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“Mr. Addams… you need the anesthesia.”
“But then I won’t feel anything!” Gomez argued back.
Morticia laughed softly as she stepped forward, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Gomez, darling, you must do as the man says. I know anesthetic takes all the fun out of having your teeth removed, but apparently you need it for this surgery.”
The stark white and sterile smell of the operating room were bad enough, but being denied the wonderful pain that wisdom tooth removal promised? Gomez considered that to be inhumane. Couldn’t he have just one little thing? It's not as if he even wanted his teeth out in the first place, so what if all his food had to be blended? Drinking braised yak was sort of fun! Especially when the hairs got caught in his throat.
“Fun?” the oral surgeon muttered under his breath. “Sir, you’re having your wisdom teeth removed.”
“Yes, and you are the one keeping it from being a wonderful day!” Gomez exclaimed.
“Actually it's the anesthesiologist that's keeping it from being a fun day,” Morticia softly corrected. “However, you must do as they say. Those teeth need to come out, we’ve worn out our blender making all your food soft.”
“Who are you people?” the surgeon muttered once again.
“Look, I’m just going to jab you and get it over with,” the other man said, walking over with his needle.
“Oh, Tish, would you look at the size of that!” Gomez exclaimed as the anesthesiologist jabbed his arm. “We should get one of those for-” he was slumped over and asleep before he could finish the sentence.
Morticia kissed his forehead before joining Lurch out in the waiting room, much to the joy of the operating staff.
“Is he alright?” Lurch asked as Morticia took a seat beside him in the stiff, vinyl chair.
“They forced the poor dear to go under for the surgery,” Morticia said with slight amusement. “He was asleep within moments.”
“Do you think he’ll be… silly?” Lurch asked slowly. “When he wakes up?”
“Well, Gomez is always silly to a certain degree.”
“But when people wake up from surgery sometimes the anesthesia makes them act differently,” Lurch slowly explained and Morticia could tell he found the prospect amusing.
“Oh,” she said as she began curling the end of her hair around her finger. “Then I suppose we will have to wait and see. Gomez can be rather unpredictable. Perhaps he’ll surprise us and just sleep for the rest of the day.”
…
Forty five minutes later, Morticia was brought back to the recovery room. Lurch followed close behind, internally debating whether or not he should be filming this encounter. For the sake of his job, he decided against it.
“He’ll be groggy for a few hours,” the nurse was explaining. “He should just go home and sleep it off.”
“Pizza bagels,” Gomez sleepily muttered from the small bed he was on.
“We can get him a wheelchair,” the nurse offered. “To make getting to the car easier.”
“Lurch and I can manage, but thank you,” Morticia said. “Come along, darling, let's get you in bed.”
“Excuse me, madam, I am married,” Gomez mumbled as Morticia slung his arm over her shoulder.
“Yes, to me,” Morticia laughed.
However, Gomez was already distracted by Lurch. “Woah, you ate your Wheaties. Tall boy! Tall...” his head lolled back as he seemed to fall asleep on his feet once again.
Lurch groaned in response, looking to Morticia for help as they lugged Gomez to the car. Morticia smirked in amusement. “Lurch, I think we may be in for an interesting rest of the day.”
Morticia would soon find out how understated that statement was. As soon as it took to get to the car, in fact, it would appear that Gomez had turned into a completely different person.
“No!” Gomez half yelped half moaned upon seeing the green Packard. “No issa gater.”
“Gomez, darling, that's our car,” Morticia calmly explained as Lurch opened the door.
Gomez’s shocked face turned in Morticia’s direction, his hazy eyes going wide upon seeing her. “Woah… who are you?”
“I’m… I’m Morticia,” she said slowly, patting his chest. “Your wife.”
“I’m married to you?” he asked in awe as Lurch unceremoniously dumped him into the backseat.
“Yes, darling.”
Gomez’s jaw dropped, his bloody gauze nearly falling out of his mouth. “Are you serious?”
Morticia slid in beside him, biting her lip in trepidation. “Oh dear, I hope you’re pleased unlike that time you had amnesia.”
“You are the most-” he reached out and slapped his palm against her face- “beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life. I want to buy you things.”
“Well that's a relief,” Morticia sighed under her breath as she pulled his hand off her face. “Why don’t you relax and close your eyes for a bit?”
“No,” he whined, slumping over so his head was in Morticia’s lap. “No, you’re so pretty and if I close my eyes I won’t be able to see the pretty ever again because who knows when my eyes will open ever again!”
“Gomez, my love,” she said, voice dripping with fondness as she stroked his cheek. “Your eyes will open again, I promi- what are you chewing?”
“This is delicious,” he said, voice muffled by whatever he was eating.
“Gomez, open your mouth!” Morticia demanded, reaching for his jaw.
“Stop, don’t take my snack!” he whined, which gave Morticia the perfect opportunity to pry his mouth open.
“Gomez, you were not supposed to eat that!” Morticia exclaimed upon finding he had swallowed the bloody gauze. “Now I have to put more in.”
“Good, I’m so hungry!”
“No, do not eat it, Gomez,” Morticia half laughed half scolded as she reached for the bag of gauze. “Now, open your mouth.”
Gomez let out a snort. “Ha, that's dirty.”
Morticia bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Gomez, please, behave yourself.”
He smiled before opening his mouth, giving Morticia a perfect view of the bloody carnage inside. “Quite impressive, darling,” she said in awe as she slid in a piece of gauze. “The amount of blood is remarkable.”
“Aw, I’m blushing,” Gomez muttered, his eyes zeroing in on Morticia’s hand. “Oh no!”
“What?”
He grabbed her hand, nearly impaling his eye on her wedding ring. “You’re already married!”
“To you!”
Gomez’s face morphed into one of shock. “I’m so lucky!” he exclaimed before tears started welling up in his eyes, which then turned into full on sobs.
Morticia stared down at him in shock. Never in the many blissful years they had known each other had Morticia ever seen Gomez sob. Sure there were the random bouts of overly dramatic tears, but nothing like this. Post wisdom tooth surgery Gomez was a completely different human being.
“Oh, my poor darling,” she said sympathetically. “Why are you crying?” She brushed away the well of tears rushing down his swelling cheeks.
“I don’t deserve you,” he blubbered.
Morticia tried not to laugh. His feeling may have been drug induced but he was still feeling them. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Get some rest, Gomez.”
“Oh my God,” he gasped, clinging to Morticia’s arm. “We’re moving.”
“Yes, we’re in a car.”
“Holy fuck!”
…
“My children!” Gomez exclaimed happily as he stumbled into the house, escaping Morticia and Lurch as they tried to help him in.
Wednesday and Pugsley looked up with shock as Gomez pulled them into a group hug. “How are you feeling, Father?” Wednesday tentatively asked.
“Good, I took pills! Do you both want some pills?”
“Later, darling,” Morticia said, pulling him off the kids. “You need a nap before we give the children pain killers.” She turned to her children, smiling sympathetically. “If you both wouldn’t mind playing with the smaller dynamite caps today? Your father needs a lot of rest, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Of course,” Wednesday said, grabbing Pugsley by the ear. “Let's go.”
“We can go see who can hold their breath in the swamp longest!” Pugsley eagerly suggested. “That will be nice and quiet!”
The children ran off as Morticia led Gomez up the many stairs to their bedroom. “Alright, my dear, let's get you all settled in,” she said, pushing the door closed while also popping the buttons on his jacket.
Gomez grinned, which turned into a goofy chuckle as Morticia pushed the striped jacket from his shoulders. “You’re so horny.”
Morticia let out a rather unladylike snort of amusement. “Horny? Gomez, are you twelve?”
“Twelve inches deep in y-”
“No,” Morticia quickly said, placing her finger against his lips. “No need to finish that sentence when you can’t follow through.”
“I’m sleepy,” Gomez mumbled, no longer paying attention to Morticia as he stumbled toward the bed. “Face plant!”
“No!” Morticia cried, rushing after him before he could injure his face further. “Lay down gently on your back, mon cher.”
“That's Italian!” Gomez yelled, falling onto the bed and pulling Morticia with him. He planted his face into her bicep, attempting to kiss her arm with his swollen mouth. “I love when you speak Italian.”
“That was French, Gomez.” She slid out from beneath him and started wiggling off his shoes. “But I am still flattered that you’re attracted to me in such a state.”
“I’m attracted to you in every state!” he declared. “Colorado, North Dakota, Texas, Chicago.”
“The last one isn’t a state, but I digress.” Morticia grinned, looking down at her husband’s face, which was swelling rapidly. “I’m going to go get you some ice and I will be right back. You get nice and uncomfortable in the bed.”
“Okay pretty lady,” he sighed as he stared awkwardly wiggling toward the head board. “And I oop!”
Having no idea what that meant, Morticia left and made her way down to the kitchen. She could vaguely hear Gomez singing to himself as she left, making her quicken her pace so he wasn’t alone for too long. Rushing into the kitchen she made a beeline to the freezer and began shoveling ice into a black tea towel. If she got stopped by Fester or Mama she had no idea what trouble her husband would get into in the meantime. Those two liked to talk.
As soon as she reached the upstairs hallway, Morticia could hear some kind of wailing coming from the bedroom. She pushed open the door, expecting to see Gomez in a state of agony. Instead she found him on the bearskin rug, in only his underwear, doing what could only be described as twerking.
“From the top, make it drop, that's a wet ass-”
“Gomez!” Morticia gasped. Under normal circumstances, she would have been curious to see where this was going to go. However, Gomez was horribly drugged and drops of blood were flinging from his mouth with ever filthy lyric. “Alright, well the blood splatters on the rug look fabulous, but you need to get into bed and stop singing Cardi B.”
“Wait, wait, Tish, wait,” he mumbled, pushing to his feet. “Look what I learned!” He crouched, getting into a very strange position, and then began gyrating while singing, “bodyoddyoddyoddyoddy!”
“Gomez, no,” Morticia groaned. “In bed, now.”
“Tish, not now, my face hurts,” Gomez muttered, stumbling toward the bed. “Not now, I need a break sometimes. Ha! Gotcha! I’m always ready to go!” He let out another laugh and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Give daddy a kiss.”
“I will give daddy and ice pack,” Morticia said, pressing the ice to his cheek. “You can kiss me all you want once the swelling has gone down.”
He looked at her with a confused expression in his glossy eyes, flopping onto the bed. “Tish, if you kiss me it's just going to swell more.”
Morticia bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. “You’re face, my darling, not your penis.”
“Ha, penis.” This sent Gomez into an uncontained fit of laughter, the bloody gauze falling from his mouth onto the black sheets. “My tongue!” he screamed in terror. “I need that to please you!”
Morticia slapped her hand over her eyes, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Gomez, my dearest, that is gauze. You wouldn’t be able to speak if it was your tongue.”
“Oh… oh good.” He picked up the bloody gauze. “Tish, we should frame this!”
“It would go wonderfully with your extracted teeth,” Morticia said thoughtfully, taking the gauze from him. “I will put it somewhere safe until we can find a proper frame, alright?”
“Swallow it,” Gomez said suddenly, his face going deadly serious.
“Pardon?”
“Eat my gauze, Morticia.”
She sighed, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Slowly she began shaking her head as she set the gauze down on the dresser behind her. “While I do love blood, I don’t really feel like choking to death while you’re goofy on laughing gas.”
Morticia watched as Gomez’s bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes welled up with tears. “Don’t you love me?” he wailed. “I thought we had something special! But I guess I’m just a weenie!”
Morticia wanted to laugh, she really did, but she kept her face as straight as possible as she slid into bed beside him. “You are not a weenie, Gomez. I think you’ll feel much better after a nap.”
“I can’t nap!” he said in exasperation, using his hands for emphasis. “There are four more holes in my mouth that weren’t there this morning!”
Morticia reached out to pat his cheek. “Yes, because the tooth pain was too much, even for you, who loves pain.”
“I do, I do love pain,” he whimpered, letting his head fall to her shoulder. “Spank me.”
“Tomorrow,” she promised, wrapping her arms around him.
“Sing to me,” Gomez muttered, finally settling down on the bed.
“Sing?” Morticia asked incredulously. “Sing what?”
“Not Taylor Swift!”
“Obviously,” Morticia scoffed. She glanced down, praying Gomez was already asleep but no, he was looking up at her expectantly. “Um…”
“Oh that was lovely,” he said with a large yawn, which in turn made him wince. “Thank you, cara mia.”
Feeling relieved that she didn’t actually have to sing, Morticia smiled and settled in closer to him, pressing the bag of ice to his cheek. “Unpleasant dreams, my darling.”
Gomez mumbled something before immediately falling fast asleep. Morticia let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes as well. Even if she wanted to slip away to do something else, it would have been impossible. Gomez was half on top of her and she did not want to do anything to wake him up. Drugged Gomez was like a third child, he needed all the sleep he could get. And come to think of it, so could she.
…
Gomez woke up five hours later to the worst face pain he had felt since he and Fester would play shovel tag as children. He could distinctly smell blood and was momentarily excited about what the source of the pain and the blood could be. Then he remembered and was all too disappointed that the cause wasn’t something sexual. He groaned loudly before testing out his jaw, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his mouth, then smiled as he realized he liked it.
“This feels wonderful,” Gomez mumbled, his voice rather muffled as if his mouth was full of marbles.
“Oh, you’re awake, my darling,” Morticia said softly, forcing Gomez to open his heavy eyes. “How's your face?”
“Hurts very much,” he said, slowly turning his head to look at her. “I should get teeth pulled more often. I have to say, I do not remember getting home, did you and Lurch have much trouble hauling me around?”
Morticia almost laughed. “Oh, my darling, do you not really remember anything?”
“I remember being impressed with the size of the needle… then nothing until this moment right now.” His face fell into a very awkward, lopsided smile. “Was I a naughty boy?”
“And then some,” Morticia said, sliding into a sitting position. “I’m just happy you’re back to yourself, albeit a bit swollen, but still. Why don’t I go get you some fresh ice and make you a nice cup of henbane tea?”
“Wait, no, I want to know what I did!” he said with a slight laugh, latching onto her arm.
“Well, you cried a lot,” Morticia said slowly, testing the waters.
Gomez’s sleepy eyes went wide. “Me?” He shook his head. “Never.”
“Oh my dear, that isn’t even the most out of character thing you did,” Morticia said with amusement. “I would say that was the dancing.”
“But querida, we dance all the time.”
“No, no, not a normal sort of dancing. I believe the children call it twerking.” Morticia bit her lip to keep from laughing too much. The memory was rather amusing now that her husband was well rested and clear minded.
“Oh… and you were able to keep your hands off me?” He winked, but he did it in kind of a drunken way with both eyes. “I’ll give you an encore when I don’t feel like I was hit by a truck.”
“I envy your pain, my darling,” Morticia smiled before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Now, I’m going to get that tea and you are going to rest.”
“Yes ma’am,” he muttered with a dopey grin. “Oh, Tish!” he called as she got to the door.
“Yes, my darling?”
“Will you recreate the twerking I did when you get back?”
Morticia rolled her eyes as she pushed open the door. “Perhaps… as long as you tell no one.”
“I will take it to the grave!”