Chapter Text
The desks at Nevermore should really come in different sizes. At least that’s what Isaac Night thought as he watched Pugsley Addams– a giant, hauntingly-pale boy in his math class- with his knees pushed up uncomfortably against the underside of the furniture and his neck craned awkwardly to write the answers to the equations in his assignment. He and Pugsley had a… twisted history with each other. On one hand, the youngest Addams– son of the very two people who killed him all those years ago– unconsciously revived him. Years and years went on and his truly, deeply, wonderfully beloved sister had grown up– still afflicted with her dreadful curse, had a little boy with someone else, and been locked up. All those years where he could’ve protected her… well, he couldn’t. The boy next to him had chained him up and kept him as a pet. He watched in the reflections of the metal he was chained in as his once charmingly handsome face rotted, filled with holes and bugs and tears. There was an odor that came from him that could be sensed from a mile away. He had become a monster. He had become self-less. He had to watch himself become a truly despicable thing. This, Isaac thought, he may never be able to forgive Pugsley for. On the other hand, however, Pugsley had done a good job caring for him. Or at least he had good intentions. He tried to be my friend, I guess, Isaac thought, not quite being able to help himself to stop glancing over at the other boy. He’s a lot less ugly than his father.
Since returning to his full human, Isaac had repented from his past cannibalistic sins. In a way, he felt as though they were purely an act of self defense. As much as he resented himself for it now, at the time, he was a mindless beast, filled only with rage and hunger. Even if he could go back and do it all again fully cognisant, he can’t say for certain that he wouldn’t do it again. I couldn’t be a zombie forever… I couldn’t live like that. I can barely live now. And Isaac meant it; with the Jericho legal system deeming that, since Isaac was physically and mentally still a teenager, he was required to continue his education. He begged to be put in the care of his sister, Francoise. However, after a week or so of government agents monitoring their home life as a family, Francoise was sent back to prison and he was put under the full custody of Nevermore Academy until his “18th” birthday. From Isaac’s point of view, he was better off still dead. He killed people. He didn’t save his sister. He just wanted to hold her one last time…
“Mr.Night?” Professor Zanifanginski snapped Isaac out of his thoughts. “What’s the answer to Question 5?”
“Uh–”
“It’s C,” Isaac whipped his head around to see Pugsley Addams, leaning almost completely over his desk to whisper to him. He gave him an open-mouth smile.
“Mr.Night?” Mr. Zanifanginski repeated, tapping his foot. Isaac realized he had no idea what country this man was from, but whatever it was did not make attractive people. This man was as long and skinny as a corncob, with a head like a basketball and skin an almost greenish hue. He had an unsightly beard as well.
“It’s C,” Isaac offered with a slight nervous blush.
“Incorrect.” Mr. Zanifanginski shook his head, disappointed. “Next week, come to my class prepared, hm?”
Isaac scowled, “Yes sir.”
He was not happy. Crossing his sweater-clad arms over his chest, sending a pointed look in Pugsley’s direction. The other boy sank low in his seat, legs sticking out past the desk wide in both directions. Luckily, this was one of the very few classes that the young latino did not constantly masturbate in, so no one was paying attention to their little exchange. Isaac had never really seen anyone talk to Pugsley in the hallway, or after class, or really anywhere at all. Not even his sister’s roommate liked him– actually, now that Isaac thought about it, she might genuinely hate the boy. He seemed very lonely, and, after their most recent interaction, the former-zombie was starting to understand why.
__________
The bell rang, finally! Quickly, Pugsley jumped up out of his seat in a rush to collect his things. Before he managed to weasel out of the room, Isaac grabbed him by the arm with his left hand. Pugsley’s eyes widened in horror, as his ash-colored eyebrows flew up in surprise. Since the whole, you know, keeping-Isaac-as-a-slave thing, the two hadn’t really… been on speaking terms. And now Slurp- Isaac- was a human. A real boy.
Pugsley gulped. Slurp is handsome. Well, he was handsome before too, you know, when he was all green and stuff–
“What the hell man!”
Pugsley flinched at this. Can he read my thoughts? Isaac’s face was scrunched together in frustration, his grip on the backwards young man’s arm did not loosen one bit. “Why did you give me the wrong answer?”
A relieved sigh fell from Pugsley’s lips. Anything was better than what he was thinking was going on. His nearly black eyes met the taller boy’s in a pleading gaze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Honest! How can I-”
“What are you, stupid or something?” Isaac growled, pushing Pugsley away and storming out of the classroom. How could I have been a prisoner to an idiot?
Pugsley stood still in his place. Lots of people called him stupid. His old classmates, his new classmates, his roommate, his grandmother, his sister, his sister’s kinda-hot roommate, Thing (after he escaped)... everybody who met the boy thought he was an idiot. It hurt more coming from Isaac, though, somehow. Slowly– as he did most things– Pugsley lowered his head and dragged his feet, heading slowly out of class. He couldn’t even reanimate someone from the dead to be friends with him! And so he dragged himself all the way to his dormhall, all the way up the staircase, and all the way to his bedroom, flopping down on his bed miserably, pulling up his Spongebob blanket over his head in shame.
Little did the backwards boy know, all the way down the hall on the left, in the grand Master Suite– usually reserved for the children of Outcast Diplomats– Isaac Night too sat in his bed, moping about the interaction. He too had no friends. Eating people and having a slightly inappropriate relationship with your sister really does put a damper on your popularity– at least Enid Sinclaire seemed to be fond of him, fistbumping him in the hallway after class today and everything. “Nice one”, she had said as they did it, though he died before fistbumping was popularized, so she had to show him how to do it, too. It felt nice for a second, having someone treat him like a normal kid, but, at the expense of another kid being picked on (even if it was bitch ass Pugsley Addams), it was a tainted sort of satisfaction that Isaac did not want to fall prey to. I can’t be a murder and a jerk!
Isaac curled up under the torn green quilt on his gigantic California King mattress, mind wandering to and fro, but somehow always returning to Pugsley Addams. Sure, the kid was pretty dumb. And he did have some… behavioral issues, to say the least. But he wasn’t altogether unpleasant to look at… not altogether. Not entirely. And at least he was trying to make an effort. Not many other people were. Isaac sighed, staring at his high-up, cobblestone ceiling; it was grey and dusty and he was sure that he could make out several spiderwebs at each corner– some intersecting each other like neighborhood blocks of eight-legged acquaintances. Spiders kept him company in the Hummers Shed when he was chained up. Even though he was ugly and mangled and disgusting; even when he was loud and yanked endlessly at his restraints– so hard that the entire structure would shake and wooden shards would fall to the floor– the spiders would sit peacefully in their corners and weave. At night, they would crawl into what was left of his hair and just sit. If he was a more imaginative boy, Isaac would’ve guessed that they sensed his pain and were trying to be comforting, afterall spiders are known to be very considerate and loyal to the people they lived with. But he wasn't very imaginative, just appreciative. And he appreciated those little arachnids. As silly as it sounds, imagining the spiders on his ceiling were the same ones (or at least relatives of– maybe sisters) that were in the little shack, helped him sleep at night.
Isaac turned to the analog alarm clock on his end table. He didn’t much like the idea of having a modern one; too much new technology at once would frustrate him. It was 5:17 in the evening. The sun was still glaring through the curtains on his window. It wasn’t time for sleeping just yet. Isaac slid off of his bed, pulling corduroy pants over his sleeping sorts and running a long, slender hand through his naturally windswept-looking hair. He would fill the time between now and sunset with a timely trip to the dining hall.
Isaac was midway between the dormitory and the cafeteria, raggedy old shoes taking on large chunks of damp mud from the campus grounds, which were watered each night around 5PM, when he bumped into the same colorfully-dressed werewolf he had seemed to be bumping into a lot recently. Enid smiled brightly at Isaac, waved frantically at him, and gestured for him to come over to her. Maybe she’s not so much of a bully after all. As far as he knew, Enid Sinclair was fairly popular around Nevermore, even outside of her werewolf pack. She was on the airhockey team, was fairly attractive and kind, always carefully picked out her outfits, and seemed to genuinely pay attention to others. She even made her melancholy roommate a little more popular in association– where the Addams’ exceeded in their supernatural abilities, they were severely lacking in social skills by a longshot. Luckily for Wednesday though, she made a friend in Enid. Maybe the same luck was coming for Isaac? I guess if I follow her to dinner I’ll find out!
……….
The two acquaintances sat and chatted, occasionally sharing a laugh. Enid was even so gracious as to introduce him to her friends who seemed as though they couldn’t help themselves but to gather around her, like ants to a sugarcube. Maybe it would be a slow process, but people would potentially, finally, see Isaac as a normal kid. He smiled at that thought. How would that feel,,, being normal? Even decades ago, the first time he was a teenage boy, people didn’t consider him normal. He was a sister-fucking freak! But… his sister isn’t here. Enid was, and Bruno, and Bianca, and Eugene and even Wednesday Addams… and Isaac. Yes, after all of these years, he was finally normal! He was finally at peace.
Until he wasn’t.
Because, just as he helped himself to another spoonful of mashed potatoes, looking around excitedly at his new group of lively- well- friends, a dark cloud seemed to hush the group into tense silence. Like a human shadow, a large, wood-colored boy in spacious shorts and a striped sweater that was stretched at the collar, sulked into the dininghall with a sourpuss.
Pugsley Addams.
He skipped the line, pushed a few first-years, loaded his plate past the point of it being visibly uncomfortable to hold, and slammed down into the seat beside Wednesday. Though Isaac had no way of verifying it, he was more than sure that Pugsley knew he wasn’t invited to the table. The air and fun had been sucked out of the whole place– even neighboring tables had halted in their actions. Without sparing one person a passing glance, the youngest Addams started shovelling food into his mouth in giant spoonfuls that towered over the utensil itself at a rapid speed. Is he even chewing? It was hard to tell, but he hardly had time to at that rate.
“Pugsley, let’s go find somewhere else to eat,“ Wednesday demanded in her signature monotone voice, no discernible emotion crossing her features.
“No. I don’t want to–”
“I said. Let’s. Go.”
And just like that, the siblings got up and crossed the hall, all the way to the far side in a dimly lit corner. Isaac could not stop staring.