addams style? The conversation was short and pointed with no space for Enid to doubt her choice. With Wednesday’s East Coast book tour coming to a close in a couple of weeks, the best time to meet would be when she’s heading back down.

And that’s simply perfect if Enid knew where they could go.

She hasn’t been to many places outside of work, classes, the occasional hike in the forests for some peace of mind, and the even rarer house party. Because, well, busy… duh? She didn’t realize her social life had declined so steeply.

It took a few searches, and some suggestions from another friend from Journalism, before she was reminded of a small women’s only club that she went to about an hour away. Though it’s described as a women’s only night club, it’s more like a secret barcade for women (queer outcast women especially). With a membership and a vouch, it’s an easy entrance.

Enid has been here exactly once to test the waters of her newfound identity as a lesbian. She barely even remembers how she got access, but she knows it’s downlow enough that Wednesday would like it. Quiet mostly and fancy enough to be within her Addams taste.

Wednesday agreed readily when Enid sent her the details and set the date for the meeting like she didn’t even need to look at it, which is kind of nice but also slightly concerning considering how Wednesday liked to be prepared before accepting anything.

Enid decided that this time , nothing was going to stop her from meeting the other girl. Not work, not classes, literally not anything. Whoever needed her was going to have to speak after the dial tone. She couldn’t afford to put Wednesday on a loop again. She was not going to be that person .

But unfortunately it seems nothing was going to change the fact that the person that she was always going to be is late.

She even leaves one and a half hours early because Friday night is Friday night. And traffic is always a nightmare on Fridays and always at night.

The drive makes it too fun of a time to humble her estimations when she finds herself sitting in 10 mile per hour traffic in the last two miles. The first thing she does is text Wednesday about the traffic and send her a picture, which the other responds, ‘ Killer traffic .’

Enid almost laughs at the uncharacteristic comedic response but feels relief when Wednesday follows up to tell her that she’s in a similar situation so she knows she’s not waiting. There’s no picture but Enid’s not surprised that Wednesday refuses to employ the option after finding out that sometimes pictures can record your GPS location.

When she gets to the women’s club, she fumbles putting on a comfortable pair of low heels and hopes desperately that she’s there first, looking for twin braids.

She’s not.

But she gets to see Wednesday before Wednesday sees her and Enid forgot that the other woman isn’t in twin braids anymore. Wednesday is dressed in a maroon-colored turtleneck that hugs her enough to accentuate her stature and slimness, topped with a black open cape coat and black pants to complement.

The darker woman is standing straight and refusing the notion of leaning against something because ‘people are too comfortable with leaning on everything’ (a true Wednesday statement she remembers from years ago) when she finally spots Enid. Nothing on her face gives any indication that she’s happy to be here but if Enid’s still decent on the language of Wednesday Addams, she’s been anticipating her as well.

Enid closes the distance, “Howdy.”

“Hello, Enid.”

A burst of something lights up in Enid’s chest. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Wednesday nods, indicating her to lead the way.

When Enid pulls out a small membership card which she renewed just for today, she turns to see Wednesday prop her eyebrows just slightly enough to garner interest.

Enid isn’t extravagant enough to continue a membership to a place she doesn’t go to. Not by a long shot. But she is the person who introduced the space to Wednesday and she’s determined to make the best of the other girl’s impression of the place somehow.

The music rumbles quietly as only a few people are on the floor, looking like the night’s earliest fools. It's still early in the night, which Enid knows will only get louder as the night progresses.

They take a seat at the corner of the bar while Wednesday trails from behind.

Neither of them say anything substantial until their drinks are ordered and delivered to them. Enid feels the buzz as soon as the bitter yet sweet taste touches the buds on her tongue.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Enid says, feeling stupid awkward when their texts are so much smoother. She leans into her palm. “You’ve changed.”

“Almost two years to be exact,” Wednesday says, tracing her finger over the lip of her glass with her eyes pinned on Enid like a prowler.

“Two years!” The number still blows Enid out of the water because, yeah , it’s been almost two years. More like a year and like three-fourths? But that’s so much time lost between them, so much miscommunication (or lack of it).

The buzz in her doesn’t let her mourn it again when it clicks to her that Wednesday has published three books in the two years they haven’t seen each other. “Two years and you didn’t tell me you got published! How long has it been since the first book was published? We could have celebrated!”

Wednesday has a particular look on her face that she remembers seeing that day at the bookstore. She doesn’t really know what this face means. Specifically, she’s never seen the other girl make this face before (ever!). No matter its subtlety, Enid can just feel the difference. “I suppose we could have.”

Enid pouts a little. “You really have changed. Like, you’re still the same. I see it in the way you talk and walk, y’know? That part hasn’t changed, but there’s just something to you that’s different. Elegant maybe, mature as always, and I dunno, something else?”

“Perhaps it comes with the misfortune of being under my mother’s tutelage.”

Enid smiles, remembering her kooky family. “And color? What prompted that change?”

“Nothing that should be of concern,” Wednesday says. “I thought you’d be overjoyed to see myself in such debauchery.”

“Oh, believe me. I am, but I’m also super surprised!” Enid laughed. “It almost makes me wonder if you have someone to impress .”

Wednesday gives her a displeased glare, but it doesn’t stop Enid. “Don’t be ridiculous, Enid.”

“Don’t be shy , Wednesday. It’s okay if you have someone you like in your sights,” Enid teases, rubbing her arm lightly against Wednesday enough to jostle her just a tiny bit.

Wednesday purses her lips, “The only one I see is you.”

“Oh don’t be like that, you know exactly what I mean,” Enid giggles, flattered. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look pretty in color too.”

“Yes, well… to be dressed in the blood of my enemies has always been a look I vie for.”

“You did not dye this with blood.”

“You dare question my character?”

“I don’t question it; I know it,” Enid says with confidence. She brushes a hand on Wednesday’s sleeved arm to make a point. “It wouldn’t be this soft if it was otherwise.”

Wednesday says nothing in return and sips at her drink. Enid smirks at the win and gives her the mercy of continuing that line of conversation as the silence carries a few minutes. It doesn’t feel lonely though, not with the presence of an old friendship.

Enid can’t help but marvel at the wonderful change in the woman as she pins Wednesday with a stare of her own. 

Seeing Wednesday again with her hair down continues to wow her in ways she can’t wrap her head around. She knows if it was years prior, Wednesday would never let anyone see her with her hair down so something must have happened that made her more… open to the vulnerability. Then again, she’s also wearing color . Maybe she’s changing, or evolving as she once called it.

Whatever it is, it must be good but Enid is a little jealous about it.

“You don’t keep your hair in braids anymore. So you’ve outgrown them?” Enid reaches out and twisting the black hair in between her fingers. The locks are soft and flow down Wednesday’s shoulders beautifully. “I miss them. That’s why I didn’t recognize you the first time.”

Just as Enid is about to take a sip of her drink, Wednesday questions, sounding insulted. “So you’re saying this doesn’t suit me?” 

“No! I’m not saying that!” Enid says, dropping her glass just as she brought it to her lips. The look Wednesday gives her is reminiscent of times that Wednesday would pitch a joke that only she would catch. She gapes and laughs. “You’re the worst.”

“May I ask you a question?”

“You don’t have to ask me a question to ask me a question, Willa.” Enid giggles. The name comes out easily as if practiced. She can hardly stop it from leaving her mouth because it’s just so comfortable to say.

“Why did we meet at a private women’s club so far away? You know I would have the resources for us to go somewhere closer to your city.” The silent implication that it would save them both the drive in traffic goes unsaid.

Enid drinks from her glass until the alcohol disappears and wipes the excess.

Truth be told, it’s true that they could have gone anywhere else. It didn’t have to be here or another club or whatever. It could have been a small dinner closer to her university. She could have anywhere else that they both could enjoy without going out of the way.

But something inside her wants to… appeal to Wednesday’s tastes, or show that she’s grown into a finer palate of taste herself too.

Is it also bad that she also wants to keep it a secret? At least until she knows this meeting and the sentiment aren’t a fluke? At least if the night ends badly, she can ignore it ever happening.

But that’s not what comes out of her mouth. The thing that comes out her mouth isn’t remotely close to what she’s thinking even if it holds some truth.

“Phoebe gets really possessive about me meeting anyone if it isn’t with the other girls or her. It could get out of hand if she found out about us.”

It doesn’t sound right. Enid knows it doesn’t, because when she mentions Phoebe, it feels like the mood has soured a little, especially when Wednesday says her name. And Phoebe isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds.

“Phoebe, your girlfriend? The normie?”

“Mhm, she always wants to know who I’m going out with, why, and where.” Enid plays with a piece of ice that must have fallen out when she downed her glass and swishes it around in a small square. “It’s kind of endearing.”

Enid pauses, remembering the times when Phoebe would get weird about her friends. “Sometimes, anyway. It gets annoying really quick a lot of the time though.”

Wednesday gives her a weird look of scrutiny at the admittance but Enid ignores it, opting to smile through her skepticism.

When she remembers the times when Wednesday used to do something similar, asking her about her appointments under the pretext of ‘vengeance in case of emergencies,’ she gives Wednesday a thoughtful stare. “She’s not like you though.”

It takes a minute or two before Enid realizes the place has gotten more crowded and the music has gotten louder too as she looks around. Enid already spots a couple of women nearby that eye them with interest in the way Enid has seen before Phoebe proposes a good time. And frankly, she’s not interested.

Wincing, Enid turns to Wednesday to gauge her reaction. The other woman looks a little put off too. Whether it’s the noise or the people (or, on second thought, it was probably the noise), Wednesday did not seem very pleased.

When a new round comes, Enid stands and puts a gentle hand on Wednesday’s arm while pulling her to a private karaoke room for a quieter place to talk without being looked at with sexual interest.

Enid doesn’t let go even when they enter the privacy of the room, dragging the Addams to sit beside her as she bothers her with more questions which Wednesday nods and indulges with short responses.

It’s a little more than she’d supply to the average person, but still not enough since Enid has to ask questions like she’s pulling teeth.

That doesn’t frustrate her as much as it should because if Wednesday is still here, then things are going well. And if she didn’t want to answer, Enid knows Wednesday wouldn’t humor it at all but she continues to answer every one of them.

There’s little updates about the immediate Addams clan, about how Pubert has found his foot in psychological terrorism, Pugsley most recently got arrested for the first time, and her parents are mournfully still the disgusting lovesick duo since Enid last saw them.

And Thing? The little guy misses her more than a hand could miss their fingers. She admits she does too.

Finally, when the buzz starts to die and Wednesday has judged the both of them to be sober enough to drive, the darker woman decides it’s time to say their goodbyes.

Enid doesn’t even realize that she’s let out a sad whine until Wednesday narrows her eyes at her.

To say it simply, Enid doesn’t want to. She’s disappointed at the fact that time won’t stop, but neither have a choice since Wednesday has to leave for a flight the next day and she’s got work in the morning. 

It’s not until Wednesday escorts her to her car that Enid realizes she’s never let go of her the whole time without Wednesday saying anything. And that– Enid realizes she thinks about that the entire drive home.

Chapter Text

The perpetual cycle of “class, work, home” start again when Spring Break reaches its end. It’s just two weeks after its end, and one week since her meeting with Wednesday when Enid feels the exhaustion. At the same time, the month and a half left until summer brings the right pep in her step even if she knows it’ll be no time before things get chaotic again.

This thought proves all too real on a random Sunday afternoon as she’s headed over for a quick lunch date with her girlfriend.

When Enid enters Phoebe’s apartment, courtesy of Kat who looks annoyed and exasperated, Enid realizes quite quickly that she’s walked into a battle zone as there are boxes and things strewn about. Phoebe is in absolute hysterics while Kat is already pissed and trying to calm down by breathing in a watermelon vanilla flavor from her vape pen that’s strong on her wolf nose.

“Kat, you bastard! Don’t walk away from me!”

“Shut up and calm your ass down! Your girlfriend was at the door!”

The anger surprises Enid because even though the two roommates aren’t best friends, they’re cordial and low maintenance toward each other. They usually let each other do whatever they want so long as there’s a heads up a day ahead and they clean after themselves, but Phoebe looks like she’s going to lose herself until she sees Enid walk into the room.

“Enid! Can you believe this shit?” She points at Kat, who is sorting through a bunch of boxes. “She’s leaving!”

“What?”

“Like I said, it’s not my decision! My parents found out that I dropped out!”

Honestly, that’s news to Enid too, but that explains why she sees less of Kat these days. She doesn’t really keep up with Kat as much because the both of them are always on the go. It’s not her business either. It’s not high school anymore, and all of this has no place in her dead Nevermore gossip blog. (Plus gossip isn’t juicy when it can only circle around the people you know.) But now all the boxes she saw on the way in make sense.

“Can’t you stay until the end of the semester?!”

“Be fuckin’ for real, my parents aren’t going to pay for an apartment when I’m not in school.”

“Then what the hell am I gonna do, Kat? How am I supposed to pay for a whole apartment! My name is on the lease for the whole year ! That’s three fuckin’ months left, Kat!”

Kat stops rummaging and putting her things away at this point, turning around to give Phoebe the most scalding glare. “Okay, whatever, listen. I’m sorry , okay? It wasn’t my fault! If my sister had just shut her fuckin’ trap, things would be fine! I’ll help you find someone to rent to, okay? Spread the fliers and all that shit around the streets like some missing dog sign.”

The pale, almost-vampiric girl waves her hand around frantically, “‘Roommate missing in parental purgatory. Cause of death: her rat sister — need a new one ASAP.’ Just leave me alone. Seriously .”

With that being her final say, Kat stomps down to the end of the hall where her room is and shuts the door with as much grace as a grumpy toddler.

“This is so bullshit!” Another one drops herself on the couch with a scream, punching her leg in anger at every syllable.

With her limbs now mostly healed from her injuries, Phoebe gives less of a shit about being careful than before but the painful thud still gets Enid to flinch at each hit. With the strength Phoebe puts into it, Enid won’t be surprised if there’s a fist shaped bruise on her thigh later that night.

Before Phoebe could do any more harm to herself, Enid pulls on her fists to stop her self-abuse and wraps her arms around the smaller girl in a hopefully soothing way. “Phoebe, listen. It’s not the end of the world yet. Just breathe .”

“I can’t pay that much rent for three months. Even when my parent’s insurance was paying for the hospital check ups, I still had to copay and my savings balance is still shit from it. I already asked my parents to help out since my accident, like twice . They’re not rich! I can’t just keep asking them to help pay for stuff like this. God , I knew I should have made Kat sign the lease too!”

Enid doesn’t say anything about that because it’s true, she really should have. She didn’t know what it meant to sign a lease the first time she learned about what they actually were, but once she did, it was hard to bring up after so much time had passed. Plus, Phoebe was so confident in it at the time that she also wanted to trust it.

Now she can only hug Phoebe close with the girl’s legs crossed over hers and wait for her to temper her frustration. “I know, baby. But you have to calm down and stop hitting yourself. If I have to, I will restrain you.” Enid knows that usually Phoebe would find some kind of sexual innuendo to say from that but the girl says and does nothing but focus on her breathing.

Then finally, it’s 10 minutes before Phoebe is some semblance of sane. In the moments that pass, Enid finds that Phoebe has found her way to sit fully on her lap, now playing with the loose threads of her ripped jeans. They sit in the safety of that bubble until Phoebe brings her voice to work again without sounding pissed, apologizing for the outburst and thanking her for calming her down.

“God, what do I do, E?” Phoebe whimpers with her forehead leaning into Enid’s neck. “I don’t have the money to pay that much. Kat says she has until the end of the month and she’s gotta go. That’s like two weeks of April left! My account has barely enough for two months until my next pay but that only covers my half of the rent. I won’t be able to even pay for the first month once Kat leaves, if that . Then, where am I when I need to cover everything else? Food? Utilities? Internet ? I’m actually going to cry.”

“Things will work out, okay? They always do, somehow.” Enid tries when Phoebe starts to mumble about the things she’d have to do and stuff she’d have to cut out. “We just have to find someone who needs a place or is willing to move. Kat said she’d help too.”

“There’s literally only one month left before finals and summer break. No one is going to want to move here!”

“But it doesn’t hurt to try,” Enid finds Phoebe’s hand slink in hers with a soft sigh coming from the other girl. “You never know, this might be someone else’s blessing.”

While the clock ticks, Phoebe stares at their intertwined fingers and pulls them close, pressing her hand softly against her lips. They remain there in the quiet for half an hour with the occasional shuffle and huff that can be heard beyond Kat’s door, embracing the false sense of peace the ambience gives.

“Would you still restrain me if I asked?” Phoebe says, trying to break the tenseness.

“ You can get your mind out of the gutter, wicked.”

“Who said anything about a gutter?”

“Okay, get off,” Enid shakes her head cartoonishly and pushes her girlfriend off her who giggles softly. The sound of a stomach rumbling erupts through the moment and the reason for Enid coming by revives itself.

By this point, the motivation to go anywhere light hearted has been burned out of Phoebe, and effectively Enid as well. Enid purses her lips and smiles, “How’s UberEats and a movie sound before you go on financial shutdown?”

–

It doesn’t take long before the idea of moving in with Phoebe starts orbiting her mind when the end of the first week flies by and they’ve still got no hits on a new roommate for Phoebe. The possibility of Phoebe being two times out of rent is getting higher and higher as time passes.

In most cases, living off campus is supposed to save a lot of money and in the area that they’re in, where it's a weird in-between of suburban and city, that might be something good.

If she moves in, she’d be spending more time with her girlfriend and honestly who hasn’t thought of living with their partner once? Date night every night until they’re sick of each other? Going to classes every morning together? Plus, if she did, she wouldn’t have to pay twice the gas to see Phoebe, right?

But the thing is, it’s a risk. Maybe not a huge risk but still one nonetheless.

Even though living off campus is cheaper usually in the long run, Phoebe has a nicer apartment than most, in a nicer neighborhood than most, and gated – so it’s in a safer place than most. Enid wouldn’t be surprised if the cost of living there is about the same as living in the dorms if not more.

And there’s another thing. Enid likes her adventures but she also likes her comfort. Since losing the support and stability of her pack, the security is a lot more enticing these days than the risks. The uncertainty wrought from losing her pack drives her to be as… safe as possible, and that means keeping everything as controlled as possible. And things that are the same are controlled.

Plus, getting this studio bedroom from the school was lucky to begin with because of the bullshit stereotypes a majority of the normie staff have about werewolves. So if she lets this room go, she’s back to the end of the line and she won’t be getting it back if something happens.

The thought swirls in her mind, leaning on neither one side or the other for a decision, until she thinks she’s going insane.

Honestly, at this point, she just wants someone else to make the decision for her and tell her what the right thing to do is. Someone who doesn’t have anything to do with it, and someone who doesn’t have a bias. A neutral party.

Before Enid realizes, she’s already looking at Wednesday’s contact with her picture and her phone is already in her ear.

“ Enid? ”

“S…alutations, Wed…nesday. Were you in the middle of something?”

“Hm… Nothing that can’t wait.”

“If you’re busy, I can call later,” Enid says, playing with her sleeve.

“ It’s fine. ”

“It’s okay, I’ll—”

“ Just say what you want to say, Enid .”

So she starts. She tells Wednesday the whole spiel that’s going on in her head. About how Phoebe lost her roommate, how they only have one week left to find someone or else Phoebe’s in trouble, how she’s thinking about moving in to help her. She doesn’t get to bring up the pros and cons before Wednesday interrupts her.

“ Stop. You have this all wrong, Enid. What you need isn’t an unbiased opinion, or anyone else’s for that matter. Nor is the question whether you should move in with Phoebe. ” Wednesday pauses as if she’s waiting for Enid to say something, because clearly she’s dramatic like that even though Enid is already holding in her breath for the ball to drop. “ It’s whether you want to or not. ”

At that, Enid feels her brain stop.

“ You are a free spirit. The value of all the benefits and disadvantages mean nothing if that isn’t what you desire. So I have to ask, do you want to? And if you do, are you aware of the consequences in doing so? ”

“Well, Phoebe needs help and—”

“ Has she asked you to? ”

“Not explicitly…”

“ Then do you want to? ”

Enid lets the silence soak as she thinks and stops to let herself feel. There’s turmoil wherever she looks inside herself. Because she knows it’s ‘right’ when she thinks of moving, but it doesn’t feel ‘right.’ While she appreciates the deceptive calm, something rips through her with guilt the closer she comes to her decision. A part of her crumbles as she shakes her head to herself. “No…”

“ Then you shouldn’t ,” Wednesday says with finality.

The pit of guilt doesn’t go away with the statement.

Selfish. She feels selfish. Because if you love someone, wouldn’t you make the sacrifice for them? Even if it’s to your own detriment? Wouldn’t most partners make the hard choice? Is it not selfish for her to want to do things so she doesn’t get hurt in the process?

Surely, there’s a ‘yes’ in there somewhere, but Wednesday is right.

Would she be happy if she did it out of obligation? She did enough of that when her mother had a say in all her choices, and she was never happy to follow an expectation set by her pack. The truth hovers over her, now brought to the surface.

She sighs, trying to keep her mind away from it now. “… Thanks, Willa.”

“ Just don’t do something you’ll regret, wolf. It would suit you better to value your opinion more than others. ”

Enid gives a small smile. “Okay, enough about me. Will I see you after your tour?”

“ I’ve made the commitment. I intend to keep it. You will see me in under a fortnight .”

“Promise?”

“ I give you permission to smite me should I break my vows .”

“Hmmm, permission to smite the Wednesday Addams. That’s serious biz. What if I want a favor instead?”

Wednesday gives an amused scoff.

Enid laughs. They don’t hang up until the moon is high.

–

There’s something lucky about Phoebe not asking or begging her to move in out of desperation. A part of Enid wonders why, but she likely understands how hard it is to score a room in the dorms after trying to get one herself in her college freshman year. Or maybe she implicitly understands or knows about Enid’s unwillingness… but Enid is not going to prove herself wrong by implying the subject.

But it turns out that Enid’s hesitance about Phoebe’s situation comes to an end in a fortunate but unsuspecting way. Just days after her conversation with Wednesday, Kat has news that she’s found someone.

With only a few days left to spare before the month is over, Kat says that slapping the flier around her old work place has somehow reached out to someone. It’s a miracle honestly.

Not only is it a miracle that they found someone. It’s a miracle that it’s someone they know too.

So who does it reach?

Cora.

After their meeting and the brunch after, they’ve only seen Cora a handful of times around campus with most of their interaction through text or social media. But when Kat brings Cora over one day to be vetted as a roommate, who in turn also awkwardly doesn’t realize that the apartment to be rented out is also Phoebe’s because the details on the flier were basic details about the apartment, it’s pretty easy to see where this goes.

Now when the vetting is done, Cora’s biggest condition she has before accepting is that they use Phoebe’s car because the things she’ll be bringing is likely worth two trips with one car and she’s the only one with a station wagon between the two of them. It's probably the easiest trade-off to save Phoebe's expenses so how could she say ‘no’?

Cora answering the ad is honestly a bit of a surprise for the both of them because, well, she’s already living at home (free of charge!) and commutes. But they can’t find any fault in the reasons Cora tells them when they ask are fair. Plus, Phoebe and Cora get more opportunity to see each other and build where they last left off.

The cost of gas has never been a problem for her before, but the time to drive home and back is more of a toll on her than anything else because of how much it takes away from studying with the long commute. Not to mention, she always has to plan her classes around the drive. A closer commute means a more flexible schedule.

When Cora mentions seeking the freedom of being “herself” rather than a version of what her pack wanted her to be, Enid sympathizes with it completely and is way on board with the decision to the point of offering to help her move in with Phoebe in tow. (The promise of two free meals and a ride to her place as the help might have had a little to do with it too.)

When all is said and done, the three of them gather in the newly arranged living room with Phoebe sitting right in between while gobbling down their many boxes of takeout that will totally be gone between two exhausted werewolves and one semi-recovering normie.

A new set of boxes gather across the apartment to the point that all traces of Kat are long gone besides the orange splatter on the white wall of her bedroom. (Phoebe one-hundo percent made Kat pay the deposit of that. What the heck did she throw for it to stain that badly?)

When Phoebe excuses herself to the restroom, Cora turns to Enid with an appreciative look. “Thanks for helping, Enid. You really didn’t have to. Also sorry if my parents were being weird after they heard your name. My theory is they don’t get out a lot.”

“It’s really nothing, Cora.” Enid says after wiping her mouth of the oil from the noodles. She wills to forget the discovery of her parents(?) and Cora’s parents being associates, and puts down her chopsticks. “‘Cause I get it. For one, I barely have enough time to study myself and I live on campus . And it really sucks when your family has this… expectation of you to outperform.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t help that I’m the oldest of the pack and turned the youngest either. And all that about turning younger means you’re more connected to your wolf is such bullshit,” Cora snorts.

Enid scoffs too, because she’s pretty sure she’s probably one of the oldest recorded wolves that shifted late and instantly went from runt to the pride of the pack. ‘ An inspiration to all late bloomers out there. ’

Her mother had not let a single fur brain forget it when they found out her control over her wolf was more evolved than most experienced ones from the get-go. “Tell me about it.”

Cora squints curiously, “You have experience?”

“More than you know,” Enid sighs.

Cora points and smiles awkwardly. “Okay, I sense a story but I’m not gonna push it. We’re gonna see a lot more of each other from now on. My ears are open if you need it. We can bond on pack trauma.”

Enid laughs. “Yeah, that’d be fun for sure.”

“Alright, I think I need to get to unpacking or the mess is going to get to me,” Cora points at Enid’s plate while lifting her own. The gesture is easy to read. “Are you done?”

Enid waves at her and collects their disposable plates, containers, and utensils. “I can clean up and save you the trouble. Phoebe’s got some dirty dishes she hasn’t done yet either.”

Cora pauses and looks at her. “I can’t believe Phoebe scored someone like you sometimes. That girl is a mess, but you , you are literally a godsend.”

Enid purses her lips and mirrors Cora’s expression, amused. “And soon, this will be you cleaning her dishes.”

“Man, I should have thought things through,” Cora shakes her head. She groans something out of exasperation before a sarcastic smile fills her face. She takes her leave toward her new room, bidding Enid with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘goodbye.’

A few minutes later, the smell of minty soap and a hint of nutmeg enters her olfactory senses, hinting to her of the new 5’1” arrival. Enid feels arms snake behind her while the last of the dishes are cleared no more than seconds later. It’s a no brainer who it is when lips press against her neck, trailing kisses across the freckles on her neck and through her tank top.

“Watching you heavy lift stuff today was pretty hot,” Phoebe whispers from behind her. “If we weren’t helping Cora, I’d have begged for a quickie. Remind me to take the chance next time.”

Enid laughs, pulling Phoebe’s arms apart to turn around and then wrap her arms over the other girl’s neck. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Enid can’t help but squint at her when Phoebe smiles in a particular way that Enid recognizes. The extra glint in her girlfriend's eyes speaks volumes, only to be confirmed by her next words. “That excitement hasn’t exactly died, you know?”

“Nuh uh, no way, missy. We’re not doing this with Cora here.”

“Aw, E! But it’s been so long!”

“I’m feeling wound up too, baby, but I’m not in the business of letting Cora hear us make love while she’s unpacking. You are crazy. Do you want to chase her out on the first night?”

Phoebe hesitates but relents. “No, I don’t.”

“Then let’s not give her a reason,” Enid says, booping Phoebe’s nose. She pulls Phoebe close to her though, teasing a light peck on the lips which her girlfriend surely tries to deepen. Enid smirks at her before, pulling her away with the light tug of her ponytail. Phoebe lets out a sad groan.

“Ugh, if I could carry you, it’d be so easy,” Phoebe pouts.

“You’re all skin and bones,” Enid teases, then drags Phoebe towards her room, “C’mon, we can do some cuddles to tide us both over. And maybe some kisses as long as we’re both quiet.”

–

May 3rd doesn’t come fast enough even with the whirlwind of the last two weeks of helping Phoebe with her living arrangements. It passes by too slow and too fast at the same time that she’s counting down the days she can see Wednesday again. Today marks thirteen days and thirteen nights from their call.

With the finals fast approaching, there’s not much time to meet but she’s got a personal “meet Wednesday” quota she wants to reach. Besides, she’s got a week and two weekends left to cram before shit hits the fan for her. Her saving grace for the rest of the semester is that the full moon barely misses finals.

(Thank God for that, but holy shit she knows she’s going to be so tired after.)

Because of the lack of time, they decided to meet somewhere more… normal and at the insistence of Wednesday, somewhere much closer to her and without the consumption of alcohol so the drive isn’t as bad.

Enid manages to get there at least half an hour early. She sits in a small minimally lit cafe, run for college students, by college students looking to make a buck. Enid doesn’t really expect much from it but it’s a place that makes a decent enough mocha latte. It’s got all the natural tones—green and brown, black and white, and thankfully it’s very Wednesday-suited.

Out the window, she looks eagerly for the long flowing black hair and the telltale clean and black fashion of an Addams to enter her field of view when Wednesday slips behind her and takes the seat beside her. The only reason Enid starts realizing Wednesday is even there is because she knocks on the table beside her to get her attention, causing Enid to jump instead.

“What the hell? Where did you come from?” Enid yells when her eyes meet Wednesday.

Instead of the usual formal dapper Wednesday wears, this Wednesday dons a breezy ashgray drop tail shirt that dips beyond the edge of a relaxed leather jacket and loose-fitted black jeans. The Addams girl is already holding her own drink in one hand, the classic four shots on ice, partially drunk. “You’re a bit slow, Enid.”

Offended, she pulls back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“An Addams never tells.” Wednesday says mysteriously.

“ An Addams never tells . I bet you just went through the back door.”

Wednesday raises her eyebrows at her in a way that tells her that no , she didn’t come through the back door, but that was neither here nor there.

Enid lets her have it, falling into a casual conversation by asking questions about her book tour on the west coast.

There’s not a lot of highs nor lows, but there were a few amusing things that Wednesday shared. Like, one event where a fan had attempted to cut in line and demanded a photo with her despite her strict “ No photos ” rule across all the locations.

Wednesday had the fan removed naturally, of course, under the threat that if they didn’t leave, he’d have wounds matching one of the victims in her book. Which victim and which book, she doesn’t mention. Enid hasn’t read any of the books to understand the scope of the threat but just knows they get intentionally more gruesome with each book.

Or, the one where one fan claims to be an old friend of Wednesday’s, which Wednesday recalls being one of her bullies-turned-victims in elementary school. (Wednesday apparently waved that fan off and called for the next person.)

The one that gets Enid to laugh the loudest is the one about the ex-classmate that scrambled out in horror when he realized that the person that wrote the gore-ish mystery books he liked was the same girl who set a pool of piranhas to his testes. Enid honestly wishes she was there to see this one.

Enid spies a look at Wednesday who holds her cup as if to hide a smirk after that story. “I also dropped by your city. It wasn’t quite as drab as I last remember it being. Not enough rain and fog.”

“ Ha , not really my city anymore.” Enid scratches her neck, sipping her drink. 

“Right. My apologies.” Wednesday nods slowly. When Wednesday shakes her left hand a little, Enid’s eyes zero in on the action. Wednesday’s face doesn’t betray her in the slightest but Enid has seen the action enough times that she knows what that means.

“Does it still hurt?”

Wednesday pauses and flexes her left hand. She shows the hand to Enid. It’s clear of any blemishes but a ghost of a long deliberate cut. “No, it’s mostly just numb now. I’ve lost feeling in this hand for quite some time.”

If Enid remembers correctly, Wednesday’s right hand has a more visible scar atop of her palm too, all courtesy of her battle against Crackstone and Gates, but she can still feel out of that hand. As Wednesday explained it, Goody’s healing on her left didn’t give any time for natural progression of healing, only piecing back skin, muscle, and function, but not so much of the feeling right down the middle of the palm and up her fingers.

“It’s because you insist on never dressing warm enough. Keeping warm is supposed to help the blood flow and numbness, remember?” Enid says, pulling Wednesday’s hand tenderly.

Enid remembers reading that somewhere online back then. With werewolves running hot all the time and Wednesday’s standard body temperature always cold, Enid took it upon herself to help the monochrome girl with her warmth.

Holding it softly, Enid squeezes the hand and massages it until she feels the coolness of Wednesday’s fingers slip away. Enid smiles nostalgically. “Everything about you is always so cold.”

“Naturally, but the numbness doesn’t hinder me,” Wednesday says slowly. Her eyes have never left Enid’s face and she can tell by the way Wednesday’s head has not once turned down in her peripheral vision. “Does yours?”

“Not really, but sometimes,” Enid says, brushing her thumb over the invisible scar on Wednesday’s palm. “Nothing new.”

Wednesday gently brings up her right hand, gradually breaking the invisible barrier between them as her fingers draw back a strand of her hair behind her ear. Innocently, she also brushes past her cheek, leaving a feather’s touch. She pauses shortly and waits for Enid to pull away but all she does is hold in a breath subtly.

Wednesday’s lips quirk ever so subtly after that. “Good.”

When Wednesday smiles her tiny little smile, her image fades into a memory of times where Enid would spot the hint of a soft smile on the woman’s face in their teen years. Ones that made her bury her thoughts and left them to sit in the grave because well…

When she remembers Wednesday telling her she doesn’t “love” normally those years ago, remembers how she said love looks different to her than it does to others, remembers how she shows love to family, to mutual friends, she’s not sure if it means anything except action mirroring when it comes to her.

Still, Enid feels like gravity has left the bubble of their space and she’s content with floating until it bursts. Eventually, Wednesday pulls her hand from Enid’s and goes back to sipping her drink. Wednesday appears as though she did nothing at all. Something in Enid scrambles as she tries to pick up the words to conversate again.

Enid thinks about her smile on the way home.

Chapter Text

When summer break finally hits, Enid is literally dying. Well, she’s free first. Thank fucking God finals hell is over. Now it’s three months before she has to do it all over again. (Huge ugh.)

The night after the full moon is a bitch since it’s immediately after finals. ( Literally the night of the last day!)

Since Cora lives a lot closer and the forest is an easier car drive away for her, they go to the forest together. Phoebe follows along too, with a distinct promise to both her and Cora that she’d stay in the car and won’t get brave a second time with entering the forest. And after, Phoebe drives the both of them back to their place to sleep off the fatigue or vibe out in the living room kind of like a sleepover.

Enid finds all this to be a lot of fun even if it’s just killing the wolf energy in the forest and then burning out as a human after. Ending the day laying on the shorter side of the L-shaped couch and her legs hanging off the side with the two girls relaxes her.

Despite the overwhelming tiredness, she’s still awake to allow the last of the moonlight energy to clear from her bones or else she’d be kicking all night. (And honestly, fixing your bed sheets after they’re pulled from their corners from aggressive kicking every month becomes a seriously annoying chore after a while.) 

On the other hand, Phoebe has completely passed out sharing a ginormous pillow with Enid at the elbow of the couch and arms wrapped around herself tightly while facing the couch. Cora sits on the floor beside them because Phoebe doesn’t leave enough for another body on the longer side of the couch. Although it looks inconvenient, it works out because they’re able to share a bowl of grapes easier than if she was across the couch.

At this moment, she and Cora are sharing TikToks with each other and laughing about some stupid parkour attempt they saw Davis (some douchebag werewolf they mutually disliked) try and fail in the forest earlier tonight when her phone dings. It takes her attention from the activity almost immediately.

The top of her phone says it’s 4 in the morning but a smile blooms on her face when she sees Wednesday’s name.

‘ I assume you wolfed out tonight. Congratulations, I suppose. ’

‘ Hello, Willa!! you don’t have to congratulate me every time, you ghoul. but yes, Wolfed out and wiped out. I’m suuper tired @~@ ’

‘ What is that supposed to be? ’

‘ It’s a face!! The @ are the eyes. the ~ is the mouth. its supposed to mean confusion or disorientation ’

Enid watches as the ellipses bounces a few times before disappearing and then ‘ Okay ’ appears.

No clever comebacks. No emojis. Just ‘Okay.’

Enid huffs a suppressed chuckle at Wednesday’s prickled response, knowing she still does not understand it but Wednesday knows better than to argue with her about internet slang and text emojis. It reminds her fondly of their time in Nevermore, when Wednesday would send her texts if she had something to say and all Enid gave her back would be a spam of emojis just to annoy her.

Quickly, she types, asking why Wednesday is up so early or if she slept at all. Knowing Wednesday, she probably never slept. Predictably, Wednesday doesn’t answer the question.

‘ Pubert inquires about how you look as a wolf. He claims he was too young to remember when you came over last time. ’

‘Well, he was three Willa.’ She rolls her eyes amused and presses enter before realizing the growth of the youngest Addams. ‘OMG that means he’s like 5 now!! 6????’

‘ He will be turning 6 in the upcoming months. Just the right age to attend juvenile detention. ’

Enid crinkles her eyebrows at the eccentric response. After a second, she clicks that Wednesday means school. A half smile makes it to her lips again. ‘ do addamses go to public preschool?? can i have a bean picture of lil pubert on his first day?? or pugsley?? do YOU have a pic in preschool??? ’

“What are you smiling about?” Cora asks, breaking through the shroud of her ecstatic realization. Apparently, Cora’s been trying to show her another TikTok for a while now.

Enid looks up at her and just shrugs. “A friend. She’s kinda… the blunt type? But also really clueless and cautious about anything relating to the internet.”

“So she’s ancient?” Cora says, popping a grape into her mouth.

“So ancient. Practically anachronistic,” Enid says with a smirk, “like an assassin from the early 1900s dropped into the electronic era.” Wednesday would probably be amused about that comparison. Accurate? Probably not, but it was funny.

“Sounds… charming?” Cora says with a thinking frown. “It’s pretty late though. Is she a fur too? No, lemme guess, a fang?”

It’s funny because Enid has thought the same upon their first meeting too. The paleness of her skin and all her dark and deep contrast of monochrome colors made it all too easy to speculate even if it wasn’t true. “No, she’s just a little kooky. Prefers spooky though.”

Enid picks another grape from the bowl and waits until her phone the sound of a new message comes through.

“Does she go here?”

“No, I wish she did, but she doesn’t go to college at all,” Enid shakes her head, thoughtfully. She thinks for a moment before pouting. “On second thought, I don’t know if the colleges would accept her because of some things she’s done. She’s probably too smart for it too. The stuff she already knows is freakishly vast.”

“So she’s old school, charming, kooky, and a genius. I dunno what you mean by kooky but I can’t really imagine someone like that.”

“It would make sense if you met her.”

At that, Cora nods, letting out a curious sound. She lets Enid go back to her texting for a bit when another ding goes through.

‘ No to all questions, Enid. Pubert and Pugsley will relish too much in the attention. ’

‘ Aw :( please?? I wanna see baby Wednesday again at least ’

‘ And give you photographic blackmail? Perish the thought, beast. ’

Enid giggles, careful not to be too loud so Phoebe can stay asleep. She sits up a little, careful not to move the pillow. ‘ it was worth a try! Mark my words, Wednesday Addams. I’ll have my hands on something! ’

‘ Your pursuits will be for naught. But I commend your efforts. ’

“Jerk,” Enid whispers jokingly.

Enid hardly realizes that she’s still in her conversation with Cora until the other werewolf speaks up. “Why don’t you invite her over? She sounds kinda fun to get to know.”

Enid scrunches her nose. “She’s… a little hard to get along with for some people. I dunno if she’d like it either. Lives kinda far too.”

“Okay, distance is the decider, I get it,” Cora winces. “She must be pretty cool if you’re friends with her though. No pressure though if she can’t come over. Just an idea.”

Pursing her lips, Enid exhales a breath. “I‘ll think about it.”

For the rest of the night, the thought of inviting Wednesday over surrounds her thoughts. Her fingers flutter over the words ‘Will you come over?’ every few times while texting Wednesday, but eventually she falls asleep with the message half-written.

–

It being summer doesn’t mean Enid necessarily gets a break.

Summer break means no classes, which means more free time. But more free time also means more work time.

With this summer being the second summer since she’s been cut off from her family, she knows the drill and right now? The plan is to earn as much money as possible to save for books and tuition and the little bit her subsidized studio room has her cover just in case of emergencies.

Two part time jobs might sound like overkill. For some people, it is.

But when shifts become way more limited at the student store during summers for the favorites (which by the way, screw you, Gio) and you still have to work your ass off to keep your room for the summer break, it becomes more or less a necessity.

Go figure, huh?

But at least she somehow gets two jobs lined up for the summer – one at a children’s summer program nearby for 6 weeks and another with the night shift at a diner.

The main thing that sucks about this is how much it will limit her time with her girlfriend and hanging out with friends.

…Okay, yeah, she didn’t have a lot of time in the first place because of classes but it’s the principle!!

She misses when summer was all about just hanging out and being with friends and finding the time to catch up. Summer camp, beach trips, and road trips (even though she’s never been on one)!  She misses that so frickin’ much. Thinking about this being the “adult life” depresses her beyond belief. She really oversold the experience for herself.

At this time, the sun has long gone. The 24-hour diner she had the fortune of working at is practically run by only four other staff members during the night time. Two in the kitchen, the night manager, and another server besides herself.

As far as Enid can tell, the pay isn’t bad. It’s better than working at the student store and way more consistent (again, screw you, Gio). The best thing is that it’s outcast-run, so Raul is extremely accommodating when Enid mentions she’d be calling out on days leading up to and after the full moon. 

Also? Free food, leftovers from the kitchen or purposely-made extras, go automatically in boxes that she and Lena can take home. It’s the best kind of savings Enid could wish for while earning money. Who cares if it’s mostly pancakes and waffles and sausage and eggs half the time? ( Sometimes Tamilla ‘accidentally’ makes an extra burger with fries and everyone turns away.)

Honestly, quitting the student store job entirely sounds like a pretty enticing idea right now.

Wherever this good luck is coming from, holy shit, she hopes it never stops.

With the restaurant being mostly empty aside from a select few tables scattered across the dining, Enid is mostly just keeping an eye on things now since wiping down tables becomes pointless to do after the second or third time.

But sure enough not everything is complete when a dull plastic clatter crashes and she looks to the immediate right. Lena leans slightly slumped over the counter with an absurd arms worth of plastic condiment bottles dropped on it. Ketchup, mustard, barbeque sauce, and syrup bottles thrown askew while the girl picks up one that fell on the ground.

“Could you…?” Lena starts and Enid gets the message as she helps put them upright to refill the bottles with their respective condiments.

“Should I get the fillers?”

Lena shakes her head and then disappears into the kitchen, “You’re good, I’ll get ‘em. Just keep watch.”

All in all, working here is a decent and slow time with slightly higher pay, but she gets why no one likes working the night shift because it totes kills the social life.

Then out of nowhere, her phone vibrates and she pulls it out expecting it to be a text from Phoebe or one of the Nightshade girls (probably Yoko because it’s perfectly ‘Yoko morning time’ at around 10pm).

To her surprise, it’s not.

Wednesday’s name lights up with that old picture of hers. Enid looks up at the diner and then to the reemerging Lena who shrugs and feigns ignorance that Enid is sneaking away.

“Hey, Willa,” Enid whispers as soon as she enters the restroom.

“ Hello, Enid. Why are you whispering? ”

“Oh, I’m uh, at work.”

“ … I wasn’t aware that you worked the night shift? ”

“It’s just for the summer. Time is money, and time waits for no one, right?”

“ For the entire summer? ”

“Mmhm, except for the weekends. And full moons,” Enid exclaims.

“ Hmmm, I see ,” Wednesday says simply without elaborating.

Enid scrunches her nose. A kind of anticipation begins crawling from the bottom of her chest because she heard that small, very tiny lilt in the way Wednesday said the last word. “Why?”

Wednesday doesn’t answer immediately. “ The family wanted to invite you over the week of the upcoming summer solstice, if you’re inclined. However, they will understand if you are busy. ”

Immediately, Enid feels disappointment and ultimately sadness. It’s not often that Wednesday invites her to something. (Mostly because she prefers not to go anywhere unless there’s a purposeful reason but even then, sometimes Enid would invite herself because most of those outings involved danger.) So it’s a seriously special occasion when she does.

Yet now, once again, she feels a sense of déjà vu as the next words come out of her mouth, “Oh, I… Wednesday, I’m so sorry— it’s just– I-I’m scheduled for the next few weeks and I work mornings at a summer thing so I can’t just leave for a week and—”

“ It’s alright, Enid. You don’t have to explain anything to me ,” Wednesday interrupts.

That’s the words that Wednesday says in her usual monotone voice but Enid doesn’t know whether to believe the voice Wednesday uses.

Logically, she knows Wednesday understands. She’s always understood. It’s okay to trust that, right?

But whether or not it’s true, it feels like she’s letting Wednesday down all over again. She’s thought endless nights about how Wednesday must feel being let down over and over again. Even if Wednesday doesn’t ‘feel’ the same way as most, her trust in Enid must dwindle with each rejection. How long before she stops asking or expecting anything altogether?

How many times will Wednesday be okay with being set aside before she gives up (again)? Or thinks that Enid isn’t interested? Enid hates the thought of that. Like any point is the last straw, the last chance. Even if it’s irrational, Enid fears losing their friendship again.

It doesn’t matter how many times Wednesday says that it’s alright. Wednesday’s permission to be let down just doesn’t feel right.

Just when Enid is about to say something, someone knocks on the door rapidly. Lena’s voice hisses in through the sound of the terrible ventilation fan, “Hurry up! Raul is wondering where you are! The period cramp excuse only works for so long.”

Enid winces at the realization and then curses lightly because that’s the stupidest fake excuse to give to your vampire night manager.

…Ugh! Screw this timing!

“Okay, just– I’ll call you later okay? This talk isn’t over, I swear. Just– Later, okay?”

“ Have a horrible time, Enid. ”

Enid smiles wobbly. “Thanks. Good night, Wednesday.”

When the call ends, Enid takes a moment to herself. She sighs as the heaviness sits and thrashes wildly in her chest.

Enid lets herself go through the usual restroom routine as she sits up. For extra measure of pretending, she flushes the toilet and washes her hands while looking at herself in the mirror. She looks better than she feels and that's already saying a lot considering how ragged she usually looks. Feeling absolutely scattered, she leaves the toilet room with a groan leaving her mouth.

The adult life fucking sucks!

–

Her shifts at the diner aren’t that long.

Alright, maybe that’s a little bit of a stretch. 6 hours a day do stack up pretty quick.

When she leaves at 2am (and luckily, no one is late for the graveyard shift this time), there’s usually just enough time for a quick nap before she has to get to the summer program. But today, she takes advantage of the free coffee (which is the most gross coffee she’s ever had the displeasure of tasting) by chugging it like her life will depend on it.

God, this coffee is going to be a mistake later but she’s def not gonna be able to get a restful nap without getting back to Wednesday first.

The thing is, yes, Enid did tell Wednesday that she would call her back and they’d talk more about it. But what did Enid even have to offer? “Sorry, Wednesday, maybe next time!” What difference did that make to a ‘no’?

The moment she’s out the door sans a goodbye to Raul, Tamilla, Connor, and Lena, her mind is already scrambling for a thought to say to Wednesday. Her mind is going a mile a minute, guided by caffeine and crippled by slowly dying adrenaline. Before she even remembers it’s 2am which means that Wednesday might already be sleeping like the corpse she is if she decides to sleep at all, her phone already in her ear and the ring is already going.

As soon as the ring stops, the first thing that comes up in her mind is, “Dinner!”

“… what? ”

Enid takes a second to gather herself for a coherent thought. “Next time you’re around the area, can I invite you to dinner to make up for it?”

“ Make up for what? ”

“For not being able to visit.”

Wednesday takes a moment before she says anything. “ Forget the invitation, Enid. There is nothing to ‘make up’ for. ”

“That’s not true, there’s so much to make up for. All those times I bailed on you and stuff and…”

And the last time she did, they stopped talking for a year.

Enid doesn’t verbalize it. She’s sure Wednesday won't pick it up either. But she just can’t shake the fear of losing her again.

When she remembers that last time she had left Wednesday hanging, it started that full year stop on their friendship.

Okay, sure, they still didn’t know what happened there to prevent it from happening again and neither wanted to be held up on something they’d never find the answer for. But it doesn’t matter that they let it go and forgive each other for something that isn’t their fault. 

The unease still finds a chink in her armor and plunges the anxiety right into her system, like caffeine without the tingle and the sugar. There’s not much of a battle between the two right now either. Rather, they work together to make her feel like a bundle of jitters.

Wednesday goes quiet at her words. The thing that lets Enid know that Wednesday is still there is the sigh that Wednesday eventually exhales, “ Listen here and listen well. Nothing about us should be an obligation. If I have ever given this impression, I… apologize. But whatever thoughts you have about being in debt to me stop now. ”

“But—”

“ Now, Enid. ” Wednesday huffs, seeming a little annoyed. She imagines the little pout that Wednesday has when things don’t go her way sometimes.

Biting her lip, Enid responds, “Okay, yeah, I get it. But I just hate telling you that I’m busy, especially when you ask for so little. You rarely ever call first too.”

Wednesday says. “ If our companionship were based on the conditions of a typical friendship, then I fear it would have ended long ago, and to no fault of your own. ”

Enid takes a bit to mull over her words. Because yeah, Wednesday has a point. Their friendship didn’t take on the usual hallmarks of a normal friendship.

It was rocky at first and it had a lot of Enid chasing after Wednesday literally and figuratively (pun not intended). Sometimes they even had periods where they didn't talk for days or weeks after Nevermore. Even now, it was a lot like that with Enid reaching out first.

That said, Wednesday did not always humor her antics, did not always show she cared in the typical ways on an average day, and rarely ever made the first move so it was super annoying sometimes.

But Wednesday always came through when it was important, always met her half way when she needed it, always was beside her for any trouble.

And honestly part of this friendship probably has a lot to do with almost dying in each other’s places multiple times because of the various crazy events that happened at Nevermore. (And trauma! Can’t forget trauma.) Like the time she ran towards danger to save her from Tyler a second time, or that time Wednesday jumped into the line of a bullet from a hunter on a full moon night, among other examples. Those three years were probably the craziest of her life.

But if Wednesday doesn’t want her to finish her personal debt, that’s fine. Enid still has her own vows to keep no matter what Wednesday says, though – the one about putting care into their friendship, in her own way.

So, respectfully, Wednesday, no, she won’t actually let it go even if she says it’s okay that she doesn’t make it up. It’s her bestie given right not to let it go just as it’s Wednesday’s to say she should.

“And,” Wednesday continues, speaking slowly like she’s picking the right words, “if… you’d like me to initiate conversation more, I will try.”

Well, that’s a little new and that makes Enid feel a little better but… “I still wanna go,” she whimpers.

“ Visiting should hardly be at the top of your list right now. The others will live to mourn another day. Stay selfish and care for yourself. Now go rest. ”

“Can’t, drank coffee.” Enid groans, flopping her head against her car seat’s headrest with a ‘ poof .’

“ Surely, that won’t compromise you in the end. ” Wednesday deadpans with a sense of mockery, completely sarcastic with her delivery. It’s not like Wednesday has a leg to stand on when Enid has caught her drinking coffee at midnight too!

Enid should be super annoyed about it, but she’s not as much as she would have thought. “Har-de-har-har, I already know it was a mistake, Willa.”

“ Was it at least adequate? ”

“Ugh, it was drip.”

“ Do you have any respect for yourself, foolish beast? ” Wednesday says immediately.

“It was the only thing I could get!” She defends. After a moment, she says, “Talk to me until I have to go.”

“ When exactly is that? ”

“Like… 5 hours?”

“ You truly have no self-preservation ,” Wednesday sighs, but she doesn’t say no.

–

After that, a month passes by smoothly.

Tired, but smooth.

(Enid makes the note never to drink coffee in place of a nap again for work because it’s way too reminiscent of midterms-slash-finals week. If she wanted that kind of torture, she’d just sign up for 5 classes and work a part-time job again and make it a whole thing.)

The closer the date comes to the summer solstice, the more she thinks about wishing she could meet Wednesday and the Addams family again. They always effortlessly included her in anything they could. It was no surprise that they had invited her to their summer solstice tradition the moment their friendship had been reestablished.

Besides her pack, they were the closest thing to the word to her and they were the second thing she missed most besides friends. (And Wednesday.)

When the week is finally upon them, she discovers obviously that this summer solstice is special. The summer solstice aligns exactly with the full moon this year which puts more of an ache in her bones than she remembers the last one being. Her joints even hurt when she moves. She wonders if this is what having arthritis must feel like.

(Wait, oh God, what if it is and she’s already getting old? Or was it early on-set arthritis? Is that possible in her twenties? Wasn’t there some study about this on werewolves? God, what’s worse?)

When she asks Cora if she feels a little more out of place than usual, she says ‘no’ and leaves Enid to wonder if this is a Blood Wolf thing. (Another annoying thing about being one then.) And if she had known that, she would have called off a lot earlier for the summer program to find a sub.

The discovery actually kinda bums her out because if she had known, she would have told Wednesday she would go—aches be damned—but there’s no point in it now that the day is upon them.

In the forest, she throws her knapsack of clothes to change into against the bottom of a tree, already dressed in an easy robe for when the transformation starts setting in.

A full moon night always starts with the older, grown werewolves taking a headcount of the werewolves present before reciting the same things from the forest rule book. Enid notices today that attendance is lower than usual, high courtesy of it being the middle of summer. She notices a few that are new too, unsure if they’re new early arrivals or those who came home for the summer.

Besides that, it’s a lot like class.

It’s a little annoying, it’s a lot of a bore, and honestly, after that time with Phoebe, it’s almost necessary since it keeps track of who’s here in case of trouble. But once that’s done, everyone is free to go where they want because they’re using the same forest doesn’t mean they have to be on the same page about hunts and whatever… as long as they don’t break the rules and stay within the forest territory.

As a wolf that’s tired of the attention and expectation to lead, that suits Enid just fine.

Enid groans while rubbing her elbow when the moon is low in the sky.

Already, she feels bones begging to break and become malleable, blood pumps a little harder from the excitement. Whatever hormone wolves release when they feel the moon goddess’s blessing, that’s already starting to sink in her stream. It takes her minutes to transform, pink robe discarded on the ground.

She finds Cora fairly quickly, just as equally transformed into a honey blonde wolf, as they run off to find their inner circle to do whatever their wolf sides desire.

A lot of it is just running around in circles. Sometimes, they race. Sometimes, they play-fight. Sometimes, their circle splits into teams and plays ‘Hunt’ which is just a glorified version of wolf tag and encompasses all of it. Rarely, they do nothing but just laze around.

Tonight is a ‘Hunt’ kind of night apparently. Enid and Cora are assigned as the hunters with two others and everyone else of their 9-wolf circle as prey which gets a few of the other wolves whining to be part of their team. One of the other wolves takes the lead and Enid can appreciate that given the ache still hasn’t gone away even as a wolf.

The game starts with a 10-minute head start for the ‘prey’ team. Enid usually starts with closing off her senses to give the ‘prey’ an advantage while they bound in different directions. She stretches, trying to get comfortable despite the tremble in her joints, but no matter how many twists and turns, the feeling remains.

So in turn, Enid tunes into nature. The sound of the faint breeze rustling the growing leaves in the trees puts her at peace. All else is silent, with other animals somehow getting the memo that the wolves are out tonight – no easy hunt for those who want it. She can basically taste the fresh air.

Then Rufus howls as soon as he deems 10 minutes to pass, allowing the game to really start.

Things honestly go well for the first two ‘prey,’ tagged out pretty instantly because they got distracted by wolf mooning at another circle of wolves nearby. The third proposes a tiny bit of a challenge when they hide in the water and are only thwarted by their need to come up for air.

At this point, the game acts as a medium to kick them into their primal senses. Werewolf sight and hearing are already nothing to scoff at with their enhanced states, but when tuned into, it’s something to be reckoned with.

Most wolves smell the same as when they turn with an earthy musk of pine and dirt, and rarely some will smell completely different. The real challenge is differentiating it from everything else in the forest.

One prey member seems to have mixed in with other wolves to mask their scent. Which is fine and not all that hard but it’s boring so okay, whatever, we’ll find you later, you little rat.

The last one seems to have continued running and apparently had never stopped since their head start. They can’t even see them because of the distance that they’ve created between the ‘hunter’ team and themselves, but it’s definitely more fun for them to pursue.

At this point, the other two hunters have already proceeded with the running prey member but a different smell invades her wolf senses. The smell is just under the bitterness of smoke, likely from a campfire, which piques her curiosity because no human should be here at this time of night. It stops her and brings her snout upwards.

Cora has noticed Enid’s lack of movement to follow along now, having come back to give her a wolfish sound in question.

Enid turns in circles, searching, nosing the air for the origin of the smell.

Grave dirt. Aged paper and ink. Roses. And a light hint of coffee.

All too familiar smells. All smells that exist separately, but don’t exist together unless…

Without a second beat, her paws lead her in a different direction, opposite of the other hunter members of her team. Enid's wolf heart is beating wilding in her chest while speeding down an path only she sees. Cora follows her despite her bewildering reaction from the way breaking branches fall behind her after her feet leave the ground.

Towards the east of the forest, there’s just something Enid has to confirm because seriously, there’s no frickin’ way , right?

The clearing that Enid approaches is wide, as if there was meant to be something there.

All there is left is the dissipation of a dead fire. It looks as if it was meant to be a campsite but there’s no tent, no chairs, nothing set up. There’s no path, no kicked dirt, no other sign of existing life, just open space. But the scent leads her here, lingers, then surrounds her.

Beyond trees and shrubbery, she can’t find what she’s looking for, even with her wolf guided senses being aided by the moon. Whining curiously and sadly, she comes to the conclusion that the wolf inside her just misses Wednesday too and is imagining things.

Yet suddenly, a dagger flings right at her feet. The sound of it cutting through the air and sight of it piercing into soil causes Cora to growl, looking fiercely for the source. The show of the steel weapon and Cora’s reaction of it earns Enid’s acknowledgement that it isn't her imagine, that her wolf instincts leading her here aren't for naught.

She looks up because where else can the angle of that dagger come from?

A silhouette sits mysteriously in the dark shade of the branch. Small and petite, and unexpectedly, in more than familiar twin braids.

With Enid’s sight, she can make out the drowning yet glimmering eyes of one familiar Addams woman and the smirk that associates her.

“Hello, wolf,” Wednesday says, all too smug with where she is.

Chapter Text

The night as a wolf very quickly ended with Enid’s wolf side leaving slobber all over Wednesday’s shoulder as she dragged her from the collar all the way to the edge of the forest like a wolf did to their misbehaving young. Wednesday doesn’t necessarily come without struggle but even Wednesday can’t argue that her Addams strength was nothing against a determined and annoyed wolf.

Enid was ecstatic that Wednesday was here, euphoric even. But she was also kind of really pissed because she really doesn’t need a Phoebe moment, part two. Imagining Wednesday in place of Phoebe is the last thing she’d like to think about. Seeing her girlfriend backed onto her elbow with the meat of her arm almost torn was not a pleasant image, no matter what the stereotype about being a werewolf is.

Plus, who knows how many times another wolf has passed by unknowing of the woman’s presence? But worse, who knows if one of the other jackoffs smelled or heard her? Things can get so much worse when it’s some self-important werewolf that knows what they’re doing. Both of them know this from experience.

When she’s as close to the border as she can be without exposing herself or breaking the rules, Enid feels her body shrink, bones crack, and her senses go back to normal. Mostly.

The first thing she does out of her wolf is give Wednesday a generous earful. “Not telling me you came here is the total opposite of trying to talk more, Wednesday! I would have loved a call! Or a text! An email about this, even! We texted, like three days ago! Just something that would imply you’d be walking into a forest of freakin’ territorial werewolves hopped up on their stupid egos with a side of hormones on a full moon!”

Wednesday frowns, giving her an earnest type of stare. It's not until she opens her mouth to say something but then stops that Wednesday even indicates having absorbed any of her words.

Instead of giving Enid a reason, she takes off her long coat, revealing her navy cargo pants and a black crewneck sweatshirt overlapping a white shirt that peeks over the sleeves with an extremely familiar neck article that flatters Enid to her core. Wednesday hands her coat to Enid, a quick gesture for her to protect herself from possible prying eyes. “This isn’t my first time doing this, Enid.”

“It never is,” Enid stresses, removing the flattery from her mind and taking the coat. Once she puts it on, the Addams’s surprising warmth embraces her in place of the flattery as if to tell her things are alright. “Walking head first into something without even thinking of the dangers is clearly your brand. I wouldn’t have expected less but at least I would have been prepared.”

Wednesday touts. “I always consider the dangers; my propensity as an Addams prepares me. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah, but you were going to be noticed eventually. What if it wasn’t me that found you? What if it was some asshole from one of the other sub packs? The last time someone trespassed, they were sent to the hospital so yeah, I am gonna worry anyway, Wednesday!”

“I was quite hidden before I revealed myself to you, Enid. I watched a myriad of other wolves run by before you came along,” Wednesday states. Enid feels her levels rise from that because she would rather not know how long Wednesday was there watching the forest before she came along. She just hopes she doesn’t do it again.

Which actually brings her to a thought. “Actually, what are you doing here anyway? Weren't you supposed to be with your family for the solstice tonight?”

“The solstice happens every year, Enid. The ritual will be fine without me there for a summer.”

With all the admonishing, Enid doesn’t hear Cora slip in with their things even when the twigs snap from behind her. She appears dressed but hair disheveled with dirt on her face. Enid imagines her face must look the same.

Subconsciously, she feels herself rubbing parts of her face that she doesn’t even know are dirty or not but feels rough enough that she thinks it must be.

In her peripheral vision, Wednesday purses her lips at the new arrival but Enid turns to give Wednesday a look that asks her to be civil. Wednesday only pouts at that.

“I um… figured you’d want me to pick up your stuff,” Cora awkwardly shuffles close to the two of them with her things extended with one hand.

Enid simply thanks her and takes her knapsack, searching for her underwear and pants within it so she doesn’t stay full commando at least. She doesn’t really feel like being a free woman in front of two close friends at the moment while coming down from her displeasure towards Wednesday’s continuing record of recklessness.

“So… who’s she?” Cora whispers with as much tact as possible, hidden slightly from Wednesday’s view as Cora eyes her curiously. If Wednesday hears it, she doesn’t give it away.

“The 1900s assassin,” Enid says, knowing Cora will understand the reference.

“Her?” Cora doubles back with an added shock. Cora moves a little to the left to spy at Wednesday with something like an inquisitive expression. Upon catching Wednesday’s unrelenting gaze, her demeanor shifts into a shy wave.

Wednesday adds a furrowed brow at the interaction, as does Enid’s.

Realizing quickly that Wednesday has never met Cora before, Enid indicates to each person as if it wasn’t obvious while she slips each leg through the holes of her underwear. “Wednesday, meet Cora. Cora, this is Wednesday.”

The pleasantries (or unpleasantries as Wednesday would word it) are traded. Cora is courteous to Wednesday by holding a hand out for her, but making sure not to force the interaction. Deciphering what Wednesday is thinking is a bit hard from the way she eyes her newer friend, but luckily, Wednesday reciprocates the outstretched hand.

When Enid’s lower half is aptly dressed, they tread through the rest of the woodlands to get to the lot. The conversation has more or less died with Enid not really facilitating a conversation, Wednesday not being a talker without one, and Cora being the awkward third person. The other two trail behind her almost in a line of ducklings until the ground goes from twigs and dirt to gravel and concrete.

It takes a few short seconds until the sound of a car door slamming shut invades her ears. At the sight of her girlfriend, Enid feels her heart soften at the half-asleep demeanor of Phoebe. She opens her arms widely to have Phoebe faceplanting herself into Enid’s body, snaking her arms over Enid’s torso. Enid looks down a little, kissing her little forehead as a lovely consequence.

Her girlfriend scrunches her face at her, a smile wide on her face while she pulls away to fix Enid’s tangled post-wolf hair. “Hello, beautifuls, did you have a good time?”

“It was good.” Enid rubs Phoebe’s shoulder to give her some warmth.

Cora walks ahead, coming just behind Enid. “Good as it can be. Home and a shower sounds amazing right now, TBH.”

“Perfect, ‘cause I’m so ready to lay on something soft. My back is killing me.”

“Your back is already giving out?” A slap gets delivered to Phoebe's back, shifting their weight a little.

“Aw! I don’t wanna hear anything about me being old! We’re two months apart, Cora,” Phoebe counters to her best friend, bringing a soft smirk to Enid’s face.

Cora cackles at her girlfriend while Phoebe swats at her friend and leans into Enid in annoyance. “Fine, let me be clearer. All your hours in front of a screen is killing your posture , Pheebs.”

The crunching of boots over gravel drags from behind, reminding Enid and frankly the rest of them that they’re not alone. Wednesday appears beside her much like a ghost in black and white, her deceptively low presence and black clothing bleed her into the darkness.

Phoebe looks over to where Wednesday is with a quick head maneuver over Enid’s shoulder. Almost immediately, she jumps at her best friend’s appearance and curses.

As her smile changes from one of amusement to one of weariness, Enid holds her tight so her girlfriend doesn’t fall or accidentally activate her fight or flight response on Wednesday of all people. She stands by the fact that it would be a losing battle for her girlfriend and she’s pretty sure Phoebe would hate to visit the hospital a second time in a year.

Enid’s hopes of introducing Wednesday like a normal person to her girlfriend are short lived when she lets out a panicked fangirl scream at the realization of who she’s looking at. Wednesday winces at the scream, though Phoebe’s none-the-wiser after jumping out of Enid’s arms and hiding behind Cora.

Without knowing the reason for Phoebe's reaction, another round of laughs erupt from her girlfriend’s best friend. Thankfully, Phoebe doesn’t explain out of respect for Wednesday's guarded open secret.

Before the fun can keep going any longer, Wednesday turns completely to Enid. “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Enid feels herself go rigid at Wednesday’s sudden declaration of leaving. Before Wednesday could get more distance between them, Enid snags the other woman’s sleeve. “Wait, wait. We can walk you to your car at least. Where did you park? Or… you Ubered?”

“Never enter a vehicle you’re not prepared to jump out of, Enid. I walked here,” Wednesday states nonchalantly like it’s a well-known fact, or like the alternative is generally better.

Inevitably, Enid feels she has to ask now because the closest towns are at least a twenty- or thirty-minute walk depending on which direction they’re coming from. And if Wednesday had come any time in the last 7-ish hours, she would have noticed her way earlier given that. “Just when did you get there and how long were you there?”

“What time is it now?” Wednesday inquires.

“2 in the morning?” Cora offers them because she’s already looking at her phone.

“Then about 12 hours.”

Enid squints. “And why were you there at 2 in the afternoon?”

“Scouting,” Wednesday says after a pause.

For what, Enid doesn’t know. Though hearing that, Enid shakes her head and has to wonder if Wednesday even took the time to eat. That question stays on her tongue unanswered when Phoebe comes back from her personal freak out session. “If you need a ride, you can hitch one with us!”

Enid turns to her girlfriend with mirth, squinted lids eying her with a type of humored suspicion. She loves that Phoebe suggested it, of course, but she has to wonder. “There better not be an ulterior motive with that, baby. Wednesday’s not a very chatty person if you want to ask her questions. She's even more hush-hush about you-know-what.”

Phoebe pauses and then innocently puckers her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Enid lets out a chuckle since her girlfriend knows at this point that she’s been read.

Wednesday speaks through their interaction, cutting her laughter short. “I’ll be fine walking.”

Cora finally takes the opportunity to say something, making a worried frown at Wednesday. “C’mon, we insist. You can’t expect Enid to be okay with you walking back to wherever like that. There’s more than enough space. Unless… two werewolves and a human are where you draw the line.”

Enid gives Wednesday a pleading look, pulling her best puppy face to the black-and-white girl. “She’s right. Please? Some of those wolves haven’t finished their run yet.”

The light wind breezed through them. The night speaks in her place as the crickets begin to sound and leaves rustle. Wednesday’s silence leaves the three of them restless but the distant howling of wolves from deeper in the forest supports her point.

Eventually, Wednesday’s seemingly impenetrable determination crumbles a tad as she blinks once, then a second time at Enid. Enid knows she’s got her the moment her smoky eyeshadow reveals itself to her.

At the slight hint of acquiesce, Enid gives her best friend a tender smile as her hand slides down Wednesday’s sleeve to take her wrist gingerly. There’s little resistance as she leads her to the station wagon. The other two follow as if corralling Wednesday towards it like herder dogs do to cattle into a pen, which is totes funny to imagine but she’s not going to lose her tongue by saying it out loud.

Aside from Wednesday’s instruction and the soft music in the background, Phoebe’s car does most of the talking. Wednesday doesn’t fully answer any questions that Cora and Phoebe asked to get to know her better, probably because she deems it private or she’s not interested in answering.

Through it all, Enid has her own questions that she keeps to herself because if Wednesday’s not answering simple icebreaker questions now, she’s definitely not answering more specific and complex ones either.

Enid supposes that’s to be expected when Wednesday is already naturally the closed off type and suddenly gets stuck in the same space as two unfamiliar people.

Even all the way up to the moment Phoebe drops her off at the street corner of a home where Wednesday claims to be staying, she’s silent. Enid doesn’t believe for a moment that the house that Phoebe’s dropped her off at is Wednesday’s weekend residence yet she allows Wednesday to leave with a monotone ‘thank you’ to Phoebe and a ‘goodbye’ to everyone else.

Wednesday takes only a few steps towards the front door of the house as Phoebe pulls off at the insistence of her author bestie.

As they drive away, she tries to keep Wednesday in her field of view until she’s sure that Wednesday enters the house safely.

“By the way, babe?” Phoebe says, taking Enid from her focus. Enid hums to let her girlfriend know she has her attention. “Where’d you get that coat? It’s really soft, but it didn’t strike me as your style. Are you trying somethin’ new?”

It takes a second for Enid to remember that she’s still wearing Wednesday’s coat and clinging onto the warmth it provides. The fact that she’s still technically half naked makes her more aware. In the next moment, her eyes roll towards the rearview mirror again. Wednesday reappears on the sidewalk again as a dark spot in the background, unmoving before backing away and heading in another direction.

The fact that the home isn’t hers’ is less of a doubt to her now, but the more jarring fact that Wednesday’s gaze never leaves her isn’t lost on her either.

“Yeah, I… I guess.”

–

Alright, soo… Enid might be a bit of an asshole for jumping to conclusions. More than a bit actually.

That’s the reality of things after she opens her phone for the second or third time in most of the day other than just looking at the time or watching a quick video. All the way at the bottom of her notifications, she finds two messages from none other than Wednesday in the early morning that read:

‘ Hello Enid. ’

‘ I will be arriving in your approximate area in roughly an hour for some personal business. If you’d like to coordinate a time to meet in the next few days, please let me know. ’

So like, haha, Wednesday actually did text her about being here like a few hours in the morning and it wasn’t like Wednesday had left her out of the loop at all. Enid just… didn’t see it.

Whoops…

Okay but hear her out!

The time Wednesday’s messages were received was in the pocket between Enid’s nap and when she would have gone to work at the summer program. But then she called out sick for the rest of the week and spent the time groaning at what feels like arthritis and a sunburn in her joints or trying to sleep through it, so she didn’t really check her phone.

It’s not a great excuse. It’s not supposed to be an excuse at all, really, but it’s an explanation and she still feels pretty bad about how she took it.

A part of her wonders why Wednesday didn’t just explode back at her and tell her that she did. In fact, it would have been better if she did so Enid could apologize on the spot.

Maybe that’s whatever to Wednesday now that it’s passed, but it’s not whatever to Enid.

It’s barely an hour since they last dropped Wednesday off. Still the dead morning of Friday.

Enid is sitting on her usual comfortable spot on Phoebe’s couch when she first reads through the messages four times and gets hit with a wave of trepidation after every read. Beside her, Phoebe is clueless about her silent panic while she browses a selection from their streaming subscriptions for their new tradition of late night post-moon time.

Eventually, a squeaking from the shared bathroom and the subsequent door opening signals Cora finishing her shower and leaving for her room, taking Enid out of her mind when Phoebe leans in to kiss her cheek.

“I’m gonna tag in for a shower. You pick the show or movie? I’m in the mood for whatever you want.”

Enid gives a small smile through the shock of reading Wednesday’s messages and nods to her girlfriend.

When the cold finally finishes washing through her, she’s already running through a speech to say to Wednesday. She essentially forgets it’s three-thirty in the morning when her phone begins ringing incessantly.

All the way up until the last ring is when Wednesday picks up finally.

“ It’s quite early to call, isn’t it? ”

“I’m still kinda working off the wolf zoomies.”

“ Hm, you always did require an extra hour at doggy daycare to rid you of your… ‘zoomies’. ”

“Haha, real funny,” Enid says, flatly. Their definition of the so-called doggy daycare was a camping night in the woods after a wolf-out. When she came back to her things in the late night, sometimes a small camp was set up with only basic necessities. Sometimes it was just a fire, sometimes it was just a blanket on the ground but never a tent. It was a routine Wednesday took upon herself after Enid’s post-moon things were found maliciously sabotaged a few times by a jealous schoolmate.

They didn’t really stay for more than a couple of hours before heading back to their room. Sometimes the Nightshades would invite themselves, much to Wednesday’s chagrin, but it was a special thing they had despite how it started.

At the remembrance of this, it occurs to her that maybe… was Wednesday trying to recreate that?

Enid snaps herself out of her memories when Wednesday calls out her name. The way she says it asks her for her attention and why she called. Sighing, Enid bites her lip, “I wanted to apologize. For the outburst earlier. I didn’t know you texted me. I haven’t really been looking at my phone the whole day.”

“ Yes, I’ve deduced that. ” Wednesday says, surprising Enid.

Enid leans onto the elbow of the couch she’s sitting on, leaning deeply into the oversized pillow and tracing the minimalist shapes on the cover. “Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

“ Listening to you apologize for being busy again would be grating for the ears. Why give you the opportunity? ”

Pouting, Enid can see where Wednesday would come to that conclusion. Sometimes she still catches herself apologizing for stuff that she just can’t help.

At some point after whining about missing the visit to Wednesday’s home the third time in a month, Wednesday did not particularly seem happy to remind her of what it meant to be true to herself and unapologetic about it. Enid hadn’t even noticed she’d reeled back from that.

Somewhere along the lines, she had forgotten that after they lost touch because she was afraid of losing their friendship again. The kind of bond they had was irreplaceable to her and not something that was easily trifled with. (Ask anyone from Nevermore!)

But she didn’t want to mourn their friendship again if things went wrong. Could anyone blame her if she feared her “unapologetic absence” being perceived as the source for their broken friendship?

(Also maybe her inner child just wanted a break too. Was that so wrong? Her bones were weary with work, and it was different from taking part in all those school extracurriculars in Nevermore simultaneously.)

But in this case, an apology is just natural if someone (aka her ) made a mistake! The mistake being that she didn’t have a ground to stand on to lecture Wednesday for not telling her. Plus, she wasn’t really… busy… except maybe to catch up on sleep or wait out the ache.

“But the apology wouldn’t be about being busy. I yelled at you wrongly for not telling me you were here when I would have known if I’d looked at my messages today.”

“ Whether or not you knew I was here, I would have been there tonight. Your reaction is not completely unreasonable either given the recent history. The discussion was bound to occur under similar circumstances despite your best efforts no matter the knowledge. ”

“That might be true but it’s still not right, Wednesday. Before you get any ideas, I’m not sorry for being busy or that I was worried; I still would have gotten upset that you were in the woods and you’re right, I still would have freaked out on you for it. I’m just sorry that I blamed you for my ignorance and you have to accept that.” Enid says this all in one breath.

Then she corrects herself when she realizes how that last part sounds. “I mean— you don’t have to accept the apology. I just mean that you have to accept that I’m going to apologize to you sometimes.”

“ You’re particularly adamant on this. ”

“Oh, I am. So next time I do something like that, just hit me with the truth, alright? Just say it even if it hurts.”

“ Making your own bed, aren’t you, wolf?”

Enid scoffs, “I’m a big girl, Willa.”

Wednesday lets out a sound close to an amused huff. After a few more pointless back-and-forths, Wednesday finally concedes.

At some point, the opportunity presents itself for Enid to ask her what she’s doing here and if she really was staying at the house that Phoebe dropped her off at. (The answer was ‘no’ by the way.)

As it turns out, Wednesday really is here for a few days doing exactly what said she was – scouting.

Wednesday only explains to her what she means since they’re in private, just the two of them. Her latest book follows another character's perspective temporarily as Viper gets captured. It's supposed to be set in the summer and closely follows the previous book where Viper discovers a conspiracy at the end that implies the gruesome deaths in the first book weren’t as random as the then-teenage detective led the public to think.

Why the forest is involved, she has absolutely no idea, but the continued mention of the series keeps kicking her in the butt as a reminder that she has yet to read Wednesday’s series. Her overactive imagination has her dreading the pictures in her head, but maybe it’s not that bad? (Which is a little doubtful knowing Wednesday.) With the summer program almost finished, she figures it’ll soon be the perfect time to start.

Wednesday is about to get more detailed about her ideas before the sound of a door opening warns her of a new presence. Cora rounds the hallway, freshly changed and catching Enid’s attention as the other werewolf bee-lines to the kitchen.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go. Can we still do dinner? Or lunch?”

“ I may have to move some appointments around, ” Wednesday says.

Enid snickers at Wednesday’s attempt at a joke because Wednesday just said that she didn’t have anything planned besides scouting locations for her book moments before. “Okay, I’ll let you know later. Good night, you ghoul.”

A chuffed snort, a soft goodbye, and then the call ends.

Finally able to focus on picking something for them to watch, Enid scans through the selection and picks a random action-suspense that kind of interests her. Entering the kitchen, Cora is already prepping snacks for the three of them with a popcorn pack thrown into the microwave. Enid sets to work helping Cora out with the mission, taking two large bowls out for the popcorn.

“You didn’t have to end the call, y’know?” Cora says, pulling a container of fruit salad she prepared earlier in the day.

“No, I know. Wednesday’s a pretty private person so…”

“No kidding, that was not an enlightening car ride. I kinda get what you mean by kooky now though,” Cora says, snatching a water bottle from the kitchen. “Soda or water? Be warned, we’ve only got Phoebe’s off-brand Diet Coke.”

Enid’s face twists, not that she’s surprised because she’s used to Phoebe’s taste buds at this point. “Water, no contest.” Enid catches the bottle she’s thrown and cracks it open.

“Speaking of which, you’ve been holding out,” Cora says, pulling out cups and spoons for the fruit.

Enid takes a long swig from the bottle, sending Cora a curious look.

“Little Miss Assassin is quite a looker,” Cora shrugs with a conspiratorial smirk. “Be honest, is she an ex? Is she into monsters like us?”

Water goes up her nose at the question because whoa, what? No, they’re just best friends! Enid coughs violently, trying to collect her bearings. “N-no, I— Wednesday’s probably like, aro or something. I dunno, she’s not really the love type of person. She cringes when she sees a couple.”

Cora hums at Enid, collecting fruit into her own cup and finishing it up with a dollop of whipped cream, “I respect an aro queen, but it doesn’t sound like you’re sure. Cringing at PDA isn’t necessarily an aro thing. I mean, I cringe at you and Phoebe sometimes too but I’m not against dating or falling in love. Maybe she just shows attraction differently than what you think.”

The microwave beeps, interrupting their conversation. Enid takes the moment to tease the other girl half-heartedly, “What, are you interested?”

Cora smiles at her wryly and shrugs, putting a water bottle and a soda under her arm and carrying her fruit cup and the whipped cream can in each hand, “She’s a beautiful gal but I’m just sayin’. Bring the popcorn when you’re done, ya?”

“Yeah, I got it. You can just start the show when Phoebe gets back,” Enid says. As Cora disappears past the transparent barrier of the kitchen and the living room, Enid finds herself in her mind a little. That combined with the action of filling the bowls with popcorn makes a slow process in the end.

Cora made a point. Wednesday had never elaborated on her thoughts of love past their initial talk about it back in their sophomore year and she didn’t take too well when she mentioned Wednesday’s date with Tyler one time (understandably). But Wednesday was definitely one to show ‘love’ differently than others. It was demonstrated by her violent protectiveness, her unspoken integrity, and caring intentions hidden behind caustic words and a cold voice.

Enid likes to think she knows Wednesday but not all love looks the same, and well, maybe Wednesday’s distaste for love doesn’t mean she’s lost a taste for it at all. Also, kind of labeling someone as something they don’t identify as is super rude and mean.

The sound of the movie starting draws her back to the present, bidding her to leave behind her thoughts. When she watches the main character of the show throw out blistering words to the people around them and push them away while sacrificing their sanity for others, Enid doesn’t expect herself to get so invested.

But as she watches the movie on Phoebe’s shoulder, she can’t help but find the similarities between the main character and one black-and-white psychic she knows.

–

It’s Saturday noon when she meets with Wednesday again, just a day after Wednesday’s surprise visit and their call.

With Wednesday being here for a few days to scout, her plan of treating Wednesday to a meal of any sort goes into effect. Since Wednesday is only here until Sunday morning and Enid is filling in for someone on Saturday night at the diner, this time is the best they can manage.

Enid has it all planned out. She won’t be telling Wednesday about her plan to pay for the whole meal, of course; that’s an amateur move.

She knows a pretty awesome Thai-Indian fusion place nearby. The drive is only a 20-minute drive somewhere in the city-slash-town and the food there is supes delish and totes worth the price for how much they give. Mama Nim’s Kitchen has raised her on more than one occasion in the past two years and the owners are absolute sweethearts.

In fact, if the parking there wasn’t limited and hard to find and delivery didn’t cost so much, she would stop by a lot more.

Anyway, this place makes a spicy curry so mean that no one has beaten its challenger level before, which is sure to garner Wednesday’s interest.

From their days in Nevermore, she remembers Wednesday having the taste buds worse than the deceased. It was best displayed when she ate some spice monstrosity that Kent had put together for a game of ‘ Truth, Dare, or Eat ’ for a Nightshades game night. Wednesday had selected ‘Eat’ every single time by choice , inspired by the fact that everyone else was afraid to.

The most amusing thing to come out of it was when Ajax and Kent had thrown up their dinner trying to size Wednesday up and call her out on her bluff when she claimed it wasn’t spicy enough.

The two of them didn’t have a pretty time in the toilet for days. And Wednesday? She was 100% fine.

Enid’s pretty sure Wednesday doesn’t have a car if she had to walk to the woods so Enid offers to pick up Wednesday first. And because she knows where to go without a GPS and refuses to say where, Wednesday has to agree and gives Enid the actual address of where she’s staying.

But when Enid somehow wakes up at 12:30 in the afternoon instead of 10 in the morning like she planned, she curses all the stars that she could see in the sky. She was supposed to pick Wednesday up at 12, but instead, she’s still in bed after closing her eyes for an extra 5 minutes.

A few texts from Wednesday go unanswered. What gets her to wake up is her phone screaming a haunting song that Wednesday had sent her one time.

Enid accepts the call and shoots out of her bed. Her head spins at how fast she gets up that almost hits her head into her half-wall running to her bathroom.

“I overslept, I overslept! Sorry! I closed my eyes for like five minutes and it’s 12:30!” Enid hears the built rasp in her voice as she coughs to clear it. 

“ Hmm, I was beginning to wonder if you forgot. ”

“I’d never forget about you,” Enid says, moving on before she could be embarrassed. Shoving her toothbrush in her mouth, she muffles, “I’ll be there in like 30 minutes.”

“ Surely not in your nightshirt? ”

“No, silly, not in my nightshirt. But maybe like 45 instead?” Enid says but it comes out more like a question when she thinks about her routine.

On days when there’s class, getting there looking all put together isn’t really at the top of her list anymore when she has a girlfriend and a drop dead schedule most of the time. Plus it gives her an extra 30 minutes of sleep dropping that part of her schedule altogether. But it’s the summer and she’s not going to classes but meeting Wednesday (also to work after but that’s another thing). That’s probably a minimum of half an hour to finish before she steps out the door.

“ I doubt you'd make it here in 45 minutes, ” Wednesday says.

“Wanna bet?” Enid challenges, but Wednesday doesn’t take the bait.

“ Just send me your address. ”

“I can make it though,” Enid pushes after spitting out the bubbles and excess toothpaste.

“ Don’t be stubborn. It will save you the rush and me the shame of waiting like an idiot. ”

Okay, ouch but true.

“Fine.” It takes a little but she types her address to Wednesday instead of her location because she’s not sure if Wednesday will know how to use that. “But how are you going to get here? Are you going to Uber here? That’ll probably take even longer than me getting there at this point.”

“ No, Enid. I’m still barred from that application. As well as the other ones ,” Wednesday says, bringing her the memory of that one spontaneous trip to the Canadian border to chase after an overzealous cult leader trying to recruit Nevermore students to their cause in their junior year. “ I have my own transportation. ”

“ You have your own transportation,” Enid emphasizes. “What was the point of walking to the woods then?”

“ Viper did not have a means of transportation after the crash at the end of the third book. More importantly, scouting locations are much easier to do on foot. ”

Enid clocks that detail instantly, “Does that mean you crashed your car in the last two years we weren’t talking?”

“ Despite my greatest efforts, Lurch was uncompromising with my brothers and I about ruining his personal vehicle. ”

“Thank the moon for that.”

“ But if anyone asks, Thing was not a very lucid driver. ”

“ Oh my god ,” Enid breathes under her breath, adding something before Wednesday can hang up. “I’ll see you soon then. Just don’t hit anyone on the way here!”

“ Hm, what’s the fun in that? ” Wednesday ends before Enid could say anything. Enid lets out an exasperated laugh but opts not to think about it.

20 minutes later, Enid is finished with her shower and dressing in her prepared outfit. The only thing left is to apply her makeup.

Wednesday is already sitting at the mini dining table that separates the kitchen and her living-bedroom space. Somehow, she seems to have found some miracle parking in the guest parking lots—which almost never has any open spots—and has made it all the way here. (Or maybe she didn’t even park in the right spot at all… That’s for future Enid to worry about.)

Admittedly, this does save her the stress of speed driving all the way down to Wednesday’s place and she can take her time putting on her makeup.

When she turns around to check on Wednesday, the other woman is observing her place like a hawk. It’s not really that big honestly but it’s still big enough not to feel claustrophobic.

“By the way,” Enid starts just as she’s about to finish setting her lipstick. “The Nightshades are planning a reunion soon if you wanna join. Bianca asked me to ask you.”

“I reject the notion that I was ever a part of that childish club.”

Enid turns to give her a skeptical look, “Yeah? Then why did you keep going when I asked?”

“Moments of weakness, I assure you,” Wednesday says, her attention quickly brought towards her academic bookshelf. “I served as a stark contrast to their juvenile activities.”

“Just because you refused to accept the mask and robe doesn’t mean you weren’t a part of it.”

Wednesday finishes leafing through one of the books but lingers staring at one. It’s hard to tell which because of the angle though. Eventually, Wednesday gives a response with a following sigh and slides the book back into the shelf as if nothing was ever removed. “Regrettably, you may be right.”

“If you go, you’ll get to meet little Genie again. Though, he’s kind of shot up like a tree since we last saw him.”

Wednesday grimaces and then gestures towards the door after. “I’ll think about it. Shall we?”

All Enid does is latch onto Wednesday’s arm and leads her out the door.

Eventually, Enid finds out that Wednesday did not , in fact, park in the right spot at all so she has to offer her to park in her spot before she gets caught.

(For the record, the fact that no one has come by to tow the car for parking in front of two cars and the loading zone is a huge miracle… but she can also clearly tell it’s on purpose when she asks Wednesday about it.)

At least everything from the drive there to finding parking and then getting seated is nice.

After Wednesday's quick introduction and a conversation with Mama Nim and her husband about how things are, the food finally arrives.

Expectedly, the hottest item on the menu doesn’t even disturb Wednesday in the slightest when she eats all of it and gets her picture taken as the singular winning challenger. Enid laughs when Wednesday mentions they should use hotter peppers and more in numbers, which is probably more than what they can legally give without serving the actual pepper itself. Mama Nim's husband's face twitches at the audacity when he, a self-proclaimed spice foodie, can't even eat it.

Through it all, Enid can’t help but feel like this was natural when she catches herself playing footsie with Wednesday under the table.

Chapter Text

When Sunday morning of June 30th comes, Enid still has her head in the pillows. Even past the black-out curtains that aren’t hers, she can tell it’s way past the time she’d normally be getting up. If it was any day of the week, Enid would be losing her mind for being late to work. But the fact of the matter is…

She’s free!!

…

Okay, fine, it’s her mornings that are free.

Even if it’s just a small difference, the difference is just enough not to let her down. Just this past Friday, the last shift of the summer program rounded to a close with a party between all the kids and other staff in the program. 6-weeks of teaching kids how to do arts and crafts, and build and paint canoes (which she was apparently uniquely qualified for because of the years doing the Poe Cup) completely over!

A part of her felt a little sad knowing she probably would not see any of these kids or the staff anymore, but she definitely would not miss ultra short naps and waking at 6am to prep getting to the camp-like center. But besides, the effort of it is feeling pretty darned paid off when she thinks about the money sitting comfortably in her account.

And sure, the money will eventually be spent but the celebration won’t be killed just because she has to start working again. Why let it get her down?

So even though she already wakes up with Phoebe in her arms or vice versa almost every weekend, this weekend feels extra good. Now, the idea of sleeping over more with Phoebe over the weekdays is enticing.

Speaking of which…

“Morning, shleepyhead,” Phoebe whispers, sneaking a kiss to her temple. “I know you’re awake.”

“I’m not awake. Don’t you see me still snoring?” Enid says with her eyes closed and suppressing a smile. She feigns a snore in between to sell the joke.

“Cute,” Phoebe says. Enid can feel the covers shift a little as Phoebe sits up. The weight stirs and the covers expose her to a bit of the cooled room. “Well, I guess if you’re asleep, you won’t mind me doing the waking ritual.”

A beat passes but Phoebe is still slowly bringing herself over to the other end of the bed. The bed bounces a little like Phoebe’s doing a little fun dance.

“Don’t even think about it,” Enid says, peeking one eye open. Phoebe situates herself at the other end of the bed, hand snaking down the comforter towards Enid’s foot.

Phoebe gives her a bold smile, “Sorry, sleep talkers don’t have rights, love.”

“You– Stop—!”

It takes not a second more before Phoebe goes on the attack, taking hold of Enid’s foot and dragging her fingertips against the inner side of it.

Enid can’t help the scream that she lets out at the ticklish sensation and tugs her tickled foot closer to her while pushing Phoebe by the shoulder with her other foot. That gets her to let go of the leg luckily. But she fails miserably in staving off her tickling attacker when Phoebe slips in between her legs and pounces right on top of her.

Every time Phoebe’s hands strive toward her midriff, Enid intervenes. When her shirt pulls up enough that she feels fingertips, Enid screams and pushes the hands away with haste, laughing all the way. All the while, the darker haired girl yells gleefully, “She awakes, does she!”

Eventually, Enid flips them over to hover above the brunette. Her hands grasp tightly in Phoebe’s, arms matched above her head. All Phoebe gives is her gummy smile at her loss, “Oh how I miss those cerulean blues, my beast.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, my gooey romantic.” Enid leans into the crook of her neck before pulling back to give her girlfriend a stern look, letting Phoebe contemplate what her next move is, though she suspects her girlfriend already knows. “Don’t do that again.”

“Oh but if it gets you on top of me every time, I can promise you I always will,” Phoebe smirks, sticking out a bit of her tongue.

Enid lets an amused scoff, intrigued to match her lover’s provocation. She leans in closer to pepper a few kisses on the curve of Phoebe’s jaw. Phoebe sighs when her lips graze upon her skin. The gradual distance brings her face to face, nose to nose to her girlfriend until eventually their lips meet.

“See?” Phoebe says in between kisses. “Rewarded for my crimes.”

“Shut up,” Enid retorts as she relents from her attack after a few seconds. Phoebe only laughs.

Enid lays atop her girlfriend, releasing her hands, as temptation dissipates from Phoebe’s smugness. Her body melds into the smaller form on the mattress like an easy puzzle piece.

The smell of sweet vanilla and minuscule tones of nutmeg waft, inviting the feeling of safety and peace despite the rude wake up call. Arms circle around her neck, bringing another taste of security. Even though she’s awoken so abruptly, Enid still feels blessed that she woke beside the one she calls her girlfriend on this day.

For a moment, her mind floats, almost drifting back to sleep at the comfort when Phoebe speaks up. “I have something to ask you.”

Enid hums to let her know she’s listening. Phoebe continues. “So… it’s June 30th today.”

When Enid doesn’t connect the dots of mentioning the date, likely because of her lethargy, Phoebe has to say more. “Thursday is July 4th?”

Then it clicks, sucking the sleepiness right out of her. Oh Goddess, it’s July 4th. The week of ungodly loud popping all around the country, also easily the most audibly grating day of the year for any werewolf without noise-canceling headphones and a sensitive nose besides New Years.

Enid groans, “ Nooo , Phoebe…”

“I know it’s really short notice, but it won’t be that bad! I told them to do less this year!”

“Babe, those fireworks are illegal with how loud they are. Actually, they’re illegal, period . Doing less doesn’t matter if it feels like my ears are going to burst every time they light one up,” Enid complains. “And your uncle gave me the stink eye last time for being ungrateful and unpatriotic because I left early and ‘it’s the only way to enjoy the 4th of July’!”

“Uncle Romney is a fanatic , don’t mind him. And he isn’t coming this year,” Phoebe says. Enid lifts her head slightly at that and looks at Phoebe with a face of confusion. That doesn’t sound right knowing what she saw last year when she went and met her family.

“Okay, well, actually he got caught trying to smuggle the fireworks over the state line from New Hampshire and they found reasons to keep him until after which is ironic—but c’mon, my parents love you! You don’t have to stay the whole time if you don’t want to!”

Enid sighs, wondering if it’s possible to drown deeper into the comfort.

Phoebe cringes a little at the reaction. “I’m sorry, E. You don’t have to go. You were so busy that I didn’t want to bring it up until you had time.”

To be honest, Enid has nothing against fireworks itself. In fact, it’s her opinion that they’re a love letter to the night sky; a spark of lights speaking the language of the stars. She loved them as a child, back when her kiddie ears hadn’t sharpened up.

Even now, she’d even dare to say she still loves them, but at a distance.

Her wolf ears and slightly more sensitive hearing couldn’t take them from up close after wolfing out. Maybe little sprinkler fireworks – she likes those too and they don’t make too much noise.

But god, lighting up the normal ones at the approximate distance that they’re often at is just begging for a bleeding ear. The illegal , illegal ones that make the ground shake and cars from two neighborhoods down choir are absolutely atrocious for her hearing.

And Phoebe’s family never pulls any of the stops.

“It’s okay, B. I’ll think about it, okay?” Enid says.

Deciding to change the topic, Phoebe nods and looks up to the ceiling. She takes it as a chance to find her hand and weave theirs together, planting a kiss on her knuckle. “Are you going to head back to your apartment after work tonight?”

“I guess. I haven’t cleaned my studio room in the past few weeks and it’s feeling a little cluttered.”

“Just stay here forever and ignore it. You know my philosophy – Out of sight, out of mind!”

Enid guffaws. “Yeah, that’s probably why your closet is full of clothes you haven’t folded since pulling them out of the laundry two days ago .”

“How dare you! At least I did my laundry.”

Pulling her neck back again, Enid waits for Phoebe to look at her before she expresses her most unamused face to her.

“No matter what look you give me, my argument still stands. You practically stay here every weekend when you aren’t working anyway.”

“Well if I stayed here all the time, there’d be no point in keeping my studio bedroom. And we’d probably drive Cora up the walls at night by week two and I’d get kicked out anyway.”

Phoebe laughs at the insinuation. “I get it, E. I’ve learned from last time. Rule #1 of having a roommate: Don’t traumatize the roommate.”

Enid smirks remembering the time Cora had kicked the wall connecting to Phoebe’s because they were too loud, and pecks a kiss on her cheek. They could laugh about it now but it was mortifying at first because they’d thought they were… quiet, but clearly… not so much. “Exactly.”

Now too energized to stay lazy in bed with the help of her girlfriend, Enid decides that she should get ready for the day anyway. Judging by how high the sun is in the sky, they’re way past the early morning now. Without any surprise due to Phoebe’s propensity for sleeping in the cold, the apartment is still rumbling with the air conditioning.

So she gifts Phoebe one last peck on the lips and lifts herself up. In the action, her hand pulls out from her girlfriend’s hold with her still straddling the smaller woman. “I’m going to get ready for the morning since I was so rudely awoken. Are you joining me, your Rudeness, or do I have to ask karma for help?”

Phoebe puckers her lips in a pout, drawing loops on Enid’s knees, “I’d rather just make out with my gorgeous, amazing, and beautiful girlfriend in bed.”

Enid hums, pursing her mouth and pretending indecision. “A hard bargain… Karma, it is then!”

Enid gets out of bed before Phoebe can try any other tricks, pulling the covers all the way back and dropping them off the bed so her girlfriend would have no choice but to get up rather than snuggle up in the blankets.

Grabbing a pair of pajama shorts at the backrest of Phoebe’s desk chair, Enid throws them at her. “I’ll see you in the living room! Or the kitchen, you can pick.”

The only thing she gets is Phoebe’s groan leaving the room, sparking a giggle to escape her lips.

–

July 4th comes a lot faster than Enid gave it credit for and she isn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. It’s a weird mixture of both really.

Once Phoebe mentioned the party the first time, the topic didn’t come up again. The respect and lack of pressure in making a decision was appreciated honestly, but Enid already knew she had little intention of saying no in the first place for one very important reason.

Even before dating, Enid realized early in their friendship that the date was an important time for Phoebe that day they shared a list of personal fun facts about themselves.

Some fun facts Enid gave were that she used to do gymnastics, could recognize and identify any font on the computer (including the letters for webdings and wingdings!), and was a Tuesday Full Moon baby. The last one wasn’t as fun of a fact with or without knowing the implications and her family history, but fun facts were supposed to be about random nonsense sometimes anyway, right? (No, she does not want to be asked if she was born from a werewolf’s womb or a human’s.)

For Phoebe’s, she could recite the first 100 digits of pi, was a ballet girlie in middle school before dropping it for basketball, and that she was born as the 7th baby in the whole family on the 7th of July at 7 in the morning, so her family is super annoying about the number being her lucky number. A “7” baby all around.

With her birthday falling on the 7th of that month, her birthday aligns all too well with the holiday, making it easy for the family to conflate the celebration or make it a 4-day event. For them, everyone gathers around to celebrate since they’re already there and they spare little expense with the cost of both events.

But that’s not what makes July 4th special. 

For a lot of them, like her Uncle Romney, blowing up fireworks is more than tradition. A firework blown away is a candle for each year Phoebe’s been alive and a wish for many more. The bigger, the better, the more to bless her with another amazing year. It’s a beautiful testament of love, and Enid knows how important that is.

Even if Phoebe calls it cringe-worthy and embarrassing, she knew her lover would not want it any other way. And for her, it was anything but ‘annoying’ when she saw the nostalgic glee that her girlfriend had seeing the sky decorated with rainbow sparks last year. What else could it be but appreciation?

So even if she doesn’t like the sound of the fireworks, noise canceling headphones and her latest created playlist will have to do their jobs. If Phoebe is happy with her just being there, then just a night should be alright and maybe she can tolerate the smell too.

Still, a lingering, unpleasant feeling at spending the day with Phoebe’s family sticks to her.

No, it’s not that she doesn’t like Phoebe’s family. She really likes them, actually!

Phoebe’s mom and dad and the siblings she’s met are pretty great to Enid. They’ve accepted her as Phoebe’s girlfriend so far, and kindly at that. She can feel the kind of love Phoebe’s been wrapped around her whole life at how fast she was accepted.

With the way her parents frets over her inconspicuously and prepares tubs of food for her to bring to the apartment after every visit, the way her slightly younger brother Cooper wraps his arms around her and twirls her around when he sees her, and the way her younger sister Elaine hangs over her neck, it’s hard to see it as anything but love.

Enid envies that kind of love. She feels bad to think that it always weighs heavy to see her girlfriend surrounded by it because she misses it so much. She’s been missing it since they had discovered she was a late bloomer and she still missed it after she had wolfed out.

But she does have to admit that it helps a lot to see that they try to include her in whatever feels comfortable for them. Still, she knows she’s not a part of their family and a part of her always craves.

…So no, it’s not Phoebe’s closest family that she’s dreading seeing.

It all boils down to seeing everyone else. Aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends, and all those other people that she hasn’t had the mental space to remember.

The number of people that attend is numerous and varies by the year from what Phoebe has told her. Sometimes they move the parties in the company of different places to make sure there’s enough space. The sheer sum of attendees is probably enough to rival the numbers of the Addams’ family, but they don’t come with a fun moniker and story attached to them like Wednesday’s family does.

She’s perfectly fine with meeting them all… but the passive aggressive—and honestly xenophobic, the more they try to defend themselves—remarks about outcasts some of them gossip about really rub Enid the wrong way. (Like how sirens get whatever they want, how vampires don’t have to do anything to look young, how facelesses don’t have to care about how they look, or how werewolves are naturally strong and all that dumb shit. If only they knew the troubles it came with.)

Phoebe stepped in multiple times to tell them to stop last year but it’s tiring to try changing the mind of people who can’t see what’s wrong with saying these things in the first place. Being the only defender of their passive jabs would only make her the aggressor instead. A lose-lose situation, way too similar to how fights with her ‘mother’ came about.

It’s probably because she looks ‘normal’ compared to the others that they felt comfortable enough to say it. No scales, or fangs and exsanguination, or invisible eyes, or obvious giveaways of unkempt crazy hair with split ends. She also doesn’t make it a habit to announce her outcast status on the first introduction anyway, but it goes to show what kind of relationship these people have with ‘her kind’ as they’ve put it.

So if she can avoid it altogether, Enid will usually steer clear. That’s the mission the moment she crosses the front door of the large single-story home that Phoebe’s family must have rented out for the whole week.

On the drive there, Phoebe says that this year will be easier, promises that she won’t ask her to stay for more than she’s comfortable, and Enid trusts in her judgment of that. Plus it’s too late to turn back after the two-and-a-half hour drive anyway.

But it’s about three hours in at around 4PM when something happens.

Enid watches from her seat on the couch as Phoebe gets pulled left and right by her aunts and uncles to say the same seven things about how she’s doing while they make her meet new people at the party. Phoebe didn’t want her to stress about making an impression this year and Enid finds herself barely content being away from her girlfriend. She’d rather be smothered beside Phoebe instead of in between her cousins and other unfamiliars.

When Bobbi, one of the cousins, gives a thoughtless comment about how “it’s weird that you don’t like fireworks when it’s so important to Phoebe and the rest of the family,” the others suddenly have something to say too. It’s a little overwhelming when all eyes point towards her in a way that she’s no longer familiar with since Nevermore.

Her first instinct is to pacify the group and go along with it or give her reasons. But then they ask if she’s ever liked them, or if she’s just being ‘too sensitive’ in a semi-condescending tone.

Enid growls at it. Very quickly, she decides she’s tired of being ‘barely content’ and gets up to go to the restroom for a refresher. She already knows she’s not coming back to that particular group of idiots too, grabbing her pink backpack as she heads towards another direction.

Bitterly, she remembers childhood memories where she and her brothers used to play with the same fireworks that she abhors hearing now. It reminds her how love has its boundaries that it phases past when she thinks about how her parents must have endured the same sounds she hates hearing now—and some that it never does when she remembers how easy she was to cut off for being gay—and she can’t help but feel a little spiteful instead of thankful for those memories.

Enid’s eyes go warm before she looks up and gives herself a moment to calm down. She’s let herself cry enough about it.

Then out of nowhere the first firework flares minutes after leaving the restroom, catching Enid by surprise because night has yet to fall despite its promise towards sunset. The sun sits in the sky, not yet at the horizon, when Enid flinches at the sound. It’s not one of the ones that scream fortunately, just a single pop like a party popper.

Still, she catches when Phoebe turns to look at her just as apprehensively as she does, both of them waiting for another sound. Phoebe takes the time to abandon her conversation with family members and get to Enid as quickly as possible to lead her elsewhere.

Once they find a seat somewhere a little more private with Enid’s pink backpack in hand, Phoebe runs a hand over her shoulder, massaging the tension and holding the other hand out for her to grab.

When a few minutes pass and no other booms happen, she tries to assure her, smiling, “It must be one of the neighbors a little bit down the way. Do you have your headphones?”

Enid laughs uneasily. “Yeah, I got ‘em, you’re probably right.”

No other sounds happen for a few more minutes, easing her worries. Enid is inclined to believe her more as the minutes go by and nothing else happens. Regardless, she keeps her backpack on her lap as a way of comfort.

“See, probably just a stray—” Phoebe starts when a second one goes off—even louder now—and then a collection more. Phoebe curses at someone or something. “Stay here, lemme go and check.”

While Phoebe disappears out the door, a row of curious eyes follows her and Enid gets to rummaging through her bag. A rushed job as another boom happens, ringing her ears. It’s not nearly as loud to incapacitate her. The sound level of the firework hasn't broken the ceiling yet and it isn’t the kind that completely rattles her brain and her senses, but it’s uncomfortable.

It’s occurred to her before that she doesn’t bat an eyelash in situations where she’s sitting in a room with her favorite music vibrating the walls, or her friends screaming Bloody Mary at party games, or among other similar situations. In fact, it’s easy to focus on isolating them and drowning them out when she knows when to expect it.

Maybe it’s because she knows when those other things are going to happen that makes it easy, but the sound of the loud and immediate bursts in her vicinity is just a random auditory assault to her. She doesn’t know the science behind it; she just knows she can’t stand it and neither does any other werewolf she’s known.

When her hands reach the bottom of the backpack, she realizes something is wrong. Sometimes she finds the most random things that she wouldn’t have imagined to get lost in the bag, but her headphones aren’t something that could easily get lost in it when it takes up a portion of the bag in its compact form.

She eventually pulls everything from the backpack — a change of clothes, a travel kit, wallet and keys, a mobile charger, sunglasses, sunscreen, a mini portable mist-spray fan for the heat, and a small makeup kit. No headphones.

Confused, Enid runs the memory of this morning in her head. She definitely had them when she went over to Phoebe’s early this morning.

When she arrived, Cora had opened the door for her because Phoebe was running around like a headless chicken getting ready, likely having woken up late again. Because of her scrambling, Cora offered her baking services so long as they left some dessert for her since she didn’t want to leave the apartment for the same reason as any werewolf in the country right now. Cora called her crazy for that reason.

Enid remembers having the headphones all the way up until they pulled fruits and ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. Cora even mentioned the design of the headphones were cute with its white and pink undertones and asked where she got it. 

And then she realizes with dawning idiocy, as her face falls and her hands make it to her head in dreaded realization, that she had left them on the counter when she started getting to work with the dessert for the party, and the headphones made them hard to look down.

But eventually, all bad things come to an end and the booming stops.

Enid doesn’t even realize it until Phoebe comes back through the door, screaming at someone behind her back and saying something about beating their face for their stupidity.

Relieved to see her, Enid lets out a breath.

Funnily enough, somehow being wrapped in the horror about not having the single thing she needs gets her to not even realize that it’s stopped at all. The fact strikes her as a stupid kind of irony. It could have made her laugh if her ears were not still ringing.

“I’m so sorry, E. Some of the other kids at the party snuck into the fireworks early. I’ve already promised to make their lives hell if they did it again and— You aren’t wearing your headphones?”

“I forgot them when we rushed out this morning,” Enid sighs, rubbing her ears in dejection.

Frowning, Phoebe stares at the contents and begins slowly collecting some of them to help, wrapping some of the smaller things in between the clothes and patting them into the bag. As the contents disappear one by one into the backpack, Enid pulls on the strap at the top and pops the flap back down.

Phoebe takes a seat next to her now that the things are gone and grabs her hand with the right amount of pressure. “Do you want to leave?” 

Enid supplies a half smile and shakes her head. “I promised myself I’d stay at least the night.”

“But you don’t have to,” Phoebe says earnestly. “This is one promise you can break, babe.”

“Today is important to you,” Enid pouts.

“I guess, but I don’t like it when you hurt. C’mon, we can go home. One case of FOMO isn’t that big a deal. I’m kind of sick of saying the same thing like ten times anyway,” Phoebe flashes her a convincing smile.

Enid knows the most logical thing she should do is leave, just like what Phoebe is suggesting, but how can she explain the desire to stay when it doesn’t make much sense to her either?

Part of it is the fact that she made a promise to herself that she would stay until at least the next morning. The other is… well, she’s not really sure herself. A part of her wants to prove to that annoying cousin of Phoebe’s and everyone else that chimed in that she can do a night of fireworks, and last time was just… something that happened.

As if detecting her stubbornness, Phoebe leaves the room, probably to give her time to consider in private. But then her girlfriend comes back with her blue duffle bag in hand. Time ticks by as she sifts through it in search of the thing she’s looking for and ultimately, she pulls a case of earbuds.

Enid stares in awe while the soon-to-be birthday girl pulls them out and puts each side in her ears. “It’s not wireless and the cable is all fucked up because I keep washing them with my clothes, but it’s something right?”

Letting out a laugh, Enid nods with Phoebe’s hands still on each side of her face. Phoebe dips closer for their foreheads to meet. They both take the opportunity to trade each others’ lips.

“And when you’re tired, we can just jack a room and stay inside to watch the light show too," Phoebe whispers.

Confused, Enid’s look asks her to elaborate. “‘Jack’ a room?”

“Okay, claim . My slang isn’t that weird!” Phoebe pulls apart in feigned annoyance.

The little retort brings a new smile.

Just as promised, they spend the rest of the night inside, stealing the room with the most accessible view of the lit up sky. When Phoebe explains in passing during dinner time to someone that she would not be staying all four of their celebration days, everyone protests and tries to steal Phoebe away for her birthday firework tradition once the sky hits its peak darkness, which they both begrudgingly leave the rented home for.

But once they witness the twenty or so minute pops of color in the sky, Enid finds she doesn’t regret leaving the room as much as she thinks she does. With Phoebe’s hand in hers and an endless stream of love outpouring from the touch, she finds there’s nothing to truly regret in leaving.

The sneaky tender kisses and the music playing in her ears helps a shit ton too.

–

The next day finds Enid and Phoebe lugging their things behind their shoulders as they approach the doors to the apartment.

They left the rented home early, leaving a text to Phoebe’s family group chat, before booking it out the door because she was sure someone would try to coerce her to stay.

Despite the happiness of how most of the night ended, Day 1 of the party lasted far beyond midnight and all the way until it had been shut down by the cops at 3am. Needless to say, neither of them had a good time sleeping before jumping the gun on driving home with minimal amounts of sleep and two cups of caffeine to last them both up to this point.

The first thing they hear entering the apartment is the moderately loud sound of a continuous rerun of Cora’s favorite series, telling Enid easily where the childhood-friend-turned-roommate was. The volume is just loud enough to block out the outside noise but not enough for neighbors to complain about it.

Amusingly enough, it drowns sound so well that Cora screams and jumps at the sound of Phoebe dropping her duffle bag on the living room floor. Cora sits upright defensively with her claws popped out, one loop earbud falling out on her left ear before she realizes who she’s staring at. Enid gives a mild wave but Phoebe has a pathetic tired look on her.

“Goddess and above, you two! You scared me!” Cora yells, earning only a grumble from Phoebe while her girlfriend pulls herself towards her room. The duffle bag drags behind defenselessly at her feet with the rattle of zippers to follow. “What shat on her celebration?”

Rolling her eyes, Enid flops over on her comfort spot on the couch too, pink bag falling to the foot of it. Cora bounces in reaction to the motion but repositions herself so Enid can have the other half. Both of them have their backs against either arm of the furniture and facing the other.

“Well, said celebration is a sleep killer.”

Cora clicks her tongue understandingly. Since the episode she’s on is nearing its end with the main character giving their ending monologue, Cora lowers the TV volume down to a muted level and takes the other earbud out. “So how was it? I saw your headphones on the counter but by the time I’d noticed, you guys would have already been halfway to wherever.”

“It would have been nice if you drove it over,” Enid adds as a joke, knowing Cora didn't know where the party was happening anyway.

Smirking, Cora shakes her head, gesturing to the room by drawing a circular shape instead. “Girl, once you left this bubble, it was survival of the fittest.”

Enid chuckles, “Well, it mega sucked. I hardly saw Phoebe for the first 3 hours because her family kept tugging her around. Her cousins were assholes about my sensitivity to fireworks, and some kids at the party blew some before it was time and gave me a heart attack,” Enid scoffs. Most of the things listed were small petty things, but she’d be a liar if she said that everything was wonderful considering how lukewarm the day felt.

But oh, the things you do for love.

Cora snorts, “Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that part of the suburbs. My family usually goes to the woods to avoid them nowadays.”

Interest piqued when she realized that July 4th came and went and Cora was still wearing the same clothes Enid last saw her, Enid asks, “Why didn’t you go with them this year?”

Shrugging, Cora gathers her bowl of soggy cereal and disappears into the kitchen. A new episode starts up on auto-play and by the time the intro finishes, Cora hands Enid’s headphones to her and plops back on her own spot but barely puts any attention on the TV even though her eyes are glued to it. “They went to Maine this year to visit my grandparents. My parents didn’t want me to come, and honestly? I’d rather eat a tapeworm than see them anyway.”

“That bad?”

“I mean, I’m not really that close to them to begin with so no loss, but they tried to set me up with some werewolf boy they were fostering because they liked him. They kinda foster and pseudo-adopt these werewolf kids that, y’know, normies and other outcasts don’t want to house ‘cause we’re a hassle or whatever. Harmless, right?”

Cora tosses a glance at Enid to see if she’s got her attention. Whether she has it or not, it doesn’t deter her at all from continuing. “Until my parents caught him in my room trying to kiss me while I was asleep. He said he didn’t mean to but it wasn’t the first time they caught him sneaking into my room. Dear ol’ grandma and grandpa said we should forgive him because he liked me for a long time and didn’t have anywhere else to go. It’s just fucked up, y’know?”

Enid’s face twists in disgust at the reveal, noting how screwed up it actually is. She couldn’t imagine being in that situation but perhaps she has the luxury never to have to for someone who's lived with the best roommate for years. But she knows that she would hate to be in the same situation regardless, one where a boy she doesn’t even like hovers over her like a peeping Tom and watching her sleep.

It’s creepy and weird and violating and ugh, what the hell? How could her grandparents side with someone who didn’t care about another person’s boundaries?

And in a way, Enid sympathizes with the family drama. At least, the part about setting her up with someone.

Proud as her mother was for her wolfing out and being one of the more powerful wolves of the pack, her mother still spared no stray thought at the fact that she would soon be marriageable. Every once a month would be a phone call—nothing too different from the way it was with Nevermore, but instead of questions about wolfing out, it’d consist of some mindless catch up and an endless badger about finding and marrying the boyfriend she didn’t have as soon as possible because she wasn’t getting any younger and neither was her mom.

As if it were that easy, as if a boy was what she wanted.

The comedic timing isn’t lost on her when a character on the TV says something to another about not being so serious. Cora finds it a perfect time to pull back from making it too dark of a conversation.

“Sorry, oversharing. Just thinking about them pisses me off,” Cora mumbles. “They’re the reason we moved back. They’re the reason I’m here—not that I regret meeting you guys. I get to thank them for that, I guess.”

“It’s okay. You’d think packs were more family-oriented than that, huh?” Enid shakes her head and sympathizes. Before she can stop herself, her mouth runs off before her mind can process what to say or where to stop. “The first winter I came home, my mom wanted to ‘arrange me’ with some boy she thought I would be good enough for. I was the pride of the pack but I still wasn’t good enough to be my own person.”

Enid cringes at the memory that the next part brings up. “Then I told her I only liked women and was already dating Phoebe. A few months later, everyone told me I was exiled until I was ‘done living my homosexual fantasy.’ They have faith that I just need to get it out of my system. It’s probably the same reason they haven’t announced official exile. Haven’t spoken to any of them since. Stupid, huh?”

She barely notices Cora staring at her when she finishes.

At that, Cora pauses the episode Enid was lazily watching but not paying attention to. The remote lands on her lap without purpose.

When the silence draws out, a ding goes off randomly, very clearly originating from her own phone. Enid takes the chance to check her messages. Seeing Wednesday’s name brings a smile to her face, but she doesn’t check what her message says just yet.

“I’m sorry,” Cora says eventually. “I didn’t mean to pull that out of you.”

It's at this moment that Enid realizes she’s never really gone in depth with telling Cora what happened between her and her pack, and why she freezed that time when Cora’s parents mention hers’. It’s pretty cut and dry what happened that she never really felt the need to talk about it even if she finds herself jilted and spiteful about it.

“You didn’t,” Enid reassures.

“For what it’s worth, you’ve got a place in my pack if that’s alright with you. You're loveable enough that I could probably trick my parents into adopting you.”

Enid gives her a small smile in gratitude, “That means a lot, but then we’d have to run into that creepo on pack nights.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ll claw his eyes out before he gets within ten feet from us,” Cora lets her claw sink out of her nails and sticks her tongue out in repulsion.

“Us wolfies got some really messed up shit to shuffle through, huh? So much for pack trauma,” Enid brings a hand up as if she's holding a champagne glass while laughing.

“You can say that again, sister,” Cora pushes her foot a little forward to kick Enid’s playfully. Enid kicks back in retaliation as a taste of fun revenge that’s not unlike how she used to treat her siblings. Cora takes the opportunity to continue the episode.

When multiple yawns in a row extract from her mouth, she stretches over her head and reaches for the couch blanket.

“I can go to my room if you wanna nap," Cora kicks her feet to the floor like she's getting up.

“You can stay and keep the show running, it’d be good background noise.”

“If you’re sure…”

And for the time being, the peace goes undisturbed apart from a few distant pops that get both of them to put on their sound muffling equipment and jack the volume up a little. Cora keeps her presence as low as possible.

The show goes on for one more episode before Enid’s eyes start to finally droop to her Spotify playlist going on shuffle.

Then as her eyes close and the familiar, low drone of a cello falls into her ears, an orchestral composition of an old memory plays into her ears, reminding her of more pleasant memories that pack is more than just family.

Chapter Text

These past couple of months since the end of spring semester, there are a few things that Enid can expect when she wakes up. Putting aside the super annoying alarm she sets every night, it’s not unusual for her to see a drove of notifications from the Nightshades group chat, some messages from Phoebe, and sometimes a few texts from a certain dark tempest of a best friend.

Today, said bestie hasn’t sent any new messages. Enid’s a little disappointed but she doesn’t think too much of it because aside from drowning in notifications from the Nightshades group chat, she sees a direct message from Bianca, which is just as interesting as her morning is probably going to get.

So after sending Phoebe a morning message, she flicks a finger over to open the chat with the ex-Nightshades leader. Before she even presses on the notification, Enid already has a feeling she knows what it’s about.

‘ Have you asked your goth if she’s coming yet? ’

Enid cocks an eyebrow at the implication but the gag has been running for a few years too many to correct. (She also feels like it’s pretty close to the truth anyway by the way Wednesday doesn’t really interact totally positively with anyone else except her or without her reminding Wednesday to be nice.)

‘ lol yea, she said maybe ’

‘ Maybe??? Girl, go get me a real answer so we can figure this shit out ’

Enid lets out a half-hearted laugh.

Between all the Nightshades, she figures that the next person that Wednesday would think of as a friend would have to be Bianca, which stemmed from their continued rivalry at Nevermore. But that didn’t mean that Wednesday necessarily made an effort in keeping contact with the siren, or anyone for that matter except her and Eugene. (And even that came with some challenges… obviously.)

Actually, now that she thinks about it, Enid isn’t even sure if the two of them had ever even traded numbers in the years they were at Nevermore or before splitting ways. Either way, she doesn’t send anything back to the siren except a shrug emoji before getting up to start her day.

By the time she finishes her morning routine, a new message pops up at the top of her screen with Eugene’s name attached.

‘ Hey Enid! Do you know if Wednesday’s coming to the reunion next month? Bianca is asking but Iunno either… ’

‘ hey, genie!! gonna be honest. idk, but i hope so. ’ Enid types, then remembers something.

Eugene didn’t go to college like the rest of them but decided to pursue his passion and affinity in beekeeping somewhere in New York, which makes him probably closer to Wednesday in distance than anyone else. Not to mention, they relocated the bees to Wednesday's family estate after graduating because they couldn’t find anyone else to join the Hummers and Eugene had grown too attached to let them go anyhow. ‘ don’t you still see her more than i do?? ’

‘ Yeahhh… but she doesn’t like going out unless she has to. :( I hav to stop by her house to talk yo her sometimes lol. I get to visit the bees and hang w pugsley again so nbd but i think she hates that I grew taller than her after grad lol. ’

‘ that’s not true, she still likes u eugene!! maybe if we both ask, she’ll crumble under the pressure?? ’

‘ haha wednesday? crumbling under pressure? she’s not gonna accept an invitation from big ol me anyway. She always used to accept your invs though so maybe if you ask… 🤔’

Now that he mentions it, that always seemed to be like the case a lot of the time but they’re best friends! It’s only natural! Best friends did everything together! Confided in each other! Got in trouble with each other! Arrested and bailed together! Almost die for each other…!

…Anyway, Enid wouldn’t say that she was the only one Wednesday accepted invitations from. She’s gone out bug hunting with Eugene many times before and she remembers seeing Wednesday go out to Jericho with Bianca or Xavier one or two times, so there’s at least a few people that Wednesday tolerates enough to be around or consider friends. (Xavier, not so much though.)

She leaves that thought well enough alone as she gets caught up with the group chat.

With it being the middle of July and the reunion to happen soon, the group chat goes a mile a minute. They’ve already decided that mid-August is the best and most opportune time for everyone since the twins will be back in the states, and Yoko could use the pick me up to jog herself back to ‘human standards’. But it’s been literal weeks of them debating on what to do and where to go. The only thing they’ve totally agreed on is nothing that would require a passport or ID card unless clubbing was involved.

Enid only skims the things that they talk about while she was sleeping. There were some simple ideas for their get together, like going back to their roots in Vermont, spending a few nights in nature, or exploring city life but no one could come to a conclusion. In fact, Kent even has the stupid idea to break into Nevermore and tag something in the secret library for the new upcoming Nightshades group.

Before anyone can jump onto that dumpster fire of an idea, Bianca adopts the position of the guardian figure they’d always need again and smoothe the details out. The best middleground that the group settled for was a week-long stay in a cabin somewhere in the woods at the border between Pennsylvania and New York. Whatever they decide to do that week will be at most two hours away, and if they wanted to staycation the whole thing, then Ajax had them covered with board games, consoles, and Yoko would steal alcohol from her pop’s stash. If anyone wanted to go for a swim, there was a lake nearby perfect for their sirens.

Finally, with all that out of the way, Enid takes the time to pull out a certain book she’s stolen from Phoebe’s shelf (which was more of a “take now, explain later” kind of thing since Phoebe hadn’t noticed).

The prologue to the first Viper series is… almost exactly how Enid expected it to be. Very tense and suspenseful, and undeniably gore-y though less than what she expected. (Maybe all those dangerous adventures they had at Nevermore were a good form of exposure therapy after all…)

The death of an unimportant side character grips her attention before blowing the introduction away to the true protagonist. It captures the tone of the book amazingly with the way they speak, which is very controlled, and very Wednesday-like.

Enid gets a kick at the similarities between the main character and her creator. It’s almost completely like a self-insert if it were not for the minute differences Wednesday put here and there. Seeing at how black-and-white Viper sees the world, she can’t help but think this is how Wednesday must have thought before Nevermore came into her sphere.

Then Enid is about four chapters in, notably at a scene where Viper gets introduced to Aelia—an outcast girl coming from a mysterious family with an unknown background—for the first time, when Kent unexpectedly shoots her a message.

The message is something she totes wasn’t expecting, which is a question about whether Wednesday was going to the reunion.

(Why? Enid could only guess because she wasn’t aware Kent felt positively enough toward Wednesday to wonder about Wednesday going because of how much she seemed to dislike him for his goofballness when they were doing their Nightshades stuff.)

After a quick repeat of what she had with Eugene, it’s then that she realizes she might as well ask the woman in question whether she’s decided, because if Kent asked, the others probably will too.

Honestly, it’d be a lot easier if Wednesday was already in the group chat. But Enid’s 90% sure that Wednesday would probably delete the app after the first few days or would refuse because she would have to learn more technology and ‘internet lingo.’ It’s not gatekeeping, just… selective conversation! Or something.

Plus, Enid kind of likes the fact that it gives her a reason to bother Wednesday even though she wouldn’t mind the burden of being texted at any time. (Wednesday’s words, not hers’!)

Deciding that 1PM is a great time to start using her voice, Enid throws a little bookmark where she last stopped off at. With a few quick taps, she maneuvers to Wednesday’s contact to start the call and flops her back onto her bed, kicking her leg on top of her knee. It takes almost to the last ring before her call goes through and she hears the familiar monotone voice.

“Helloooo, Maleficent!”

“ … Hello, Enid. Is that a reference to something? ”

“Maybe? Not particularly. Only the colors would make sense I guess. The mannerisms too, a little… unless you have some fae blood in you?”

Wednesday only hummed as a response. “ My ancestry is indeterminate and mysterious, but even I hesitate to say fae existed within the bloodline. ”

“This is the part where you go ‘Yes, Enid. I’m part-fae, but I can’t tell you because the court would take my magic away.’”

“ It sounds like you know more about fae society than I care to research. ” Wednesday muses. Enid hears the subtle sounds of something shuffling, like a shoe digging into the dirt. “ However, I doubt you are calling due to a curiosity about my heritage. ”

Enid smiles and flips over on her stomach, picking at the little lint balls coming from her pillow cover. “Well, you’d be right! I was just wondering if you decided whether you were coming to the Nightshades reunion. The others want to know. Even Kent is asking!”

“ Kent… who? ”

Enid squints with suspicion because there’s no way that Wednesday—a person that commits things and people she knows to memory—would forget someone from the Nightshades. She’s been around these people for 3 years before they all graduated together! She’s even saved Kent once because of a vision she had! There’s no way!

“You know, Divina’s twin brother? The one that accidentally lit up his dorm because he wanted to make creme brulee cake without a stove for Divi’s and his birthday?”

Enid hears an amused huff, almost like a chuckle, while she’s explaining, giving away that yes, Wednesday does remember him. Maybe the theory of them being friends wasn’t so far-fetched as she thought. “ Right. Why the curiosity? ”

“‘Cause they wanna see you, silly!”

“ Anyone who craves for my company has surely lost it. ”

“Well, everyone’s a little crazy right? Some more than others!” Enid says with a giggle. “I mean, the boys want to break into Nevermore and do the reunion in the secret library. Can you believe it?”

“… and are you? ” Enid hears how Wednesday’s interest perks by the mention of a breaking and entering. If they weren’t speaking through a screen, she’d probably see Wednesday’s eyebrows perk up too, but she has no good news to deliver on that front.

“No, Bianca was against it because she didn’t want her scholarship to be jeopardized if her uni caught wind of her being part of a B&E. I think I get it though.”

Wednesday simply sighs as if it’s a drag. “ How dreadful. Unfortunately, other business awaits me. ”

Enid rolls her eyes. “Of course you would find crime a fun activity. Are you really busy for the whole month of August?”

“ Packed ,” Wednesday says in a drawl.

Clearly disappointed, Enid purses her lips in a pout because it would have really worked out if Wednesday was there or even just available for like two hours.

Like, they haven’t seen each other at all since Wednesday came to visit for a few days back in June. So if Enid had to count, it’s been almost a full month since they last saw each other with it being mid-July already.

The last thing they did together in person was talk outside in the parking lot of Enid’s dormitory-slash-studio apartment until the parking security shooed them away for loitering. Enid had to go to work shortly after.

Not to mention, August was going to be the final month until classes kicked back up, which meant even less of a chance to meet Wednesday again! Who knows when the next opportunity would be?!

Enid tilts her head onto the palm of her left hand. “Well, will you still be there on the week of the 14th at least?”

“ Perhaps… Why? ”

“The cabin we’re renting is close to you so I was hoping I could visit you and the Addams for a bit before I met up with the others? If you’re busy, then I’ll just drive straight to the cabin. It’s no big deal.”

Wednesday goes quiet. It’s not for a very long time, but it’s enough that sounds of metallic clicking start becoming apparent and fill the silence. It’s followed by a very human whine of sorts from Wednesday’s end. Enid squints out of suspicion when she hears the sound of something hitting the floor and a muffled grunt that doesn’t sound like Wednesday’s. “What exactly are you doing right now?”

A yelp comes from the other line, again not Wednesday’s, causing Enid to wince. “ Testing a new type of fishing bait. ”

“And why does this bait sound alive and why does it sound human?”

“ Because it is. ”

Bug eyed, Enid gasps. “Who is it? Will I be held legally responsible if I know who this is? This isn’t the boy you told me about that makes fun of Pubert, right? Wait, you know what– I don’t want to know—”

Then perhaps she’s a few seconds too late to back out because she doesn't get a choice on the matter when Wednesday pushes her phone towards a new speaker. “ Say your farewells, scoundrel. ”

What she gets in response is a muffled “ Heya, Enid! ” from what sounds like Pugsley.

Oh. Alright. That’s a lot more relieving and a little less worrying, knowing that the… bait is one of her younger brothers.

Whatever Wednesday is doing sounds like another one of their extreme sibling bonding activities with that knowledge. Enid knows Wednesday has a habit of dramatizing the things she does and says to get a reaction out of everyone. Still, her discussing it casually has always been concerning to Enid for the times she can’t tell the difference between her being serious and her joking.

Like now since she can’t see the kind of face Wednesday is making.

“ You should join us. ” Wednesday says, taking the phone away.

Actually, especially now since she can’t see the kind of face Wednesday is making. Surely she doesn’t mean joining them in… fishing Pugsley into the water? Or being the bait?

“You’re joking, right?”

Wednesday sounds confused when she says the next parts. “ Which part of my invitation sounds like a joke? You can stay the night before the gathering if it makes the trip easier for you. ”

Oh my god . Enid smashed her face into her pillow to muffle her reaction. She was talking about her visit, not the fish and baiting part. Enid let out an incredulous huff at herself. She must have zoned out when Wednesday mentioned it was for the visit.

When Wednesday calls her attention back, Enid reels herself back in. “But it’d be weird if I went and you weren’t there.”

“ Nonsense. My absence shouldn't stop you from coming, Enid. House misses you darkening our doorstep as does the rest of the clan. Thing would be horribly disappointed that you did not stop by. ”

Enid nods. She had to owe it to House and Thing. House was always a hospitable host and made it easy to navigate around the home without getting lost. Moon knows that without them, she probably wouldn’t have been found for months, probably chewing on old bones for survival in some secret catacomb under the home. And as for Thing, she hadn’t seen her manicure buddy in years! She missed the little tidbits of gossip they’d talk about on girl’s nights, and Thing probably has a ton of goss since then but… it wouldn’t feel the same without Wednesday being there.

Remembering that Wednesday couldn’t see her, she hums noncommittally.

“… And I will be here. ”

Enid sits up with concern, pulling a small axolotl squishmallow onto her lap. Eyes scanning over the room and landing on the loose coa she’s been meaning to return for the longest time. “ … So you… aren’t busy?”

“ I didn’t say that. ” Wednesday says almost immediately. “ But some plans can be moved around. ”

A smile creeps onto her lips, trying to stomp on the excitement until Wednesday had a clear answer on that. “I’ll see you then maybe? The 14th?”

“ You will ,” Wednesday says. A second later, Pugsley mumbles something behind whatever gag Wednesday has over his mouth. Enid can hear the teasing tone he has despite the muffle. Pugsley yells something indignantly immediately after. “ My apologies, Enid. You’ll have to excuse me. Pubert will be returning home soon and he will throw a fit if he’s seen we’ve done this without him. ”

“As opposed to telling him you did it without him?”

“ His reaction will be the best part. ” Wednesday comments.

Enid nods with a light chuckle. “Okay, talk to you later?”

“ I will contact you again after the full moon tonight. ” Wednesday bids her farewell easily enough.

Just before Wednesday hangs up, Enid hears Pugsley say something, seeming to have undone his gag. “ You are sooo— ”

Enid doesn’t get to hear what Pugsley actually says before her phone beeps to let her know the call ended, but she knows whatever Pugsley said, Wednesday was going to be leaving him in the property lake a few minutes extra with the kind of tone he had. She sends a quick text to Wednesday, reminding her not to kill either of her brothers.

Of course, she doesn’t get an answer back because Wednesday has probably started wreaking havoc with or on her brothers. But… surely, Wednesday knows how to control herself… (After all, Pugsley has survived 18 years with her already… right?)

–

Enid should have taken Phoebe’s and Yoko’s advice to heart when they told her how good the Viper book is. To be honest, she knew parts of it from what she heard in passing at the bookstore and sometimes when Phoebe’s words go faster than her brain does, but she didn’t know what was what, who was what, and what happened to who. But wow, it took her no less than probably 6 uninterrupted hours to finish the book.

Like, seriously! The first book is just so… good . Even the gorey parts add a nice touch to the story. It’s not too forced or over the top. Enid loves that it has a time and place rather than brainless blood splatter in a book. Enid knows there’s probably some parts that Wednesday would have loved to elaborate on but were probably ultimately taken out by the insistence of the editor. (Probably?)

Aside from the mystery that Viper’s trying to solve, the part about Viper and Aelia becoming friends was the part that Enid was always looking forward to. If it wasn’t for the part where Viper used their friendship to get into Aelia’s home and investigate her family for suspicious activity, it would have been super cute!

Enid couldn’t put the book down until she knew how that was going to end when Aelia caught Viper snooping in places she shouldn’t be at her house. Sure, Viper had found something to support her suspicions about Aelia’s family. Viper even thought Aelia was a spy sent to thwart her investigation. But by the time she realized that Aelia was completely innocent, their friendship had fizzled and Aelia was pressed to believe whatever Viper told her was meant to hurt her.

Viper, who was her own island at the best of times, wasn’t much of a teen detective without someone like Aelia to help her. Viper didn’t seem to realize that until the end when Aelia’s brother had decided she got too close to the truth. It was just super sad that Aelia and Viper had to split ways in the end because Aelia amicably turned her family in for the murders that were happening after finding a drugged Viper under the basement floorboards.

At the end of the book, Enid was inconsolable that there wasn’t even an epilogue addressing what happened to Aelia or if Viper would try to keep in touch with her. (Wednesday, how could you!!)

It wasn’t until she remembered there were two more books to explore and Aelia had to appear or be mentioned in at least one of those right? (Or the fourth book? Hello!! Wednesday had said something about it calling back to the first book, right?!)

So it takes everything in Enid not to explode at Phoebe about it until after the full moon, which leads her to this exact moment. Phoebe doesn’t feel any type of way except positive at learning she borrowed the book from her shelf.

While she rants on and on about the book, Enid ignores emphatically the way Phoebe is so stupidly smug about the fact that Enid loves the book because she’d been trying to convince Enid for months to read it. At the same time, Phoebe looks like she’s dying trying not to spoil anything for her.

When they get home, they have the apartment all to themselves because Cora isn’t here this full moon so they can geek out as much as they want over a post-midnight dinner. Phoebe surprisingly decides to take the initiative and prepares a late meal for the both of them since Enid had come over a little later than usual, insisting her to take a rest or a shower while she does what she does.

Thankful for the effort, Enid starts a shower for the warm water to come on and takes the opportunity to put the novel back to Phoebe’s ‘Bookcase of Geeky Stuff and More.’ She slots the first volume into its open spot, pushing it all the way out of habit because she likes it when the books on her shelf hit the wall. She likes to think it makes the books feel cozy and loved in a way. (And she likes to put little toy figures in between the gaps.)

The book hits something certainly, but it’s not the wall. The push causes whatever it is to fall behind the shelf and make a dull clunk in between the wall and the bookcase.

Curiously, Enid reaches down and picks up what feels to be a small, black box. It has a velvety coat to it and is perfectly shaped but it doesn’t have a complexity to its design. The simplicity of it causes the box to open from the fall, so it’s already open before she even pulls it out from where it hit the ground.

Gasping, Enid doesn’t dare to think about what a small box like this could mean or what hiding it somewhere like that could mean. She also doesn’t know if this is something that she should even be reaching for or know the existence of, but it’s already too late when the box was already open for her to see.

Two rings sit in the box beside the other. They’re simple golden bands with small engravings inside of their initials and the date they first met and the date they made it official.

Enid’s heart speeds up from just seeing them. The water in the bathroom still runs, probably warm now, when Enid goes to the kitchen and sees Phoebe getting a small pot ready to cook what looks to be pasta.

Enid holds the box gingerly in her hand. “What is this?”

Phoebe looks up in response and her face drops. Her girlfriend coughs at the sight of what’s in her hand. “Oh um… I-I didn’t think you’d find that.”

That doesn’t tell Enid anything. Her thoughts are still going a million miles a second at the sight of it because holy shit. Holy shit? There’s a literal ring in her hand. Two of them!

Wait, no no, don’t jump to conclusions yet.

Coming closer, Phoebe is eye to eye with her because she has yet to take off her platformer boots. With her leveling to Enid’s height, Enid searches into her forest eyes for the answer. Phoebe takes the hand with the box softly, caressing the box between them.

“It-it’s a promise ring. I meant to give it to you a few months ago after the bookstore thing… but things happened and we both got busy with a bunch of stuff and then I kinda… missed the timing and got scared. We hadn’t talked about the future at all so it…” Phoebe stumbles nervously and exhales.

Enid really doesn’t know what to say. It’s not an engagement ring – Enid is perfectly aware and perfectly okay with that. She’s just in awe at the fact that it exists. It’s a physical symbol of commitment and love. Phoebe has shown time and time again that she loves her deeply and now she has a ring to show for it and just… What words can she find to explain how she feels?

Enid is over the moon. The jitters she’s feeling reverberates in her chest, echoing to the point that she feels like her heart is about to jump out of her skin. She’s pretty sure she’s about to explode the moment she lets herself free fall into the feeling. Instead, her eyes water from the pivotal happiness.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything but… I am so lucky to be in love with you, E. And I’m yours. It’d be really special if you accepted it.” Without losing eye contact, Phoebe takes the ring that’s meant to be for Enid out of the box. Phoebe looks tenderly at Enid with hesitance and holds it to her finger, as if asking for permission to put it on her.

Enid already knows it won’t fit—the size just slightly bigger than her middle finger—but she takes it from Phoebe’s hand and tries it on anyway. As expected, the ring slips off no matter what finger she puts it on. Enid lets out a watery laugh. “It doesn’t even fit, you goober.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what your ring size was— I was trying to, like, figure it out with my hand but my guesstimation skills are really bad. I think I could probably still ask if they can fix it or-or return it if you want. Here, I can take it b—”

Enid stops Phoebe from reaching for the ring, pulling her outstretched hand to her cheek instead. She makes note of the soft fingertips that run across her face. At the crook of Phoebe’s thumb, she feels her pulse and presses a kiss there. Though light, she can smell the barely lingering smell of her sandalwood fragrance. “I think it’s wonderful the way it is.”

“Really?” The shorter girl looks skeptical. “But you can’t wear it if it doesn’t fit.”

Enid smiles, taking in the way that Phoebe bites her lips, fitting a pout. “A necklace can work too. If I forgot to take it off before wolfing out, we’d never find it in one piece again.”

The frown on her girlfriend slowly transforms into a smile. A twinkle sparks when she understands what that means. “So… you’ll wear it?”

Enid takes it all in. A laugh comes from the bottom of her chest. “I’ll wear it every day.”

–

The moon is still out, bragging about the light it borrows from the sun and shedding its color over this side of the world. Despite how it gives enough for the world to be alight, the room barely has enough for Enid to see through the darkness.

Regardless, she doesn’t need it. She doesn’t have the kind of sharp eyesight as she would as a wolf, nor like how a vampire would with night vision. As a pair of lips kiss her tenderly, arms trying to pull her closer than they already are while she presses their proprietor to the wall, Enid finds she can do just fine without seeing.

Enid brings a hand up to the curve of her lover’s jaw, savoring the affection, the smell of sandalwood washed away by the shower her lover had earlier. Now, only natural smells of nutmeg and a tinge of something else… roses? Enid’s other arm hangs above them both, leaning in more as she traps her lover in a barrier she makes between them and the world behind her.

The smaller person breathes out a displeased sound but doesn’t stay in the makeshift boundary she creates.

Before she can be worried, Enid suddenly finds herself with her back against the wall instead. She’s surprised for a second, but then understands the sentiment when a tickle of butterfly kisses flits across her collarbone. She wants control this time and who is Enid to deny her lover it? She bares her neck. To anyone who knows, it’s a sign of love, of endearment—the highest form of trust.

The feeling of trusting so wholly is alluring. Coupled with the way that her lover caresses the shell of her ear, Enid wants to get lost in it, wants to be held waiting, wanting, needing. Despite it hanging her on the cliff of anticipation, she can’t help herself when her nails elongate from excitement, nails-become-claws scratch at skin at the back of their neck.

But that’s the primal part of wanting control and right now she wants the love of giving it. So she has to hold herself back, focuses on manually sinking claws back into her fingers, preventing herself from freeing blood under skin.

The other shivers when they disappear, a groan of disappointment leaves lips and Enid can only smirk. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, she wants to say, but decides she doesn't have to.

Her hands brush against long dark hair as her partner kisses high, her jawline peppered by soft lips. Hands low, brushing against skin scarred by old times, old memories, old—

Hands pull at her legs, convincing her to wrap around hips. With a push, they depart from the wall. Enid holds onto notably lean arms, the grip on her thighs platform her from falling. Excitement jumbles in her, the muscles feeling touched by static. Enid leans in for a kiss again, somehow knowing that her carrier knows their way to the bed.

When Enid’s bottom touches the high bed, she doesn't hesitate to sit. Lips never leave each other as her lover leans into the kiss until one of them loses breath. Unexpectedly, she’s the first one to give as they part. They waste no time taking off their shirts because the heat is beginning to become unbearable despite the strange coolness of the room.

The second her night shirt is off, hands drag down Enid’s back, searching for the clasp of her bra. Enid feels every callused digit that dances along the goosebumps forming on her skin. With a click, the bra falls limp down the inside of her elbow.

Enid sighs breathlessly when cool hands come forward to pull the article off, followed easily by the brush of skin on her nipples. The sensation guides her towards a trance, hypnotized by the desire.

If the room was not already shrouded in the dark by the curtains and by the woman before her, she would welcome the pleasure of being bedded and blind at night. Again and again, she welcomes the kind of darkness that allows her to drown in the sensation if it means love.

Every touch, every caress, every sensation is the feeling of love. It’s enticing and gradual. It injects right into her marrow. The build makes her feel like her soul is being caressed into submission. She loves it regardless of her nature to dominate as well.

When hands drag down her body lightly petting the abs formed there, Enid feels the world fall away. The world has stopped, yet the love continues. Silence carries but the love becomes a thing so real she can feel it, she can almost see it, in more ways than one.

The ceiling still looks bright despite the dimness of the room, dulled by the haze of want.

When she looks down, curled dark hair fills her vision. The love that can be tracked with the gentle roll of each touch, every careful caress in a softness of ‘More? ’

When the other looks up to her, their lips give a slim smile. The curve puts the slightest wrinkle where the vague indentation of dimples impress. Their tongue licks full lips, captured in yearning. Enid’s heart stirs, elated, excited, electrified, and she sighs.

Enid’s eyes meet with constellations and deep brown eyes that penetrate her very soul. Brown eyes that have always made her special, have always made her feel worth everything in the right way. Those eyes, Enid knows, adore everything it sees.

Then suddenly, she gasps. 

When she realizes they aren’t Phoebe’s usual green eyes, she’s swallowed up and spit right back into reality as she shoots up from the bed she’s resting in. One leg hangs over the bed, touching the floor only when she’s sat up, blanket stolen entirely by the only other occupant of the bed.

Beside her, Phoebe remains asleep, naive to her sudden waking and fully clothed. Enid’s heart is still under a treadmill, brain riding waves of confusion. She feels the kind of exhaustion that means she hasn't rested at all. She rubs her eyes tiredly.

The sun has come up despite it, already beating down its sun rays on those outside. Its light slips through the curtains barely.

Intent on putting in a few more hours into the day, she lays down beside her girlfriend again, watching the slow exhale of each breath. She pulls Phoebe’s hand to her, kissing the hand that her own promise ring sits on.

When her phone on the bedside table lights up with a text, she takes it slowly and presses on the notification without checking out of habit. A window opens instantly. Seeing Wednesday’s nickname pop up at the top of the screen has shame instantly flooding her when she grows aware enough to remember the dream she had.

Normally, Enid doesn’t dream. She commonly forgets them the moment she wakes up. She used to bemoan not remembering them because she’d always have a feeling they were pretty cool, like living in the world of Hogwarts or being able to travel through space. But ironically, this is the one time forgetting a dream would probably be preferred.

Phoebe gave her a promise ring just this early morning, vowing commitment and love to her in a way Enid’s never had before. And here she was dreaming about… about making out and being intimate with someone else. Even crazier, her best friend? What the hell was she thinking? What the hell was her subconscious thinking?

Biting her lip, her eyes meet the simple text that Wednesday leaves, which is just her usual congratulation for another successful wolf out, and a comment about how the ‘fishing’ went without any hitches and Pubert’s reaction to it.

Enid stares at the text for a moment, unsure how to feel but guilt and shame and god, what the hell? After a few seconds, the ellipsis begins bouncing again when she ultimately puts the phone back down with nervous fingers, leaving the message read and going for a much needed shower.

Chapter Text

Today is July 30th. With a little over a month left of summer break, everything still feels like it’s going too fast and too slow at the same time. While she’s actually dreading the end of summer and the (first!) Nightshades gathering post-graduation has been a long time coming, she almost can’t believe that she’ll be seeing the Addams family again for the first time in a long time.

Mainly though, she doesn’t know if things will be ready on time by the time she has to leave because some of the gifts she’s gotten for everyone haven't arrived yet!! Not for a lack of trying though because apparently someone may have stolen the package meant as gifts for Bianca and Divina, but the front desk is saying it was never delivered.

One would think that living in a dorm with something like that, they’d be more organized about that stuff, but they’re saying it never arrived! Sure, whatever.

So that’s where she finds herself now, searching for the confirmation email that the package has been delivered with the tracking number link. She swears to hell and above that it has a picture of the package and a staff member’s signature was on the delivery confirmation.

Instead of that email though, she finds a three-day-old email from Pugsley of all people first, which is totally okay if not a little unusual.

Not in that Pugsley himself is unusual (if anything, that’s a compliment) but in the way that Pugsley is a lot like Wednesday in social aspects. He’s quirkier in different ways than Wednesday, and shier, but he doesn’t reach out for friendship and lets it come to him. He’s a lot easier to approach compared to his siblings though, and he uses social media. (Sometimes.)

That said, they haven’t really traded pleasantries in a while so Pugsley sending her something out of the blue is… suspicious.

Squinting, she clicks on it and sees it's a forwarded email with a body that says:

“Hi Enid! We didn’t hear anything from you about it so Wednesday wanted me to re-send this to you in case you didn’t get it. Sis is busy so she couldn’t do it herself. (also she didn’t want to deal with the logistics.) I hope you get it because my phone got waterlogged when we went fishing so I can’t text you about it.

‘Toodles!’ :)

P.S. If you’re not Enid and this is used, rest assured that we’ll know how to find you.”

Aside from the amused chuckle that comes out when she reads the PS, she’s not sure what that’s about. She reads through the rest of the contents. By the end of it, Enid is mind-boggled. Surprised. Most of all, in awe.

Once again, Wednesday Addams surprises her with the generosity she claims she doesn’t have. Details about a fully paid ticket in business class to New Jersey and back sit in the contents. It was purchased all the way on July 23rd, just a day after Wednesday invited her to her home.

To be honest, it doesn’t say who paid for it, but who else than Wednesday herself? No, actually– The real question is, how did she even get her ID info to book one for her? What?

Enid lets out a choked laugh when she remembers that summer into their junior year that the Addams family had paid for her ticket. In the exact same fashion—by not asking about it first—because she had told them her parents were short on funds since they were saving for her older twin brothers’s tuitions to college and her younger brother’s entry to Nevermore.

Wednesday must have kept that information somewhere. Or unsurprisingly, maybe she didn’t realize she could remove that information from auto-fill on her browser so she’s had it ever since.

If Pugsley hadn’t emailed about this, she never would have thought this ticket was even real honestly.

Letting out a real laugh at the thought, Enid shakes her head and pulls out her phone, thinking to let Wednesday know a piece of her mind for how she feels about it. (Which is surprisingly giddy and zealous.) But then she hesitates, staring at Wednesday’s number that she’s memorized at this point.

She’s not, like, ungrateful or scared or anything. It’s just that Wednesday had told her two days ago that she’d be gone for a while and she didn’t know when she’d be back, just that it’d be around the 14th. That point was supported by what Pugsley had said about Wednesday being busy too. But she’d never know unless she tried, right?

Expectedly, it’s not picked up but Enid still pouts not being able to contact Bestie #1 (don’t tell the others). If she doesn’t pick up now, it probably won’t be a while until she does if she’s truly busy.

While Enid looks over the entire email, thinking up a response to send back to Pugsley, her phone dings twice.

‘ I’m unable to take a call right now. If it’s urgent, you’ll have to make it quick or I will have to answer later. ’

‘ If you’re curious about what I’m up to, it’s better that you do not know. ’

Enid raises her eyebrows out of suspicion but admits this is very Wednesday-centric of her. ‘ ok I won’t ask lol. And it’s not urgent. Do whatevr you need to do. I’ll ask you later. ❤️ Call me when you’re free so I can yell at you. Stay safe and give em hell!!! ’

The message gets read instantly, no response. Enid can only smile lopsidedly before she gets back to searching for that stupid email.

–

Hours pass while Enid waits for a response from Wednesday. (Yes, she found the email. And yes, they found the package suspiciously in the ‘lost and found’ room, which has a very specific “free for all” rule at the end of the month.)

The excitement of the ticket dies with each passing second. But she realizes that the more time she’s had thinking about it, the less she has a problem with it. She knows that anything Wednesday and the Addams do out of their own volition, it’s always out of genuine altruism. And for that, she can never fault them.

It comes with more positives than it does negatives too. The “versus” game between plane trip and road trip slowly holds less water when the idea of money is taken out of the picture. Plus, call her selfish but she’d rather have more time catching up with the family than spending those driving hours trying to sporadically figure out how to get there.

Enid’s preparing for a quick din and then work, when her phone rings closer to dinner time. The fun ringtone she set notifies her exactly who it is if she wasn’t already expecting it to come through. She puts everything to the side, turning the electric stove off before picking it up.

“ Afternoon, Enid… Now what do you have to yell at me about? ”

The way the other side sounds, it seems like Wednesday is subjected to the outdoors. Vaguely, the sounds of crickets chirping are far and few in between. Rocks are probably dug into the gaps of the 3-inch gothic-type boots Enid’s sure she still wears on occasion. She imagines the sky outside is dying out into a kindled red like it is on her side of the coast too.

Spontaneously, an idea comes up in her mind. Would it be a little too much to give Wednesday a teensy bit of a hard time for the ticket? Out of love, of course!

Enid lets a small antagonistic smile touch her cheeks when she hears Wednesday’s voice, bringing the most artificial sweetness to her voice. Hearing her sound, she wonders if it will come off as sarcastic, or obviously playful, or a little too serious somehow.

“Well, Wednesday, bestie westie of all time, I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love and appreciate you and how sweet you are because I just saw the email about the ticket. You’re really too good to me. Honestly, admit it, you’re more like a cute little warhead candy that’s secretly gooey sweet on the inside. A sweetie pie with a rough exterior. A pookie-boo, too. You hate it when I call you that but really, can you blame me—”

“ Enid. Get to the point. ” Wednesday says with emphatic annoyance at the nicknames. All of the annoyance incurred is very much on purpose on Enid’s part.

Finding it enough of a small teasing, she holds in a laugh, continuing as asked. “You bought me a plane ticket ?”

“ I did.” There’s a pause from Wednesday before she continues. There’s just a touch of uncertainty in Wednesday’s voice. “Have you already purchased yourself one? ”

“No,” Enid says, like it’s a scandal.

“ Then I’m not understanding where the confusion is coming from. ”

Enid rolls her eyes. “Well first, you didn’t have to. Second, you shouldn’t have.”

“ How precisely were you planning on getting here if you hadn’t bought a ticket by this point? ”

“Well, I was originally going to road trip there. I still have your address in this noggin of mine.” Enid taps the temple of her head even though she knows Wednesday wouldn’t be able to see.

“… were you. ”

“Truth be told, I kind of forgot I could buy one because I haven’t traveled anywhere that didn’t involve a car in so long. I’ve never gone that far by car before but it has to be cheaper to drive, right? And it sounds fun enough to try.”

There’s a pause on the other line. When Wednesday speaks again, a slight tone of disapproval is laced in Wednesday’s next words which irks Enid a little. “ Under even the best circumstances, 300 miles is a long distance to travel by yourself, Enid. ”

“ You’ve done it,” Enid says in a slight accusing tone.

“ You’d be correct. But sitting in my thoughts until driven insane is one of my best pastimes. I’ve also memorized the road after traveling up and down it on various occasions. With and without company. ”

“Okay, smarty pants. Point is, I can do it too. I was kind of looking forward to it. I hear the scenery is beautiful down the Taconic once you get there.”

Wednesday scoffs. “ Have you forgotten the time you had gotten us and your friends lost on a 30-minute trip to Burlington because you wanted to do a pop-up scavenger hunt for your stamp collection? I should remind you that this road trip would be 5 hours, not 30 minutes. By the time you get to the mansion, it’d probably already be midnight. ”

Genuinely scandalized this time, Enid gasps. “It’s been years since that happened and that was because Yoko claimed she knew the way and told me to turn at the wrong exit! Lesson learned, that’s why Google Maps exist!”

“ Yet just a month ago, you cited an anecdote wherein someone had driven their car into a lake because ‘Google Maps’ had told them to. ” Wednesday muses.

“That– That was a meme! It was supposed to be funny.”

“ Well, it was amusing to hear about. Regardless, I promise you that driving 5 hours by yourself isn’t nearly as much fun as you’ve been led to believe in those coming-of-age films you watch. Going alone is equal parts exciting as it is dangerous, but you won’t have someone to tell you when to turn around this time, Enid. ”

Enid felt an argument rise in her throat, that she didn’t need someone to be there because Google Maps was usually pretty good at doing that already, but what would be the point? She didn't really want to start a fight. She was already going to accept the ticket anyway.

Still, Wednesday is right. As she frustratingly always was sometimes. If she were still going to road trip her way there, it would be her first time driving such a long distance by herself. She’s a big scary werewolf that can transform whenever she wants (even though she doesn’t look like it!) but she’d be lying if a tiny part of her wasn’t scared about driving that far for that long and alone.

Also it wasn’t like she could ask Phoebe, or even Cora, to come with the whole time. The trip was supposed to be a Nightshades only thing. They respected that when she told them she’d be going alone, plus they had their own busy schedules to attend to. Also what’s the point of inviting them to drive with her if she’s just going to ditch them for the rest of the trip? Total douche move.

Now that she thinks about it, they probably thought she would be flying because Phoebe had asked her yesterday when she’d be leaving and if she needed her to ‘drop her off.’ Enid had said she didn’t want her to waste hours driving and then leave her alone to drive the whole way back.

Phoebe had given her an odd look and was going to say something when she got phoned in for work. Enid hadn’t thought much about that until now. Honestly, Phoebe would probably not be okay at all about her going alone if she found out she was planning to drive the whole way alone.

Biting her lip, she sighs. “Okay, fine, you’re right. It’s kind of scary. I am a little worried about driving alone. You should trust me though; I’m a werewolf and I’ve got the scars to prove it.” Though there’s no camera pointed at her, she sits up from her chair and flexes out of a joking habit. God, she wishes they were face-timing instead. “I’ve been practicing my best ‘Wednesday’ face too if you wanna see.”

“ I commend your danger seeking efforts, but do not mistake my appraisal for a lack of trust. ” Wednesday says after a beat. “ You don’t have to use the ticket if you don’t wish to, but if you arrive one minute past midnight, I’ll find you and throw you in a blackhole myself. ”

“Hold on, Willa! I’m just… giving you a hard time. I’m gonna use it, okay? I’d hate for you to waste it because I know you’d never refund it,” Enid says, finally giving Wednesday a taste of her laugh. “I wish we were face timing so I could see your face when I called you pookie-boo but I wasn’t sure if I could keep it up if I did.”

Eventually, Wednesday scoffs with little hostility. “ My revenge will be swift and fatal, wolf. ”

“Mmhm. I got you, didn’t I?” Enid snorts, cheekily. “Did you have to get business class for a one-hour flight though? This isn’t a trip from Cali to Jersey; there’s practically no point to it.”

“ I wasn’t sure you could appreciate the torture of economy. ”

“Oh, I think I can appreciate one hour. I’ve handled 6 per flight going to and from Nevermore before. With my brothers too, thank you very much. You’ve met Parker,” Enid rolls her eyes. It’s when Wednesday hums at the acknowledgement of that statement that Enid adds. “Also, you have to let me pay you back at some point. The $100 bills you slipped in my car don’t count.”

“ Hm, I was hoping you’d forget about that. ”

“As if, you sneak.” Enid snarks.

Wednesday lets out a sound similar to a chuckle. “ Worry not about repayment, Enid. The ticket is hardly pennies to the dollar. I assure you it’ll find a way back to you anyway. ”

“No, it won’t. I won’t let you!”

“ A pair of fast hands isn’t the only thing I have in my repertoire. ”

“We’ll see about that, you ghoul.” Enid retorts. Then the sound of background chirping comes back, added with the wind blowing, reminding her that Wednesday is outside. Since it’s still the heat of summer, it must be pretty hot depending where she is. Maybe she shouldn’t keep her if Wednesday is busy, but she can’t help but ask. “I’ve got about two hours before I have to head to work. How long before you have to go?”

Even though she doesn’t see what Wednesday is doing, a silence stretches for a few seconds before a huff comes from the other line. Enid can hear a series of clinking that sounds suspiciously like the safety of a rifle gun being cocked back to place—a sound she finds too familiar with the games her brothers play on the Xbox, but a little more metallic and overly realistic.

A car door opens. A shuffle. Then, as the door closes, there’s a second of peace. “ I’ve got time. ”

Enid smiles, heart afloat.

––

Finally, the awaited 14th of August comes. Enid has a lot of feelings about today. Above all, there’s probably nothing more Enid wants to do than call Wednesday and express a mixture of different things. Above all those different things, the one that stands out the most is that Wednesday is insane for booking the flight so early.

The check-in for the flight is supposed to be at 7:30 in the morning but Enid isn’t an idiot. That just means she has to be there at like 5 or earlier just to make sure she can check in and board without any issues… which means she has to be out the door by 4 just to make sure she gets to the airport on time just in case there’s traffic or road work ahead.

When she looks out of the car window, it’s literally so early that the sun hasn’t even come out yet. The fact that it’s summer doesn’t convince the sun enough to come out earlier though. Not that that matters since the street lights glow bright enough that she’s sure it takes up half of the light pollution credited to the city.

It’s not really a big adjustment for her since she takes night shifts at the diner. She still leaves her apartment for dates or other things. But frankly speaking, she’s the most vampiric werewolf she’s ever known because of the distinct decrease of vitamin D. Her now more-than-pale skin would let her pass as one if she didn’t have the ability to transform and turn someone into confetti on a really, really, really bad day. (Or if a second-rate villain were to threaten someone close to her.)

In any case, she doesn’t need a ton of coffee or Wednesday’s extreme taste for espresso to keep her awake, but she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get a cup of sweet caffeine either.

Speaking of which, she can’t say the same about the lack of need for caffeine for the person driving said car.

Cora sits on the driver’s seat, glaring like the road has caused her a great offense. It’s the first time Enid’s seen Cora this cranky since the day Phoebe had accidentally woken her up at 2am and she hates being awake past 1am because she usually wakes up at 7. (On that note, horror games and movies past midnight have been banned ever since.)

In actuality, it’s supposed to be Phoebe next to her but there’s actually a very good reason why it isn’t. As embarrassing as it is to admit, she had been neglecting the maintenance of her car for at least a year and a half. She had completely forgotten about it until the engine light on her car turned on the day before she would have left.

Truth be told, she hadn’t noticed it until Phoebe had pointed it out yesterday so it could have been there for at least a week. Because of that, Phoebe had taken it to her dad—who was a proud mechanic and promised a discounted price—but Enid wouldn’t be getting it back until at least the week before the third year started. Since they knew it would be a trip itself to get the car there, Phoebe had gone alone so Enid could finish packing.

If she decided to roadtrip after all, she’d probably be in some real trouble so… maybe it was a good thing that Wednesday had bought her a ticket. Would the burnt toast theory apply here if she didn’t already decide to go by plane? (Or maybe it was just Wednesday being Wednesday about her visions again?)

Case in point, the only other person to take her was either Cora or ubering there. She would have been fine to uber a ride if her girlfriend hadn’t asked their friend first.

With them getting to a red light before they hit the main road, Cora roars out a yawn and groans. The yawn pulls Enid from watching the light of a billboard flicker on and off. “Goddamnit, Enid. The sun isn’t even out yet… Did you have to schedule the flight so early? I feel like my eyes are melting.”

“It wasn't me that booked it actually.”

Cora scowls, “If it was Phoebe, I’m gonna give her shit for it.”

Hearing the beginning of a tirade, Enid cracks a haughty smile. “It was Wednesday so if you’re gonna give anyone shit for it, take it up with the benefactor.”

“Wednesday as in the girl from a few months ago? She booked and paid for the whole ticket herself?” Cora sits up a little higher and rubs one of her eyes.

“The Queen herself,” Enid nods, jokingly solemn.

Cora lets out barely a smile, probably remembering the last conversation they had about Wednesday, “Okay, so a bestie redeem pass. How much was it anyway? Like, 3 franklins?”

Enid pauses. “Maybe more like… $440 maybe? Per flight?”

“$440 per flight!?” Cora yells. “I’m telling you, inflation is killing us all. If Phoebe did that for me, I would have told her to cancel it and drove there myself.”

At the mention of money, Enid decides it might be better not to mention that she’d be in business class. It wouldn’t change Cora’s perspective about inflation anyway. She is glad to know she isn’t the only one that would make questionable choices though.

Enid smiles instead and says, “Wednesday doesn’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Cora leans on the car door side a little, turned towards Enid. After drinking from a generously sized cup of coffee, Cora gives her a look. “You know, tell me if I’m wrong, but I think Wednesday’s a little sweet on you.”

Enid frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Not a lot of people will shill out that much for a friend. The financial economy is bad for us poor folk.”

“Well, Wednesday isn’t ‘poor folk’ like us and I dunno, maybe that’s why,” Enid defends. “Besides, I didn’t even ask her to do it. She often just does things and asks for forgiveness later. Which she never does anyway.”

“Right, she’s the author of a best-selling series of that one snake book you and Phoebe like so she must be loaded.” Cora nods, shrugging with a smile still on her face when Enid corrects her about the name of the book.

When the light turns green, Cora repositions herself, stepping lightly on the gas to follow the car ahead of her. “You didn’t say I was wrong by the way.”

‘ That’s because you’re not, ’ Enid almost says, but she doesn’t want to say something that would give her a weird look and other kinds of questions. Against her best judgment, she’s been thinking of Wednesday a little bit differently and noticing some stuff a little bit more since that dream.

Speaking of which, a few days after that dream was… interesting.

Enid didn’t think Wednesday caught onto the awkwardness because it’s not really hard to pretend to be normal when you’re just sending a text. (She, of course, might have proved herself wrong.)

It’s not like she’d been ignoring Wednesday or anything; it’s not strange that they don’t text after a few days sometimes. But the one she sent when Wednesday had told her she’d be on an assignment for something with her Uncle Fester didn’t feel right since the dream had still felt so… fresh.

All Enid typed back was ‘oh cool!’

Really? ‘Oh cool’? That’s all she could say?

But like, how could anyone blame her? She’s never really had a wet dream about her friends before. Not even with Ajax! (To be fair, maybe that should have made it obvious that she wasn’t as into boys as she thought. She just thought she didn’t have the inclination to dream about that stuff!) So yeah, it’s abnormal for her to dream about having sex with her best friend. Isn’t it a totally weird creep-o thing to do too?

A part of her knew that she was just being stupid about it.

Actually, a huge, huge part of her knew she was being really stupid about it. Because despite what reddit and the sketchy dream experts say, just because she dreamt about having sensual sex with her best friend, it doesn’t mean that she actually wanted to, right? It doesn’t have to mean anything… Besides, WWWD?

Wednesday would probably think it was nothing and pretend it never happened soo… yeah, she’s been trying to do that ever since – think platonic thoughts, do platonic things, be platonic. Not that the purchased ticket made it any easier to do.

But even being in a platonic state of mind, it still doesn’t help stopping her from seeing Wednesday a little more. The small little itty bitty things she’s been burying are wiggling up to the surface like worms that feasted on the old, rising to become something new.

She doesn’t know how she feels about that quite yet… but admittedly, she’s a little afraid of that too.

After some thinking, she whispers and shrugs, “It just comes with being besties with an Addams, I guess.”

Cora only nods and lets her Spotify playlist roll through the silence.

—

Arriving at the Addams family mansion is nothing short of nostalgic because what’s a trip to the Addams’s home without some small mishap? Whether it’s a tiny inconvenience, or something that would completely ruin the trip, it’s always happened. Usually, it’s something like a popped tire, or some missing luggage. One time, there was even turbulence on the flight (and yes, Enid 100% cried thinking they’d all die). But this time, she supposed, it was due to a lack of planning on her part.

Something Enid learned the first year she was invited to the Addams abode was that even to normies—especially to normies—they were a force to be reckoned with. Whatever kind of history they have with the large town (probably especially after that thing that got Wednesday transferred to Nevermore) deems them enough of a danger to stay out of their way and with just enough respect… So much respect that most Uber and Lyft drivers will opt to drive around the streets connecting to their home even though it’s the easiest path.

Enid had naively forgotten this fact when she arrived at the airport, only to realize she wouldn’t have a ride to the Addams family home. The situation was fixed by the one reliable Thing when he arrived with Lurch after 20 minutes of waiting in line at a rent-a-car location. How he knew she would be there could only be a guess, but seeing the disembodied hand was a sight for sore eyes. (Gosh, she really missed the little guy.)

Coming from the airport, memories flash through her mind of each thing they come across. Like, the time when they once broke into the local observatory because she once mentioned never seeing a star up close, or that time Wednesday had bemoaned about exploring the town when Enid begged but knew she secretly enjoyed her company.

Not really anything has changed geographically; the store and shops and other things are still the same. Enid supposes that two years is a little short amount of time for any real change, but she can’t help but feel like a lot has changed.

Maybe it’s the fact that the last time she had traveled down this road, she was more of an oblivious girl of the “real” world and taking in the last of her adolescence. Now, she’s separated from the pack, practically a lone wolf in all but name, and growing up without a support system besides a handful of people.

A bittersweet smile touches her lips when she realizes how much things have changed for her in just 2 years time.

It’s just 11:15am when Enid sees those rickety rusted gates again. She still doesn’t understand very well how it could be so sturdy but strong at the same time from trespassers (reputation aside). The appearance of House comes to view easily enough. She can almost see how the home goes from eerily still to a subtle vibration akin to what she’d imagine would happen to it if the ground shook.

Enid opens the car door just as Lurch pulls to the driveway. It’s plain manners to wait but the home is the magnet pulling her forward, reminding her distantly of a time where she used to have one.

When she exits, the dirt crunches beneath her. Thing hops out from behind, fingers racing against the pebbly floor. The mansion's double doors open just seconds later, exposing the entire family minus one.

Gomez and Morticia stand there, hand in hand, pleased at the sight of her again. Pugsley is there too, smiling and struggling at holding Pubert back from barrelling into her like he used to do as a toddler.

The fact that Wednesday isn’t the first one she sees is a little sad but maybe, she’s just still on the road or something?

Pugsley’s effort in holding Pubert back is thwarted when the now seven year old slips under his brother after stabbing him in the eyes with his fingers and jumps off the top flight of stairs. The sudden movement pulls her straight out of her head. Instead of bulldozing into the middle of her thighs like he used to, he nearly takes her down with a headbutt to the belly. But she wouldn’t be a proud werewolf if she couldn’t handle that at least.

“ Loba! Finally, your terrible presence graces us once again! Welcome home!” Gomez yells from the doors, his arms spread wide as everyone else begins to descend the stairs.

With the soft look on Morticia’s face, Morticia approaches like she’s floating above the ground, arms outstretched and inviting. The motherly glow from Morticia has yet to die off despite the years, but it’s the part where the Addams matriarch pulls her toward her, embracing her with her wide arms, that really sells the point. “Welcome, Enid. We’ve missed your haunting pop of color.”

A sense of sentimentality threatens her to tears. Warmth collects in her eyes. Her arms cling onto Morticia too. With a sniffle, she manages to speak. “It’s good to be here. I missed you all too.”

The conversation between the five of them carries all the way until they enter the mansion. Most things are what she remembers it’s like. House has a few new scars, made by spontaneous sword fighting and disastrous experiments by the whole family. Some panels on the walls have yet to be rebuilt from their shenanigans. Same old then.

“Where’s Wednesday?” Enid asks Morticia after some time. Everyone, while eager to monopolize her time, has dispersed somewhere within the house, apparently preparing for an impromptu feast for the afternoon. Lurch, ever the gentleman, brings her luggage up the stairs to the room across from Wednesday’s—the one she’s always used when she visited.

“Wednesday should be in her quarters.” Morticia sends an innocuous wink and gestures up the stairs. “You must be tired, but be a dear and call her down for lunch, would you? It should be served before the hour is over.”

Enid nods once and ascends the stairs towards the hallway of Wednesday’s room. Wondering why Wednesday wouldn’t come down even at the constant shaking from House, Enid isn’t sure what to expect when she knocks on the door. Enid would honestly like to think that Wednesday wouldn’t miss greeting her at the door if she had the choice. Maybe her brothers got to her first and somehow got her trapped somewhere? No, that wouldn’t make sense. She’d probably skin them and throw them in the iron maiden they had downstairs together if they did. More realistically, maybe Wednesday sitting at her desk, maybe writing or something, but the distinct lack of clickety-clacking tells her that she’s definitely not doing that. When she knocks again, a little louder, she receives an absolute silence.

Tentatively, Enid opens the door quietly. Her eyes meet the open expanse of Wednesday’s room with her creepy little crafts hung across walls and ceilings. A murder board hangs on one side of her room, filled to the brim as if she was on another investigation by herself.

She’s about to steal a look on the details before her eyes trail off to the side and see something unexpected. Wearing her usual all-blacks, Wednesday melts right into the background while seated in her armchair. But Wednesday is exceptionally silent with her eyes closed.

With the way the other girl is slumped slightly, head tilted on one side, and arms crossed in not her usual “dead” way, it says to her that falling asleep wasn’t meant to be on the schedule for the monochrome girl. Rarely does Wednesday let her guard down or get so exhausted to the point that she’d have to, and if she does, she just drinks a concerning amount of black coffee.

For a few quiet seconds, Enid gets down to her knees beside the chair and observes the other girl. Her hair curtains down her shoulders as if her bangs didn’t do it enough, shading a part of her face. It does nothing to hide the pouty lips and the pretty freckles atop her nose bridge. Enid is somewhat entranced by the secret exchange.

Biting her lip, she wants to see more of Wednesday’s face, to remember what it looks like when she’s at complete peace and not roleplaying as a corpse in bed. Enid pushes one side of her hair, hoping that it doesn’t wake the other girl up from her fitful sleep. She’s successful, she thinks, until Wednesday twitches. The slightest touch gets Wednesday immediately rousing a little, eyebrows twitching just slightly as if starting a grimace.

Very slowly, Wednesday’s eyes open. Starting from the floor going up until they meet Enid’s. Nothing seems to register on Wednesday’s face, like she’s either dead or void of emotion. Wednesday seems to go back and forth between her eyes and the other features of her face, searching.

When Wednesday reaches her hand up to her cheek, it’s then that Enid realizes that she’s forgotten to pull away after brushing Wednesday’s hair away. Their hands touch. The tension feels palpable with their eye contact.

Emotion bound, Enid calms her sentient heart. “Hey?” whispers Enid, wondering if that’d be enough of a reaction out of Wednesday. A smile peaks over her lips.

The other girl only scoffs like she doesn’t believe it and swallows. Then with a sense of qualm, Wednesday leans uncharacteristically into her hand, basically kissing it before she closes her eyes again. The only tell-tale sign that says she’s gone back to sleep is the eased sigh she lets out. Her grip on Enid’s hand has yet to loosen.

Enid remains there, still kneeling and wondering deeply about her reaction. What was she dreaming so peacefully about that she didn't even realize that Enid was already here? How sleep deprived was she that she let all of her hackles down? Enid doesn’t even think Wednesday sleeps a minimum of 6 hours a day like a normal person. (Then again, Addams aren’t normal people, are they?) When they were at Nevermore, Enid gave her the excuse of school, as they all did. But now… Wednesday didn’t look like she slept at all. Either way, Enid decides she deserves more sleep.

She prepares to move but stops, reminding herself. ‘ Wednesday’s like a cat. If I move, she’ll probably wake up. ’

‘ What’s so wrong with that? ’ a part of her mind says.

Besides her desire to give Wednesday what she needs, Enid doesn’t really know. But… only one reason is all she needs, right?

As the seconds pile on, gravity from Wednesday’s gradually weakening hold finally pulls her hand low until Enid can pull herself loose. She brings her hand closer to her chest, fighting her heart hammering against her ribcage and watching as Wednesday sleeps.

What snaps her out of this manufactured bubble of reality is Thing tapping her leg, signing that it’s time for lunch. Reluctantly, she stands up, feeling wobbly from the hardwood floor imprinting into her knees, and leaves Wednesday to her dreams.

Chapter Text

Enid doesn’t really have time to think about the moment once she leaves the room. As enthralling as it is to see the vulnerability on Wednesday’s face, there’s not a lot of time to think about it. Being flanked by both younger brothers and Thing makes it hard too, but she decides to make the most of it when she realizes she’s only got a day before heading out to the cabin, and she has no idea when she’s going to be back.

Lunch is just as enlightening as she would have expected it with the family asking if she’s been on any exciting adventures. It’s not much – just a few on-campus territory feuds, the Phoebe incident, and one interesting time where she almost got arrested for trespassing when she woke on an old lady’s third-story balcony after a night out. (She still doesn’t know how she got there.)

Besides her accidental illegal acts, she realizes more than ever that, her life genre’s changed more to slice-of-life than what it was before.

Not having an Addams in her life takes all the action, mystery, and adventure out, who woulda thought? But she would be a liar if she said she didn’t miss it a little.

Just as easily as it was nearly two years ago, Pugsley and Pubert go in tirades of their latest adventures, things they’ve done, experiments they’ve tried. Pugsley’s eager to show her the newest circus tricks he’s invented, and Pubert wants to show her his newest creepy crawlers and pictures of the dead things he’s taken souvenirs of, a hobby he’s undoubtedly picked up from a certain someone. The only thing that’s missing from the whole thing is Wednesday doing her usual of lecturing them for “bothering” her, which Enid’s pretty sure is just Wednesday’s way of saying “she’s my friend, not yours” and she’s always thought that was pretty cute of her.

It’s assuring the way that the conversation flows as though no time has passed at all. How easily she relaxes into it, like being wrapped by comfort. Like the two years without talking never happened.

The interaction melts away the worries she’s been harboring just under the water.

Truthfully, these worries aren’t small. They’re just things she’s been able to smother because she doesn’t have to think about them anymore. Being busy all the time kind of helps the distraction, but it doesn’t mean they don’t come up every once in a while.

Ever since that night in their second year, when she told Wednesday she wouldn’t apologize for being herself, she meant it.

But being who she was wasn't as easy when her family decided they knew where all the parts of her would go. Enid always knew she was a wolf, she felt it even when the other wolves doubted it. As soon as they saw her potential, her ‘new’ identity, she became the pride of the pack almost overnight. A trophy wolf to brag about to other nearby packs, then a prize for others to ask her hand for because of her potential and valor.

With that came the anger and frustration. The way things were drove her mad. Being toted around like something to show off wasn’t a life goal of hers, but she was still a growing wolf learning the ropes, not yet 18, and wolfed out only enough to count with two hands. She still needed them and they all knew it.

But then she came out to the pack, told them she had a girlfriend she loved. She’s always been a little afraid to speak up about who she was but she wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it—she just did.

Heat of the moment? Or maybe it was the part where her mother was hounding her again and again about dating that werewolf boy from the Kesler pack.

“Connections,” her mother said.

“ Whatever, ” Enid thought back.

When the shock of her delivery wore off, they told Enid she was confused, that she'd “get her fix” and come back with a better head to be with the pack. Because forget the fact that she was already in love with someone else, forget that they’re in the 21st century and lesbianism is the shit and normal and the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Because, as her mother always said, “loyalty to the pack was faith, and to be without it was to be lost.”

Everything about it angered her. It infuriated her, it confused her, and deep, deep inside, it hurt her how they could ignore everything she was so she would become what they thought she should be. She hated how nice they were about their rejection, how faithful they were that she’d know better and come back to them.

Enid would have rather taken their hatred than their willing ignorance. Let their expectations for her fall off like rain against an umbrella. Screw being part of the pack council; she didn’t want it if it cost her sense of self.

The last straw was when her yaya called her to ask when she would be finished playing “whore” and come back. So she eventually changed her number a few months ago and now they can’t ask at all.

By contrast, the Addams have a wonderfully effortless way of doing things that make her feel like she never has to try, never has to work for it, never has to be someone else. Trying never has to be the minimum for them to love, just existing was enough.

They embraced her as she was.

Even when certain areas of their brand of fun was not enjoyable to her, they always asked her if she wanted to partake, regardless of the activity, regardless if she would like it. They were around her because they wanted to be. Not because she gave them an edge against others, not because she’s brag-worthy, not because she should be nudged into marrying someone else appropriate.

They always challenged her in the best ways, without making her feel like she needed to do more.

Like now, with Gomez flinging a sword at her, blade exposed and unsheathed, she catches the weapon easily somehow. The metal is cool to her skin, but familiar from the summers Gomez had taught her how to fence better (and eventually branched off to other weaponry).

Meanwhile, the Addams man gives a loud cry, getting quickly carried away by his excitement. Having just finished lunch, the man is as full and energetic as the first day she met him. Age is truly just a number with his agility. He swings his own weapon down at her without a second’s notice. The ingrained practice of her instincts allows her to block easily, tilting the blade towards him so that his own touches his nose.

“ Loba maravillosa , I have missed our duels! Have you been practicing?” Gomez takes a step back for more ground.

“Can’t say that I have,” Enid says, taking the offense at the first pullback.

“Ah, but your confidence remains nearly uncontested! Dare I say, you would rival Wednesday herself!” Gomez laughs and celebrates with a new swing. Enid can only smile at the compliment or else her focus would be undone.

Back and forth, they take turns stabbing at each other. None of them hit or slice. It’s all in good fun anyway. But if either were an inch closer, their blades would probably put a hole in each other. Enid knows that the Addams patriarch would never do anything to truly hurt her though and that truly speaks to how professionally wild yet controlled he can be.

Every swing, every second gets their blood flowing as they flit across the study that’s clearly unfit for the riff-raff. Nonetheless, she knows House doesn’t mind the continued abuse with its limited ability to self-regenerate and occasionally move things around to avoid a cut. Or add to the fun of unsuspecting obstacles when she nearly trips over a carpet.

With the distinct absence from the respective smells of smoke, dead roses, and mint, she can tell Pugsley, Wednesday, and Lurch are missing from the impromptu show. Morticia seems to be enjoying a cup of tea while Pubert watches. The younger boy even gets a kick out of slinging rocks at them to spice up the fun. Thing flatteringly waves a pink flag in support.

When Enid feels like they’ve massacred enough of the room, she pushes forward after gathering some distance from the bold man. Her sword shoots through the air.

With it, newly sanded wood is pierced with a thunk behind Gomez. It barely misses his ear by an inch and with a touch of her own show of power, her elongated claws brush above the patriarch’s heart. Her smile grows wider just as Gomez pauses.

Gomez nods emphatically, a smile still on his face when he drops his own sword. A belly laugh erupts from his mouth. “Such strength and precision. My pride swells at the sight!”

“And your age is begging you for time to keep up with you, Gomez,” Enid pulls her claws back.

“And make it easy? Nay!” Gomez pulls her in for a great hug. Enid accepts it easily and with just as much intensity. “We are too lucky to be subject to you and your claws again!”

“Yeah, we may as well make you an Addams now!” Pubert says. He flings another rock towards them but misses this time. “Pugsley always trips when I throw rocks at him while he tries to practice with Pops! And sis always throws them back!”

“Now, now, Pubert. All in good time,” Morticia says with a soft smile.

“But I want Enid as a sister too! And then she’ll always be around! Wednesday wouldn’t mind!” The name coming from Pubert’s mouth sounds improper and adorable—‘ Wensdee, ’ he says instead—but she knows it’s not on purpose. It’s nice to think that Wednesday must let him say it how he wants since the pronunciation hasn’t changed since the last time she visited.

“Well, since I stopped talking to my pack, I might just take you up on that offer.” Enid offhandedly comments. She doesn’t miss the absolute joy on Pubert’s face at the mention, his tiny baby dimples showing from the incoming frenzy he must be feeling. He looks almost exactly like Wednesday does when Uncle Fester visits, that is if she were a child and had a more chipper disposition.

“Really? Ya mean it? I have to tell Pugsley and Wednesday!” The young boy dashes out with thumping feet.

Enid smiles at the excitable boy and gathers her attention to apologizing to House. The home groans softly in response to her pulling the sword out of a newly created crevice. The hole shrinks but doesn’t go away, like a dignified scar.

Morticia did not hide the amusement in her eyes when they followed Pubert out the room. “Do not mind your terrible mind about what Pubert said, Enid. His words are earnest but not meant to entrap you. You must understand, he’s just excited to see you again.”

“Oh no, I think a part of me really wants it too. Enid Addams has more of a terrible kick to it than Enid Sinclair, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does,” Gomez agrees, coming to sit beside his wife of many years. “But you sound unsure.”

“I guess a part of me is also holding out that my pack will… get it , y’know? I dunno.” Enid shrugs. “Also I’m not really sure how adopting someone eighteen plus will go legally either. I’m not exactly disowned.”

At the words, Gomez and Morticia only smile. They’re both pushed out of a reply when Wednesday bursts through the threshold in all her dark glory. Enid waits for Wednesday to scan the room before her gaze lands on her and their eyes connect. Wednesday wastes no time crossing the room and shooting a suspect glare at her parents.

“Howdy, Wednesday,” Enid chirps. She mimics how Pubert says it, causing Wednesday to prop an eyebrow and then send a nod of acknowledgement to her despite it.

“What nonsense are you two corrupting Enid with this time and why is Pubert acting like an overly excited child?”

Enid almost counters her with ‘That’s because he is one’ but decides against it.

“Terrible afternoon, storm cloud,” Gomez says. “We only engaged in some good fun! Sparring! Worry not, my spawn. Enid’s prowess remains intact.”

“Yeah, it was great! I won, of course.” Enid smiles cheekily.

“I expected nothing less,” Wednesday answers without any doubts before turning to her parents with a neutral face. “I’m stealing Enid.”

Wednesday takes her by the thin sleeve of her lightly sequined shirt before her parents could say anything else substantial. Enid is able to give them a wave at least before disappearing behind the corner with Wednesday.

It’s awkward the way Wednesday pulls her along. It almost feels like Wednesday doesn’t know if she should touch her, or like she needs permission to.

Whatever that’s prompting this sudden pullback is weird because she thought they were over that since Junior year. Wednesday's never needed permission to touch her and she’ll say it again and again if Wednesday needed. Besides, Enid would much rather have their arms locked together than this weirdness that’s happening, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

Enid knows she’s being uncharacteristically quiet. Wednesday has yet to comment on it but if she were clutching Enid’s wrist instead, perhaps she’d catch onto how fast her heartbeat is going.

The other girl doesn’t let go of her sleeve until they reach the door leading to the backyard. Wednesday holds it open for her like a proper gentlewoman as they enter the outdoors, the summer heat having intensified because of the height of the sun.

At two in the afternoon, the sun glares down at them, the absence of clouds foreshadowing not even a hint of breeze. Wednesday attempts again to grab her sleeve but Enid loops their arms together first like it’s natural. Wednesday stops momentarily but continues on with acceptance.

Enid smiles at that.

Wednesday pulls them towards the woods, which doesn’t really narrow down anything on where they’re going. The family has so many secret little spots scattered across the property and the forest beyond. Two summers and multiple winter breaks here doesn’t even cover the full expanse of the area.

It’s then that Enid decides she can’t keep up with her unusual silence. “So… where are we going?”

Wednesday muses on the question but doesn’t give a real answer. “I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Aw, I love me a secret but c’mon, Willa,” Enid whines, tugging Wednesday’s arm. “You can tell me! Please?”

“That’s why I’m showing you, unbelievable fool,” Wednesday shakes her head, hitting her arm lightly. “Besides, you’ll remember soon enough.”

That gets Enid thinking because that means that where Wednesday is taking her is somewhere she’s already been to, or has already been told about, so she must know where it is… Still doesn’t help her in figuring out where they’re going, but it keeps her quiet.

Maybe that’s Wednesday’s plan—to get her quiet and thinking so she wouldn’t be able to prepare for what she’d see—when they approach a somewhat familiar small plot of land just about a few hundred yards from the main property.

Enid gasps at the sight.

Decorated across the land are a field of wildflowers in an assortment of colors and types. All these pretty little things dye the grassy area, creating a picture of honeyed serenity rather than the desolate kind that it usually is.

Enid doesn’t know much about flowers, just that they’re pretty and wonderful and wow, she kind of wishes that flowers and flower languages were one of those things she was obsessed with knowing when she was younger.

The ones that she does recognize are simple coneflowers, daisies, and clovers in various colors and sizes. Everything else, she has no idea. But with how stunningly beautiful it looks together, the pinks, whites, and violet shades all around, Enid hardly cares what they’re called—just that they’re out of this world. She can’t remember the last time she’s been in a field of flowers.

But this wasn’t here the last time she came so why Wednesday would say she would remember?

Surprised to see so much color in such a small space, Enid takes a few steps forward, drinking up how gorgeous it looks. The grass naturally crunches below her. The light flowery smell hits her all at once.

“Did you…?” Enid walks across the grassland, careful of stepping on as little as possible.

“No,” Wednesday answers. “You did.”

Confused, the admittance causes Enid to turn back towards the other girl. Wednesday waits in the shade and observes her wonder with a soft look. She barely even realizes that Wednesday stayed behind the shaded trees but that brings her eyes toward the violets hidden under the tree line too.

Then gradually as she keeps thinking, she remembers the week before senior year was set to start. An inspired Enid danced around in her memory, deciding to go to a nursery for wildflower seeds. All different sorts and kinds, specific ones, random ones, anything that was nice and pretty in the picture of the bag.

It was a little funny, watching Wednesday fluster in her own little way at Enid’s insistence to plant a meadow in the backyard, but she put in the effort and Wednesday helped because Enid told her it was her sworn duty as a best friend.

She remembered the look Wednesday gave, the doubt that became palpable by the way her eyes squinted and lips slanted downwards a little more. Enid loved the short-lived surprise and disbelief. Still, Wednesday didn’t counter the argument at all and only went to fetch her favorite graveyard shovels in her room and steal some gardening tools from Morticia’s conservatory.

Enid had forgotten all about it because it was just a random thing that she wanted to do. She didn’t really expect any results because no one would be here to tend to it when no one knew about it but themselves.

It was fun during the time it lasted while giving both her and Wednesday an excuse to do something outside that… wasn’t something vaguely illegal or audacious. Something that was just them, and not with her brothers, her family or anyone else.

“Truthfully, it didn’t harbor results for some time so I had doubts that they would bloom at all, but they persevered well under their conditions,” Wednesday recounts, finally leaving the shade and moving forwards to meet her. Her eyes never seem to leave Enid’s. “I suppose anything that grows on our property defies the laws of logic just as much as any Addams will.”

“They’re so…” Enid doesn’t know what to call it without sounding basic. She does another scan of the field to take it all in. All of this is breathtaking in its own right. A new world in a small place, made into existence because of them.

Wednesday follows her line of sight, but catches interest at something at Enid’s feet. Approaching, she bends down to pluck a four-leaf clover from the ground and examines it.

Enid might have to laugh at the fact that a four-leaf clover has grown here. It’s like a one in a million chance to find a green little thing like that and somehow one grows its way into a place where Wednesday adamantly used to say pretty things couldn’t grow. Maybe she’s right about defying the laws of logic.

Wednesday seems to wait for her to finish her sentence, spinning the shamrock in her fingers slowly. “Phenomenal,” Wednesday finishes when Enid can’t bring the right word to mind.

And yeah, that sounds just right.

Enid nods, eyes twinkling and a smile touching upon her face tenderly when Wednesday offers the clover to her. “Phenomenal.”

—

Dinner was a decent affair. The boys whined that it’d only be one sleep before she left and they didn’t know when she’d be back. Pubert was particularly upset when he found out that she wasn’t actually going to become an Addams. She could tell Pugsley was too, but a lot more muted in his reaction as if he understood. Wednesday didn’t say anything about it, despite Pubert begging her to try harder to convince her. As sweet as it was, Enid didn’t know what to think about Pubert’s insistence towards Wednesday. 

But after dinner, as they approached each other’s doors, Enid had asked if they could share a room tonight for old time’s sake and Wednesday willingly opened the door to her. So here they were now, in different parts of Wednesday’s quarters.

Enid is standing in the middle of Wednesday’s bathroom, creating bubbles with toothpaste while Wednesday prepares for bed in the main room. The light tones of her strawberry vanilla shampoo and the natural sandalwood smell of Wednesday’s general space mingle well together and pleasantly.

Wednesday’s already finished using the bathroom, simply because she follows a strict schedule. Her writing hour finished at 9 as usual. But being late with it would be pushing her comfort zone now that it’s approaching 11.

“It feels nostalgic, doesn’t it?” The words come out garbled with the way her toothbrush swishes back and forth in her mouth, not that it bothers her too much.

Just over her shoulder, she spies Wednesday stopping just in her line of sight of the mirror, throwing a look. “It takes a special type of idiot to understand your nonsense when the mouth is full, Enid. I’m not one such. Finish before you choke on your own spit.”

Letting out a snort, she almost swallows the minty paste and proves Wednesday right. She spits into the sink, finishing the last of her night routine before leaving the checker-decorated bathroom. “I said, this is nostalgic, isn’t it?”

Wednesday hums, then heads to her walk-in closet. “I suppose it is.”

Meanwhile, Enid looks through her small luggage, carefully selecting what she’d like to wear the next day when she sees everyone and forming an idea of what kind of makeup she should wear when she does. Picking out a cute pink sheer-sleeved blouse and a clean flowy white skirt, along with a thin black belt, Enid is satisfied with her selection, if not missing a few accessories from home.

In the same minute, Wednesday re-emerges from her closet, a single, thin-woven blanket is in her arms as she throws it to the carpet ground. A pillow follows it shortly, making a ploff as it hits the floor.

“What’re you doin’?” Enid tilts her head at what already looks like a makeshift bed.

“I will sleep on the floor tonight and you can take the bed.”

“No way, are you crazy?” Enid exclaims. Wednesday opens her mouth to retort but Enid cuts her off, touching Wednesday’s lip when she splays her hand out to shut her up. Wednesday pulls back and squints. “Don’t answer that. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“There’s only one bed in this room, Enid.”

“Well, we can share then! It’s not like we’ve never done it before and your bed is big enough! Remember that time when I transformed and my wolf brain dream-destroyed my mattress? You let me sleep on your bed for like a week before they could replace it again!”

“Yes, and you kick in your sleep,” Wednesday says.

“What?! You never mentioned that years ago!” Enid gasps. But when Wednesday smirks, she knows she’s tricked into a reaction. “Okay, okay, whatever. But I’m still not letting you sleep on the floor in your room! It’s– it’s not weird to sleep on the same bed as your best friend!”

Wednesday’s face doesn’t change from the softened smirk, clearly satisfied by her verbal tease. “It’s fine. The rigidity is perfect for short-term torture. House wouldn’t be so terrible as to make it comfortable for me.”

When Wednesday begins to lay down, Enid can’t help the pout that reaches her face. Because that’s still not fair for her and not right. (More than that, it’s not what Enid wants.) It doesn’t matter to her that Wednesday is willing to forfeit her bed for her either.

It’s not as easy to have an eye on Wednesday, which is always something she found comfort in when they used to room together. When nightmares of Wednesday disappearing would sometimes come up and she’d wake up and look to Wednesday for purposeful breaths to assure her.

Sure, she could just lean over the edge and that’s easy, but the distance is far enough that she can feel it even if they’d be just 3 feet apart versus the 10 when they used to dorm together. If she’s on top of a bed while the other is on the floor, that’s not what they used to have and Enid doesn’t like it.

Chewing on her lip, Enid’s made up her mind as she grabs the pillows and comforter on Wednesday’s bed and lets them fall beside the other girl. Wednesday squints at the action.

“If you’re sleeping on the ground, then I am too.”

“You hate sleeping on the ground,” says Wednesday.

“Sometimes I can enjoy a little bit of hardwood too! I’m a werewolf, Wednesday. I sleep on the floor when I’m shifted.” Enid huffs.

Wednesday’s stare becomes more acute seeing her stubbornness and immaturity, but Enid doesn’t care that she does. “Will you promise me not to complain in the morning when it hurts your back?”

“Nope!”

Wednesday sighs at the quick answer. She doesn’t stop Enid from setting everything down though. Because Enid knows that she knows that Enid will do what she likes whenever she likes, as long as it’s not hurting someone. Enid simply pats everything into place, throwing the comforter over Wednesday and herself before plopping down herself.

The silence stretches on as Enid finds herself turned towards Wednesday, watching, while Wednesday preps herself in her usual corpse position. Arms crossed and blanket all the way up to her chin, Wednesday’s eyes flutter closed, seemingly unbothered by it all.

Enid follows each contour of her face, staring down pale skin and unbelievably long lashes. The freckles scatter along the bridge of her nose, littered by flecks of light brown. It’s distracting and deliberate how they stand out even in the dark. Whether Wednesday means it to or not, the paleness of her skin contrasts with the trail of those perfect imperfections.

Who says Wednesday could only be made of darkness when constellations make a home upon her skin too?

Enid’s always known how gorgeous they were, but she’s never let herself fully realize until now and she doesn’t know if that’s a good idea or not. If she’s close enough, she knows she can count how many there are and that’s perhaps the difference between the stars on her face and the ones in the sky.

The memory of this morning comes to mind again, how enthralling Wednesday looked– how sleepy, soft, and vulnerable.

Her eyes trail down, blessed with the sight of flowing silky hair. She resists the temptation to touch lest the blanket ruffles and Wednesday wakes up, simply opting to clutch tightly on the silk of her pillow instead.

Wednesday looks peaceful, breathing slow and measured, like she’s already fallen asleep. She probably already has. Enid used to have a hard time telling before she realized that Wednesday’s breath would even out like this once she’s fallen asleep, despite her trying to appear already dead in her sleep. Enid almost falls for her act too until Wednesday speaks, “Do I have something on my face?”

Enid doesn’t realize that her stare means she’s expecting something from the other girl with her intense stare. Though she supposes that that’s what happens when the person you’re looking at has the instincts of an evolved human being.

Enid shakes her head but Wednesday doesn’t see it with the way her eyes are closed. The lack of a verbal response gets Wednesday to open her eyes, turning her head towards Enid. “Well?”

The way Wednesday turns, the moonlight outside hits her eyes just perfectly, fulfilling a new quota of heart palpitations. They’re more ethereal than Enid remembers—less like the black of an uncontrolled animal like others describe it as, less like voids of color and mystery. Still a lot like twin blackholes pulling her in.

Snapping back to the present at the call of her name, Enid does have something she wants to ask Wednesday. One she’s always been afraid to ask because she’s been afraid to know, but maybe she feels ready now.

“Remember that time at Nevermore where… we… kind of talked about love?”

“Not precisely, no… Jump my memory.”

“Just— you said you didn’t know how to love, or like someone… you didn’t know if you could. Normally.” Enid starts. “What did you mean by that?”

Wednesday seems to pause, unsure of how to respond. Eyes swim around the room as if to search for the right way to respond. The answer is just on the tip of her tongue it seems, by the way Wednesday opens her mouth and tries to form a word.

After a few seconds, she turns her body completely towards Enid as if to show her that she has her full attention, or something else. “It was likely self-explanatory. Love doesn’t come naturally to me, Enid. I know when I care for someone, but love is… a hard emotion to pin down for me. It’s too subtle, hard to classify, and there are too many forms of it.”

Enid thinks as much. Caring is easy, she knows that, but despite herself, loving can be hard too. She knows love because she has a lot of it. She can feel it and feels it strongly. Whether she gives it or gets it is a different thing altogether. But to realize love, to embrace or stop it, to feel and understand it, there’s no textbook definition that encompasses it.

Science can explain it all it likes, that it’s chemicals and hormones and evolution, but Enid has the personal belief that the meaning of it can only be felt, explained by examples, and hard to put into words.

Honestly, if she knew what love completely was, she wouldn’t have gotten a boy crush she had for Ajax mixed up for love. So if Enid can sometimes have trouble with it, it wouldn’t be too unbelievable that Wednesday would get lost in knowing what is and isn’t.

Just as Enid thinks Wednesday is finished explaining, she continues evenly. “But my years since that statement has taught me that if it was for the right person—or if someone was foolish enough to worm into my affections—nothing would be impossible.” Wednesday still has her pinned with her eyes, but Enid catches Wednesday tracing a knitted thread on the edge of her pillowcase with the little that the blanket doesn’t cover. “I’d learn whatever expression they needed. I’d likely do anything they wanted.”

The implication that Wednesday may have met this person she’s learned to ‘love’ weighs on her heavier than the blanket atop them both. Whoever it is, they must be the luckiest person, because Wednesday doesn’t care easily, let alone love easily. Enid knows it fully but she also doesn’t like to think that she shares a part of that heart with someone else.

Somehow she’s not ready to admit that Wednesday could feel love. Now she doesn’t know what she expected when she asked that question, what answer she wanted to hear, but she realizes she shouldn’t have expected one at all.

Maybe, though, Wednesday meant it platonically. If it’s platonic, she doesn’t mind because that space has to be on a different floor of Wednesday’s heart altogether, right? She thinks, anyway.

Enid laughs tightly, treading carefully in saying the next words, crafting it to hopefully be understandably platonic. “Right, like… how Eugene couldn’t find anyone to take care of the bees and you offered your home to them for him?”

Wednesday seemed not to outwardly change much except for the squint of her eyes and the millimeter adjustment of her lips. “Right.”

The plastic smile on Enid’s face feels inflexible. Somehow, Wednesday’s response doesn’t help to quell the nerves strung by her question. Even though she doesn’t mind if it’s Eugene, or any of their friends, Enid feels an uncertainty.

“Is that all?”

Enid realizes then that maybe she wasn’t ready for the answer after all. Because there’s nothing else she wants to ask. Nothing that she’s brave enough to ask anyway.

‘Who’s the lucky someone?’ she might ask if she was.

Instead, she nods, “Yeah.”

Wednesday mirrors her nod, hand finishing the last trace of thread and brushing briefly over Enid’s splayed open hand. Cold touches warmth, fingers flutter atop another. Wednesday pauses at the contact, but Enid knows it’s not a vision by how she hasn’t gone tense and has yet to break eye contact.

Wednesday scans her like she’s looking for something. She gives her an unidentifiable look, eyebrows tilted upwards to look almost… confused? It’s one she’s seen once before, the one just this morning when Wednesday was half-asleep—followed by the very slight quirk of her lips. There’s a slight tension that Enid can’t peg in the moment but it gets cut when Wednesday murmurs. “Horrid dreams, Enid.”

“Horrid dreams,” Enid echoes before Wednesday transforms back into her corpse state, the coolness goes away, and leaves Enid’s mind wandering again, this time alone.

She doesn’t realize how tired she is until she closes her eyes. It makes sense though, when she’s been awake since 3 in the morning. She’s basically been awake for almost 21 hours and her body is begging for rest. She’s pretty sure nothing could wake her up as her body relaxes, embracing the muted scent of rose and sandalwood and the imagined caress in her hair.

—

When morning comes, things move along as normally as possible. Mostly, anyway.

The part where Pubert crash lands himself atop Enid and screams at her to wake up while she’s asleep scares her half into the graveyard. She’s pretty sure they have a spare (un)marked grave in their family cemetery for her, but she’s not ready to skip the part where she has a wife and lives a long life with a career just yet.

It feels all too familiar to when she used to live with five werewolf brothers dogpiling on top of the last person still asleep on a weekend. Enid was on that end of the tradition one too many times for her liking.

Enid can’t stop the groan that leaves her mouth when Pubert accidentally(?) headbutts her stomach again. She thinks he’s getting too comfortable too quickly about it even though she knows it’s a form of affection from the youngest Addams.

Unlike the last time when he tried to drill into her stomach at her arrival, Wednesday is there to pick him up and shove him away. Wednesday mutters an unclear threat at her little brother, kicking him out before he causes anymore trouble for them both.

“I swear if he grew horns, I’d have to start fearing for my life,” Enid mumbles, face planting into the pillow. She digs her face into the cloth, breathing in strawberry vanilla that diffused into it, and trying her best not to gather her bearings because ugh , she just wants to go back to sleep.

“He still has time,” Wednesday comments.

Enid lifts her head. “You’re going to tell me the Addams have fraternized with a demon, too?”

“You don’t believe that the demon those idiots at Nevermore summoned was simply being kind , did you?” Wednesday says, not giving away any hint of tease before going on with her day.

Enid scoffs lightheartedly. She feels like she should be surprised but she’s not, only flopping her head back on the pillow.

Against her better judgment, she tries closing her eyes again in a short attempt to nap. Yet regardless of Wednesday’s efforts of being quiet and Enid’s in covering her head with the covers, her internal clock is interrupted with the dulling ache on her stomach. It’s hard to stay asleep so shortly after that heart attack; the Addams style breakfast being fixed downstairs hardly helps the slow build of her appetite too. Now that her senses are waking up, the effort to go back to sleep gets harder and harder.

Instead, her eyes start to follow Wednesday as she moves mechanically around the room. It seems like she’s organizing a secondary story line for her latest book, completely focused. How long, Enid isn’t sure. However, by the way some papers and sticky notes sit scattered on her desk while she arranges the string, it’s been a while.

The way she mechanically moves around the room makes it seem like nothing happened. Or like she didn’t just sleep on the floor for 6 or 7 hours. Enid would be in awe of it if she didn’t previously live with Wednesday for 3 years before it. What she is in awe of is how easy it is for them to pretend their conversation—the softness in Wednesday’s eyes, the unasked questions, the tension—never happened. Enid’s too anxious of the subtext of what it means to bring it back up again.

Eventually, Wednesday floats her way around the room, opting to prep first. Which is a good thing too because Enid’s GRWM morning notoriously takes a long time when it’s for a “no work, all play” outing.

Wednesday finishes in 30 minutes. Enid doesn't realize the amount of time that’s passed until the bathroom door squeaks. The amount is just enough that Enid does start to drift in and out of consciousness before the sound of the door opening occurs.

With her hair wet and under a towel, Wednesday is mostly dressed in day clothes rather than her pajamas. She says something that Enid totally misses because of her sleepy senses as she enters the walk-in closet, looking for something. It reminds Enid to kickstart her brain.

“Hm?”

“What time is the fools committee expected to be there?” Wednesday asks again.

Enid let out a chuckle at Wednesday’s one-of-many nicknames for the Nightshades. Before she answers, Enid whines and stretches until she feels the satisfying crack in her joints. The sleepiness flows out through the gaps with each pop.

“There’s not really a set time, but the time we can get there is probably after 12, ‘cause that’s when Bianca will be there and they won’t let anyone in unless the person who rented it through the app checks in.”

“When do you want to get there?”

“Maybe 1 or 2 would be good? We have plans for a late lunch for all of us but it’s probably just gonna be Bianca and I because the others will probably have snacked the whole way there, if they even get there on time, and Yoko isn’t gonna be there until nightfall ‘cause of last minute family stuff.”

Wednesday finally exits her closet. “How long does it take to get there?”

“If there’s no surprises, one hour. Or if I don’t get lost,” Enid laughs.

Humming in understanding, Wednesday seems to have gotten the information she’s asked for and carries on with her morning, sitting at her dresser.

Taking the time to shoot a reply to all her unreads before locking her phone and lying lazily in her makeshift bed, she finds herself looking at Wednesday for inspiration on what to do. She doesn’t feel like getting ready or endlessly scrolling through TikTok when she’s got such a limited time with the other girl.

With Enid’s head resting on the pillow, she concentrates on the only other person in the room as Wednesday splits her hair evenly in two, preparing to tie them into her familiar braids. Truth be told, it’s her first time actually seeing Wednesday braid her own hair because she had a thing where she had to fix it when no one was looking. It’s part of the reason why Enid was so shocked to see her hair down in public after not seeing her in so long, so this– this must be special.

Enid watches as fingers weave the hair delicately, practiced and easy. The form of a braid gradually forms, thinning towards the end with not a strand peeking out of place. Down until the last three or so inches is when Wednesday starts tying bands to keep them locked in its shape.

“Is there any reason why you’d braid your hair sometimes and leave it other times?”

Wednesday slows down marginally in doing the last loop of the first braid. “Do you prefer it down?”

“No, I like you with your hair down or braided. You’re pretty no matter how you put your hair, Willa. I was just curious,” Enid replies, a goofy smile forming on her lips.

Wednesday nods once before continuing. Wednesday begins splitting the other side in three parts when she turns scarcely and looks down at her with a face of admonishment. “It is nearing 8, so if your morning preparation is what I remember it being, you’d better prepare now if you’d like to have some time to loiter before leaving,” warns Wednesday.

Upon recommendation, Enid sighs dramatically and does what she must even though she’d rather keep watching Wednesday’s routine and talking to her. She heads towards the bathroom with her products, outfit of the day, and everything else relevant to her morning. By the time the clock hits 9, she deems herself ready to start her day.

When she finally leaves, she finds Wednesday fixing something that’s on her tall bed. The sound of clattering and rustling of things fill Enid’s ears. Wednesday shuffles left to right, looking into a large, vintage saddle tan suitcase.

‘She’s packing,’ Enid realizes with the way she fits items into a small bag neatly. Wednesday did say she would move things around to slot time for yesterday in but she didn’t know she was that busy to start packing for another trip.

Enid thought that the business she was getting up to until the 14th was the thing that would take up her month, but it didn’t occur to her that maybe Wednesday had some more things she’d have to prioritize now that yesterday was over.

That makes Enid sad though because that means their little moment is coming to an end. Enid will trudge along with life and college and responsibility until the next time they find the time for each other, or more accurately when she finds the time for her.

That’s fine and dandy, sure. (It’s not.)

But who knows when she’ll have time to meet Wednesday and her amazing, kooky little family again? Who knows when she’ll feel the safety of being part of a family again?

Just as Wednesday finishes the last of her packing, slamming the top down and locking the latches, she turns to face Enid to see her staring back at her. Wednesday gives her an inquisitive look.

Embarrassingly when Enid is about to speak, her stomach calls to the mixed invasive smell of eggs, bacon, chicken liver, and other hearty morning cuisine. Enid takes a moment to herself to let the feeling flush out but Wednesday isn’t that merciful as to not tease her about it.

“Breakfast?” Wednesday says with a neutral look, but Enid can still see the amused smirk she’s trying to control.

“Shut up,” Enid mumbles before heading towards the door, grabbing Wednesday’s hand with her following behind.

—

Inevitably, time flies when you’re trying to savor it. Breakfast is too fast for anyone’s enjoyment. Or torture—whichever is the preferred word here for the Addams.

Three hours really isn’t enough for everything. How is she supposed to get everything together, have a little time to hang out, and say her goodbyes without rushing? A ten-minute conversation easily turns into an hour for her. Enid doesn’t know how she’ll manage but she sure as hell tries her best.

It’s a lot of fun though. Where she would usually spend her morning getting ready for bed because of the late shift, or eating breakfast (or “dinner”) with a podcast or video running in the background, the rambunctious bunch fills up her entire morning with their antics and fun and all topics weird and unusual.

At the vague mention of leaving again, Wednesday was made to wrestle her littlest brother into a mummy straitjacket with a weird mechanism because he whined that she didn’t do it last time before she left, all while throwing Pugsley under the bus for being bad at giving him a challenge to get out of it. Enid knows she shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but she is anyway when Wednesday admits to her that she and Pugsley had done the exact same thing to each other growing up, pre-Nevermore.

As the time approaches noon, Enid stands outside of the home and just by the open door, bags already packed and preparing for her trip. Her rideshare driver is just under 5 miles away so it’s only a matter of time before she’s gotta go, but she’s a little preoccupied about one little thing.

Everyone except for Wednesday, strangely enough, is alongside her waiting with her. The black and white girl disappeared somewhere as Enid was lugging her things down the stairs. She assumed that the girl needed to use the restroom or something, but she’s been gone for almost 10 minutes since then.

Her attention in patiently waiting for Wednesday to reappear is stolen when Gomez places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing once to give her his warmth. From behind him, Morticia stands with the rest of the family at their flank. This time Pugsley has a real firm grip on their baby brother, which is apparently not too hard when he’s stuffed in a straitjacket.

“Alright, the driver’s gonna be here in a few minutes so I guess we should start,” Enid says, knowing they understand what she means. She does get a hint of bewilderment on their faces but it’s brushed off as soon as Gomez agrees briefly.

“Have you got everything?” Gomez begins.

“Yep! All my stuff right here. My phone, charger! Everything I can think of anyway!”

“Is there anything you’ll need for your trip then?” Pugsley says.

“Um,” Enid thinks, running through the items one more time just in case. She shakes the water bottle in her hands to make sure it’s full. “Nope!”

“And is there anything you want?” Morticia asks next.

Enid smiles, heart full at the full interaction. The way they fret isn’t unlike what she’d imagine parents to be like if they actually cared about their kids. She appreciates it because it makes her feel like a kid again, loved despite her flaws, and a part of a real family.

“I could use a hug?” Enid says. That brings the whole family, those that are there at least, to huddle in and give her the bestest, greatest hug she’s gotten in a long, long time. She’s basking in the warmth when a new notification on her phone begs for attention. They have to part because of the sound.

Expecting it to be about the driver, or something from one of her chats, she’s surprised to see that the notification is about her rideshare driver, but 100% not what she expected. What she sees is her rideshare driver canceling her ride suddenly when they were just a few minutes set to arrive.

Confused, Enid whispers a curse at her screen, debating to ring the driver about why though she can kind of already guess the reason.

Effectively, this means she doesn’t have a ride to the cabin now. Not without taking resources from the family and bothering Lurch for a ride, and they’ve never been open to accepting compensation for it.

This means she doesn’t have to rush at least (yay?) but man, does it suck. Usually, not a single person within the town is willing to drive by or pass the Addams property. She’d been looking at all the apps she has access to since 10 in the morning and this driver was the only one willing. (Though the extra tip incentive probably helped them on the decision…)

Knowing now that there’s no car that will be coming, she sighs at the empty street through the fences. She probably won’t be getting another ride on the apps when it took forever for the first one to come through. At the very least she’ll have to leave the property to rent a car instead.

“What’s wrong?” Gomez says, the suspense of her curse probably captured all of their curiosities.

“My driver… they canceled the ride,” Enid says back.

In the same second, Wednesday pulls up in her classic black car, a different one from what she drove in that time she came over to her dorm. For a bit, Enid wonders what happened to the first car. The family probably has a huge garage of them to choose from, but it’s a little funnier to think that Wednesday might have crashed again and has possession of a new car.

Wednesday exits the vehicle, marching up the short stairs, ignoring everyone else as she goes back into the house. When she leaves the home, she has her large suitcase in hand when she stands beside Enid. “Are you ready?”

Enid gives a wry smile, shrugging. “Oh um, yeah, but… someone just canceled on me so…”

“Cancel?”

“Yeah, my rideshare driver was like a minute away and they canceled suddenly.”

Wednesday’s face crinkles in confusion, picking up Enid’s rolling luggage too. “Don’t be absurd, Enid. I’m driving you.” Wednesday doesn’t wait for Enid’s reaction before she descends down the steps.

“What? But aren’t you busy?” Enid flusters, taking a few steps down to follow Wednesday.

“No,” Wednesday answers. “My days are free starting today.”

“Then… why were you packing this morning?”

Wednesday doesn't say anything while she opens the trunk of the car. Some things get shuffled around in the back before the antique suitcase gets carefully placed in, followed by Enid’s.

“I’m going with you.” Wednesday says, then adds. “To the Nightshades gathering.”

“You are?” Enid looks back and forth from the Addams family and Wednesday herself. The family doesn't even seem surprised at Wednesday’s statement, but more or less expectant of it. Dots connect quickly when she realizes this must be why they were confused about her mentioning a driver.

Pugsley waddles forward with Pubert under his arm, still trying to figure out how to get out of his restraints. When he’s just close enough to whisper in Enid’s hearing peripheral, Pugsley winks. “She did everything before you came.”

Enid doesn’t know what to say to that. Maybe ‘I knew it!’ but that doesn’t really leave her mouth at the surprise and very sudden announcement that Wednesday would be coming with her. Even more, that she would be her driver.

A part of her wonders about her sanity with Wednesday behind the wheel, suddenly hoping her made-up story about Wednesday crashing her car again isn’t true.

Wednesday, herself, steps up towards them, saying her own words of departure and the obligatory hug and threats of affection that don’t sound like affection to her parents and siblings. Morticia gives Wednesday a certain look that says she knows something, but Enid has learned better than to ask about something that Morticia has probably had a vision about.

Wednesday mutters something French under her breath that Enid doesn’t really understand before leaving and heading down the stairs and straight for the driver’s seat.

Enid is about to follow when Morticia calls out to her again. This time, Morticia takes her into another full hug, one that is different from having a whole family on her back. One that reminds her that a mother doesn’t have to be the only one you share your blood with.

Enid reciprocates sincerely with her whole body, but not her whole strength.

“Remember not to be a stranger, Enid,” Morticia says. Once the embrace ends, the motherly figure holds onto Enid’s hands gingerly. “Do not forget: an Addams is not always an Addams by name.”

With enough time, Enid pieces her mind back together. “I won’t,” Enid says back.

When they peel off the driveway with Gate opening easily for their departure, Enid gives one look back to the family, waving to them earnestly and thankfully for the love they’ve granted her for the day she’s there.

Looking to Wednesday, she gets another wave of indescribable emotions as she leans her head onto the seat, barely able to distract herself with messages from Phoebe coming in.

Chapter Text

August 15

The first night at the Cabin is spent in chaos, though not so much disaster. It’s spent in a way that throws them back into what they all used to be. Just teenagers figuring themselves out in a world that had no sympathy for kids like them, where the most obvious of them only looked like monsters to the cynical and behind honeyed yet shaming eyes. Back when existing meant just enjoying themselves and having nothing to do but being idiot kids and doing cosmically stupid things.

There’s streamers and poppers, pizza and alcohol—lots of alcohol—karaoke and activities in a hat. The music keeps going even when no one is at the karaoke machine. They’re frankly lucky that there aren’t any neighbors for the next mile that they know of.

They didn’t mean for tonight to be the drinking night. But one thing led to the next—order never really meant too much when you’re trying to have fun, anyway—and suddenly everyone’s hammered to hell. Enid’s pretty sure even Bianca isn’t sure how it got there but Yoko’s alcoholic ass (or her preferred moniker, ‘a connoisseur of the alcoholic arts’… whatever that means) wasn’t very helpful either once she got here.

(Plus, she wouldn’t mind a bit of distraction.)

Anyway, the pressure of being a “responsible young adult” means jack shit tonight. Enid even feels the stress of it slide off her shoulders with every gulp of the mix Yoko’s put together. She’s honestly in love with the taste. It’s got a pink lemonade-y passion fruit kick to it, even with the amount of sake she saw her pour in. (Maybe if Enid asks the vampire, she could get a cheap bottle from the Tanaka brewery at a discount too?)

She drinks so much that she almost forgets what it means to stand up. Her mind is clouded enough that left means right depending on who’s talking. Her directional orientation changes every time someone yells at her for using the wrong hand in a game of drunk reverse charades. She might be a few drinks away from black out drunk.

Luckily though, being a kinda grownup werewolf means the alcohol should filter a little faster. (Okay, maybe that’s not how it works but it’s the thought that counts, she thinks.)

So despite her lack of kinesthetic control now, she can still hold a conversation with enough time. Once the movement games are all over and everyone mellows out, eating whatever leftovers from dinner while letting the alcohol die out in their systems. An hour of time-out until things maybe kick off again, unless they fall asleep.

When she’s about to bring up something—a silly shenanigan involving Wednesday and a break-in to the new principal’s office to find out what they could about him—she realizes then that the other girl is gone, nowhere in sight. When she gets her bearings altogether, she figures the kitchen might be her best bet since Wednesday hardly ate anything earlier. And if there’s any left, maybe a little bit of that punch-sake mix Yoko put out too.

Two birds, one stone!

As she gets up toward the kitchen, Enid lets out a small laugh at the weak attempt from the twins to make the place more ‘home-y’ and party-like with the letter banner they slapped onto the wall earlier in the day. Instead of something that actually suits the situation, ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ is lazily taped with scotch tape they got from the back of Kent’s car. It’s super out of place, but Enid gives them points for trying anyway.

When she gets there, what greets her isn’t Wednesday but Ajax standing by the kitchen sink, probably high out of his mind like he usually is, or maybe just starting by the way he’s trying to light one up. Whatever it is, he’s at least some level of inebriated as her but the pungency of it reminds her how much she never really liked the smell.

Seeing her, he gives an easy smile and lets out a simple, “Sup?”

Enid reciprocates, “Hey Ajax. Bianca is going to kill you if you burn the place down.”

“I’m next to the sink! Its kin saved many gorgons! Especially if that gorgon is named Ajax Petropolus,” Ajax caresses the sink like it’s his baby while holding his joint. It’s comical to the point that Enid lets out a humored scoff. He lets the moment die down for a second before leaning back on the kitchen counter. His voice seems to soften in a sentimental way. “Been some time since we chatted.”

“We still talk,” Enid wanders, peeking at the counter for a glaringly missing dispenser of alcohol.

“In the group chat, yea. A few Tiktoks and Instareels here and there,” Ajax shrugs. “But we haven’t really.”

Enid frowns, trying to swim through her memories of the last two-ish years. The more she thinks about it, he’s right.

Besides complaining about the silence from Wednesday and Phoebe’s incident, there's not much that she's really talked to the whole Nightshades group chat about recently. Well, actually there’s a lot she talked about but there’s multiple group chats for different reasons, and different people in each one. Enid isn’t really sure she’s even mentioned having a girlfriend in the main group chat with everyone else, which isn’t for a lack of trying… The topic just doesn’t come up naturally when everyone is in the room somehow.

Apart from those chats, she doesn’t really contact the others individually as often as she used to because there’s just so much going on personally. She supposes, the group chat that she frequents—both the full and the girl’s chat—does well to fool her into thinking she’s already talking to everyone enough.

Enid sends Ajax a few videos that remind her of him, or the dumb things they’ve done, maybe a few recipes she thinks he should try, and vice versa from time to time. Sometimes she’ll message him for some cooking tips if something goes wrong. Not to mention, the one instance when Ajax asked her if she was okay about what happened with Wednesday. But that’s about it and that was half a year ago.

Enid sighs, gaining a little clarity. “Sorry, just a lot going on all the time, you know?”

Ajax shakes his head. “No sweat, Enid. I was just sayin’. Really, we’re okay. It’s not like I’ve been DMing you either.”

Enid nods but a silence between them builds when neither creates a dialogue past that. The feeling from it becomes palpable and almost uncomfortable as a minute passes in that quiet. Enid gives herself the chance to let her mind wander then, wondering obscurely where Wednesday could have gone.

Ajax breathes in the joint again. It burns like cinders, paper becoming kindled crimson to decaying white. When the effects start to settle in, he finally breathes out. He gives it a second before he speaks, probably noticing how stretched the silence has become. “So you made up with Wednesday, huh?”

“Yeah,” Enid says. “We made up. We weren’t really fighting, I guess.”

“Look, I know I already said that in the group chat before but honestly, I’m happy to hear you got back with her.” Ajax tilts his head toward her. “I really hated that for you when it happened. Reminds me of what happened between me and Xavi, y’know? It sucks.”

Enid remembers a little about that. Honestly, after Xavier transferred out, the Nightshades never really heard from the other psychic again. A lot of them moved on. Wednesday especially was even glad to be rid of him but the hurt lingered on Ajax so much more. She figured it was because they’ve all been cut out of his life without discrimination.

(Which was fine for her, honestly. They weren’t really great friends and it was hard to like him when Wednesday made an off-handed comment—which Enid then had to wrench more out of her—about how weird he’d be towards her sometimes.)

It wasn’t until another Nightshader outside their main circle had told her that the two were kind of in a situationship that it clicked why he was off somewhere else and getting high so much more, and she felt absolutely horrible for not checking in.

“Yeah, it… sucked for a long time.”

“But you’re like—” Ajax put the joint on his lips and pressed his fingers together. “—now, right?”

“What? I’m a little too fucked up for your sign language right now, Ajax.”

“Um, you’re good? Together, kinda?” Ajax tries. The words don’t seem to be sticking on his mind the more the cannabis and alcohol mix in his system. He taps his forehead as if it’ll help his mind to catch up with how fast he can say his words. “F-fu–uck, what’s the word again? I dunno, like, the same as before or something?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Same as before,” Enid confirms, thankfully still too drunk to overthink whatever other meaning Ajax could have meant. Or to contemplate the other epiphanies about their relationship that Enid is really trying not to think of. Sometimes the simplest answer is the easiest one.

Ajax nods, “Cool. Do you think she’d kill me if I asked to be invited to the official get-together party when it happens?”

Enid squints at him, confused about what he’s talking about because they’re already at the get-together party, aren’t they? He’s probably so high, he doesn’t even realize what year it is, so Enid laughs regardless. “Yeah, stoner. You’re invited.”

Ajax’s smile only deepens with a haze she can see has started settling in. He flicks the cherry of the joint and puts it into a small metal case. He readjusts his beanie to make sure it’s not slipping. “I’m gonna head back to the others. See you in a minute?”

“Yeah, hey, and uh… do you know where the rest of the pink drink is? I swear there was more but…” Enid mentions before he leaves completely.

“Sorry, I drank the last of it. Yoko put the rest of the alcohol over there at the bottom thingy if you wanna try to make it yourself. Maybe try something neat for a change?” Ajax points at the corner closest to Enid.

Enid gives an unimpressed look, because hello? How the hell would she be able to mix something that good herself? While drunk? She’s pretty sure that Yoko probably put some kind of special thing that’s a little more poisonous for the average outcast that makes it so good.

Not to mention, she remembers trying alcohol neat once at her initiation party into the Nightshades and she swore off it ever since because it was kind of nasty. She’s not against trying it again since it’s been years—maybe her tastes have changed a little—but sweet and fruity is just so much better taste-wise.

Ajax only shrugs apologetically in response and thumbs towards the double glass doors. “Okay, well, I think I saw Yoko go to the back patio if you wanna ask her to make you something special.”

Finally, Enid gives him her eternal thanks with a sigh and waves him off. Part of her thinks that’s a good thing that she can stop indulging in her alcoholism but another part of her really just wants to let loose a little more. Just one more cup, you know? So what if it happens to be a full solo cup?

When her stomach grumbles to signal a renewed sense of hunger, she adds ‘food’ to her list of missions too. 

Making quick work of it, Enid pops two pepperoni slices into the microwave and plucks a single cold cheese one from its box.

Then without warning, Yoko calls out to her. Not quite scaring Enid, but still surprising her a little.

“Enid! What are you doin’ just standing there alone?” The vampire stands at the half wall that obscures sight to the patio, unrelenting in playful aggression. The devil puts her hand up. “Ah, ah, wait. Lemme guess, you’re lookin’ for your girl?”

Enid smiles her usual. “If ‘my girl’ was you, you’d be right.”

(Kind of.)

Yoko hums, wide-eyed, and clicks her tongue, “Me? I don’t buy it.”

Enid’s face twists in pretend annoyance as she looks at the plate of pizza that she almost forgot she had. “I was looking for you, but I got hungry first.” And she was looking for Wednesday before that.

…Not something she’d say out loud though.

“Now that, I kind of believe. A growing wolf’s gotta eat, and you’re scrawny as fuck. Did you even eat?” Yoko pinches the sides of her stomach, knowing full well she’s ticklish there. A yelp comes from Enid’s mouth as she’s chewing on a bite. “I would have expected at least 2 more slices on that plate though.”

“I eat enough!” Enid says, hitting Yoko once for the assault. She only adds the next part when she sees Yoko squint at her, unconvinced. Yoko has a sarcastic look on her face, obviously about to say something but Enid takes the first dibs at talking first. “Look, I was feeling killer for another cup of the pink drink. Think you could make me a cup?”

“You have blush on your face. I think you need to ease up on the alcohol, you,” Yoko scrutinizes.

“You’re one to talk. Just one? Please?” Enid begs, hopefully employing her puppy eyes the right way.

At first, Yoko looks like she’s going to be a hard opponent to convince, but Enid knows how Yoko is, with her taste for alcohol being finer (read: unhealthier) than anyone else’s in the Nightshades to date. Yoko’s face morphs in phony exasperation after a while. “Okay. Okay! But only because I want more too and you get only half the cup. The other half is mine. All of it, if you’re not careful.”

Enid grins cheekily at Yoko who pushes her lightly for fun.

“I gotta take a piss first though. In the meantime, Miss Goth is on the back patio if that’s who you’re really looking for. I’ll leave you two to do…” Yoko trails off, looking between her and where Wednesday vaguely is and waving her palm between them before leaving. “… whatever you two do. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Enid huffs. “Shut your yapper, weirdo!”

When Yoko disappears with a cackle, that leaves Enid to take the chance given to her. She heads towards the doors leading to the back patio. The sliding glass door is slightly open from where she can see it and just enough for one person to walk through.

As she approaches closer, Enid sees, in clear full view, the image of a Wednesday practically frozen in time. She has yet to move even an inch, like a stone gargoyle, but prettier for what it’s worth. And real. Ethereal, in a sense. Enid reckons the cost of a petrified Addams alone would make the place invaluable.

Enid’s feet take her forward, bringing her in the expansive blackness unreached by the porchlight. The moon does its best to grant her its glow so her eyes can adapt to the grounds beyond.

“Had enough of the half-wits?” Wednesday says first like she has eyes on the back of her head, as if she knew her new visitor was Enid rather than anyone else.

A giggle escapes Enid’s lips before she can stop it. It takes one, two, three strides and nearly tripping over her feet for her to get close to Wednesday. Enid peeks over to see her side profile as she stands beside Wednesday.

Whatever had Wednesday’s attention before has been robbed and now Enid is the one deemed worth the undivided attention judging by how quickly the other girl’s gaze shifts towards her. Enid is a thief, despite her drunken self, but the attention doesn’t make her feel bad about it at all.

“No, never,” Enid says with a lilt in her voice at the dark oak eyes staring at her. “I just kinda missed you in there. I looked but I didn’t see you leave.”

“And you might never,” Wednesday says with finality.

“Like a ghost in the night, hm?” Enid says. “How’d you know it was me?”

“You have a peculiar walk,” Wednesday says, “especially when you’re intoxicated.”

“No, I don’t! What does that mean?” Enid pouts but Wednesday responds with no words and barely a change on her face. “Fine, whatever.” Enid brings the plate up to Wednesday’s face. Wednesday pulls her head back in the offense of stolen space. “Hungry? I got you a slice. It’s the cheese one, by the way.”

“I’ve eaten,” Wednesday purses her lip.

“You’re a liar. All you had was coffee and maybe half the burger I got you before you gave it back to me earlier. You didn’t eat dinner either. I saw.” Enid tugs on the crook of her arm, leaning over to the shorter girl enough that she hopes Wednesday doesn’t recoil from the alcohol on her breath.

But Wednesday shows no obvious signs of pulling away from the smell. The plate gets pushed away instead. “I’m fine. Do not obsess about pointless things.”

“C’mon, I know you like your pizza cold and probably with a little freeze burn like the loveable weirdo you are, but this is the best I could get it in like 2 minutes. Doesn’t it look cold, and uninviting, but oh-so delicious? Oooh,” Enid sings, sashaying the plate in Wednesday’s face until she cringes.

Pinching the plate in between her fingers, she pulls it down so their gazes can connect. “Will you stop waving this in my face if I take it from you?”

“If you eat it, then yes. The pepperoni one is yours too if you want. It’s probs a little warm though.”

Wednesday pouts (but not really because she always says that it’s not a pout— but what is it if it’s not??) but acquiesces to the one cheese slice, abandoning the cup of (probably) complete sake or vodka in her hand, and pushes the plate back in Enid’s space. Taking it as a sign that she doesn’t want the other slice, Enid happily accepts its rejection and reclaims the slice as her own.

Enid makes a show of Wednesday’s hesitance as the psychic takes an unwilling bite of the cheese slice, establishing as intense of a stare as she could. It’s only when Wednesday gives in and proceeds to chew that she gives Wednesday her winning smile.

Pulling away then to give the other girl space to eat, Enid starts on the last slice, careful not to somehow stain the sleeve of Wednesday’s shirt at the same time. The aroma of melted cheese and oily pepperoni has long since disappeared, chilled from the time passed since its trip to the microwave, but it still looks appetizing for anyone as drunk as her.

It doesn’t take long before the food disappears, leaving them not quite full but satisfied still. The sound of a warm breeze and the clicking of crickets fill the air. Somehow, it’s exorbitantly less awkward than the silence with Ajax fifteen or something minutes ago. Despite its simplicity, everything about it is just… good.

Enid takes one quick look out towards the wilderness. Naturally, trees spawn and live around the property but she finds it somewhat amazing that it’s still bare enough that it gives her an almost clear view of the lake just beyond and down the stone path. If not for the moon, the body of water would be shrouded in black and impossible to see, but as it is, the moon reflects off of it like a mirror to prove that it exists in the first place.

For a second, she thinks about pitching the idea of going down there—Wednesday would probably love how dark it is—before she turns to the girl. It seems Wednesday has taken to mirroring her too, eyes lingering on the darkness as they soak into the simple silence together.

Enid finds herself staring at how Wednesday’s leisure eyes admire the unknown, how even though her eyes don’t smile, Enid knows she’s content because it’s somehow at home on her face. Her eyes drag down to the slope of Wednesday’s nose, then to where the curve of where her smile would be.

Enid pauses, pulling back. Swallowing, she thinks that she really needs that half cup Yoko promised right now, or some kind of thing to do to distract her thoughts from drunk thoughts.

She puts the plate down and perches as best as she can without falling forward. The stone under her feet serves at barely a decent height to help the jump as she pushes herself upwards. The best stone doesn’t give her a lot of grip though, as her feet struggle to push up—or maybe the last drink was finally getting to her.

The stone is cool to the touch which is nice, but it’s a little uncomfortable truthfully. With the way her skirt is and how unevenly she’s sat on it, parts of the sequins tug and dig into her thigh. She’s trying really hard not to accidentally flash a ghost while trying to fix her skirt and it’s not really going her way.

(Alright, so no one said she was going to be the most graceful when she’s tipsy, okay? Whatever!)

“You’re going to fall,” Wednesday warns matter-of-factly.

Looking behind her, Enid actually hadn’t realized that the patio was at least half a floor up. It’s at least an 8 foot fall, maybe more since her mind is starting to get a little cloudy again from the alcohol. The ground below looks a black and gray platform of jagged river rocks. Distantly, Enid thinks that that can’t be the most sane place to put it in case someone falls on it and splits their sku— oh, yeah, that’s a scary thought actually. But it should be fine… right?

“I won’t fall,” Enid says evenly.

Wednesday observes her with scrutiny, searching and ignoring the second part of what she said. “You are. You are a werewolf but you are not indestructable, Enid. You tripped walking across the patio.”

“How do you know that? You weren’t even looking,” Enid angles herself toward Wednesday, slipping slightly as she uses her hand to pad the hint of a near fall. “I could have just been dancing to the music inside.”

“It’s not your preferred genre of music,” Wednesday mumbles. “You weren’t in rhythm, which proves my point regardless.”

Enid pouts, letting out a playful tone. “I’ll be careful then.” Wednesday only sighs at her stubbornness, watching with careful eyes as Enid shifts around, going back to pulling on her skirt to try and fix it so that the sequins don’t dig into her thigh as awkwardly.

When it takes more than two seconds, Now-Enid curses past-Enid out for not thinking ahead of situations like this. Why didn’t she just wear something without sequins? Or shorts? Shorts are good. Shorts are versatile. They’re cute! Hello? Why didn’t past-her think of that! It’s so embarrassing the way she’s giving ‘desperate!’ and unattractive and uncomfortable. Totally not a cute look.

Leaning back, Enid is almost totally sure that she’s got it when Wednesday raises her voice to say something but doesn’t get to finish it.

Wednesday starts with the first sound of her name, but Enid doesn’t even realize something is happening until she feels herself fall backward. Her heart drops before her mind does, feeling for a moment like her brain has reset itself into a blank slate.

The first thing that runs through her mind is “oh fuck I’m going to die here and someone is gonna think it’s Wednesday’s fault— oh damn, her record only got expunged like three years ago.” For a split second, she can almost imagine herself with her skull split open on the ground and her mind spirals into a million different things before she realizes it’s all over.

The shortly awaited pain never comes and she thinks that death might actually be painless after all.

Rather, everything feels numb. Maybe that’s a sign that she died a quick death. From the way her stomach dropped so quickly to hell, Enid thinks it probably took her entire spirit with it and did her a favor by liquidating her entire body of sensation.

But a part of her realizes she’s not actually dead just yet from the way she’s slanted backwards and a shaking grip that holds her weight up.

When Enid opens her eyes, her vision is dizzying. She realizes very quickly that she hasn’t changed the trajectory of anyone’s life just yet, though she probably almost did. The Mother moon has the grace to still send its glimmer down on her part of the world, reminding her that the goddess is still watching.

Finally, she looks in front of her. A perfect view of Wednesday’s minute panic captivates and Enid spends the second staring back into fearful eyes.

One delicate hand has a grasp on the sleeve of Enid’s left forearm while the other has a demanding grip on the torso of her shirt. It isn’t lost on Enid that she wrapped one leg around Wednesday, who moved toward her to help, out of panic too. If anyone looks, Enid reckons the shock wouldn’t die fast enough for them to explain.

Wednesday doesn’t waste a second hauling her forward to sit upright. Enid can only laugh through the shock.

“Oh fuck,” Enid finally verbalizes, finally slumping forward. “Oh fuck. That was so scary.”

Wednesday lets out a slow breath. “You’re an ignoramus.” Wednesday looks up at her with as much of a calm tone as she can handle. Enid can still hear in her voice the way she’s trying to temper the nerves under her skin. “I told you that you would fall.”

“Yeah,” Enid can only say, moving closer to Wednesday with shaky hands. Her forehead meets the bone of Wednesday’s shoulder as her arms fall in between the gaps under her arms. “Yeah, you did.”

“What would you do if I wasn’t here to catch you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t you,” Enid laughs breathlessly. Her head pounds from the air coming in and out, forcing her adrenaline to die down a little faster. After some time passes, Wednesday moves to leave the space between her legs but Enid doesn’t want to let go. “Just… a second, please. Ugh. I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

“If this shirt has even a speck of your pepperoni spittle, I’ll have to push you off myself,” Wednesday says.

Enid gives a half-hearted chuckle. “No, you won’t.”

As if she’s right, Wednesday doesn’t say anything. They stay there for far longer than a second. Longer than a few minutes too probably.

Enid is glad for it. She hopes Wednesday is too. Because while she’s always open to skinship, they survive on arm hooks and momentary hand or wrist-holding now, as she’s been made much more aware of since Wednesday’s hesitance to touch her the other day.

She, too, misses the touches she used to share with Wednesday. Though her forwardness in skinship isn’t a thing of the past yet, even she’s aware of how intimate it is. Still, it’s not something she can do much more now without implication and especially since she has a girlfriend she loves, which oh wow fuck, she hasn’t messaged her at all today.

At the back of her mind, something is lulling her towards a laziness created only by the haze of steady drinking. Enid tells herself she’ll do that later before getting ready for bed. Right now, she and Wednesday are sharing the first real hug they’ve had in… probably also two years? Two and a half now maybe.

She doesn’t even think they’ve even shared a hug since the last day at Nevermore. Honestly she… kind of misses how the hugs felt like two perfect puzzle pieces, how easily they fit, and how snug it felt.

This feels safe—comfortable—like their first time and the times after that. It feels like how it felt when she had saved Wednesday from Tyler the second time, or when the stalker had been exorcised back to the timeline they came from, and Wednesday had promised her something in a different language. Even when she didn’t know what was said, everything felt right in moments like this ever since.

A distant chorus of laughter erupts from inside the cabin, barely a reminder that everyone is still inside, like there’s nothing wrong in the world. Enid smiles at the sound of their youth.

At the same time, the serenity and the comfort lures her to sleep. (Also totally not because of the way her mind is still spinning from the alcohol, the adrenaline, and the hyperventilation, but golly is she tired.)

Vaguely, she thinks she hears Wednesday say something.

In the quietude of Enid’s sleep-addled mind, it sounds like a melody. The words don’t mean anything when she’s so far along in her near slumber and she can’t help but burrow closer. A content sigh leaves her lips.

A thought of their conversation strikes again but she doesn’t have the time to think about it. Sleep begs to take over, aided by the vague feeling of a hand brushing against her back, successfully pushing any thought of last night’s conversation out of her mind’s short reaching orbit.

The last thing she remembers before drifting off into a dreamscape is the smell of old books and fading roses, the texture of soft cotton under her fingertips, and then the whisper of Wednesday in her ears. If she tries, she thinks she might hear Wednesday’s steady heartbeat too.

Without realizing it, she thinks of Wednesday’s sound as she falls asleep.

—

August 16

When Enid comes back to the real world, there’s a rawness in her throat that could only be explained by the amount of alcohol consumed. It takes… some time for her mouth to water enough that she can breathe normally without coughing and rattling her own thoughts and lethargy.

Then, when she clenches her hand ever so slightly, she can feel the fabric of Wednesday’s simple cardigan sweater under her fingertips and things just feel okay after all. It’s a comfort that makes her press herself deeper into… something? But Enid realizes quite quickly that it’s not Wednesday.

When Enid finally clues into her senses, everything else feels… not the same. Where there used to be a tempered wind on her skin and a low rumble of music in the background, there’s a coolness and silence instead.

At this, she finally opens her eyes and discovers it’s dark as shit and not the kind that you would expect at nighttime. There’s not even the dim glimmer of the patio light or the glow from the moon embracing her. No view of an open patio door where there should be.

The first few seconds of consciousness is spent figuring out that she’s staring at the wooden ceiling of the cabin. From there, it’s pretty obvious that she’s laying in a bed because of the pillow supporting her head and a blanket lazily covering everything below the hip.

Just as easily as she comes to that conclusion, she realizes she doesn’t even remember getting into bed either.

How did she even get here? The last thing she remembers vividly is Wednesday saving her from falling, the adrenaline in both their veins… Then, not more than a minute later, she laid her head on Wednesday's shoulder and she was out like a light.

Or, um, she hopes she was out like a light. She seriously would not survive the embarrassment if she said something, like, weird. (Or implicating, or something.)

Gosh, she really, really hopes not.

Speaking of which, where is Wednesday now? Enid wonders as she turns her thoughts towards the other girl suddenly. 

Looking to her right through half open eyes, there’s empty space. It’s mostly neat except for the part where the blanket has come undone because of Enid’s tossing and turning. That alone tells her that Wednesday might not have even spent the night in the bed. That only means that a) Wednesday slept on the floor, b) she didn’t even sleep in the same room, or c) possibly both.

That doesn’t really sit well with her at all.

Her eyes roam across her surroundings. The small walk-in closet by the entrance is closed shut, no light, dead, like the traces of existing are bare.

But the remnants of her makeup kit from a rushed touch-up and Wednesday’s laptop—surprising, right?—sitting closed on the vanity shake those groggy thoughts away. That tells her perfectly that she’s in the right room at least. So if all their things were in the same room, Enid couldn’t imagine where else Wednesday would stay.

“Wednesday?” Enid calls out in a groggy, dead-for-a-gajillion-years voice, hoping by some chance that she’ll see the loose strands of the other girl’s hair pop up at the foot of the bed. Or even better, her responding back.

She doesn’t. There’s not even a sound of recognition for the call.

Suddenly, Enid hoists herself up, muscles aching. The room spins with the aggression of a hangover finally making itself known and draining her minimal effort. Almost immediately, she is tempted to change her mind about getting up because of it but curiosity killed the cat and she’s really curious about where Wednesday is.

Judging by the birds chirping outside and the light peeking over the edges of the curtain, it’s probably morning. There’s no clock in the room, digital or otherwise, and she has no frickin’ idea where her phone is either to tell the time. Whatever time it is, it’s ‘get-the-fuck-up’ o’clock due to the fact that Wednesday isn’t in the room and that means she’s up and about already.

(Plus, she feels icky all over. There’s that feeling she gets whenever she forgets to brush her teeth, which is even worse when she imagines the alcohol coating her mouth. Bleck.)

When she looks over her shoulder, she sees that she’s wrapped herself in the black cardigan that Wednesday was wearing last night. It smells just like her, she realizes, catching the notes of dead roses in it. The arm is hanging just over her shoulder while the rest of it hangs off of her as if it were a substitute for the warmth of something else.

Enid only pauses at the fact that she has it in her possession as though it belonged to her. She isn’t sure why she’d have it. She could guess why but is there a point when the smell is so distinctly Wednesday? It explains why she was thrown off by her surroundings at least.

Enid gets up to the restroom, swinging her legs over the edge and cursing as she trips on an awkwardly placed trash bin at the foot of her side of the bed. The can clatters as it falls and Enid lets out a groan at the reverberating sound.

Eventually, she finds that her toothbrush is already on the sink counter of the restroom and makes quick work of cleaning her teeth. For a fleeting second, she considers skipping a shower until she realizes she hasn’t bathed since the Addams manor. Not to mention the aftermath of a drink fest with the others have resulted in a bit of a smell clinging. Big ew.

Enid spends her time in the shower basking in its warmth and embarrassingly forgetting to bring her shampoo and conditioner in. (Honestly, she could not be more thankful that Wednesday was not there or would not walk into the room when she took a half-naked trip to her suitcase for said items.)

A complete shower later, the hangover has thankfully reduced considerably and she’s just about ready to leave. She suits up in a new very simple outfit of loose jogger shorts and sleeveless spaghetti strap top, layered with a black hoodie of her college insignia on it.

When Enid heads outside the room, she can’t say the same about the low light for the second floor with Bianca’s half of the balcony uncovered from the unrelenting sunlight. At the very least, her side of the second floor is just dark enough that it’d be no issue for her to prepare for the worst of it. If not for that, it would have been a painful flashbang for a hangover sufferer, or a vampire.

(RIP Yoko. She’ll bring flowers to the funeral.)

To her right, she peers over the second floor opening that monitors the living room through the balustrade. Though the curtains cover the windows decently, they do little to block out the rest of the living room area due to the overarching windows, shining just barely enough to brighten the room.

Besides that, it’s empty. Mostly… when you set aside the part where Kent and Ajax are splayed across the living sofas with their feet practically in each other’s mouth anyway. (And in Kent’s case, literally.) Enid can tell who was obviously too plastered to go back to their bedrooms and who cared enough to get a comfortable night’s sleep from that.

Enid lets out a small laugh at the sight and miraculously spots her phone teetering on the edge of the coffee table. Slowly, she takes steps down to the first floor with her hoodie sheltering most of her exposure to the sunrays coming downstairs.

Without much effort, she reaches the end of the stairs. The dumb ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ sign that was hung last night has fallen to the floor, much to Enid’s amusement, but she doesn’t do anything about it except kick it closer to the wall. She grabs her phone from its place on the living room table instead and taps it to find the image of a dead battery glaring back at her.

As disappointing as it is, Enid pockets the phone in her hoodie’s pouch and redirects her sights elsewhere with a sigh. With luck, she might find Wednesday in the kitchen to burn some time. What better way to kill her boredom and her thirst if both are in the same spot?

So without further thought, she turns toward the kitchen to start that pursuit. It’s so much brighter here that Enid has to blink a few times before she can really open her eyes. She knows someone is there from the way she can hear a wrapper crinkling and quiet chewing.

Unfortunately, who she finds isn’t Wednesday again but Bianca lazily eating a cereal bar while scrolling through her phone at the island table.

“Good morning?” Enid says, walking in and pulling a cup out of one of the cupboards.

The siren girl looks up then and clicks the home button on her phone. “Morning. You’re the first of the bunch. Pizza’s in the fridge. Finders keepers on whatever’s left.”

Nodding, Enid fills the cup and downs it fully. Feeling the cold liquid go down her throat doesn’t help too much on what’s left of her headache, but it sure as hell beats the thirst. When she turns to look toward Bianca, she takes a subtle look around the kitchen. “How is your head not killing you?”

“I know how to pace myself, unlike some people.” Bianca gives an obvious look over her shoulder towards the general area of the boys. “And I drink to socialize, not to get fucked up.”

Enid lets out a small laugh out of sympathy because, yeah, she gets it. “Interesting choice of breakfast, by the way. Why didn’t you just finish off the pizza?”

“I don’t do greasy food in the morning.” Bianca says.

“Since when?”

“Just a preference. But beggars can’t be choosers. It brings out the college kid in me, doesn’t it?” Bianca says. “Plus any dollar I save is another dollar I keep in my savings. Thank fucking God Yoko and Wednesday footed most of the renting cost.”

Enid nods slowly before she realizes the last part of what Bianca just said. A few seconds pass and Enid is totally sure she looks like an owl with how wide her eyes get. “Okay, I’m not that surprised about Yoko but Wednesday helped pay for it? Since when?”

Bianca sends her a look of odd confusion. “Since we were having a hard time getting the place? What, did you think I just somehow pulled an extra $800 out of nowhere for a 2.5-floor cabin that accommodates more than one outcast type? I am not that generous.”

Ahh… Enid remembered something about that a few weeks ago. Most of the places they looked at didn’t really accommodate more than one outcast type, if at all. And while they individually didn’t need anything that much different than a normie, it would be nice to know if there were anti-stoning features for gorgons, or soaking areas for sirens, or black-out spots for vampires.

This place was the only one that collectively served all of them best—from the curtains on the mirrors to the low light in most areas around the house besides the balcony—but it was outside of their range depending on the contribution. After a few days passed, they were able to get it for a week with a few arrangements. Enid didn’t remember if Bianca ever said what those arrangements were and how she covered the price.

“I… I didn’t think about that. I thought you were just… very convincing.” Enid says slowly.

“That’s cute,” Bianca says in the teasing tone she usually carries. “Girl, why do you think I wasn’t surprised you pulled up with Princess Darkness herself?”

“Well… I just…” Enid stammers. “I thought one of the others told you… somehow.”

An amused smirk lands on the edge of Bianca’s mouth, wagging a finger at her. “Yeah. Okay, Enid.”

At that, Enid purses her lips and then squints, thinking back at the timeline drawn in her head. “Wait so if it was during that time… that was like two or three weeks before the trip.”

“Oh yeah, I guess so, huh?” Bianca says casually, chewing the last of her cereal bar before throwing the wrapper into the trash under the sink. “That important?”

No. Yes. Maybe?

Because if Enid thinks a little more about it, she realizes that this is almost around the time when Wednesday had bought those plane tickets for her. And if Bianca knew, then it was possible that everyone else did too. Which, honestly would explain why no one was surprised that Wednesday was there despite not being part of their planning group chat (not that she would care to say anything in it).

So… Wednesday had planned to go ever since then? How was she even sure she would clear her schedule before their trip? If so, what the heck, Wednesday? Why didn’t she just say something?

…But maybe she didn’t know, and she was just helping with booking. Whatever was on her schedule didn’t seem so quick to finish or easy to clear. And Wednesday seemed really tired the day Enid arrived at the Addams Family Manor. If that was it, then why would she cough up that much money if she might not have even gone? Like it was just pocket change?

(Okay, she’d be a liar if she didn’t kind of realize that was a stupid question to ask when the other girl came from old money and already dropped almost a thousand just to fly her over.)

“No,” Enid swallows, trying not to think of the words she heard from Wednesday a few sleeps ago. “Have you seen Wednesday this morning?”

“Like I said, you’re the first of the bunch.”

“Oh,” Enid says simply.

In the wake of the shortest sentence known to man, the birds chirp louder. The fridge lets out a droning hum. Ajax’s snores from the living room cut through like a chainsaw. Somewhere in the distance, Enid almost swears she hears a deer croak and another bleat at the same time.

If the silence is awkward, neither of them say anything.

Enid gives it about a minute of her nails tapping the granite countertop and her insides winding before she decides her impatience just won’t do. Her joints even ache in the way that her bones do when her wolf wants out, like it’s unable to bide its time for the full moon that’s coming just a few mere days away. The call of the moon aches too, but her wolf wants to do something more. Get the blood flowing, the muscles pushing. Probably? (Definitely not to look for Wednesday.)

“I’m gonna go take a walk and look for a place to wolf out later or something.”

“Have fun, I guess.” Bianca shakes her head and shrugs before letting herself get reabsorbed to her phone.

With that, Enid doesn’t waste too much time going back upstairs to plug her own phone in to get a few percentages in first. Finding a place to wolf out isn’t hard, but it’s finding a place that will feel comfortable that might not be as easy, especially when you’re coming off of a hangover. But if she’s going to be doing that, then she’s going to need more water for the road.

So the next order of action was finding the water bottle she brought with her.

After searching in the bedroom for the big and ugly thing, the water bottle isn’t anywhere to be seen. Now that she really thinks about it… did she even bring it inside? 

It’s not a small water bottle; it’s an almost blindingly highlight yellow color but it holds about half a gallon… so it’s practically impossible to miss.

But that’s the thing: She doesn’t remember lugging in that big and ugly thing. She only remembers barging into the cabin, embarrassing herself by almost throwing herself through the door, and being excited to see everyone again.

Going down the stairs again, she cuts through the kitchen and towards the door to the side of the cabin, pointing towards the road. Already, Enid doesn’t really know what she’s going to do if the water bottle does happen to be in the car. It’s not like she could just break in or pick the lock. (And no, she did not ever get around to learning how to lock pick like she said she would to Wednesday all those years ago anyway.)

Even so, she takes her steps down the short steps and finds that Wednesday’s car is gone. Where there should be an old black Bentley is just a huge chunk of space. No sense of Wednesday’s car ever existing remains in its place.

Dumbstruck, Enid stands there for about another minute before backing up towards the stairs again and entering the outside door going into the kitchen. At a loss, she’s now wondering where the other girl could have gone.

Could it be possible that someone just… stole the car?

No, no, the likelihood of that is so low. There’s one other cabin across the lake but it’s pretty much dead silence over there, and there wasn’t another cabin or home for at least another mile. Wednesday is already missing anyway, and who in their right mind would steal from an Addams?

But that still doesn’t answer the question. Where could Wednesday have gone? And with her car no less?

The sound of her entering gets Bianca’s attention as the girl looks up and squints at her inquisitively. “I thought you were going on a walk?”

Enid leans against the door for a second and shrugs. “I was… kind of. I forgot my water bottle in Wednesday’s car and it’s not there.”

“You probably brought it in then. Checked your room yet?”

“No, I mean, Wednesday’s car isn’t here,” Enid points behind her.

“Okay, then she’s probably just being her usual weirdo self and out in the woods by herself like she always is.”

“With her car?”

Bianca shrugs. “I don’t know? I’m not a Wednesday expert. There’s a ton of things she could be doing.”

Okay, true. Wednesday has the heart of an adventurer whenever it serves her best. Enid still remembers all the times when Wednesday would disappear randomly during school hours and Outreach days to go exploring or investigating her latest case. So… she’s probably just… excited about exploring a new place or something.

In new places like this, Enid knows that Wednesday is prone to search for new material for her book even if the land looks all the same to Enid. Wednesday always sees something Enid doesn’t, and sometimes it’s the other way around. But that’s probably why they work, don’t they?

But all that knowledge doesn’t stop Enid from biting the inside of her cheek and speaking with a certain edge in her voice. “Yeah, I guess.”

“If it’s bothering you so much, just call her,” Bianca points out.

Shrugging helplessly, a long line forms on her own lips. “No, you’re right. She’s probably just doing her own thing.”

Bianca takes out her earbuds, looking sympathetic. “I just started a new podcast if you want to listen in.”

A half-smile sits upon Enid’s lips. Regardless of whether the smile meant ‘no thanks’ or ‘sure, let’s do it’, Bianca plays the podcast from the beginning. Nothing else is said between them for the rest of the two minutes that Enid stands there as a podcast about the hidden impact of Outcasts during the Second World War plays.

The introduction paints a pretty cool picture of a guy named Arthur A. Ancel, a shapeshifter that lived various lives behind enemy lines. To this day, no one knows who Arthur is or what he looks like, if he’s still alive or if Arthur A. Ancel was his real name. The only thing that tied his identities to him was the way he wrote the “A” in his signature—large, obnoxious, and hard to replicate with a precise finger smudge dragged through an overflow of ink.

Everything seems fine until Bianca clicks her tongue in annoyance. The siren pauses the podcast and shoots Enid a look that tells her she’s not happy. Exasperated, really.

A hand shoots to Enid’s leg, and only then does she realize she’s been shaking the whole table with it. “Relax, it’s not going to kill you being away from Wednesday for a bit. But if you’re that desperate, throw yourself in the lake and pretend to drown; she’ll probably appear out of thin air and ‘White Knight’ you or some shit.”

“That’s not helpful at all,” Enid frowns and straightens up, shifting her weight. “And I'm not desperate. I’m just… I dunno, a little jittery.”

Bianca doesn’t believe her from the way her eyebrow goes up. “Christ, how have you survived so far without her? You couldn’t possibly believe that Wednesday would leave you here alone, would you? At times like this, I almost admire how dense you are.”

Enid pretends that she didn’t hear the first part. Or well, actually, it’s just the last part that has her attention much more. “What’s that supposed to mean? What part?”

“It means what it means.” Without giving Enid the chance to ask her to elaborate, Bianca points at the stool in front of her like a scolding mother would. “Now sit down and listen, or take the walk you said you would. Wake up the others. Eat. I don’t know, but you need a distraction before you drive yourself up the wall and me along with it. And no leg shaking.”

Enid stops and mutters an apology. She backs up, relenting to Bianca’s suggestion. Or, at least to one of them.

This time, she sits at the dining table just a few feet away instead so that if her leg shows her impatience again, it won’t bother Bianca as much. It helps, but it doesn’t last more than maybe a minute before her mind drifts off.

On any other day, Enid would be eating this podcast up but no matter how much Enid tries to focus on the topic, she can’t put to rest her wonder about where Wednesday had gone.

She isn’t really sure why she’s so… off about the whole thing at all. It’s not as if Wednesday has never been out of her sight. They literally live hundreds of miles away from each other!

Enid thinks maybe her mind is just regressing. Back to when they used to live together, back to when they’d share the same space and Enid could always count on seeing Wednesday on the other side of the room, back to when Enid used to wake up to small handwritten notes left behind to ease her worries about Wednesday’s stupid reckless escapades.

(Ugh, whatever!)

It doesn’t help that some of the things Bianca said causes a part of her mind to wander too. Enid knows she’s dense sometimes. It’s hard for her to think that everyone isn't a little dense somewhere. Like, c’mon, it’s not like everyone is aware of everything, right? But why would she say that when talking about Wednesday? What could Enid actually be missing about her? Surely not about… the thing, right? No, that couldn’t be.

When Enid snaps back to reality, time eventually grazes 9AM, signaled by Bianca’s alarm. She makes it about 10 minutes into the podcast when the sound of the doorknob jostling, followed by an aromatic smell, puts a crack in her brittle attention.

When the doorknob jiggles open, Eugene’s taller frame towers into the kitchen. Now about 5 feet 9 inches in height, he stands almost half a foot taller than Bianca and Enid (and substantially taller than Wednesday). He’s wearing what looks to be simple camping gear with the orange top vest he’s wearing. A swipe of something black and sooty crosses over his cheek, making it a bit of a curiosity in where he just came from.

“Hey! I’m glad you girls are awake. Erm, could you help me outside for a bit?”

Enid shares a look with Bianca before the siren responds. “What happened?”

“Yeah, if you’re asking for help to bring in any bug species, you’re on your own, Eugene!” Enid says.

“Don’t be silly, all the coolest bugs come out at night!” Eugene says. “It’s just some stuff in the car. I can’t carry it all in and Wednesday doesn’t want to help.”

At the mention of Wednesday, Enid’s ears almost instantly perk up. “You went somewhere with Wednesday?”

“Yeah, she was just gonna sneak off somewhere before I caught her. Things happened from there,” Eugene nods.

“If your definition of ‘things happened’ is that you followed me to the car without my accord, then yes, ‘things happened,’” someone deadpans from behind Eugene. The youngest yet tallest of their group moves to reveal the one and only Wednesday Addams, holding a brown paper bag and a cup holder with two cups of what is very likely to be coffee.

“Yeah, that!” Eugene smiles cheekily. His mood shifts to suspicion when he looks at what’s in Wednesday’s hands. “Did you take out two cups out of the cupholder on purpose?”

“They were not mine. Ergo, their removal.”

“But you could have at least brought them in! Now it’s an extra trip just for two cups!” Eugene whines.

“Okay, bee boy. Sorry for your loss, but let’s go get your shit from the car,” Bianca says before grabbing the back of Eugene’s collar and pulling him out the door. “That’ll give them 2 minutes tops to finish whatever sappy shit they’re about to pull.”

Enid makes a face at Bianca, but it’s not as though she would have seen it with her back turned as she and Eugene disappear. Eugene’s sigh could be heard just before they got out of earshot. With the two of them alone, her eyes land easily on Wednesday.

Undisturbed by Eugene’s whining, Wednesday heads straight for the dining table where Enid is at and sets the paper bag in front of her. As soon as it’s there, she can feel her mouth drooling and she knows that smell as well as anyone who’s worked in a diner. It smells vaguely of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, maybe a bit of hash browns too. But the shape doesn’t look normal, like it’s got a second or third box within it.

Even though Enid has her suspicions, she still asks. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast.” Wednesday says simply and puts one cup of coffee in front of Enid before sitting down herself and sipping her own, no doubt a coffee with four shots of espresso. “For you.”

“You got me coffee and breakfast?”

Wednesday props her eyebrow up with a hint of sarcasm. Enid would be offended if she didn’t practically see a speech bubble above her head that says “Is that even a question?” And yet, she says nothing as Enid reaches in for the first to-go box and opens it. Exactly as she expected. Eggs, toast, pancakes, and lots and lots of bacon and sausage.

Ooh, her stomach was calling for paradise.

“Something more authentic would have better suited the occasion, but the lack of ingredients would make the attempt pitiful and I don’t do pitiful,” Wednesday says with disdain but then pauses for a second before pulling out a small box from her coat to slide towards her.

It’s not super obvious what it is until Enid picks it up and the rattling of pills reach her ears. And if it isn’t obvious what it is yet, the box labels itself in decently sized print. Enid reads it in her head at the same time as does out loud. “Aspirin?”

At this point, it’s not hard for Enid to guess why she must have gone. Enid stares at the box before looking back at Wednesday in surprise. “Is that why you left so early in the morning?”

“I assumed it would be appreciated, considering last night,” Wednesday says, bringing her cup to her lips and watching Enid carefully. “I wasn’t sure what was best and went by Eugene’s recommendation.”

“This is fine. Thanks,” Enid says, taking a tablet out of its packaging. Swallowing it dry isn’t particularly her strong suit though so she takes another trip to the sink to refill her cup. Her eyes shift around the sink. Even when the glass is half full, way more than enough for one pill, Enid gives herself a second to think of the words coming out her mouth. “Speaking of… what happened last night, y’know, after I knocked out?”

“The simplest answer is that you slept.”

“C’mon, Wednesday,” Enid says, rolling her eyes before swallowing the pill and the water together, and turning back towards her. “Give me something here.”

“I brought you to bed. What more are you looking for?”

Enid makes it back to her seat. “Did I do or say anything weird?”

Wednesday seems a little interested by the question and pauses to think. Nonetheless the answer that comes out of her mouth is, “I suppose you did have a special attachment to my cardigan.”

Enid laughs awkwardly at that, feeling embarrassment creep up to her neck. “Yeah…”

“You whined until I let you have it.” Enid could almost hear the smirk in the way Wednesday says it. “Like a newborn, or a pup.”

If her face isn’t flushed with embarrassment as well at this point, Enid’s totally sure that it is now. “…sorry.”

Just then, there’s a shuffle from behind Enid, likely meaning that one of the boys in the living room has woken up. Judging by the fact that Ajax is still snoring his life away, Enid has to guess it’s Kent.

“Super morning, Enid, Wednesday. Either of you got any mouthwash? The taste in my mouth is totally gnarly.”

Enid shakes her head and repeats Kent’s greeting, hiding the bottom half of her face with her hand, because she knows exactly why that is. One can only expect it to be that way when Ajax’s foot was quite literally in Kent’s mouth probably not more than a few minutes ago. Wednesday doesn’t answer.

Kent only makes a loud noise at what’s on the table, forgetting the previous topic entirely. “Oh man, is that breakfast? I’m so friggin’ hungry,” Kent says when he gets closer. “Bro, that smells so good.”

“And not for you,” Wednesday slaps her hand on the opening of the bag and pulls it towards herself just as Kent reaches for the bag. “You touch it, you die.”

“Wha? You couldn’t possibly eat all that by yourself! Look at these portions!”

“My capability to eat large quantities is irrelevant,” Wednesday eyes him warningly. “The threat stands.”

Kent looks at Enid for back up, like he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. Enid shrugs. “I’m not the one who bought it.”

Like one big comedy, Eugene and Bianca come back with brown paper bags themselves. Eugene, in particular, is trying to balance multiple of them in his arms while Bianca does her work in carrying a cup holder of 4 cups in one hand and a separate cup in her other. Enid knows perfectly well what might be in those bags at this point and so must Kent.

He doesn’t stop his hollering until he’s got a box of the same breakfast (with much less meat) in his lap, but even then he’s still loud enough just talking that Enid wouldn’t be surprised if it woke up the rest of the sleeping recipients of the house.

And it does wake them up, because Divina yells from above twenty seconds later, “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you, Kent!” The chainsaw snoring it up in the living room stops because of Divina yelling, too.

“See, this is why I chose to go to a different school from all of you,” Bianca says to Kent.

“It wasn’t because of your scholarship?”

At this, Wednesday just sneers at all the obnoxious noise while Enid laughs.