Chapter Text
“Hey, Wens.” Parker grins at her, that same impish grin that always promised the best kind of trouble.
“Parker.” She offers a smile of her own, turning to the girl, “What are you planning?”
The taller girl gasps in mock-offense. “Me? Planning anything? I’m offended, Wendy.”
Wednesday cocks an eyebrow, a silent question.
“…Ok fine. I was wondering if you would help me dye my tips again?” Parker holds out a tub of hair dye to the goth.
Bright purple.
The Addams looked at her friend, taking in the jaggedly spiked hair, dark eyeliner, and piercings that she’d gotten with her.
A far cry from the girl she’d been before, who’d been forced into a mould by her birthgiver.
More confident, happier.
“Sure.”
She enjoys helping her friend foray into the alternative culture she seems to thrive in.
She enjoys seeing that bright smile.
Parker sits in her bathtub, cross-legged, with Wednesday behind her.
The shorter girl squeezes some of the dye out, but instead of neon purple, it comes out a deep red.
Blood red.
Suddenly, iron floods her senses, the viscous liquid dripping from her palms into the tub.
“What-” Wednesday starts, before Parker’s head twists backwards with a wet crunch, to greet her with a sickening approximation of a smile pulling back her lips.
It’s too wide, and too bright, and too malicious-
It isn’t Parker. It can’t be.
Her friend has a smile that could warm her cold, desiccated heart on even the worst days.
Not one that makes her skin crawl with uneasiness, and her skin heat up in discomfort.
“This is your fault. You failed to save me.” With those words, ‘Parker’ crumples down into a pile of bones at the bottom of the tub and it starts to fill rapidly with blood.
Warm, cloyingly sweet-smelling blood.
She’s salivating at it, even as she thrashes around in the liquid, even as it reaches further above her, and she can’t breathe-
The goth goes fully under, and all she can see is the red surrounding her, soaking her clothes, weighing her down, filling her mouth.
She’s no longer in a tub, but suspended in the liquid life, seeing no end to it in any direction.
Until from the corner of her eye, she spots two familiar glowing pits.
The creature is back, its antlers bloody, it’s maw gaping.
The chasms of its eyes widen in seeming recognition, turning to face Wednesday fully.
It drops a bloodied arm at her feet.
And she screams.
“-nesday!” Her eyes snap open suddenly, jolting her body upright with sudden vigour.
Where is she?
She looks around frantically, finding herself in her dorm room, in her bed, rather than the cold wetness of the bloody bathtub.
Bianca Barclay is by her side.
“Bianca.” Shit. She just accidentally first-named her. Without permission-
The siren smiles softly, scanning the Addams for…something, before responding in kind.
“Wednesday.”
Her name sounds positively delicious coming from Bar-from Bianca’s mouth.
She takes a second to savour it, before the memories come back, and she’s reminded of what just occurred.
“Wednesday, what the fuck?”
“Rowan. He’s dead.” Wednesday says, unnecessarily, and Bianca slumps in her chair slightly.
“Yeah.” Bianca sighs.
The burning under her skin is awful, and against her better judgement she reaches out to grasp her roommate’s hand, letting the siren’s glassy scales cool her down.
Icy blue eyes widen at the contact, but she doesn’t make any effort to move, instead letting out a weak chuckle.
“What are we going to do, Addams?” Her voice wavers.
It makes sense, honestly.
A reasonable reaction to watching a horrific murder, especially of someone she’d known.
“We go to Weems.” Wednesday finds herself saying, even if she herself is doubtful of her choice.
The siren looks equally skeptical. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
The goth nods, “She’ll know what to do.” before letting go of Bianca’s hand and turning to Thing with a cocked eyebrow. “Did you bring the arm?”
The hand pulls it out from Wednesday’s bag and pushes it onto the bed.
Wednesday lets out a breath, before fully standing up.
She wobbles slightly, steadying herself with a wince.
“I’ve really got to stop falling unconscious in your arms, Barclay.” She tries for humour, even as it falls flat.
A wry smile makes its way onto the siren’s lips. “Hey, don’t worry, most people would love to fall into my arms.”
The Addams lets out a snort. “I’m sure.” She takes the arm in her hands, wrapping it in an old scarf she hadn’t worn in months. “I suppose I should count myself lucky?”
Bianca grins devilishly, “You definitely should.”
Wednesday fights down the smirk threatening to make its way onto her face. “Well then, may I have the honour of escorting you to Principal Weems’s office?”
She extends an arm out like a gentleman-to commit to the bit, and definitely not because she wanted to touch the siren again.
Her roommate looks at her, raising an eyebrow, before taking the offered arm and interlocking it with hers.
“You may.”
Needless to say, Principal Weems was not amused to see Wednesday in her office.
“Miss Addams. What have you done?” She pinches the bridge of her nose as she eyes the suspiciously-arm-shaped package in Wednesday’s hand, and the sheepish look Bianca’s giving her.
The principal’s eyebrows furrow at their interlocked arms, which quickly separate under her scrutiny.
Shit. Change the subject.
“Accusing me already?” The goth sits down on one of the chairs by the desk, gesturing for her roommate to do the same. “I’m wounded, Principal.”
“Am I wrong?” Weems retorts, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yes, actually. Rowan Laslow is dead.” Bianca’s voice wavers slightly as she delivers the news.
The goth places the bundle on the desk, unraveling it to reveal his severed arm, shooting the platinum-blonde a meaningful look.
The principal’s face pales even more than it already is, as her eyes frantically dart from the arm, to Wednesday, to Bianca, back down to the arm.
“Explain.” Her voice has taken on a steely edge, deathly serious as she makes direct eye contact with the Addams.
“Barclay and myself were at the fall festival and saw Laslow running past us into the forest, looking incredibly suspicious. We were concerned and gave chase, but suddenly in the forest, a…creature appeared, and killed him.” Wednesday explains, gesturing to the arm on the table. “It tore that off, threw it at my feet, and subsequently disappeared.”
Weems listens to this with a furrowed brow, before sighing tiredly, like someone who definitely needed a drink.
“Of course you couldn’t wait a month before getting entangled in a murder scheme.” The principal says, “And of course you dragged Miss Barclay into this.”
The siren shrinks into the chair, not making eye contact with Weems, before she speaks up, “I-Well, technically, I was the one who asked her to go with me to the fair. It wasn’t her idea.”
The platinum-blonde looks surprised for a second, before asking “And she…agreed to accompany you?”
Bianca nods sharply, exhaling, before replying. “It wasn’t Wednesday’s fault. Rowan was trying to kill her, and then that monster thing killed him.”
“Rowan tried to what?” Weems’s gaze flicks back to Wednesday, who sighs. “I didn’t think it was important.”
“Wednesday, you almost died! You passed out! I had to carry you to our dorm!” The siren’s eyes are wide, and she’s speaking rapidly, with so much worry in her tone that it hurts.
“…Apologies for worrying you.” The goth says quietly.
Weems’ eyebrows shoot up at how quickly she’d given in.
“Well. What did this ‘monster’ look like?” The platinum-blonde redirects, resting her chin on the back of her hand.
“It looked like a deer. Kind of. Like it had a deer head.” Bianca tries to describe it, and Wednesday adds, “The body was lurched forward and bony. I am unsure as to what exactly it is.”
The principal pinches the bridge of her nose, before sighing.
“Ok. Here’s what’s going to happen.” She places her hands on the table, interlocked. “I will be making it seem like Rowan Laslow is merely leaving the school, so the school’s reputation is preserved. You-” She points at Wednesday sharply, “-Will stay out of this. I know you Addams enjoy getting into trouble, but a student has been killed. I will not allow you to get hurt.” Her gaze shifts to the siren.
“That goes for you too, Miss Barclay. I won’t have either of my top students getting needlessly killed.”
Wednesday and Bianca share a look, before turning back to principal Weems.
“Understood.” The goth says, and they both nod.
The platinum-blonde looks skeptical but merely sighs and waves them out of her office, muttering something about 'Damn Addams'.
“So. I’m assuming you’re not going to stay out of this?” Bianca asks once they’ve returned to their room, a smile curling her lips.
Wednesday smirks back at her.
Of course she’s not.