Chapter Text
Wednesday, in true Wednesday style, coped with the fact that Weems had changed her, spoon-fed her, bathed her and comforted her by simply as acting as though none of it had happened.
She went about her business as she had always done: exactly as she pleased, with occasional mild deference to Enid and Eugene.
It was only when she was next in big trouble - some small, amusing, prank involving a locker full of spiders - and was summoned to the Principal's office that she even considered that she might feel differently towards Weems than she had before.
Weems, rising from her desk when Wednesday invited herself in for what she thought was going to be a long lecture, came round and leaned down to Wednesday's height and began the meeting by checking whether she'd been eating right, whether she'd been getting enough sleep, and asking after her wounds.
"It's fine," said Wednesday, stiltedly, "it's all... fine."
"I am glad," said Weems softly, genuinely, one hand on Wednesday's shoulder squeezing gently. "On a completely separate note, I am disappointed, Wednesday, about the reports of your behaviour today. Perhaps you had best tell me, in your own words, what happened. Sit down, dear."
Wednesday sat down and Weems took the chair opposite hers at the fireside and Wednesday launched into a colourful explanation.
It was while she was describing where she'd got the spiders from that Wednesday happened to glance Weems' way and caught sight of the woman watching her contemplatively with her chin resting on her knuckles, a faraway look on her face.
Wednesday's voice faltered.
"What?" Wednesday asked suspiciously.
"Hmm?"
"You're looking at me... oddly."
"I am? Oh, I was just thinking how nice it is to see you well again," shrugged Weems. "Even when it means the rest of the student body have got to keep their guard."
Wednesday rolled her eyes.
"Are you going soft, Ms Weems?"
"Oh, absolutely," smirked Weems delightedly.
Wednesday returned the smirk, and then felt her words stick in her throat again.
"What is it? Where have you gone?" Weems asked gently, tilting her head to one side.
"I didn't... I didn't thank you for... any of it," Wednesday said, clearing her throat and shifting uncomfortably on her seat. "There were times... there were things I wanted to say-"
"Wednesday-"
"No, it's important you know-"
"Wednesday, I know. I know. You don't have to say it," said Weems reassuringly.
"I should have said it," argued Wednesday, "It was cowardly not saying anything-"
Weems rose fluidly from her seat at that and crossed the floor in a flowing stride to crouch down by Wednesday's lap.
"You are far from a coward, Wednesday Addams," Weems said earnestly, resting a hand on the arm of Wednesday's chair to steady herself.
"Spiders, snakes, carnivorous plants, evil spirits... those are easy," Wednesday muttered, twisting her hands together in her lap.
"I wasn't thinking of those actually," replied Weems earnestly, giving a little smile. "I was thinking of how when you're in trouble there's nothing you wouldn't do to protect your friends from danger too. I was thinking about how, when your little brother was being bullied, you faced the problem head on instead of taking it to someone else. Alright, I don't approve of your methods, darling, but I recognised from day one that you would never be cowardly."
Wednesday felt her eyes filling with surprised tears.
"Can I tell you something else, my little rulebreaking detective?" Weems murmured, rubbing Wednesday's knee softly.
Wednesday nodded mutely.
"Not always knowing the right thing to say doesn't make you any less of a good person," she confided.
"I'm not a good-"
"Yes, you are. You're a fundamentally good person who just happens to enjoy doing macabre things, and who doesn't realise her own strengths. You want to stop a bully, so you use ferocious animals for a shock tactic - I see where you might think that was going to go. But your words, Wednesday, those are your real power. Why didn't you write down what had happened and bring it to me? Your voice is as important as your ability to snake charm, dear."
Wednesday squirmed and pouted.
"Ms Weems," she muttered, blushing a little.
Weems loved that look: Every. Single. Second. of Wednesday Addams second-guessing her most recent bad decision, right up to the point when Wednesday finally gave a defeated sigh and propped her elbow on her leg and dropped her forehead onto it.
"I'm sorry about gathering all those arachnids and setting them loose at once. I understand that other Outcasts might have... feelings about that. I'm not sorry I gave Dewchurch the fright of his life."
"Thank you," said Weems, understanding that this was a big admission for the girl.
"I'm going soft," muttered Wednesday.
"Well, that makes too of us," shrugged Weems, squeezing Wednesday's shoulder.
"Am I still grounded?"
"Yes, yes, you are."
"Thank you, Ms Weems."