Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Consuming all the air inside my lungs

Ripping all the skin from off my bones

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life

I would gladly do it twice

***

The rumors start out in the middle of term, right as the weather turns cold and foggy. Wednesday doesn’t know who started them, which bothers her greatly, because she would love to interrogate them about their sources. Because she needs to know if there’s any truth to the gossip.

All she knows is that the student body starts whispering about them one day, looking fearful and apprehensive. 

About the wolf hunters.

“They come at night.” one of the junior gorgons shudders quietly in the quad, eyes wide. “They already killed two alphas in a town not far from here.” The students around him look at each other in fear.

Wednesday immediately looks up the town in question. It is 90 miles away from Nevermore. Far too close. Her research brings up two recent murders, gory and violent. She would tremendously enjoy reading about them if not for the aching worry and fear in her chest. Were they really alpha werewolves? None of the sources mention it, but the news always suppress outcast statuses. At least, when the outcasts in question are victims, not offenders…

“Would they come for Enid?” A small, terrified looking werewolf girl asks her friend quietly one cloudy afternoon, and Wednesday has to force herself not to shove her against the wall and rip her tongue out. She knows Enid wouldn’t appreciate it. But how dare she imply, how dare she ever even voice the guttering, looming, agonizing question that Wednesday has been asking herself for weeks.

Would they…?

No. She would not let them. She’d tear them apart.

As for Enid, she seems to be oddly calm about the whole thing. 

“I already survived a Hyde, being hunted by my own pack, and being friends with you and Agnes.” she says far too cheerfully for Wednesday’s liking. “I can handle some pesky normie hunters.”

Don’t get her wrong, Wednesday would normally find this newfound confidence and acceptance of violence very… appealing on Enid. Far too appealing, but she’s not going to get into that too deeply right now.

But all she can feel instead is dread and frustration. Why wouldn’t Enid take this seriously? If the hunters could take down two alphas…

“They might not even be real, you know.” Enid says later, as they lay in their respective beds in their asymmetric dorm room, obviously realising that Wednesday is still bothered by this. “Those murders could just be random, and someone probably started the rumors about the alphas and the wolf hunters as a prank or something.”

Wednesday very much hopes that is true. For one, she wouldn’t have to worry about the hunters. For another, if she finds out who, she would have the perfect candidate for a good drowning.

Nevertheless, she insists on accompanying Enid to the Lupin cages every time since. Enid is uncertain about this at first, but Wednesday can see clearly that she is also greatly touched by her best friend’s protectiveness and concern. So she allows it.

(Wednesday would have followed her anyways.)

Since Wednesday had found Enid and restored her human form, they have been closer than ever before. Enid has become an almost permanent presence at her side, no matter where they went. Wherever Enid Sinclair was, you would find Wednesday Addams not far from there. Usually about 2 inches away. The wolf is obviously very happy about this, and Wednesday is dreadfully surprised to find that she isn’t entirely opposed to it either. She’s also not ready to get into that.

She accompanies Enid to the cages, staying there all night, watching, guarding, listening. Enid whines at her to rest, to sleep, but she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Her mind is restless, as if her psychic powers are trying to warn her to be cautious. That something is coming.

And she would be prepared.

She comes with Enid the next day as well. And the next.

She doesn’t sleep. She watches.

***

Darkness surrounds her.

Trees and bushes fly past as she runs and pants, her legs aching from exhaustion. She smells iron in the air.

Blood.

She hears mocking laughter from behind. She’s not alone.

Pain. It hits her suddenly and the force of it makes her dizzy. Lightheaded.

She hears a gunshot and her aching body flinches. More blood. Everything is red now.

Someone laughs again. It is different from the other. How many of them are there?

She turns and lunges. Something catches on her sharp claws. Their rainbow colors are drenched in red.

Someone screams. Another voice curses loudly.

She needs to run. She needs to fight.

Vertigo. The lines of trees are blurry.

Another swipe. She misses. Then she sees the needle. It is full of a runny substance. Her instincts tell her to stay away.

She kicks out. The blood on her fur drips into her eyes and she can barely see.

Then she feels a sharp pricking in her side. She blinks. The world gets more blurry.

Her muscles are shutting down. She can’t breathe. The ground is suddenly at eye level. There’s a man next to her. His grin is ugly and malicious.

Oh.

Wolfbane.

That is… a problem.

The darkness around her vision creeps up, swallowing her whole.

Then she is lost. Lost to this world.

She feels cold. Colder than ever. Her last thought comes to her mind, suddenly clearly.

Wednesday.

The cold fades, and she feels warmth in her chest. 

Then she is gone.

***

Wednesday wakes suddenly with a gasp, her roommate's name echoing on her lips. Her entire body is shaking. She chokes on her breathing, a wave of nausea hitting her hard. The next moment she is leaning over to the side of her bed, retching black liquid onto the floor.

She shakily stands up once the sickness subsides, immediately heading over to Enid’s bed, searching frantically. Her heart stutters in her chest, feeling sick once more when she realises it’s empty. Enid’s bed is empty.

Where is she?

“Enid?” she screams out, hoping to see the young werewolf strutting out cheerfully from the bathroom or the balcony. “Enid!”

Nothing.

Not this. Not again.

Panic rises. She needs to calm down, needs to think! Breathe.

She feels something trickle down from her nose to her lips. She wipes it away impatiently.

What happened? The vision. What triggered it? Did she touch something? Where was Enid?

She glances at the clock and realises with a drop in her stomach that it is already late enough for Enid to have gone to the Lupin cages. Then with a shameful dread she realises she’d fallen asleep. That sleep deprivation finally caught up to her.

She hasn’t slept for the last three days, staying up to watch over Enid in the cages. And today after school… she had fallen asleep.

Why didn’t Enid wake her up? Why did she have to leave alone?

Enid has been bothering her to go to sleep for days, looking more worried every night. That must have been why…

The vision. Hunters. Blood. They’re here. Wolfbane. There was wolfbane in the…

Oh no.

“No, no, no, no, no!” She sprints towards the door, not bothering to put on a coat for the cold weather, desperate to get to the cages.

“Wednesday!” a commanding voice rings through the room, and Wednesday almost trips. She turns around and finds herself face to face with a spirit she hasn’t seen in months.

“Weems.” she pants. She doesn’t care why she’s here. She only cares about…

“Where is she? Where’s Enid?” Her voice is raspy and emotional but she doesn’t care. Weems’ usually stoic and authoritarian expression is filled with worry. 

“That wasn’t a normal vision. You didn’t touch anything, it came to you in your sleep. That never happened before.”

“I don’t care!” The words tear out of Wednesday's throat shrilly and loudly, echoing all over the room. Weems looks startled and surprised at the force of it.

“Listen to me.” She says frantically, not contemptuously like her usual lectures, but earnest. “This is something new. The dream, the black liquid coming from not just your eyes now, me being called here. I know you haven’t abused your abilities lately which means this is something else. You saw this because you had to. Because your life would have been irreparably broken had you not.” Wednesday hopes Weems is going somewhere with this, somewhere that leads to Enid being safe and sound, because if not, she is going to murder her, spirit or not.

“Enid isn’t in the cages anymore. You won’t find her there.”

“Then where-”

“You have to find out. Did you see where she was in the vision?”

“In the woods, there were trees-” Wednesday responds immediately, not even caring about being ordered around by the late principal.

“That’s not enough, the forest is too big. You need something more specific if you want to find her.”

“How?” she demands.

“You need to see more. Open your mind. Use your necklace as well. Concentrate on the vision. On Enid.” 

Wednesday complies without complaint, pulling out her necklace from under her pullover, clenching it tight in her fist as she closes her eyes.

Enid.

She has to find Enid.

She focuses on the dream, the vision, whatever it was. Pain flares up in her chest, she feels dizzy as she falls to her knees. Then she sees it. The cottage. The one her parents stayed in last year.

“She’s near the cottage!” she heaves,  getting up from her knees, finally having enough mind now to grab some extra weapons from her desk drawer. She feels more black liquid dripping from her nose but ignores it.

“Save her Wednesday.” Weems says quietly as Wednesday conceals the blades on her body expertly. “Bring her back.”

I will. 

Wednesday rips the door open and runs, not bothering to close it behind her.

She has to save Enid.

She has to.

Chapter Text

Wednesday runs. 

Her chest aches and her bones are screaming at her because apparently her pathetic body doesn’t consider four hours of sleep quite enough after three days of wakeful vigilance, but she doesn’t care. Adrenaline pulses through her veins, quieting the exhaustion and the pain that came with her unusual premonition.

Please let her be on time.

How much of the vision was true? All of it? Has it already happened, was Enid dead already, body limp and full of wolfbane? Or did she still have time?

Please.

She doesn’t know who she’s begging to.

The woods are dark and cold, but she can barely feel the temperature even with only a white undershirt and black pullover on her. Flashes of her dream come back to her in fragments.

Danger.

Pain.

Fear.

Blood.

She’s fast approaching the cottage that once housed Laurel Gates, then her parents. It stands empty now. When she arrives, she looks around frantically. There’s nobody around. Panic starts to rise but she fights it down.

Pull yourself together. She scorns herself. You are an Addams, act like one.

Willing herself to calm down, to think, she looks around for any signs of a struggle, any footprints or blood.

Nothing.

Her senses are on overdrive, searching, listening, observing.

Then she hears it. A low cursing coming from the trees behind the cabin. She whips out a knife from her boot, holding it firmly in her hand, approaching with the stealth of an assassin.

She ducks under a branch, taking care to conceal herself. It isn’t hard with the darkness, her black clothes and her small frame. She finds the man after a few minutes of treading through the woods quietly.

He is shabby and looks to be in his thirties. He’s alone. Armed. He wears a uniform similar to a soldier, and reeks of cigarette smoke.

“Stupid fucking thing!” he murmurs, frustrated, as he smacks the gun against his hand with the other. Wednesday can see that the safety is off. He aims ahead of himself, pulls the trigger, and curses again when nothing happens.

It’s jammed, she realises.

Perfect.

“Hey!” the man yells out suddenly, and Wednesday, who has started to approach him slowly but steadily, hides behind a tree. “Hey! Come back! My gun’s stuck!” 

No response comes.

“Assholes.” he mutters angrily, dropping the gun unceremoniously.

Then Wednesday is behind him and hurls her blade hard into his thigh.

“Fuck!” he screams, stumbling, whipping around aimlessly. He tries to swing at her but she easily dodges and aims a strong kick against his stomach, ripping her knife out of his leg in the process. He falls backwards and hits the ground hard.

He screams again, cursing adamantly. The blood starts flowing all over his thigh, painting his uniform trousers dark red. The sight pleases Wednesday greatly.

She doesn’t waste any time jumping on him, pining him to the ground with her blade at his throat. He sees her properly for the first time and his eyes widen.

“Who the fuck are you? You little bitch!” he starts thrashing around, and Wednesday begins slicing into his neck without mercy. He yells and stills suddenly, blood running down on the side of his neck.

“Wait! Wait! Please! What do you want? Let’s just talk about this! I’ll tell you whatever you want!” The coward screams and chokes, and Wednesday stills her knife.

“Where is she? What did you do to her?” her voice comes out low and dangerous, pushing the knife more firmly against his injured neck. He squeals like a pig.

“You mean the alpha? Nothing! I swear!” he wheezes and sobs like a child. “We haven’t found her! We tried the cages but she must have sensed us, she wasn’t there!”

Relief passes through her chest. If he’s telling the truth, then that means it hadn’t happened. Yet. 

“How many of you are there?” she interrogates, tone full of menace and rage.

“Six.” he sobs.

“Including you?”

“Yes.”

That’s good. Then she’ll only have to deal with five more.

“Where did the others go?”

“I don’t know! The fuckers left me when my gun got fucked.” Wednesday cuts him deeply in his upper arm, almost deep enough to open him up to the bone. She does love this knife. It was a gift for her 8th birthday from her father. The hunter howls louder than ever. ” I don’t- I do- you BITCH! Fuck - that way!” he wails, indicating to his left. Wednesday regretfully stops cutting into his flesh.

“What do you want? Why are you here?” 

For the first time, the man smirks slightly, expression slightly crazed. He's pale, the pain and blood loss obviously getting to him. “Here for the beast. The alpha. To kill it. Mandy set a nice trap for the monster near the caves. They love caves, the stupid animals- AARGH!” 

Rage fills her chest more prominently than before. Wednesday would love to take her time with him, to cut him up and make him shriek, to have him bleed like a pig until he’s dry, to make him lose his mind in pain and agony. But she can’t. She doesn’t have the time.

So she slits his throat unceremoniously with a clean movement and leaves him choking on his blood on the ground.

Caves. He mentioned caves. She knows exactly where that could be.

She rushes to the direction the hunter had showed her, concealing her knife quickly under her clothes. She doesn’t stop until she sees a familiar small clearing ahead. She’s been here before. There are multiple caves on its other side not far from here. Maybe a mile.

The darkness fades slightly as the moonlight shines through the few trees between her and the glade. Instinct tells her to slow down, to observe. She tracks quietly, careful not to step on snapping twigs. Her eyes catch a small wire a few inches above the ground in front of her, as the moonlight reflects on its thin material. It is stretched out in front of her, cleverly concealed under the leaves. Her eyes follow the wire, noticing it’s connected to a small crossbow fastened to a tree trunk above her. Wednesday thinks she can see something shine on the pointed head.

Poison.

She carefully steps over the wire, and heads towards the clearing. It is small, only about 10 meters in diameter. Perfect for an ambush.

She can hear movement from the other side of the glade, figures shifting behind the trees. She readies herself for a fight. She can take them. It’s dark. She’ll go around, use the cover of the woods. Kill most of them before the others even realise what’s happening. 

She hears a mocking voice from the other side, and a man recklessly steps out of his cover, revealing himself in the moonlight. Imbecile. Wednesday readies herself to throw one of her blades between his eyes, but stops when the man speaks.

“What a clever little wolf we have here folks! Knows a trap when she sees one.”

Wednesday freezes, as two distinct thoughts fly through her mind.

One. They think she’s their target.

Two. They know she’s here, and that she avoided their trap. But how?

She looks up, and notices a small camera hidden beneath branches.

Of course.

She curses herself for not noticing it sooner.

They know she’s here. They’ve seen her. But they are expecting a werewolf. If they try to attack her with wolfbane she’ll be fine. Wednesday has been drinking poison for fun since she was 4 years old. It might get messy if a big dose gets into her bloodflow, but she can handle it. She can fight them.

But should she fight them? If they truly think she's Enid then maybe… but how can they not know who they’re looking for? If they have even the slightest description of Enid, they would obviously realise it’s not her. They couldn’t look more different if they tried.

She switches places quickly, trying to get out of the camera’s line of sight. She notices several more, and backs out of their range as well, hiding in the shadows, trying to gain time. To figure this out.

“Oh don’t be shy, beastie!” jeers the man in the clearing, and she hears several other voices laugh menacingly from the shadows. “Come out, let’s talk about this.” His grin is heinous, his yellow teeth are visible in the moonlight, eyes flashing with glee.

Wednesday has heard of people hunting down outcasts in some kind of misguided belief that they were making the world a safer place, getting rid of monsters. She doesn’t think it is the case for this group. She notices a set of fangs hanging around the man’s neck.

Trophies.

These people are here for the fun of it. For the glory.

The man’s eyes flashes again and Wednesday’s breath catches. She’s seen him before. Seen those wicked eyes.

It was he who killed Enid in her vision.

Her rage intensifies, reeking havoc inside her every cell and she has to force herself not to throw her dagger at his head.

She quickly lets go of her weapons, tucking them back under her clothes more firmly. If she starts fighting or shows up with blades, they will know immediately. Wolves don’t use knives. They have claws for that.

She might not be able to kill them all. They are more clever than she expected. Traps, wolfbane… they are prepared. And if she loses the fight… she won’t go down without a few kills at least, but if she dies and some of them survive… they’ll know. And they will go after Enid again.

But if she can convince them…

It’s worth a try.

She has to save Enid.

Against every instinct she possesses, she steps out from the cover of the trees, revealing herself fully to the enemy. His eyes snap towards her, and she can see the four others stepping out from behind him, already spreading out wider, attempting to surround her. They are all armed. She takes a few more steps, now only a few meters from the hunters. Her head is raised proudly as she finally speaks, voice even and strong.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

Chapter Text

The man looks at her and grins, obviously satisfied with himself.

“So it is you.” He looks down at her degradingly. “It’s always the small ones you wouldn’t suspect.” he cackles loudly. The other hunters echo him. He must be the leader of this little club they have, the others following him around like obedient little pets. How cute.

“You don’t even know what your target looks like?” Wednesday asks contemptuously. “How amateurish.” She taunts, sounding almost disappointed and a woman on the left raises her gun at her in anger.

“I’ll show you amateurish, you little freak!” she yells, finger dancing on the trigger. Wednesday looks at her unimpressed. The leader laughs.

“Not yet, Mandy. Patience.” he instructs. The woman’s finger leaves the trigger, but she doesn’t lower the gun. The other three shifts uneasily.

“We knew there was an alpha in this cursed school.” The man says slowly. “It wasn’t hard to figure out after all the rumors and wildlife footage circling around in the hunter community.” He smirks. “An alpha who wolfed out on a full moon and managed to shift back into human form. I do wonder how you did it.”

“I’m sure you do.” Wednesday says flatly, her cold black heart freezing over even more. This was all her fault. If Enid hadn't wolfed out for her just to dig her up, they would have no idea there’s an alpha around here. How many other hunter groups suspect her existence because of this? Because of Wednesday?

“But this school goes to a surprising level of secrecy to protect its students' identity. I’m sure you know many refer to it as a…” his mouth twists in obvious disgust and distaste. “safe haven for outcasts.”

Wednesday thinks back to all the times when she and her peers had almost died on school premises the last few years, and decides that she has to disagree with that sentiment. Still, she appreciates the privacy the institution provides for its students at least.

“But it wasn’t hard to figure out that only an alpha would be out in the woods at night, and around the wolf cages when it isn’t a full moon yet.” The leader looks up to the waxing gibbous moon on the clear sky, and lets out a sigh of content. “And look at that, we were right.” Wednesday, who had prowled these woods at night numerous times before, has to disagree with his logic, finding it rather short-sighted, but keeps this to herself.

He grins at her again, in a forced unsettling manner. It doesn’t scare her. He seems to notice this. Wednesday is amused to see that it irritates him and the others as well. They want her to be afraid. Her lack of emotion unsettles them. 

This knowledge pleases her greatly. She continues to stare blankly at the hunters.

“Now listen.” he takes a step closer, and brings his arm forward. He is holding a bat. Rather primitive compared to the guns the other hunters are sporting, but Wednesday can appreciate some creative effort.

“Let’s be mature about this,” he starts. His phrasing is a bit presumptuous in Wednesday's opinion, considering what they are planning to do with her. “We aren't here to hurt the other brats. We’re not even here for the other wolves you see. Just, you.” He puts great emphasis on the last two words, holding out the bat and pointing it directly at Wednesday, raising it up slightly at each word. “So let’s make this easy for all of us. You surrender, we do our business, and we leave. We won’t touch any of the other freaks in your precious school.”

Wednesday’s mind is running on overdrive, measuring all the possible steps she could take from here. She is at a disadvantage now, surrounded and out in the open. If they really leave…

Enid would be safe.

“Why?” she asks sharply, eyeing the hunters on the side, who are obviously trying to circle her in a not very subtle way. “Why do you do this? Why should I believe anything you say?”

The man lets out a grunt of impatience.

“Why, why, why, because the little puppies are boring now!” he yells frantically, tone petulant, almost whiny.  “We want the big prey.” He grins maniacally, tugging on the fangs around his neck and showing them off proudly. All of them are huge.

All from alpha werewolves.

“So let’s handle this between us, and leave the others out of it.” he raises an eyebrow imploringly, as if he’s a teacher trying to speak sense into a misbehaving student. It’s infuriating. “Surrender. We’ll make this quick for you.” He gives her what he probably considers to be an encouraging look.

She is completely surrounded now. There’s no going back. She can attack, probably perish, but at least she would go down fighting. But then they would realise she’s not who they’re looking for. And they would go back to hunting Enid down.

And Wednesday can’t allow that.

Can’t allow her vision to come true.

“Fine.” She says quietly, but steadily, looking up at him with bold and open hatred. The leader looks surprised at her agreement. Probably because she still hasn’t shown any signs of fear. Then he grins again. She really wants to wipe away that idiotic grin. Preferably with a chainsaw.

“Good. It’s nice to finally have someone who knows what’s best for each party involved.” he says smugly. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a needle, the needle and her eyes widen and breath catches at the sight of the injection she’d seen killing her-

Her what? Her roommate? Her best friend? Her ally, her partner in crime, her…

Her Enid.

Her reaction isn’t lost on the hunters, although misinterpreted. They laugh mockingly.

“I was planning on using this.” He says slowly. “But in this form…” he looks her over, his gaze predatory. “We won’t even need it.” He puts it back into his pocket, and adjusts his grip on the bat. “It’s quite expensive.”

He takes two more steps, and suddenly he is right in front of her, within gutting distance. Oh, how Wednesday would love to gut him. She looks up at him defiantly, head high. She doesn’t stumble back nor does she flinch.

“So fearless.” He murmurs quietly, wonderingly. “I wonder why…” he shakes his head, expression hardening in determination. “Alright then.”

Wednesday hears the other hunters shifting around her. The four others are in a circle, surrounding them completely in the middle of this lonely glade.

“Kneel.” The leader spits the command at her, face contorting into a wicked grin, obviously enjoying this.

This is an execution. She realises, stomach dropping. Her Addams brain is screaming at her to ignore the command, to fight, to maim, to kill, or to at least try. But she can’t, not if it means revealing that she’s not the one they’re hunting. Not the one they’re meant to kill.

For Enid.

The single thought quietens her rebelling instincts, and she lowers herself to the ground, knees hitting the cold mud in surrender.

The hunters jeer.

She expects bullets to her head, but instead the man takes one last step closer and raises his bat.

“I have to admit. I’m almost disappointed." He brings the weapon down at her head mercilessly. Wednesday could easily dodge it. She doesn’t. 

She falls to the ground, determined not to cry out. She’s seeing stars from the hard impact to her skull. She feels blood dripping from the side of her head. It gives her a strange sense of deja vu. 

She looks up at him, wondering what happened to “making it quick”, and he seems to read her mind.

“Come ooon.” He says mockingly. “You can’t expect us not to have at least a little fun.” He brings down the bat again. This time it hits her in the shoulder, hard.

The woman cackles madly behind them, and she feels a powerful kick to her back.

“I thought she would put up more of a fight. She looked so fearless, I was almost waiting for a good battle.” She laughs, demeaning. “But I guess you’re just a little girl, aren’t you?” She kicks Wednesday again, this time in her stomach and she gasps helplessly on the ground. She feels a burning sensation in her side and realises one of the hunters must have jabbed her with their knife. All the others join in as well now. Her vision blurs, and she closes her eyes.

She loses track of time as the blows land on her body. The woman also takes out a knife, and starts cutting into her skin, obviously enjoying it. Wednesday can relate. She would also enjoy cutting the woman up the same way.

Then the chief grabs her chin and forces her face towards him. Her eyes pop open, and they are met with cold, cruel ones.

“This is for the best you know. You’re a monster.” He says, almost softly, and Wednesday wants to kill him more than ever.

Oh, you have no idea. She thinks, and has to hold back a manic laughter, not wanting to give away her game. She feels more pain in her abdomen.

The edge of her vision is black and the middle is foggy. Everything hurts. She tries to breathe, but feels blood in her throat and she almost chokes. She spits it on the man. He curses, lets go of her chin and raises the bat again, hitting her hard in the chest. The pain bursts inside her and she finally lets out a pained groan.

The hunters cheer in celebration. That they managed to give voice to her suffering. Agony is sweeping through her body as she’s kicked, hit and cut all over. Her body goes limp, breathing is heavy. Every inhale feels like her lungs are on fire. 

“Alright, enough.” The leader says with laughter in his voice, and the blows stop. They stand around her limp form, looking down at her with glee and satisfaction. Her eyes are slightly open, and she sees the blurring image of the man step in front of her. He's the only one she  can see now.

He finally draws his gun, and points it point blank at her dizzy, bleeding head.

She thinks she should be afraid. But all she feels is relief. Because Enid is safe now. Because it’s over.

The man’s finger starts squeezing the trigger and Wednesday lets her eyes fall closed. Her entire body is aching and bruised and sticky with blood but she can barely feel it, thoughts encompassed by one thing only. Enid Sinclair. Her nauseatingly colorful clothes and hair. Her smile. How she skipped all over the school like an overexcited puppy. The way she shook Wednesday by the arm whenever she was happy or excited, dragging her with her wherever she went. How she always pulled Wednesday closer, unfolded her like open heart surgery. It was infuriating.

Wednesday wouldn’t have it any other way.

She hears a loud, violent growl, a shrill scream, and the gun goes off.

Chapter Text

Enid knows that things have changed between them since last summer. Since the whole alpha business. She knows because Wednesday doesn’t pull away so much anymore. Enid had always pushed. Gently, carefully, but consistently, she pushed. And Wednesday usually pulled away. But not always.

A small bump to the shoulder, a surprise birthday party in a crypt, a gift, a hug. Some of these were too much, pushed enough that Wednesday became unbalanced, out of control and lashed out, or simply pulled back, the distance between them suddenly the same as before.

But some pushed them closer together. 

They are friends. They work. Sometimes, they argue. Other times… other times Enid thinks she would never find anything remotely like this again for the rest of her life.

She also realises she doesn’t want to. She just wants Wednesday.

The light at the end of her tunnel.

She had thought that the Crackstone incident would bring them closer, and it probably did, in hindsight, but it was hard to see at the time with all the drama and misunderstandings that were going on during that particular semester. Wednesday’s weird visions, problems with her psychic ability, her aunt, her vision of Enid’s death and her subsequent need to keep her out of danger without fucking communicating any of this to her properly… all of these things made Wednesday pull away. And it made Enid push, push harder than Wednesday could handle, harder than ever before. And so they stumbled.

Unbalanced.

Out of control.

Thinking back now, Enid thinks they probably were closer. If Wednesday had gotten that vision when she first arrived at Nevermore, she probably wouldn’t have given a shit.

Okay, Enid knows that’s a lie. Wednesday always cared about the lives of others, even if she would never admit it. Always went out of her way to save her peers from the very beginning. Rowan. Eugene. Xavier. Bianca and her mom. Some weren’t even her friends really. 

(God forbid anybody notice this though. That would prove that she had feelings.)

So she probably would have given a shit. 

But would it have come even close to the lengths Wednesday had gone to keep Enid safe and alive in their second year? Even if it meant pulling away and stumbling? Stumbling together?

She thinks not.

She remembers switching bodies, remembers Wednesday’s earnest promise at the gravestone of Rosaline Rothwood.

I know you think that being an alpha will mean you’ll be alone again. I won’t let that happen.

And Enid had believed her. Without a doubt.

So yeah, Enid guesses they did get closer after Crackstone. After their first hug. Even if it was a bumpy ride. 

But not like this. Not like they have been since Enid dug Wednesday up from that grave. Since Wednesday spent an entire summer trying and eventually succeeding in turning her back to her human form. Their second hug.

Enid knows that things have changed. She knows because Wednesday doesn’t pull away like she used to. She knows, because she can push more. The limit had shifted. She knows, because others have noticed as well.

Wednesday would bring her coffee in the cafeteria, face twisted in disgust at the “unreasonable amount of sugar and sweets” in her order. But she would bring it to her anyway. And Bianca would raise an eyebrow, and Divina would smile at them suggestively.

Enid would throw an arm around her shoulders and Wednesday would not pull away. Sometimes she didn’t even make a face. People would stare. Enid didn't care. Wednesday certainly didn't.

She would share more things with Enid. Not everything of course, Wednesday was still a very private person who would often much rather jump off a balcony than share information about herself. But she would share more with Enid than anybody else (including her parents).

She let her read her book. Enid had nightmares from it. Turns out Viper’s opinion on Evelyn actually shifts quite early in the story. Who would have thought.

And no matter what, Wednesday would be there. For her. She would threaten the people who made her cry, and would probably actually go through with the threats if Enid let her. 

But if Enid asked, she would even refrain from violence.

Take that, universe.

So if these long months of bonding and friendship and the honestly fuck tone of shared trauma made Enid feel things for her roommate that were definitely more than simple friendship feelings… 

Well, who could blame her, really.

When Wednesday starts to accompany her to the Lupin cages like a body guard, concealed weapons hidden under her hoodie, refusing to sleep for the whole time on account of some stupid rumors about wolfhunters, Enid isn't surprised anymore. She is incredibly touched, and it makes her feel like her heart is going to explode, and she is also incredibly frustrated because Wednesday would not sleep. No matter how much Enid begs her to.

But she is not surprised. Not anymore.

“I’m not letting you get killed in your sleep like some weakling.” Wednesday had said dismissively. Because God forbid Wednesday Addams did anything nice for anybody without a dismissive excuse for said action. God forbid she showed she cared.

(Enid knows she does. She may have doubted it in the past. But not anymore.)

And when days later Wednesday finally falls asleep after classes, Enid smiles in relief, and goes to the cages on her own. She doesn't really believe the hunter rumors anyway.

As it turns out, she is very wrong to think that.

When she starts to smell them near the cages, her wolf immediately begins to transform at the prospect of the threat, and all she can think is,

“Thank God Wednesday is not with me today.”

She would not feel relieved for long.

Werewolves, especially alpha werewolves, had incredible hearing. Of course she wouldn’t normally be able to hear a conversation from miles away, especially not in a forest where there were so many noises, animals and all kinds of different sounds. But she could pick out that one particular sound from anywhere.

Wednesday’s voice.

Well, not just her voice. Enid had discovered that even when the moon was thin, when she couldn't even hear her other friends’ heartbeat standing right next to them, she could still pick out Wednesday’s any time, even if she was on the other side of the school. Her weird slow pulse, that made Enid’s heart speed up in return.

Balance.

And her voice was even easier to hear. Blank. Ominous. Flat. So even from miles away, she can hear it clearly in her wolf form.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

And she runs faster than ever before. She hears her talking to them, lying to them, and realises with dreaded horror that Wednesday doesn’t attempt to fight.

Why, why, why?

She’s far away, too far, sprinting through the woods recklessly, not caring about anything other than reaching her. 

Reaching her in time.

She hears her surrender.

No, no, no, no, what the hell are you doing Wednesday?

She knows of course. Knows exactly what she's doing and it’s making her want to carve up the world into tiny pieces.

Then they are hurting her, and she hears the blow after blow, and the mocking laughter and how dare they touch her and she is still too far away! 

She hears her gasping in pain. It freezes her blood in her veins.

She finally reaches the clearing and sees Wednesday laying on the cold ground, hurt and bloodied, and there’s a man above her pointing his gun at her-

And Enid snaps.

***

The shot rings clear through the night, even with the echoing sounds of screaming and growling. Wednesday’s eyes pop open just in time to see the hunter above her flinch violently as he pulls the trigger. 

Suddenly her shoulder is burning with an aching flare. Deja vu again. Someone curses, another scream echoes in the clearing. The man above her has disappeared from her line of sight.

Wednesday can barely see, vision still blurry and head dizzy, but she forces herself up on her elbows, trying desperately not to pass out.

What happened? 

Blurry figures move around her line of sight, the sounds of battle tearing through the glade, and as she turns her head slightly she finally sees her.

Pink and yellow fur shining in the moonlight, colorful claws slashing and cleaving, her form huge and beautiful, power and strength radiating from her threatening frame as she growls and tears and snaps, her rage perfectly evident. Wednesday can still barely see, but she recognises that wolf immediately. How could she not? For a moment she feels her black heart clench with disgusting affection at the familiar sight.

Then her brain catches up to her eyes.

No, no, no, no, no!

She is not supposed to be here, she’s supposed to be far away, safe and sound, that was the whole point, the whole reason she’s done this, why is she here?

She blinks, trying to clear her vision slightly, attempting to get rid of the fog covering her mind. There are swears and gunshots and screams, and she sees Enid take the woman’s entire throat in her mouth and rip it from her body with the force of a raging storm, her teeth snapping her windpipe into pieces.

Beautiful.

She shakes herself, but immediately regrets it as the dizziness intensifies.

Focus.

She forces herself up on her knees, teeth gritting in agony. The grass around her is covered in her blood, dark red in the moonlight. Two identical blades appear in her hands from hidden sheaths.

I have to help her.

Wednesday sees a man run past her, rushing towards her wondrously perilous wolf. Her hand shoots out widely, grabbing him and striking as swiftly as she is able in her current predicament, and the next moment the man is down, the dagger’s hilt sticking out of his chest as he falls.

Only three left. 

She looks around widely and sees Enid fighting two hunters at the same time, her face contorted in rage and bloodlust, teeth bared, fur covered in the blood of their enemies. It is a glorious sight.

Where’s the last one? The leader. Did he run?

Wednesday tries to get closer to the raging battle but her knees buckle on the second step and she falls to the ground again.

Get up! Her brain screams at her uselessly.

She gets as far as raising one leg before falling again. Pain shoots through her more violently than before and she feels herself trembling and fading. She feels sticky wetness from her shoulder down to her abdomen, and realises the bullet must have hit a vein. The effects of blood loss could not have come at a more inconvenient time. She notices she’s shaking.

Get up!

She’s relieved to see another hunter fall. Enid’s claws pierce him straight through the chest. From this angle, Wednesday can see the rainbow colors sticking out the other side of his body before Enid rips them out.

Magnificent.

The last hunter is backing away now, face covered in tears and bile, panic apparent on his entire frame.

She’s winning.

Enid is winning.

Wednesday feels a heavy load lift from her chest at the realization. She must have changed enough. She must have prevented it from happening. What did she do? How many did she kill? Two? Three? She can’t count. Is she concussed?

Her relief evaporates into nothing, dread filling every part of her body as she notices another figure sneaking up behind Enid. He’s approaching slowly, hand raised, and Wednesday sees the wolfbane injection clenched firmly in his fist, readying a strike. Enid doesn’t notice, too distracted by her prey. 

No, no, no!

Wednesday tries desperately to call out her name, to warn her of her impending doom, but her throat is dry and tight, her lung constricted, and nothing leaves her lips but silent mouthing of syllables.

Get. up.

She’s transported back into her vision, feeling Enid’s muscles clench and cells shutting down, the pumping of her heart slowing. 

She was thinking of Wednesday when she died.

The thought does something to her. Something sharp, raw, marring and crushingly visceral.

Get up!

With enormous effort, she manages to stand, but can't take a step. He is moving too fast for her to catch up, he is going to…

She realises she’s going to have to throw the knife, which normally would be no problem whatsoever, but right now her hands are shaking wildly. Nevertheless, she has no choice in the matter. She tries to steady her throwing hand the best she can as she lets her blade fly with tremendous effort, determined to give it enough velocity to be fatal. She grunts painfully at the muscles squeezing up, her body protesting every form of movement.

Enid’s teeth tear the last hunter apart and she turns around just in time to see the chief  freeze as the impact of the knife hits him in his back, arm raised, needle in hand, a second away from striking down. 

He’s already dead when he hits the ground. 

Enid’s huge wolf eyes snap back towards Wednesday, and for the first time, their gazes meet. Her savage eyes soften at the sight of her bloodied roommate, and for a moment neither of them moves, frozen on the battlefield.

Wednesday’s fingers itch with the desire to reach out, to touch. To slide through the yellow fur and caress it. She realises that her hand is outstretched, reaching forward her best friend, her light. 

“Enid.” her mouth finally able to, she whispers the name like a prayer, trying to take a step closer. Something on Enid’s face breaks.

But her body it seems, has finally decided that enough is enough.

As the already blurry world fades to black, the last thing she sees is Enid running towards her, body shrinking, bones snapping. 

Then everything finally goes dark.

***

When she catches Wednesday’s collapsing body in her arms, she is already human, fur retreating back, her senses dulling slightly. Her heart is beating frantically in her chest, the guttural worry and fear making it feel like it’s about to shatter her from the inside. She’s covered in the blood of the hunters, and this level of violence, this killing - she’s never killed anybody before - would probably make her feel horror and guilt and shame, but not now.

Not after what they did to Wednesday.

She catches her and she feels way too light, even for her werewolf strength, and Enid wonders with a terrified thought if she’s lost enough blood to be noticeably lighter.

“Wednesday!” she sobs, arms immediately encompassing the already unconscious psychic, body limp in her hold. She’s barely just shifted back, but she can already feel tears running down her cheeks.

“What were you thinking, what the hell were you thinking?!” she shrieks, screams, voice breaking, her mind spiraling with rage and fear and worry and love-

Wednesday is pale, paler than usual which is horrifying. Her entire body is covered in blood, cuts and bruises, and Enid desperately tries to calm down so she can help her, so she can figure out what to do. 

“What did they do to you?” she whines pathetically, her subsiding rage building inside her again, pumping blood harshly into her ears.

She’s kneeling naked on the cold ground in late autumn but she doesn’t care, doesn’t even feel the cold. She lowers Wednesday down, putting one arm around her back, holding her head up with her other hand.

“Wednesday! Wake up, please, I’m here, it’s okay, we did it, I’m here now…” she sobs into the shorter girl's shoulder hysterically, then realises that her other shoulder is still bleeding profusely. The bullet obviously pierced something major. 

How much blood can a 5 foot 2 girl lose before it’s too late?

The thought comes to her mind, sudden and terrifying. She quickly puts pressure on the injury.

Wednesday is colder than she should be. She’s usually as cold as cadaver. Now, she’s basically freezing.

Enid has no clothes, no phone, and by the time she can carry Wednesday back to the school she’ll probably die either from blood loss, cold, or the severity of her injuries.

“No, no, no, no, what do I do? Wednesday what do I do?” She screams, desperate, trying to put pressure on the bleeding wound on her roommate's shoulder with her hand. “What would Wednesday do, what would Wednesday do?” She murmurs to herself.

She would keep it together, she would do the most logical thing possible, she would figure this out.

Why did she have to come out here, why didn’t she fight, why did she…?

Why, why why??

She sees Wednesday twitch in pain even in her unconscious mind, and her heart breaks at the sight of her broken and vulnerable body in her arms.

Then the solution comes to her mind suddenly, like lightning crackling in a quiet night.

The cave.

The cave she sometimes uses to transform when she escapes the rules and confines of the Lupin cages, the cave where she has hidden supplies, clothes, and…

A first aid kit.

She doesn’t know if she would be able to patch up Wednesday properly, but she has to try. She has no other choice.

“I’ve got you.” she whispers, softly caressing Wednesday’s forehead and brushing her sweaty and messy bags out of her eyes. “I’ve got you, you’re going to be fine, I promise.” she carefully lifts her up into her arms, and the seer lets out a pained groan in response.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Tears are still running down her cheeks steadily, but at that sound, she feels the stream of them quicken, her heart breaking all over again. “I’m so sorry.”

She runs towards the cave, Wednesday still feeling way too light in her arms.

She tries to block out the tiny sounds of pain, noises she’s never heard, never wished to hear coming out of her best friend’s mouth.

It’s a useless attempt.

Chapter Text

The cave is dark, but it’s warmer than the outside. It has a small opening and a big space inside, giving it a cozy vibe, which is why it’s always been Enid’s favorite. Why she uses it to transform. Why she packed her emergency kit here.

And if this isn’t an emergency, she really doesn’t know what is.

She is so scared, so so angry with Wednesday for what she did. For what she tried to do. But she has no time for anger. She has to help her.

Wednesday hasn’t woken up during the five minutes that Enid spent marching through the woods, running the mile between the clearing and the caves way faster than she thought she was capable of barefoot and naked with a small human in her arms. Enid ducks through the small entrance, taking care not to bump any of Wednesday’s already damaged body parts into the wall.

Once she’s in, she hastily but gently puts her down on a part of the ground that seems less sharp than all the other parts. She fishes out the clothes first and it takes her about 10 seconds to pull on a soft jumper and some pants, so she doesn’t freeze to death before she can even attempt to patch Wednesday up-

The next second she’s already reaching into the hole in the wall where she had hid the first aid kit, rushes back to the psychic, and falls unceremoniously on her knees next to her.

“Okay, I can do this.” she murmurs, trying to hold back the tears that stopped only a minute ago.

Wednesday looks so broken.

Okay, the tears are back. Fuck. 

She clumsily opens the kit, and realises that she would have to cut Wednesday’s clothes off at least partially to access her wounds clearly. The thought scares her, as the brunette is already way too cold. She grabs a blanket and covers Wednesday’s legs, which seem to be not in a horrible condition, at least considering how her upper body looks like. She takes care not to let the blanket touch her skin, as it is (of course) bright pink, and she really doesn’t want to cause an allergic reaction right now.

She sees some black residue on her bruised, unconscious face and puts some things together in her brain.

She must have had one of those awful visions again.

Fuck.

She notices that her own arms and hands are covered in the blood of the hunters and quickly takes some wet wipes and starts to clean them off, not wanting to infect Wednesday wounds. She’s sure that having at least somewhat clean hands is important when you do first aid. She almost rips off a nail in her haste to get the blood and dirt off her hands.

She takes the scissors from the kit, and as carefully as she can, starts cutting up Wednesday’s jumper and then her undershirt at her injured shoulder, wincing as she has to peel the material off like skin, as it is sticking to her bloody arm. The worst part is directly next to the injury, and Wednesday winces when Enid pulls the fabric off. Enid whispers quiet apologies, stroking her head softly. The wound is ugly and still oozing blood.

She quickly takes some gauze and puts a good amount of disinfectant on it before pressing it firmly to the wound. She raises Wednesday up slightly with one arm, so the shoulder is completely off the ground, and starts wrapping bandages around it with the other. She tries to make it tight enough so the blood won’t get through. She thinks she remembers that’s how it’s supposed to be done.

She’s surprised to realise that the sight of blood doesn’t make her pass out anymore like when she was sixteen. Too much shit has happened, she guesses. Wednesday will be proud if - WHEN. When she gets better.

She finishes bandaging the wound, murmuring sweet nothings into Wednesday’s ear which would probably make her roll her eyes if she was awake. She’s relieved to see the wound taken care of, at least temporarily, as it was the one that worried her the most out of everything. Too much blood. 

Must have hit some artery or something… no, vein. Wednesday had said, the vein is low pressure, the artery is high and fast flowing. She was monologuing about a murder case, something about missed evidence. Enid’s heart clenches fondly at the memory.

She checks the head wound and is relieved to see that it already stopped bleeding. Still she should clean it later, once she is done with the more important stuff. 

Like the damn stabwounds.

The hunters had obviously slashed Wednesday with knives several times, and it makes Enid’s blood boil. Only one of them looks particularly alarming though, and it doesn’t seem too deep, it’s still bleeding steadily.

“Shit, I’ll have to stitch that up.” she murmurs to herself. She cuts off the clothes at her side as well, realising that she should have just cut it off completely in the first place. As she peels off the fabric, Wednesday's abdomen, chest and sides are finally revealed, and Enid gasps in horror. 

She should have been faster.

There are dark bruises everywhere, so much that she can barely see any unharmed skin. She wonders if Wednesday’s ribs are broken and almost throws up when she realises she would have no idea how to treat that.

So she focuses on the cuts. She cleans them all dutifully, before realising she can’t put off the stitching any longer, and starts to get the needle out of its bag with a shaky hand when Wednesday stirs. 

Well, she does more than stir. She gasps loudly and half sits up before falling backwards, like she couldn’t quite get there.

“Wednesday!” Enid screams, dropping everything and trying to hold Wednesday down at places where she isn't injured, but the seer starts trashing and fighting in her hold, desperate and panicky.

“Wednesday! It’s okay!” she whines, trying to hold the shorter girl still before she can make her injuries worse.

“It’s okay, it’s just me, you’re safe!” The words seem to finally reach Wednesday’s ears, and she stops trashing, looking up into Enid’s eyes with a wild, dazed expression, recognition flashing. “I’m here.”

Wednesday’s mouth moves, but nothing seems to come out. Enid holds out her hand and gently palms her cheek, moving her thumb back and forth. Wednesday tries to speak again, and a soft, raspy word leaves her lips weakly.

“Enid.”

“Yes.” Enid lets out a wet laugh, endlessly happy to hear Wednesday’s voice. “Yes, it’s me, I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Wednesday frowns, obviously disoriented. She tries to center herself.

“Where…” The low word leaves her throat so quietly that if Enid wasn’t a werewolf, she might not have heard it.

“We’re in a cave. I use it sometimes for transforming back whenever I skip the Lupin cages.” Enid responds softly, still stroking Wednesday’s face. “I’m trying to… I have a first aid kit. I'm trying to fix you up. I bandaged your shoulder already, it was bleeding very badly. You are… I need to… “ Her whole body wrecks with a sudden sob, voice breaking. “Oh Wednesday, what were you thinking?”

Wednesday blinks up at her slowly, and Enid isn’t sure she heard her properly at all.

“Are- are you alright?” the seer finally murmurs, and Enid’s heart shatters.

“Me?” She’s laughing again, but only to stop herself from screaming. “I’m fine, it’s you who…” she trails off, no idea how to even finish her sentence.

“I need to stitch you up Wens.” she sniffs, trying to be brave for her friend. “You have a bigger cut on your side, not too deep but it still looks bad, very bad.”

Wednesday still looks at her dazed, as if she can’t believe Enid is there in front of her.

“You’re alive.” She breathes quietly, eyes cloudy, and Enid starts to worry about something else.

“Shit…” she murmurs, “Do you have a concussion?” she asks, hastily taking another look at her head. The wound is ugly. “What the hell did they hit you with?” 

“He had a bat.” Wednesday replies conversationally. The blood pumping in Enid's veins boils with rage. She realises she’s growling, and Wednesday just keeps looking at her with those dazed eyes, the blood and black stuff already dry on her face.

Enid tries to calm her raging wolf.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She holds up four, and Wednesday’s eyes narrow in concentration as she looks at them.

“Four.” she says after a few seconds.

“That… took a while. Shit.”

“I was correct. There was no established time limit. I passed your test.” Wednesday says, looking pleased with her performance.

“That’s not how this- whatever, I really need to stitch up your side. Like right now, preferably before you freeze. Okay?” Enid says softly, and is relieved to see Wednesday nod. She reluctantly lets go of her roommate’s cheek.

(The fact that Wednesday is allowing this without complaint is actually really alarming, but she’ll take it.)

Wednesday is looking over Enid’s body, eyes moving up and down, obviously trying to access her injuries. But all Enid has are a couple of surface wounds, and the blood that still covers her in places almost entirely belongs to the hunters she had killed.

“I’m fine, Wednesday.” she says quietly, reassuring. “They were so surprised to see me they could hardly react. They didn’t expect me to show up.” She picks up the needle and the thread again. “And you helped me. They couldn't stand a chance against the two of us.”

Because even though Wednesday had looked on the verge of death, she still got up, she still helped Enid kill those bastards. Enid could see that she was in pain, dizzy and fading. But she stood up, threw her knife and saved Enid’s life, even though it obviously took her a tremendous amount of effort to do it. The thought makes Enid want to scream at her and hug her at the same time.

She begins stitching up the injury, slowly and carefully. She’s never done this before, and she at last feels some amount of sickness as she pinches the skin and readies herself with a deep breath. She gives Wednesday a soft warning before she goes in with the needle. The metallic smell of blood which had been slightly fading since she bandaged the shoulder hits her nose hotly.

She manages to get through the first few stitches without much problem, fighting down bile. Wednesday doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch or show any kind of indication that her skin was currently being sewn together, other than a light trembling and the sweat glistering on her forehead. She’s gritting her teeth, her eyes are open, staring at Enid with open admiration in her eyes that she would definitely not allow Enid to see under normal conditions.

“It’s okay, you know.” she says quietly. “If it hurts. I’m not- I won’t…” she breathes deeply, trying to find the right words. “You don’t have to hide from me.” Wednesday doesn’t respond with anything other than a slow blink. Enid goes in with another stitch, then another, and Wednesday lets out a quiet gasp of pain. Her body relaxes slightly, seemingly calming at the notion of not having to hold it in, to perform. Then she tenses again, probably because she realises she’s being vulnerable in front of another person. Even if it is Enid.

“It’s okay.” Enid repeats, already halfway through the wound. She thinks she’s getting better. “You’re doing so good. Stay with me.”

“This is nothing.” Wednesday murmurs, but her voice is unusually raspy. “I’ve had worse from playing with Pugsley when he was 5.”

Enid sincerely doubts that, but lets the lie fly. She continues slowly, looping the thread and pulling it tight. She messes up the next one, going too deep, the angle too sharp, and Wednesday jerks in her hold.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry.” she apologizes frantically, pulling the needle out and  righting her angle. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Wednesday closes her eyes, doesn’t open them again, and Enid immediately starts to panic.

“Wednesday, hey - don’t - stay with me, don’t fall asleep!” Wednesday slowly opens her eyes, but it looks like an effort.

“I’m here.” she says weakly, and Enid relaxes slightly. She tries to finish up quickly, but doesn’t want to mess up again. She suspects she may have gone too deep with the first few stitches as they bleed more than the others. She wipes it away shakily.

When she finally finishes, her relief is palpable. She starts cleaning the other smaller cuts and injuries with the antiseptic, taking great care, using band aids to cover up the ones that are still bleeding. Wednesday’s breath comes out quickly and unevenly, and she’s even paler than before. What bothers Enid most however is how cold she is. Her shirt and jumper are in pieces beneath her back, and the temperature has only gotten lower. 

“Wait here a moment.” Enid says, standing up. She’s startled to see alarm on Wednesday's face as she steps away, so she reassures her quickly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting you some clothes.” The alarm fades from Wednesday’s face, and is quickly replaced by shame. Enid gives her a kind smile. “It’s okay.”

She goes back to the clothing pile and starts hastily shifting through them. All colorful.

“Did you take your allergy pills today?” she asks, and is not surprised to see Wednesday shake her head. Of course not. Wednesday hasn’t even slept and barely ate in the last three days, why would she remember her medication specifically? 

It’s okay though. Because Enid has something that won’t cause any allergic reactions to Wednesday, and she knows this for a fact.

Because it belongs to her.

Enid shyly picks up the black hoodie and brings it over to her, kneeling down again. Wednesday frowns.

“That’s mine.” Enid flushes.

“I know.”

“I’ve been looking for that.”

“I know that as well.”

Her eyes snap up at hers.

“You took it.”

“Are we just gonna state obvious facts now or are you gonna put it on?” she says impatiently when she sees another shudder pass through the freezing seer. “Preferably before you get hypothermia. You didn’t even put on a coat for God's sake.” She reprimands.

It takes both of their efforts to sit Wednesday up and then about a full minute to get her into the hoodie without tearing the stitches. Wednesday raises her hands, allowing Enid to pull the material over her carefully. It’s obvious that it bothers her that she needs help dressing up, but Enid won’t let her stupid pride get in the way of warming her up. She takes another fuzzy blanket (it’s yellow) and covers Wednesday’s upper body above the hoodie.

“Careful not to touch it directly.” she frets. Wednesday looks disgusted at the colorful material covering her, but doesn’t complain out loud.

“Why did you steal my clothes?” Wednesday asks, and Enid sighs.

“Is this really the most important thing right now?” Wednesday glares at her, but it’s not as forceful as it should be which is slightly alarming actually, so Enid humors her. “It’s just a hoodie. And I took it because…” Enid flushes again and Wednesday looks intrigued at her hesitance.

“Because it helps. Familiar things. You know, it’s why I take so much glittery stuff to my cage. It helps you stay more human, more in control. And that jumper is yours and it smells like you and-” her face is burning up, shit, why is she still talking? ”And it helps.” she finishes lamely.

Wednesday blinks. The blinking is actually worrying Enid now. It doesn’t seem like the raven is going to respond to Enid’s embarrassing confession, so she just goes on.

“It came handy though didn’t it?” she asks with a false cheer, motioning towards her hoodie. Wednesday keeps looking at her, and she is yet again worried about a concussion. “How are you feeling?” She asks gently, scooting closer, as always, finding comfort in the proximity of her. “Are you in pain?” Stupid question, she thinks a second later. Of course she is.

“I’m fine.” Wednesday answers stubbornly, and Enid scoffs. 

“You’re lying.” she sighs and takes a wet wipe from her kit, reaching out towards Wednesday’s face. Wednesday jerks back and the wolf stills.

“Let me clean up your face, Wens. Please.” It’s covered in dried blood and black stuff and Enid hates looking at it, hates the horrible reminders they gave her. She waits for a consenting nod before reaching out again, gently wiping off the blood from her forehead, cheek, then jaw. She has to scrub a little at some places. 

She doesn’t think Wednesday would have allowed this before. No, she would have refused, would have told Enid to leave her alone, that she can do it herself or that she preferred her face with the blood on (that is probably still true).

But now, she allows it. She doesn't pull away.

Closer.

She can feel Wednesday’s ebony eyes looking at her again, but doesn’t look back, afraid of what the psychic might find in her gaze. Instead she focuses on her face, switching out the bloody wipe for a clean one and focusing on the black residue now. It comes off a lot more easily than the blood.

“You had a vision again.” she murmurs quietly. She is happy to see that Wednesday’s shaking has subsided now that she’s bandaged and clothed.

“Yes.”

“About me.” It isn’t a question. Wednesday sighs dejectedly.

“Yes.” Enid finally finishes cleaning her face, and dares to look up. With Wednesday in a sitting position now, their faces are a lot closer to each other, and she can feel the psychic’s breathing on her cheek.

“And you decided the solution was to come after me and get yourself killed?” she asked scowlingly, voice low, her anger rising again.

Wednesday frowns. “I was trying to save you.”

“By pretending to be me? By giving yourself up?” she snaps, reaching out blindly and holding the black hoodie tightly in her fist at Wednesday’s chest, crumbling the material roughly. “Are you out of your mind?”

You almost died for me.

Wednesday doesn’t rise to her anger. Maybe she’s too weak for it. She simply stares at her, with a faraway look in her eyes, and Enid has no idea what to do with all this rage, what to do with her-

“You were running from them.” she finally says, and Enid stills. “You were hurt. I was inside your mind, I felt him push the needle into you,  I-” she stutters uncharacteristically.

“I saw you… I felt you die-”

“Wednesday…”

“You were thinking of me.”

Oh.

Oh.

Of course Enid would be thinking about Wednesday during her last moments. No big deal. Absolutely normal. She’s not freaking out because of that knowledge at all.

With a pang in her chest, she wonders if Wednesday was also thinking of Enid when she was lying in that glade. When she stared up at the barrel of that gun.

She knows she did. She doesn’t know how she knows. She just does.

It does something to her.

“You still shouldn’t have done that.” She says stubbornly. “If you had died…”

I can’t imagine my life without you.

Wednesday frowns at her. Sitting like this face to face suddenly feels very intimate. She could lean forward an inch and their noses would touch.

She feels embarrassed at the thought.

“You’re a hypocrite." Wednesday says evenly.

“Excuse me?”

“You would have done the same.”

Enid sucks in a breath. 

“You have done the same for me.” Wednesday says, more quietly, and Enid can’t even deny it.

She had run into the forest before, during that blood moon, trying to save Wednesday’s life from a monster without knowing if she could wolf out. She had given up her humanity, her life for her, just to save her from that grave Isaac had buried her in. So who is she to judge, to be angry?

But she just can’t help it. Can’t accept that.

“Promise me, you won’t do that again.” Her voice cracks. She realises she’s still clenching Wednesday’s sweater in her hand. She doesn’t let go. “Promise me.” She tries to be as assertive as possible, looking deep into Wednesday’s endlessly brown eyes.

“I can’t promise that.” she says, eyes darkening with something Enid can’t put a name on. She feels her rage bubble to the surface again at the stubborn answer.

“You have no right.” She hisses angrily. “No right to decide that my life is more important than yours.” 

“I have every right.” Wednesday says it easily, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m your pack.”

And Enid’s heart bursts.

Chapter Text

Capri said I didn’t have to face this alpha business on my own. That my strength is in my pack.

But the truth is,  you are my pack, Wednesday.

***

When Enid was 6, her mother told her that the pack was the single most important thing in her life. That Enid had a duty. A duty to be loyal and faithful to her pack. That it was her family. It would always come first. Even before her own needs.

“The pack protects each other.” she had said, and Enid’s little star filled eyes widened in wonder. She loved the idea. Protection, loyalty. Connection. Love.

Never having to be alone. Because Enid always hated to be alone. Hated to be the one left behind.

“Once you wolf out, you will be fully part of the pack.” Her mother continued, and Enid had felt her little heart ache and her stomach drop. 

Why couldn’t she already be part of it though? If the pack protects their own, wouldn’t she, or others who can’t wolf out yet, need that protection the most? If the pack was family, why wasn’t she already considered to be one of them? Wasn’t she family?

She cried herself to sleep that night. She wasn't  sure why. Her young mind couldn’t possibly comprehend all the complex feelings dancing around in her heart.

Then she grew, and as the years progressed, her wolf still slept soundly inside her and her mother’s disappointment steadily grew. She was 10 when the claws came out. Raw happiness blossomed in her chest at the sight of them, and it was like the sunshine coming from her window increased tenfold. She squealed, running to her mother proudly, showing off the claws with a huge beam on her face. 

Her mother had looked up, not saying anything for a moment, then gave her a smile so forced and strained that even the young child could easily notice its falseness. She felt her own face fall at the sight.

“That is really nice honey. It is the very first step, you’ll see. It was the same with your brothers. Theirs came out much earlier of course.” She trailed off. Her smile became even more strained and Enid ran back to her room, not wanting her mother to see the fresh tears bubbling up.

What if she never became a real part of the pack? Would she die alone?

At school, the teacher asked everybody about their biggest wish for Christmas that year. Her classmates wanted toys, sweets or money. She wanted her family, her mother, to accept her. To join their pack. To not be alone anymore.

She told the teacher she wanted a unicorn. He just rolled his eyes at her answer.

The years went by, and she still couldn’t wolf out. Her mother started to talk about lycanthropy camps. Enid refused every time.

She started attending Nevermore when she was 14. There was a pack at the school as well of course. Enid already knew that. All her brothers were part of it. They bragged about it to Enid endlessly. But the school pack didn’t care about her. They didn’t give a shit about her colorful claws or her positive personality or her helpful smile.

All she ever got from them was insults and mocking, and the pressure built, the dam  filled, the walls breaking inside her.

She had expected protection. Loyalty. Love. All the things her mother had talked about when she was little. She got none of it. She had to survive alone. 

She was 16 when she met Wednesday Addams and her world turned upside down. 

Wednesday was rude and condescending. She was her new roommate, and she immediately destroyed half of the window that Enid had spent so much time decorating. Literal hours.

It was a full moon that night, and Wednesday asked her why she wasn’t out with the other wolves. Enid told her.

Told her she was unable to run with the pack. That she could die alone.

She expected insults, offending remarks about her weakness. But Wednesday didn’t mock her. She told her a personal story from her childhood. She said that dying alone sounded perfect to her.

Enid told her that she sucked at cheering people up, which was a lie. Because Enid did feel a lot better afterwards.

She’s grown to like the new window.

They won the Poe cup together. They were always side by side. They became best friends.

Enid’s wolfed out during the blood moon to save the raven’s life. And Wednesday had hugged her. She will never forget how it felt to be hugged by Wednesday Addams.

And she was suddenly popular, not just for wolfing out, but for saving the school. The pack members who wouldn’t give her a second glance before, came to her room to howl at the ceiling together. They let her sit with them during lunch. The guy who didn’t even know her name the previous year suddenly wanted to spend time with her.

Her mother was ecstatic, telling her how proud she was, how happy it made her that Enid was finally a true member of the pack.

And Enid had everything she’d ever wanted. She was happy.

Right?

Right?

So why did she feel so empty?

Why wasn’t she enough before? 

Why was the love her mother finally showed her, the love she had always craved since she was small, so unappealing now? Unwanted? It took her a while to figure it out.

Because it has always been conditional.

It was different with Wednesday. Wednesday had treated her the same, even before she wolfed out. She had had endless opportunities to bring up Enid’s insecurity, her fear of abandonment, her inability to wolf out, during that first big argument on her 16th birthday. 

She never did.

It turned out that she was an alpha. Because of course she was. Why couldn't Enid ever catch a break?

And when she was standing afraid and terrified in her cage, facing the possibility of never being able to turn back, Wednesday standing right before her, bars of the cell separating them, she finally understood.

You are my pack.

You give me protection. Loyalty. Love.

So she told her.

And Enid finally felt safe. Felt like she belonged.

“If I wolfed out and couldn’t  - you know -  change back. Would you come and find me?”

“I have no problem hunting you down.”

Was it then that she realised she was in love with Wednesday? She thinks it might have been.

Then Wednesday got buried alive. And Enid had no choice. No choice but to save her. To turn for her. She couldn't let her die.

Wednesday did hunt her down. Spent the entire summer trying to turn her back. And she did. She kept her promise. 

They hugged again. Enid never wanted to stop. Never wanted to pull away from the warm embrace.

She wasn’t sure if Wednesday understood the implications of what Enid had told her. That she was her pack.

Not part of it. Not a member of it. No. She defined it.

She also wasn’t sure how seriously Wednesday took her words. Did she think Enid was just being sappy and emotional? Probably. Did she understand how she was the center of everything, the reason, the one constant that Enid wanted, needed in her life? That she was the only one who really mattered?

Enid didn’t think so. Not until this moment.

But now she’s staring into pure black eyes, darkened by something intense she can’t put a name on, hiding out in a cave in the middle of the night with her best friend who is beaten and bloody and fucking stabbed and shot because she just tried to give her life for Enid’s. Who just told her very clearly, that she understood perfectly well what Enid had meant in the cage all those months ago.

“I’m your pack.”

Not a question. Just a fact. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like the sound of it isn’t tearing apart Enid’s entire world, turning her inside out and ripping her soul into tiny pieces before putting it back together.

She tries to process, to react, but her brain won’t respond. All she knows is that at this very moment her stomach is filled with butterflies and she is unable to think straight. 

“You’re crying.” The words sound far away, and Enid has to blink a couple times to clear her head. For a moment she’s so dazed that she can’t put meaning behind them.

“What?” She asks, voice high and breathless, and Wednesday frowns.

“You’re crying.” Wednesday says again, factually. “You’re upset.”

That first day comes back to Enid’s mind again.

Why are you crying?

Because I’m upset.

“No, I’m not upset.” she says wetly, trying to reassure the seer.

“Then why are you crying?”

What is she supposed to say?

I’m crying because you gave me everything I ever wanted. 

Because you show me more loyalty than my own family ever had.

I’m crying because I love you. 

Probably not a good idea. She has no clue how Wednesday would react to a full blown love confession right now, but she is way too terrified to try and find out.

So she presses her forehead against Wednesday’s and holds her stolen hoodie in her fist, pulling them closer together.

“You’re right. You are my pack. Which means you’re not allowed to die. Because I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”

Fuck, that is starting to sound like a love confession. She needs to stop spurting out all these truths before she chases Wednesday away.

Although maybe it’s already too late because Wednesday’s eyes widen and her breath catches almost imperceptibly. She leans away, their foreheads separating.

Fuck it.

“You’re my pack, which means I need you.” she whispers. “So you can’t do shit like that ever again, because if you die - I- I will bring you back and kill you all over again.” She rushes out the words quickly, before she can chicken out.

The raven stares at Enid silently for a moment. Then she smiles.

Holy shit.

Enid can count on one hand how many times she has seen Wednesday smile, and most of those were incredibly slight twitches of the very side of her mouth that lasted approximately 0.0001 seconds, which Enid had only counted because she was very generous with the definition of a smile.

Not this one. This one is wide and full and it gives Wednesday’s eyes a spark she has never seen before. Enid feels her mouth hang open at the sight of it.

“Oh my god.” She whispers in wonder, and Wednesday actually rolls her eyes like how dare she, she almost just caused Enid to have a heart attack, again, like what the actual fuck-

Wednesday reaches for something and the next moment she’s grabbing Enid’s chin and guides it to face her full on. (Downwards. Because she’s adorably short.) She raises a hand and the wolf feels tapping on her cheek.

“What are you-”

“It’s your turn.” Wednesday interrupts her, and Enid realises that she’s now also using the wet wipes to clean Enid’s face, the same way she had done for her.

Oh.

Oh okay.

Yeah she can totally deal with this. Totally deal with Wednesday sitting in front of her, face inches from her own, tenderly removing the blood of the people who tried to end their lives only hours ago, while Enid is currently having a meltdown about how much she loves her and needs her in her life. How they are actually a pack.

Yeah, she can handle that. Surely.

Surely.

Wednesday’s expression is full of concentration and focus as she meticulously cleans Enid’s face, taking care not to miss a single spot. Because she never does anything without doing it perfectly and to the best of her abilities. It is one of the many things Enid admires about her. Enid fixes her gaze somewhere on her right ear, because she’s not sure she can resist leaning closer and kissing Wednesday’s bruised face off if she starts staring into those pretty dark eyes again.

Still, the need for contact, to touch is still there and having Wednesday’s hoodie in her hand and Wednesday’s hand on her chin holding her up is intoxicating but not enough - so she reaches out to touch the psychic’s blanket covered knee with her hand. She thinks she can feel the gentle hands falter just for a millisecond before continuing their work. The air feels unusually thick around them. Suddenly she can’t stand the silence and she has to say something.

“You did save me.” she says. “In the end. I didn’t see him coming. That wolfbane would’ve killed me.” Just like in her vision. “You saved me.” her voice rings through the cave, grateful and loving.

Wednesday’s hands definitely falter this time, and Enid’s eyes snap to hers involuntarily. When their gazes meet Enid can feel the air thicken even more, so much so that she’s not sure gravity is a thing anymore, but it must be, of course it must be because it’s pulling her towards Wednesday’s orbit with the speed of light-

“You saved me first.” Wednesday whispers, and again, Enid can feel her breath dancing on her skin because they are so close, and Enid’s entire body is flushed. She glances down at the raven’s lips for a milisecond, before her eyes jump back up nervously, and holy fuck is Wednesday actually blushing right now, because Enid wasn’t even sure she had enough blood to do that at the moment, and the next time Wednesday’s hand touches her face she can definitely feel a light shake, making the overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss her lips even more unbearable-

Then a thought makes Enid come back to Earth very suddenly. Wednesday is hurt. She is hurt and probably exhausted and it’s because of Enid, and all she can think about is kissing her like the stupid hormonal teenager that she is, and suddenly Enid is full of guilt and shame, because what if she’s taking advantage-

She leans back, trying to create a distance between their faces, apology already on her lips, but the distance doesn’t grow, not at all, because Wednesday is leaning closer and now her eyes are on Enid’s mouth and Enid freezes, thoughts leaving her brain completely and replaced by a distant screaming of desire and joy and then-

Wednesday’s lips touch hers, barely, hesitantly, just the smallest of brushes and it is so careful, and Enid loses her mind completely. She pulls closer without a thought, and that faintest touch becomes a full blown contact as her lips slide fully over Wednesday’s. They are cold and soft, and Enid hears herself letting out a soft whine in relief, because fucking finally.

Wednesday probably hears it because she huffs, and the next second her palm is covering Enid’s cheek tenderly, pulling her even closer, and positioning one of Enid’s lips between her own. The werewolf can feel her heart beating hard, feels herself panting against her roommate's lips, and she grabs hold of that black hoodie again, using it to pull herself flush against Wednesday’s body, as close they can be while sitting like this, and it makes something flare up deep within her gut. She can hear Wednesday give a tiny noise and the raven opens her mouth slightly in surprise. Enid takes full advantage of this, fueled by that tiny noise, and deepens the kiss.

Wednesday’s breath hitches and Enid’s hammering heart skips a beat - no two actually - at the sound.

She feels like she’s been waiting her whole life for this. All the previous kisses and touches from boys fade like they’ve never happened because none of them felt like this. 

Like a breath of fresh air after she’s almost drowned. Like salvation.

When Wednesday pulls away, she’s already missing the feeling. They look at each other in wonder, both panting and flushed, and Enid should say something romantic right now, something beautiful to woo Wednesday’s novelist heart, and Enid’s brain comes up with,

“Hi.” 

Seriously? 

But Wednesday doesn't seem to mind. Instead she gives her another smile - like holy shit, two in one day - and replies,

“Howdy.” with a low and teasing voice, and Enid can’t help it. She bursts into laughter.

She’s never felt happier than this moment, her joy mixing with the overwhelming relief that they are both alive and together.

She raises her hands and cups Wednesday’s face with both, leaning back into her, stopping about half an inch from her face. Wednesday kisses her again. This time it’s her that deepens it.

She feels her trying to move even closer, as if she’s gonna get up from her sitting position and for one incredible moment Enid thinks she might actually climb into her lab or something similarly wonderful. 

But then Wednesday groans, and it is decidedly not the kind of groan Enid would want to hear in that moment, and her eyes pop open, pulling back quickly to look her raven over. She is frowning and her eyes are shut tight. Enid’s stomach drops.

“Shit, shit, shit, are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I should have- I shouldn't have-” she stammers, frantic and panicky, but Wednesday puts a finger on her lips, opening her eyes.

“I’m fine. Calm down, Enid.” she says, but Enid can see her wincing.

“I’m taking you back to the school.” She decides. “You need a doctor or a nurse at least.” Wednesday seems to disagree with that, based on her expression.

“Your handiwork is acceptable. I’m not going to keel over. I am fine.”

“Yeah? Because you don’t look it. And we’re Pack, so we have to look out for each other, and I am taking you back to Nevermore, straight to the infirmary.” Enid says firmly, and Wednesday’s tough expression falters when she refers to them as pack. “Let me take care of you.” She pleads, and Wednesday nods reluctantly, in acceptance. Enid loves her for it.

She puts a tender kiss on her forehead which makes the psychic actually look slightly flustered for a moment. Enid smirks affectionately. She pulls both of them to their feet and tries to gather Wednesday into her arms, but she protests weakly, standing shakily up on her own.

“I can walk.”

She takes two full steps before she’s in Enid’s arms again, knees collapsing.

“Clearly.” She hooks one arm around her best friend’s back, the other behind her knees, and lifts her up without a problem. Are they best friends? Or girlfriends now? Enid has no idea. She’ll worry about that later. Wednesday looks at her petulantly. “Don’t pout.” She says fondly.

“I never pout. An Addams doesn't pout.” She says, and Enid laughs. 

“That’s good then.” 

She starts walking, holding Wednesday close and firm. The seer finally relents and turns her face into Enid’s shoulder, her hand coming up to clutch at her jumper with her fingers. Enid melts at the sight.

“I’ve got you.” She says softly, holding her even closer.

“I know.” Wednesday murmurs, voice full of trust, as if she never needed any convincing of that fact.

She’s careful not to bump Wednesday’s head as she ducks out of the cave. She sees light shining through the trees.

It’s dawn.