Chapter Text
The first sense that came back to him was his hearing, the steady ticking of the clock somewhere in the room he was currently in. Not that he had any idea, where that may be, it could have been a tent even, it could have been a car. His lids were so heavy, it felt as if someone was actively pushing down on them. And he tried to open them, he really did, but nothing moved. He felt his head being attached to something, that he hoped was his body, but there was no feeling attached. Tick, tick, tick. He wished it would stop. He wished he could make it stop.
A snap next to his ear sounded off. Once. Then again. The sound echoed in his empty brain like a canon and every single nerve inside flared up, sending a wave of pain through his head. He didn't move, he didn't scream, he wasn't even breathing. If this was dying, it was worse than he had imagined. The sweet nothingness was something he had awaited, only to be met by more suffering, more helplessness, the mercy of someone else's fingers that he hoped wouldn't snap again. It was torture.
"He's regained some cognitive awareness. His heart rate sped up the slightest bit when I snapped." It was a clear female voice. One he wasn't familiar with. It scared him more than the pain, more than the fact he couldn't move. Someone towered over him, he realized as the brightness through his eye lids dimmed. Just kill me. I don't wanna know. Let me die. Get this over with. Whatever this was, he wanted no more part in it. His last memory didn't add up with this and since whatever this was, must have been a result of that memory, he knew he wasn't safe.
"Good. Note this doses as safe." Another voice. A man. Further away from him, toned down by a microphone. "Up the meds again and put him back on the ventilator." No. Just kill me, now.
"Why don't we leave him at that, if it's safe?" The voice next to him questioned. She didn't sound particularly worried for him, it sounded more like a genuine wonder. He knew the answer. This was worse than being knocked out cold. Surely, they wouldn't do that to him, being imprisoned in his own flesh.
"It's safe for now. We can't know that he stays like this long term, what if he regains muscle movement? We aren't ready, yet. We don't know what to do with him." He had misjudged, one of his greatest traits. He was held against his will, under medication, to keep him still. It seemed to him, they were only dragging out the inevitable. He was going to die, either by their hands or his own, if this was the life offered to him. The beeping of a machine was heard where he assumed this woman. Three times.
"This is only temporary. Soon, you'll be wide awake." The voice was closer to his ear now. He supposed it could have been a threat. Worse could follow. Awareness wasn't always pleasurable. But the way she said it was reassuring, almost gentle, which made him think that he might have imagined it. Was this even real? Was all of this a dream? A nightmare? His own mind punishing him? Her words had dragged out a bit as his brain slowed down, again. But just before the light beyond his eyes had faded out completely, he imagined her saying one last thing.
"You'll be alright, Tyler."
-
"Ah, I see, you have found our new addition to the altar." Gomez Addams' voice rang through the large space of the living room, as he stepped up behind her. Years ago, the room had been modified, so that every word spoken echoed through the pipes in the wall and back out into the air, giving the impression of a never ending haunting. It was Wednesday's comfort place. Nothing clears the mind like a good old fashion haunting, even if it had to be self induced. She had spent many hours in this room over the summer break, seeking inner peace.
"What is it, exactly?" She voiced, and a dozen voices followed suit. One finger hovered over the rock that had been placed in the middle of the altar. It was a generic fist size grey rock, and it wouldn't have been very interesting, if it wasn't for the crack that ran through the middle. It pulsed rhythmically and produced spurts of a dark red liquid that puddled at the bottom. Wednesday had stared at it for ten minutes straight and the liquid didn't die down, no matter the puddle growing bigger and bigger with every minute passing.
"No, idea. Your Uncle Fester sent it per mail from Amsterdam, saying it had ruined all his possessions. Don't know where it came from. Don't know what it does." Wednesday stared at her father for a moment, who looked at the rock as if it was his newborn child, full of pride and excitement. In fact, he had looked the same way just days before, when Pugsley had freed himself after being buried alive for the first time. Took him eight minutes. Wednesday had been less impressed. Her record was two minutes and eleven seconds. Anything beyond three minutes was an embarrassment. But her father was one for the little things in life.
"Do you think the rock is bleeding or something inside of it is?" Leaning forward, she took a closer look, but the pure amount of blood coming out of it, made it impossible to catch a glimpse inside. Fascinating. Her mind produced an image of Enid standing in front of the rock and no doubt, fainting at first sight. Wednesday smiled the tiniest of smile, only visible under microscope.
"I don't know. Should we crack it open?" Her father had leaned forward as well with a smile so wide, it bared all of his teeth.
"Should we crack open a bleeding rock?" She raised a brow. "Sound like an interesting way to die. I'll consider it while I'm away." Her father nodded in understanding.
"Finding reasons to look forward to coming back from school. I like it. I won't touch it, 'till your return, my little viper." In avoidance of an emotional turn of conversation, she stepped back and left her father to his rock.
"You should probably get a bucket to put under it." It was her way of saying goodbye, not that she even turned her head back to him, as she walked outside of the Addams family home. She ignored the little sob that haunted the air. Pugsley waited at the door in the wide entrance area and fiddled with his hands. He had slung his black backpack over the left shoulder and stared at the high ceiling.
"If you are planning to look this pathetic when we get to the school, I'd advise you to just stay put and stick to feeding rattle snakes with strawberries." Wednesday walked past him with quick strides, but he held on to her elbow, earning him a glare but also a brief halt.
"I do enjoy the way they look, when they realize they have accidentally eaten fruit. It makes them furious." Pugsley said fondly. Wednesday looked her brother up and down, resisted the urge to sigh in annoyance and turned back fully. It was an immaculate irony of nature, that a boy, almost impossible to kill, was filled to the brim of anxiety about rather uninspired occurrences. Such as a new school. Their parents had decided, that it would be best to send him along to Nevermore, to invoke some sort of self dependency upon him. He was in desperate need of it. But Wednesday was determined to not let him cling to her instead of their parents. It would be a backtrack of intentions and Wednesday didn't like people close to her, much less clinging to her, even if it was her own brother, arguably one of the more tolerable ones of the human kind.
"Spit it out, will you. I am certain, I will have to endure some sort of exaggerated monologue from mother, and I'd like to get to it sooner rather than later." She purposefully toned down the bite in her voice, given that he looked so desperately in need of reassurance, and it hurt a little, like the spite was stuck in her throat.
"It's just that I'm not sure I can be fully myself at a boarding school." He said, still looking at the ceiling, most definitely experiencing the joyful strain of his neck.
"And why is that?"
"Do they have poison that I can digest without being saved with an antidote?" He asked and looked at her with his big black eyes. Wednesday got the feeling that he was asking something else, but she couldn't really pinpoint, what it was, her intellect be damned.
"They have plants that can be turned into poison, I suppose. But they don't really love students dying on their grounds, even though they don't do a great job of preventing it." The school's safety measures were best described by the information printed on condom packages, they only work 97% of the time, she thought, not that she would ever say such thing out loud. To Pugsley. Oh, how Weems would turn in her grave, if she heard that.
"What if I want to play 'catch the grenade', would that be allowed?"
"Well, that's a multi player game. I'm not sure you can get these people to participate. The majority of them are rather boring." She concluded. Pugsley hummed in response, he didn't look much different from when they first started talking, but really it was his fault for looking for comfort from her, out of all people. She did sigh now. Pugsley was a sensitive boy, he didn't think or behave like Wednesday, he never did but he always made an effort to try. He understood but he wasn't one to mimic. And Wednesday had grown during the last semester, not physically and even mentally just the tiniest bit, but emotionally the growth couldn't be denied by the people who knew her. Perhaps, it was time to rely on that more, now that she was to return to Nevermore.
"Pugsley, I am going to say this once and never want to talk about it again, so make sure to remember it." She started and it pained her a little bit, she looked around to see, if anyone was around to witness this moment. Fortunately, there was not. "It seems to be a general conception and my observation, also, that you are a much more likable person than me. You are dreadfully joyous, you are always down to be hunted for sport, you are very durable and you are, what I would call weak, but others may interpret as non threatening or even kind. I am none of these things. Yet, due to no fault of my own, there are quite a few people at Nevermore, who consider themselves my friends." She glared him down, because she did not know any other way to get a point across, that would be deemed less threatening. "Do you understand what I am trying to say?"
Pugsley nodded slowly, then stuck the other arm through the sling of his backpack, finally stopping the fidgeting and instead holding onto the black material of the bag. "I think so." Good. She wanted to squish her own brain, thinking about this interaction, hopefully she'd forget about it soon. But if it had helped her little brother a little bit to fight his own demons, then maybe it would be a tolerable memory. What wouldn't be a tolerable memory, was the way a hand squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. Wednesday set her jaw at the sensation, then yanked Thing off her shoulder.
"What is it about this family, that they are always lurking around, where they aren't welcomed?" She grit through her teeth, looking at the squirming appendage, captured between her thumb and palm. He fought back, wiggled around, tensed up, but she had a death grip on this amputated hand and the only way she would let him go was to throw him out of the window. "Have you been in my bag, this whole time?" He stretched helplessly.
"He can't answer you, if you are squeezing him like that." Pugsley said helpfully but quickly bit his tongue at the look Wednesday shot him, pushing past her and hurrying out the door, knowing to stay out of a fight, he was not involved in. Especially with Wednesday. She set the hand down on lion statue next to the door. The hand shook himself like a wet dog, then coward innocently. That wasn't going to cut it for her.
"How old are you, Thing?" The hand shrugged, which was more or less a slap on the lion's head.
"That's right, you are so old that no one in this house, including yourself, knows your exact age. Yet, somehow, you are in a desperate need to go to a school full of teenagers. Sneaking into my baggage without consent to do so. Why is that?" Thing thought about it for a moment then tapped away at the lion. "You had fun last year. You can have fun here. Much less hiding, muss less teenage angst." Tap, tap. "I need you? Do I even have to respond to that?" Consideration. Then Thing pointed behind her. Lazily following his 'gaze' she realized he was pointing to Pugsley, who was leaning his forehead against the car, being miserable, no doubt. "If you wanted to help out Pugsley, why are you in my bag?" Pugsley would have dragged Thing along, the first chance he got, Wednesday on the other hand had explicitly told this hand that he shouldn't come along. Thing laid flat against the stone, before he slowly tapped again.
I want to come with YOU.
Wednesday scowled. He tapped it so earnestly and looked so defeated, that if she had known how to have an accurate emotional response, she would have given him a pat. Instead, she felt emotionally manipulated, which she could have respected, if it had been intentional. She considered it. He wasn't annoying her as much as he had in the beginning of the year, he also was a useful asset for a thief and as much as it made her uncomfortable, he wasn't an awful companion. And he wanted to come with her, for her. She didn't really know what to do with that, but she did know that Enid would have swanned over a sentence like that. Enid, her werewolf roommate, always in desperate need of love, no matter by whom. Wednesday imagined Enid would be upset, if she didn't bring Thing along, they had seemed friendly with one another. Was that enough of a reason to bring a hand along that had way too many thoughts and way too much need to make her know them. Maybe it was.
Thing seemed to catch onto that weakening of her stance quickly, because he reached for her sleeve with two fingers, then when she didn't swat him away, pulled himself onto her arm and hurried back over her shoulder, into her bag. It's like charity work, she thought and shook the feeling of not recognizing her own self anymore, by rushing out the door and into the car.
-
After an antagonizing ride to Nevermore Academy, full of her parents singing lullabies to one another and Pugsley shifting from blabbing uncontrollably to obviously quiet and back, Wednesday stretched her neck, not to relief pain from her tense muscles but to lean into it, then stepped out of the car. She had expected more dread at the sight of the building but deep down, it felt like returning to normality. She enjoyed being busy, having things to do, having rules to ignore and teachers to infuriate. It fueled her. Summer break had been a treat, like a vacation to a foreign country, which was nice until you wake up on day six and seek your own bed in your own house with your own blanket. Was this home? What a gruesome thought. She must have looked a little puzzled, staring up at the building, because she caught her mother staring at her with a small smirk. Her mother with her perfect little smile, the perfect hair, the perfect fitting dress and too much psychic ability for her own good, picked up on everything. It was infuriating. Wednesday let one muscle in her face go and her mother knew what that meant. She had missed Nevermore. Wednesday glared at her mother, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of looking elsewhere. Morticia opened her mouth slightly to release a breathy laugh and Wednesday resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a child.
"I'm surprised you didn't want to have one of your serious talks before we got here." Wednesday spat. Morticia shrugged and looked over to her husband, who was hugging Pugsley so tightly, he was starting to turn a little blue, while mumbling words into his black hair. Disgusting.
"I have realized that you are no longer a child, my love. You are mature enough to ask me for advice when you need it and I've made big enough of an impression on you, for you too know what I'm going to say, anyway." Her mother sounded saddened by her own words, but she still looked at Wednesday with utter adoration and love, to the point where Wednesday's skin started to itch a little.
"Just like that?" Did Wednesday sound disappointed by her mother letting her go off without an overbearing pep talk? Morticia tilted her head and reached out to let her hand linger in the air next to her daughter's forearm.
"No, not just like that. But I want you to live your life, enjoy yourself, make mistakes, fall in love-" Wednesday winced, Morticia smiled. "Find yourself, lose yourself, whatever it is. I was young once and I know that you need to make your own decisions, regardless of what I think of them, to feel like a whole human being. And now that I'm older I can see that you know, that if you ever need me, I'll be here the first chance I get."
Wednesday wrinkled her nose, she couldn't help it and Morticia laughed out loud. "Yeah, it grossed me out a little, too." But Wednesday did know that her mother would fight any demon that came her way, for her, and it was a nice change to know that she would, for once, wait to be asked. Her mother touched Wednesday's chin the slightest bit with her index finger and she surprised them both by not flinching away, immediately. "I love you very much." Wednesday knew that too. "And I hope you have as miserable of a semester as you desire."
Enough of the heartfelt talk. Wednesday walked past her mother to nudge Pugsley, who struggled to free himself from their father but eventually stumbled back. To her dismay, Gomez turned to her instead, big wide eyes.
"My little death trap." Gomez held his hands to his cheek like an uninspired mime, all riled up from the love he poured onto his son. Wednesday took a cautious step back. "Just...one little hug? For your old man?"
The smallest squint of her eyes, provoked him to reach forward with admirable speed and pull her into himself. Her face got smushed into his chest and she smelled the overwhelming amount of aftershave the man had on himself. An angry grunt fought itself to the surface and out of her mouth, as she considered biting him, but he let go at once. Her mother looked away and kissed her son on the top of his head. She disapproved of Gomez' way, she knew better. She thought it was touch itself that Wednesday couldn't stand, but really it was the longing of touch, that made her inner self feel tangled up. Touch felt to her as if someone dented her in, the longer and heavier it was, the bigger the dent became. To avoid that, she avoided touch all together. So really, they were both wrong.
Lurch came back into sight, after having carried their belongings into the building. Wednesday motioned for her brother to start walking and they made their way through the doors, but not without Pugsley looking back one last time.
-
The new headmaster was weird, had none of the elegance that Weems had portrayed and all together looked way too young to even be a teacher. He was a slim man in his early twenties, wore a very tight turtleneck and black jeans, with slippers. He had long brown hair, that he tucked away behind his ears. Wednesday wondered, if someone had forced the man to look like that. Maybe he had lost a bet. The vintage sunglasses were no saving grace to the outfit, but at the very least they indicated that he was most likely a vampire. There was no sun out today. And again, he looked way too young, on the pedestal, they had arranged for him in the courtyard.
"Jesus is back from the dead." A low voice was heard behind her and both she and Pugsley snapped around to see who it was. It was a long haired boy with dimples, who, very well, could be that resurrected man from the middle east as well. At least the one depicted on the crosses. She turned back to the headmaster, who just announced himself as Victor Elyss, he had quite the heavy French accent.
"Seems to me, as if French Jesus is undead." Wednesday said into the air. "Pugsley, this is Xavier. Xavier, this is my brother."
Pugsley reached around her to shake Xavier's hand, who happily took it. "You must be one of her friends."
Wednesday straightened her back, glaring at her brother, who shook his head in question. Xavier, as she predicted, ate Pugsley's words up and grinned from ear to ear. "Indeed, I am." She didn't give him the satisfaction of commenting on it, instead she tried to follow the speech of Victor Elyss, that was running through the speakers.
"Of course, I am aware, that you, as a community, are still recovering from the loss of Larissa Weems and I do not aim to replace her social impact. However, I am thoroughly excited to be starting a new chapter of this excelling school and get to know all of you." May the devil be with her, another one of those overwhelming personalities, that tried too hard. He bared his teeth as he smiled widely at the student body, his fangs now ever so visible. Wasn't it a little counterproductive to appoint a headmaster to keep the supernatural in check, who himself had a very obvious and life endangering addiction? Not that she was personally scared of Undead-Jesus, but it was definitely a choice. Made by whoever financed this school.
"He looks like the kind of teacher, that stops you in the hall to ask about your life at home, with no prompting whatsoever. The kind of teacher that sits down at the same table as you, to eat and chat." Both Pugsley and Wednesday grimaced at the idea of that. Xavier pointed between them with his index finger and laughed. "Ah, you really are siblings."
"Why would I lie about that?"
"Don't you lie for sport?"
As Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest, Xavier bumped his shoulder against her, as if to indicate that he was only joking. She had the sudden urge to twist his arm until his shoulder dislocated. She resisted. It would not be a good example for Pugsley (although she refused to be a role model, of course) or make a good first impression for the new headmaster. They could hang him on the cross again, for all she cared, but she really didn't want to have a deja-vu with another headmaster watching over her like a crow. Most importantly though, she didn't want to upset Xavier so early on, because she felt like she owed him some sort of debt, for ruining his semester and reputation. For getting him arrested and chained up like a dog. For doing all that and then him still being on her side somehow.
Looking around the students, they all seemed rather bored by Elyss already, some chatting quietly, other throwing a ball back and forth across the entirety of the open space. He didn't seemed to bothered with it, although some of the other teachers looked sternly at the loudest students. One of them jumping up and catching the ball mid flight. He mouthed the word 'enough'.
Eugene sat on a bench not to far away from her and she realized after she glanced toward him, that he must have tried to get her attention for a while. The moment their eyes met he smiled so wide that Wednesday realized within a second, that he had lost his braces. He waved, she lifted two fingers in the laziest salute known to man, her arms still crossed in front. It seemed sufficient enough for Eugene, who leaned back against the bench and watched the principal do his thing with contentment.
Bianca and Yoko stood close to the pedestal, both beautiful as ever. Bianca looked as if she was about to fall asleep, leaning back and forth on her heels, while Yoko inspected the ends of her hair, which even from a distance looked expertly cut and neat.
Her eyes were skimming through the crowd, unsure of what they were searching for, until they met their target. To her right, quite a distance away, she spotted a blonde strand of hair, behind one big werewolf, that Wednesday didn't personally know. He covered the rest of the person behind him, as he seemed to be one of the only people whose attention was actually held by the principal. Bothersome. She leaned back to catch another angle, but when her back touched Xavier's front, she bolted back forward.
"Who are you looking for?" He asked, leaning forward in a way, that she could feel his breath against her ear, causing her nerves to flare up. Quickly, she stepped around Pugsley and further back into the shadows. It was hard to explain, just how much the sensation had irritated her. Her heart fastening its rhythm, she felt a little dizzy as she stared with wide open eyes at the ground. What does it feel like...to lose? Warm breath against her ear, tight grip on her arms, someone towering over her, speaking to her from above. Wednesday bit her cheek and counted her breaths. It had been a while since she had felt this obnoxious, helpless feeling in her chest. It had been a while since she had thought about him. Tyler. Her, helpless, out of options. Almost dying at the hands of a boy, she had let herself trust. She couldn't believe this. Someone breathed on her and her body decided to have a flashback of a feeling, that she had pushed down as far as possible. Apparently not far enough. Betrayed by her own body, she counted. One, two, three, four... Breath in, breath out. Staring at the tip of her boots, where a small grass stain stood out from the polished leather. She focused on the stain, bit her cheek a little harder. It helped. Slowly the void in her chest began to fill up again, with blood or air, she didn't know, it was like someone was loosening their grip on her heart and allowed it to beat again, but really it was beating way faster than it should. I'm fine. He's gone. I'm fine. I'm fucking Wednesday Addams. And I'm fine. I'm Wednesday Addams, Wednesday Addams, Wednesday Addams...
Time passed, she didn't know how much, but it passed and so did this feeling of dread, not the kind she enjoyed. The speech was over, and students were roaming by her to get inside, probably up to their dorms. When Wednesday finally looked back up again, she came face to face with Pugsley. His forehead was all scrunched up, as he looked slightly up to her, so that dark eyes could look into dark eyes. He didn't ask, he just looked, all confused and empathetic. It shook her awake and cleared her throat. "You should find your dorm." At least her voice hadn't left her, it was as monotone as ever, with just the right amount of bite to get him going. He hesitated, then turned on his heel to find the room he would live in for the next few months. It would have been a relief to see him go, if not for the tortured artist that sat on the table, watching her like porcelain doll, that was threatening to burst into pieces.
"I don't know if I understand what just happened." Xavier had the decency to sound unsure of himself for once, without the smugness that usually trailed along. "What did I do?"
You can't just let me be. If he wouldn't keep putting the two of them into situations like these, he wouldn't continuously be disappointed and she wouldn't constantly feel as if she owed him the opportunity for said disappointment. That would be much easier, to just go back to isolation, not having to deal with other people's emotions and needs. Everyone always wanted something from her. Why?
Looking over his shoulder, mapping out a route to flee this conversation, her eyes finally found the blonde strand of hair and the person attached to it, that had started this whole mess. Enid. She was leaning against one of the pillars that held up the roof, looking down at the attention magnet, that was her phone, smiling half heartedly. Wednesday's eyes were glued to the sight. She barely even heard, what Xavier was saying, too invested in her own thoughts. Enid's hair had grown a little but it still had the same sort of vibe to it. She looked taller, but that was probably just because Wednesday stood so far away from the young werewolf. Why was it, that Wednesday suddenly felt so much more at ease? Sure, she had given the girl one or two thoughts during the break, but she hadn't expected to get washed over with relief at the sight of her. Relief from what?
Instinctively, Wednesday took a step forward. Even Xavier turned his head, to look at what kept her from explaining this incident. Just as Enid finally looked up from the machine of hell, straight at Wednesday for an eighth of a second, someone stepped in front of her. A boy with a beanie, who wrapped Enid into a hug, one hand on her lower back, the other one on her neck. She smiled into the embrace.
The relief was gone, flying away into the late summer air.
"I have to go." And off she went.