Chapter Text
With Morticia’s help, Enid had radically redecorated the ballroom. The video projectors of flames had been eschewed in favor of candle light. Ajax had found old kerosene lamps in the basement and their soft glow illuminated the stage. The burnt centerpieces had remained in place, adorned with twinkling lights. Enid had decided that the charred branches were a testament to how Nevermore’s path had been altered by Weems’ death. The sprinklers had damaged the original prom banner but Enid had crafted a replacement that read The Dark Prom: Burnt but not Broken.
Wednesday watched as Xavier descended the stairs to meet her. He wore an impeccably fitted black suit with a scarf created from the hem of Weems' dress draped around his neck.
She tentatively touched one of the applique flowers. “They really are red.”
“Some things can’t be altered, not matter how hard you try.” His voice was edged with exhaustion. “Grief, loss, pain, the color red – they don’t go away just because you want them to.”
“What about love?” She questioned.
“Yeah. That one is the worst,” Xavier said shyly. He had never been able to say the words I love you but she knew, in that moment, that he was as deeply in love with her as she was with him.
“Are you going to be OK, Xavier?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. But we’ll figure it out, together.” Her voice sounded more angry than she intended and she hoped he was too tired to notice.
“It's time.” Xavier pointed at the stage. The crowd was gathering to crown the Prom King and Queen.
“It’s going to be Enid,” she whispered in his ear.
“I know. Thing wanted to stuff the ballot box but I told him that he didn’t need to, it was unanimous.”
Wednesday stood on a chair in order to watch as Eugene’s name was called as Prom King. His eyes were cast downward, determined not to burst out laughing as Bianca placed the crown on his head. Then Enid’s name was announced as Queen. Her ice blue skirt twirled out as she happily took the stage.
“Look. Look up there.” Xavier pointed.
Wednesday gasped as she noticed a bucket teetering high above the podium. As Bianca helped Enid with her crown, Ajax pulled a cord and red rose petals showered down from above.
Xavier grinned at Wednesday’s surprised expression. “Were you expecting pig’s blood?”
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “I was hoping; a girl can dream.” She leaned back against him, his long arms wrapping around her shoulders. "It’s actually perfect. Red looks good on her. And you.”
“I thought you hated color?”
She touched the red flowers on his scarf. Her expression grew serious. “You need help. I want you to get help.”
His arms stiffened around her. “Even if it means your boyfriend is being taught by your mother?”
“I think we both know that you’re more than just my boyfriend.” She let the words hang in the air.
He took her hand. “We should dance – it is prom.”
She swung his hand as they walked out onto the dance floor. “You hate dancing.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Not with you. I’d walk on hot coals to be with you, Wednesday Addams.”
Her dark eyes flashed seductively. “Maybe later.”
🖤
Morticia Addams stood on the edge of the crowd, silently surveying the crowded ballroom. In the distance, Ajax straightened Enid’s crown before kissing her as they took selfies. In the middle of the dance floor, Wednesday spun around Xavier as he tried not to laugh. She pulled the red scarf tight around his neck as he doubled over laughing.
She smiled as Wednesday pulled Xavier close. He cradled her face in his large hands as she gripped onto his wrists, holding him in place.
No one noticed as Morticia silently exited the ballroom. She smiled to herself as she made the short journey to the nearby graveyard. She tried to walk quickly, despite the moonless night. The energy was perfect for a quick séance with Larissa Weems' spirit. She closed her eyes and tried to remember every detail of the prom, she knew her best friend would want to hear every single detail.
Weems’ headstone was carved from the palest marble. Under the dates of her birth and death, it simply read, Esteemed Principal of Nevermore.
Candles lit in a circle around her, Morticia recited the opening incantation she knew by heart: she thanked the universe for its energy and invited her friend’s spirit to join her. “Larissa my dear, you’ll be so happy to hear that prom went exactly the way you said it would.”
The candles flickered and a familiar voice echoed through the darkness. “Were the rose petals red or white?”
“Red, of course. Just like when I was crowned Prom Queen.”
“I should have used pig’s blood.” Larissa whispered.
“That is exactly what Wednesday said.” Morticia bit back a smile.
“That’s my girl,” Weems said breathily. “Now tell me everything. I want to hear every detail.”
“It was absolutely perfect. No one even questioned why I had 400 matching black candles in the car.”
“That’s how people are; they don’t notice details, they simply absorb impressions.” Larissa enunciated each word perfectly.
Morticia nodded, smoothing her hair. “So true, so true.” She looked back at the lights of Nevermore. It seemed so far away. Her heart ached dully, thinking that her time for dances was over. Even though she was married and a mother of two children, some elemental part of her still longed to be part of the excitement. “It feels like it all happened yesterday. It feels like I went to sleep as the Prom Queen last night and now, all of a sudden I’m 53.” She felt like her youth had slipped away from her like a pair of gloves, forgotten by the door.
“I’m sorry I abandoned you.” Larissa’s voice rose from the shadows, interrupting her thoughts.
Morticia leveled a stare at her friend’s grave marker. “You were murdered, dear. You didn’t abandon me."
“You know what I mean, Morticia. We were supposed to be roommates at Yale and I left you all alone.”
“It was fine. I know things with Gomez made you uncomfortable.” Morticia drew a heart in the dirt near the headstone.
“He was just an excuse. I left Yale because I was overwhelmed by your depression. I didn’t know what to do; I felt so helpless so I took the coward’s way out and transferred to Oxford.”
Morticia pursed her lips. “It wasn’t your job to alleviate my depression or curb my self destructive behavior, Larissa.”
Weems’ voice seemed to reverberate. “You were only 18. You needed me.”
In the silence, Morticia’s lonely heartbeat echoed through the veil of death. She felt her friend’s energy sweep away like the wind rushing through treetops. She listened to the crickets as she prepared to leave.
“We were beautiful, weren’t we?” Larissa’s voice drifted through the air.
“We were so gorgeous. We were unstoppable forces of nature.” Morticia answered back, grateful beyond words not to be alone.
🖤
Wednesday and Xavier helped the other Nightshades fold up chairs and put away table cloths.
“I was — well, I was wondering,” Wednesday stammered.
Xavier crossed his arms, delighted as always, to see his girlfriend flustered. “Go on, Addams.”
“I was wondering if I could sleep in your room tonight?”
“Are Enid and Ajax hooking up?” Xavier asked.
“Yes, but that’s a secondary concern.”
He yanked her toward him in his own peculiar way, both firm and gentle. His hand found its familiar place on the small of her back. “Don’t you have to study so you can get all A’s and skip out on graduation?”
She slipped her hand between the buttons of his shirt, her fingertips tracing over his bare chest. “I’ve decided that I’d like to attend graduation after all. I don’t even care if I graduate slightly below Kent. Oddly enough, I don’t think that it will kill me.”
“Wow. That's so generous of you. So you’re going to stick around for graduation?”
She moved her entire hand to cover Xavier’s heart and relished the way it made him shiver. “My roommate is the salutatorian, after all. She’ll need my help with her speech.”
“Enid be so happy. Did you tell her?”
Wednesday looked over to where Ajax was twirled Enid in the middle of the dance floor, the rhinestones in her Prom Queen crown scattered an array of rainbow lights over the room. "No, this is her night. I’ll tell her in the morning." As she turned back to Xavier, he was studying her face.
His dark green eyes crinkled around the corners when he smiled. "Do you want to sleep in my room because you want to be with me or because you're afraid I'm going to leave again?"
"Can't it be both?" She tried to sound playful but missed the mark.
“I’m not sure if that sounds romantic.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
She rose up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his. “When you were gone, I knew that I needed to be with you. Alive or dead, I'm with you. My heart would turn to ice without you."
Xavier wasn't sure how to respond. He hated the thought of making her miserable, of causing her pain. "I want to be closer to you but it doesn't need to be physical."
She stepped on his foot, making him wince. "Are you rejecting my invitation to engage in an overhyped rite of passage?"
He shook his head. "I'm OK with us doing whatever you want to do. You know that."
Wednesday offered her hand to him. "I need you to tell to me what's going on in your head. Not just about what happened today but about everything.”
Xavier pressed his wide lips together and slowly met her eyes. "I kept seeing that girl die and I didn't know what to do. But then we saved her."
She pulled his hand, leading him out of the ballroom and up the stairs. "Xavier, I need you to let me in."
He stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes. "Inside my head is a horrible place to be."
"I’m not scared,” Wednesday said, certainty in her voice.
Xavier looked down. “I am.”
”It won't be as bad if we’re together." Wednesday pulled on his hand again, leading him to his quiet room at the end of the hall. "Let me in."
He opened the door to his dorm room. Drawings were scattered over every surface: crumpled figures, bodies twisted in pain with broken limbs. Despite the warm Spring weather, there was a chill in the air.
"I'm sorry, I left all the windows open. God, it’s freezing."
She lifted the red scarf from around his neck, letting it drop to the floor. "C'mon, Xavier Thorpe. Let me keep you warm."
🖤
Nestled under a comforter, Xavier had fallen asleep almost instantly. He’d mumbled apologies, kissing her lips even as he drifted into sleep.
Wednesday’s eyes wandered over his drawings. Images of pain and horror stared back at her blankly, immobile and overwhelming in number.
She reached over Xavier to the sketchbook that stood ready on his nightstand. She squinted, struggling to write clearly in the darkness. She wanted her words to be the first thing he saw before he committed the horrors of his dreams to paper:
If we have to perish twice,
let us burn in fire
and not fade away in ice
Wednesday set the pencil down and snuggled down beside Xavier. The scribbled words weren’t her best work but she had time to get them right.