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Wednesday realizes instantly. She looks down at herself after she comes back from the vision and sees so much emotion on her face that she could barely recognise it.
Then, she feels the devastating weight on her shoulders, a pressure in her guts telling her she's being watched. A presence so deep in the darkness she would hum to herself in delight if it wasn't everywhere, crawling up Tyler's spine like ether pushing him down and down. It's so excruciating she wants to scream with all her lungs.
"Wednesday" she hears her voice saying, but the monotone she's used to isn't there. There's caring and caution as if the person in her shoes was approaching a dangerous yet terrified creature. "Wednesday, listen to me. You need to calm down, can you do that?"
She looks down in the same direction her original eyes are pointing - to hands that hold her petite body in a grip, skin mixed with leather and bone from sharp claws.
"You're the monster" she murmurs, raw and low, as the vision still burns in her retina as she watches her - Tyler's - hands turn to soft skin again. His tongue tasted like iron too, and she wondered if it was her mind projecting Kinbott’'s murder or if there was still blood in his throat.
Wednesday turns to her body, a face so scared and eyes so wide she wouldn't believe it's her own, demanding in one breath - "Why?"
For her total disgust, Tyler's soul had bathed her eyes in tears.
"It's-" he stuttered, the browns knitted in a way that was so Tyler but seemed foreign in her expression. "What did you see?"
"You know what" she spat, standing tall and looking down as her pathetic body cradled like a scared kid, so intrinsically different from the murderer she just witnessed. "Let me guess, Kindbott turned you into her pet to avenge her bigot family and bring terror to the whole town and you decided you wanted to be your own maste-" The air escaped her lungs as she fell on her knees as an intense wave of pain covered Tyler's body like she had been punched in the stomach with an iron glove.
"Easy, breathe in and breathe out slowly" she heard her voice commands. "It's better for both of us if he stays dormant."
Wednesday did what she was told, enough for her vision to gain focus again. A pair of midnight eyes watched her closely, dropping concern from its eyelashes. "Stop being so expressive. It's irritating."
Tyler, on the other hand, didn't follow orders, looking away at the street lights instead. "Kinbott’s not my master. She was what she looked like - an annoying therapist."
"Then who's it?"
Wednesday spotted doubt in her own eyes, a battle ongoing inside his mind that was so clear now that he had surrendered his mask. "Thornhill," he says with struggle, blinking in surprise at his achievement. "It's Thornhill. She's going to resurrect Crackstone from the grave using the bloodline of your ancestor."
"Meaning my blood," Wednesday exasperated in a sullen tone. "Were you supposed to distract me with another crypt picnic?"
She almost found comfort in watching as guilt took over her facial expression.
"Wednesday, I could distract you in many easy ways but-," Tyler stopped in a gulp, the demands of his task and months of fear and treason weighing more than the creature trapped in his human body. "I wanted to tell you. I really did. But Laurel ordered me never to speak her name and follow her commands and I- I was trapped. You know. You know more about the monster than me, you know I couldn't ."
"Let this settle for later. Now we need to stop Lau-" The air was taken from her once more, leaving her throat sore and for a moment she thought it might close, leaving her to die suffocated by nothing but a word. She felt the presence closer now like its breathing on the nape of her neck, dangerously aware that something was wrong.
"See? I told you." Wednesday brushes her neck, the eyebrows knit in annoyance. She noticed him flinch a little, and it served as a bit of solace. Even with Tyler's golden and easygoing features, she could keep her mortal death stare sharp. Good. At least she has control over something. "Don't push yourself, it took me months to even remember what happened when he took control." He inclined his head, looking at her closely. "You're ok?"
"Fine." She manages to answer. "Here's what we're going to do. We finish her before she can even put her final act ongoing. Then we solve-" she points at them generally, "whatever this is. And then perhaps you can crack your emotional morse code as a free man,” she chooses to ignore how hopeful her doll eyes stare back. "We have to play along first. Can you do that? Can you act like me?"
He raises one eyebrow.
"I think the better question is- can you? "
As astonishing as it sounds, Wednesday was left speechless. She thought she knew him, she thought it was an easy puzzle, child's play - but the smile and sympathy and carefree persona was the mask he wear day after day. Of course the first boy I kissed would turn out to be a psychotic, serial-killing monster. Guess I have a type.
She tried to rise the side of his mouth in a smile, but it all felt wrong - and the look on her original face was not very convincing either. She lets go with a frustrated groan, shaking her head and concentrating on the new muscles. On her mind was a passable performance, only to open her eyes and watch as Tyler frowned upon it.
"Let me do the talking, you just stand there pretending you're sorry for being a bad puppet," he instructed.
"So I guess I have to trust you now?" Wednesday throwback, full of resentment. Tyler knit his brows once more in his very characteristic way.
"I don't think we have much of a choice."
____________
Being in Wednesday's shoes was easier than Tyler thought it would. Not only the freedom of a relaxed face and monotonous voice, without the need of hiding in plain sight, but the oh-so glorious lightness in his shoulders he had didn't felt in forever. No voice behind his head, no claws crawling his spine, no darkness poisoning his every move. He felt so free he might as well fly.
In retrospect, it wasn't a mission that required such risk - after all, Tyler didn't think anyone’s first thought was that he was in Wednesday and she was in him, that would be way too fantastic even for the outcast-dense town of Jericho prospect. Nevertheless, Wednesday warned him about the knives she kept in thigh holsters if anything goes wrong. He did have to admit though how satisfying it was when Laurel pretended she didn't know what he was talking about.
"Kinbott was right, you're crossing the line here," she says. "You're brilliant, but your imagination is going too far."
Always trying to play things her way.
"I'm not making anything up. Tyler himself told me."
And as rehearsal, Wednesday stands at his feet, looking like a guilty dog. He sees as Laurel calculates in her head it was time to drop the act, throwing her hands up and taking off her ridiculous fake glasses. "You know what? I'm tired of playing nice." The redhead straightened her spine to look taller, looking down at him as if he was a cockroach with no clue it was going to be stepped on soon. "But you have made a terrible mistake."
Laurel slides like a serpent to where Wednesday is, singing her song in a nauseous tone, "Tyler will do everything to make me happy." Her hands caress his face, and even the unmoving personality of Wednesday's couldn't hide her discomfort in being touched in such an intimate manner. "Listen to mamma, kill her for me, would you?"
Wednesday steps back, her eyes moving from Laurel to him. Her song becomes impatient, "Tyler. Be a good boy, listen to me-"
The knife entered with a delicious sound of her words being trapped in her throat, smoothly between her ribs, right to the heart. "I am tired of listening to you," he whispered in a raw, rejoicing the absolute terror in Laurel's eyes as he stabbed her again, deeper and deeper. "I am tired of being your toy. I am tired of being a pawn in your game. I am tired of being your slave. I am tired, tired, tired!"
The knife cut to flesh and bone and muscle anew with every word, until he was kneeling above a bloody corpse. Even though he didn't have his usual strength, the adrenaline and the euphoria of the moment made it possible for him to break apart her sternum and ribs, cutting her heart out of her body. He stared at it for one long moment before slicing it into pieces with his nails. His hands were steady despite the effort, but his cheeks were wet with tears.
It was done.
He felt Wednesday kneeling beside him, holding his hand for him to stand with a tenderness very atypical of her character, looking at his art on the floor while holding him like an anchor, reminding him he was not alone.
"We need to get rid of it," she referred to the body. "Then I'll write a letter in her calligraphy, telling her she decided to go. And she will be gone forever."
Tyler disagreed with a head gesture. "It's not enough."
"Alright. Do you know where she kept the evidence?"
Tyler nodded, searching in her trousers for his own phone he was able to take on the way to the greenhouse. He stopped the recording, cutting the audio to a reasonable point.
"Some of my cleverness is intrinsic to my body after all" Wednesday bluntly pointed.
He lets air escape from his nostrils in mockery.
"Somewhere in between the lines I almost hear you say 'well done'."
"Do you, now?"
"Be mad at me as much as you want Wednesday, but you can't deny that you did look out for me today."
"I wouldn't be so fast in presuming it."
Tyler snorted, vanquished. He lets her hand go and suddenly it felt like he was thrown into an abyss.
"Oh yes, 'cause your top priority is the monster in the woods. Well, congratulations, the universe greets you with the majestic opportunity of being one and the same. Hope you two will be very happy together."
He turned his back on her, searching for something to do with his hands, looking for a bag big enough to fit all the body parts. He found some garbage-size bags by the utility closet. Wednesday's eyes - well, his eyes - were on him.
Without a word, she helped him to clean the mess. She lifts the bag on her shoulders a little too much, imbalance by her new strength - the height was not the only advantage of this deal, she noted. Being in Tyler's body gifted her with supernatural strength and amplified senses. She could see as clearly as in daylight the details on the oak, distinguish the leaves on the forest soil, hear the deep sleep of a mountain lion, the rustle made by the steps of little animals. Then she could hear the rivers of her cardiovascular system, bumping blood in and out her heart in a rhythm that calmed his own - her breathing and smell and beating heart all in a myriad of senses that sounded like a lullaby for the beast within his skin.
Deep in the woods, Tyler found the perfect space for a grave. They work in unison, the silence weighted in every action. They dug the ground and kicked the dismembered corpse pieces inside without care, then worked again to cover it. When the grave was half full that Wednesday eventually confessed,
"I don't know you. Not really. You didn't let me." She was staring at the ground but kept going. "And when I went to the cafe last night when I said I was up to…be more than friends, I also meant I wanted to know you. All of you." She looked up, and if not for circumstances, Tyler would find it adorable how puppy eyes fit on her so well. "I'm still willing to do exactly that."
Her words echoed down her ribs, a feeling of bliss taking over his flesh as if a renewed rain had fallen on her head. Her surprise might have been obvious, in Tyler's deep frown.
"Don't tell me the sleepy beauty has awake," with a nod from her, he lets a curse escape. "Luckily for us, he likes you too," he explained, matter-of-factly. Wednesday stares at him in the dark, his countenance in a sorrowful memory. "On the night Rowan attacked you, it was the first time he listened to me." He blinked, balancing his weight on the shovel. "When you told me he protected you, it really surprised me. I always thought his only goal was to destroy."
Wednesday didn't need much for realization to hit her.
"You held yourself back with Eugene."
"He's just a kid I-" he blinked again, clenching on the wood part of the shovel like an emotional support. "I never wanted to do any of it. First I, well I had no idea what happened. Then it all- it all kept coming back. The sound of their screams, the panic in their eyes. A fear so primal I could taste it. And the monster thrives into all that. Sometimes I wonder if he feeds on it."
An actual sound reverberated through Wednesday's ears, shivering Tyler's body.
"I think he just agreed to it," she pointed out.
"Don't get too close, he's a pain in the ass when he wants to."
Something in the back of his skull told her the beast had just rolled his eyes like they were old acquaintances or even complicated brothers. "You learned how to get along with him," she concluded.
"Yeah well, it was not like I had much of a choice." Tyler looked down at their work, throwing the shovel into the mud and rubbing her hands. "Either way, I'm going to find a dead animal somewhere to dismiss the searching dogs. What's next?"
"Now we show the confession to Weems. We don't see eye to eye on many topics but I have to admit she knows how to do her job, and all she wants is the best for Nevermore."
____________
The plan did not involve the normie police. Wednesday asked on their way to Nevermore if the Sheriff knew, and Tyler just shrugged, "he pretends he doesn't."
"Your infuriating normie father is-"
"An infuriating normie father." He paused. "Thornhill used information about my mother to get closer. She told me Nevermore neglected her and that you all were responsible for her death. She offered me consolation and I fell for that like a silly little rabbit."
"I imagine you didn't go willingly to that cave."
Tyler inhaled deeply, soundly, like a word of its own. "No, I didn't. I remember waking up naked in shackles, with Laurel introducing every poison in my veins, speaking with that condescending tone, touching me-" he breathed sharply through the noise, and even in the dark she knew he was crying again. And like the first time, she didn't judge him or find him annoying. Even in death, Laurel's action would keep her claws in Tyler for longer than Wednesday wanted to admit, and that thought alone was enough to nauseate her.
"Anyway," he pushes away a tear, continuing. "I was gone for three days, then I woke up covered in blood. I had absolutely no memory Then I came back home and dear old Dad thought I had tried to run away," he laughed through his nose in irony. " If only ."
Wednesday was never good at making people feel better, not with words, not with touch, not with anything really. But she felt the urge to make sure Tyler knew she was on his side and didn't hold back, grabbing his hand as they walked, her tiny hand feeling so soft against his skin that for one moment it didn't matter whose body was who's - their souls were connected and it was all that mattered.
"I thought you would hate me forever when you found out," he commented, holding her hand tighter.
"I still haven't forgiven you for lying to me."
"Fair enough," he shrugged, and by the tone of his voice Wednesday knew he had that soft irritating smile of his that could light up a whole city spread on her face.
They entered the greenhouse to put the shovels where they found them, passing through the spot where not a trace of the huge blood pool was to be seen after they cleaned it up properly. It was curfew already, so they passed through the quad to the headmistress's room without an eye to finding them in the shadows - which was a relief for all the obvious reasons, but Wednesday need to admit that she did want more people to see how handsome she looked bathed in blood by the moonlight. They were both swimming in cold sweat mixed with a thin layer of dirt, her clothes and skin with stains of dried blood and her braids were dishevelled. She wondered if the memory would be in Tyler's mind and if he would agree with her perspective of beauty. She wished his image would be caught and memorized by her eyes too, considering his appearance surely looked as gorgeous as she imagined.
At least, Wednesday had the lovely view of Weem's eyes almost popping out from her skull as she stared from head to toe the strange couple that knocked on her door late at night. As Tyler told her about their whole eventful evening, Wednesday thought she would see the director bluntly faint on the floor. For her sorrow, Weems was tougher than she seemed.
The blonde tall woman's only request was to see the evidence of their tale - and so she follows as Tyler led them to Crackstone's crypt, all the body parts of the Gates's basement strategically placed in a circle around the grave that would never open again.
Weems looked around, stopping with her hands on her hips as she watched the situation and pondered silently. "So Mr. Thorpe has been used by one of our professors, not Kindbott."
Oh. Wednesday exchanges the same look with Tyler, and they both get to the same thought - oh I forgot about that guy.
"No, actually," Tyler stopped, hating himself for having the urge to do the right thing. "The monster is Francoise Galpin's son."
Weems looks straight to Wednesday, well, Tyler's body, in a mix of surprise with sorrow, holding her chin with one hand as she goes deep in thought. So, she probably knew.
"I've heard enough," Weems concludes, resolutely. "Miss Addams get back to your dorm, you'll likely find a way to alert Mr. Galpin by morning when I've settled this." The principal raised her hand to stop Wednesday's interruption even before she could speak. "You're in a very delicate position Mr. Galpin and although I’m sure you have seen unspeakable horrors, I urge you to be patient and let me help in the best way I can.” She glares at Wednesday’s body, “And since you have sought my aid for a change, I expect you to let me do this my way.”
Wednesday had something to say about that but watched in silence as Tyler nodded, spinning in her heels to plod away to the chilling woods as if he had damaged a limb.
“You made a good decision,” Weems started before Wednesday could follow him. “And I imagine with your… condition, it was a hard thing to do.” She cocks her head indicating the door. “She recognises it too.”
Wednesday didn’t know what Tyler would say in this position, so she imitated his last action, nodding and shuffling from the crypt without a word.
_____________
Despite Weems' command, there was no way Tyler and she would be parted until they fixed their current situation. Therefore, Wednesday led him to her dorm, figuring that without Thornhill they wouldn't be stopped from getting to her room upstairs. She, however, still has to face Enid and probably needs to explain why Tyler was with her and why they were covered in blood and dirt and most importantly why they were not acting like themselves.
“Let me guess,” Tyler huffs when they reach the last floor. “This night is far from over.”
“Unless your plan is to never return to your body.”
Tyler laughs through his nose, “I’m actually quite comfortable.” And as a cue, he tugs one of her braids. “Except for it. Is it on purpose isn’t it? Pull your hair all day to give you a headache?”
“It keeps me alert” Wednesday's confirmed. “You can undo it once we get in.”
He whistles, “Try to keep your hands to yourself, Addams.”
Wednesday’s intent was to deliver her good old death stare, but as soon as their eyes meet, for the first time since the kiss, she realises she has avoided her own eyes for a reason - it was the blue sky of his she expected, not the midnight gaze. But Tyler manages to twinkle it, make her countenance his, without the skull and the sullen expression but with a ghost of a smile, hovering her maroon lips with the threat of life. Wednesday didn’t even need to shut her eyes, quite the contrary, his sunlight turned her clouded and grey soul into the moon - reflecting his bright warm light and turning a black rock rounding around space into something beautiful too.
Wednesday takes a step forward like a magnet in his core was calling for her polarity, either because of her being capable of seeing Tyler in her features or due to the overwhelming boiling attraction Wednesday was feeling in her bones, a desire was mixed with the need to rip through her ribs and fed from her heart mixed with something even more primal, something even more dangerous and filthy lurking in her brain.
She feels the Hyde thrilled when she looks down at her bangs and lips, smelling Laurel's blood and the dirt from her skin like an aphrodisiac perfume, such as cigarette smoke for an addict. Wednesday smirked with herself to his hunger - It wants me too.
“Wednesday,” Tyler called, alarmed, looking at her proximity with preoccupation. “Wednesday, what are you doing?”
“This confusion started when I kissed you, it might end when I repeat it.”
She watches as her words settle in his mind.
“Can’t argue with it,” he concluded, pressing his lips against the other. The vision made the beast inside her bones roar in satisfaction. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea”
“Why? You have managed to behave yourself quite well the first time.”
“I had time to practice,” he retorts. “I told you it’s better for both of us if the beast keeps quiet.”
“Oh so kissing me would disturb him?” she teased. Tyler snorted.
“I told you. He likes you too.”
“I’ve heard the first time. What you probably don’t know is that Hydes usually mirrors the sentiment from their hosts.”
"That much has ever been clear to me" Tyler leaned his head, and even when she was the one with his height his grin seemed to look down on her. "But I'm not there anymore, so tell me, whose feelings he's mirroring now?"
Wednesday didn't look out for an answer - she didn't have any. She said that after everything they could sit and talk as much as they want to, but now she lets herself be led by her gut attraction, slotting her lips into his as clumsy as the first time. Tyler doesn't move back, instead, he grabs the flannel lapel down, standing on his toes to be as close as possible. Wednesday responds to the touch by grabbing his ribs up, making him whine between her mouth giving her space to run her tongue over his lips, going in for a deep kiss.
With closed eyes, their current positions didn't matter, not even the height difference was important at that moment. His nails brush the nape of her neck, running a shiver down her spine and a groan finds its way out of her chest, growing when Tyler sucked her lower lip and bit it next. The heat increased in her face and her hands and in every part he had touched and those he didn't ache like a flame - Wednesday desired to slice her clothes for some peace, but a primal part of her knew she could only find what she was looking for when there were no restrictions between them when his clothes were ripped too and tossed on her bedroom floor and they become one singular thing that not even them could point where one ended and the other begins.
Unfortunately, she was spared of all her mortifications when their kiss was once again broken by a vision.
She was in Crackstone's crypt once again, now filled with officers and crime scene investigators collecting photos of the place. She sees Weems talking with a tired Sheriff in the centre of it all, but she couldn't hear their voices or the rumours around the place. The scene was silent, covered in the light of the red and blue of the police cars outside. She sees as Weems delivers a piece of paper to the Sheriff, leaving her field of vision right after. A part of Wednesday felt the urge to intervene, moving forward to read what the paper said, but she was grounded on the floor.
"Don't worry," a voice next to her broke the silence. Wednesday stares at Goody startled, her ancestors giving a rare smile. "I didn't do all this for Tyler to be blamed at the end. It will all fall on Gates' account as it should be."
"Do all that…" Wednesday repeated. "So you're the one who exchanges our places"
Goody shrugged, ignoring Wednesday's sullen tone. "I wanted him to have his revenge too," she explained, unbothered. "And don't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself a little."
Wednesday meant to answer, but Goody woke her up to find herself being stared at by wild blue eyes, curly hair, golden skin covered in dried sweat and a marvellous mix of dirt, mud and blood - she was right, he did look as handsome as she imagined.