Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Denial

This was not fair. Not fair at all. I’d already battled my way through Harry Potter, this was way too much! I wailed loudly. I mean, I was a baby. I was entitled to a bit of distress. 

Though I did retain my adult brain. The memories didn’t even have the grace to come slowly, I was born with them. Honestly, I didn’t know how my brain was coping but as it is said that we only use 20% of our brains, well… The point was, for a baby, I was dealing with thing reasonably.

 By crying, lots of it.

 Then hysterical laughter but I’ve been told it sounds extremely similar so…

 It didn’t really matter anyway.

 Nothing was going to save me from this. Nothing was going to deliver me from the looming, familiar faces above. Why did this keep happening to me? I was aware that I sounded like a whining brat but I am a whining brat and even non-whining brats were allowed a little whining every now and again. This situation totally merited it. I dare you not to whine if...

Wait, was that a knife?

Of course it was a knife. There was only one answer to why there was a custom mobile (the thing you hang over a baby's head) above mine. I still refused to believe it. This was totally unfair! Unfair I tell you. I was just hallucinating or dreaming and when I woke up I'd be back in one of my previous bodies. Well not really previous as I had to actually be in one of them. I had to!

There was no way that I was actually where I thought. No one could be so cruel as to dump me here. I had to remind myself it was just a dream to stop me hyperventilating. I wasn't allowed to hold on to the last of my illusion for long though. because it felt something pinch my side. I turned around and came face to face with a baby Wednesday Addams.

Family

Morticia and Gomez Addams were far from the worst parents in the world. Yes they were quite liberal in their displays of affection and yes they didn't seem to have any concept of children's safety but they did care and love for me and my twin very much. My skewed childhood taught me to dodge first and think later. Wednesday took to a more aggressive approach - attack first and bury the body later.

However questionable my parents’ views on safety were, they looked after us in the best way they knew - training us to be the monsters in the night. I was never going to get over my fear of tarantulas and I freaked the first time I ate one but after killing so many, I just began not to like them. How could I still be afraid of them when I had murdered so many?

Speaking of food, I had been unable to stay vegetarian but once I was able to talk, I convinced my parents to allow me poisonous plants instead. I only had to mention the word ‘nightshade’ to convince them. Now, if I wasn’t an Addams, this would most certainly kill me but I’d been blessed with the family genes so I'd be fine. Hopefully.

Before I could freak myself out, I changed the subject.

My parents.

While I could have found their sexual activities slightly disturbing, I preferred to watch and observe. I liked to hold onto my morals but above all, I needed to survive and so I had to adapt. I had never directly killed someone before so I had to adjust my mindset. I didn't enjoy killing, didn't derive any joy from it so I let Wednesday cover that bit. Both my parents were quite proud of my chosen method of destruction: words.

Somedays, I started to wonder how much of my humanity I was losing.

I had to remind myself that I was saving other people by ridding the world of murders, rapists, all the scum. I still believed somewhere deep down that some of them could be saved but how many people was I saving by doing this? I didn't go on murder sprees like my siblings, I was calculated. I was judge and jury and Wednesday was torturer and executioner. I just couldn't bring myself to enjoy other people's pain. Whatever you said about Addamses, they were loyal and my family still loved me.

Wednesday and I got along exceptionally well. Well better than I expected anyway. She was the harbinger of harsh truths and I was the keeper of the truth. Our parents commented that we were a joy to watch together. I was especially grateful of the fact that any of our arguments were fought out in little competitions like who could stab Pugsley first. My family had instilled a certain sense of sadism in me and as I grew older, I found I relished 'naming the sentence' of the inhumane people we came across.

As horrible as my family could be, innocents were not to be harmed.

We appreciated the work of several serial killers on bodies but there was no doubt that if we ever came across them, they wouldn't leave whole. An eye for an eye, after all.

Granny Frump had quite a lot of potions that called for the use of them.

Mother liked to reminisce about all the ones she'd used.

If I'd been sent here straight from my first life, I don't think I'd have survived. When you fight a war at sixteen rather that doing you GCSEs or starting your A-Levels, things can get a bit fuzzy. You're literally fighting for your life with no guarantee about what's going to happen if you survive. What's the cost? It turned out that it was a lot of people you know being hurt, people who used to wave at you in the corridors dead next to you and countless limbs lying around.

Maybe that was when I began to lose my already shaky grip on reality. Somedays I wondered whether I'd snap and everything that made me me would just drift into the sky. I already felt badly grounded and I didn't know what would happen.

In some ways, living with the Addams was cathartic. Nothing quite helped you ease all your negative emotions away like condemning a pathetic excuse of a human being. On the days I felt down enough to start wondering where I'd turned into the opposite of empathetic, kind and gentle, I was soon 'cured'.

Absentmindedly, I dodged Wednesday's knife and batted away the second one with the back of my hand. I turned back to my poisonous mushrooms and then realised I had a small cut on the back of my hand. I clearly hadn't got the angle right. Absentmindedly, I licked away the blood before continuing with my meal. In the background, I heard an explosion and Pugsley whooping. It was a testament to how much the Addams had affected my life that I didn't even flinch. I continued to eat my actually quite good meal silently. It deserved the appreciation. I honestly didn't understand why - poisonous. It's poisonous to everybody else.

To be fair, it wasn't all advantages. The warm sun that I had previously relished made me cringe and fakeness still made me cringe. I had been extremely aware of the fakeness of people in other lives but it was only in this one that I found myself caring enough to not stop Wednesday from attacking them. Well, only once - I didn't want to go to jail. Once we were on the police's radar, we were never escaping. Then and again, it was naive to think we weren't on it already. Good luck neutralising an Addams though. Death was glorious, torture was interesting and all other conventional methods were out.

Sunlight and fake positivity were the only things that had a huge effect but even that wasn't enough. All in all, no one had any hope with trying to control the family. It simply wouldn't work. Too bad for the police. At least we had some morals, skewed as they were, so killing sprees were generally limited to those who didn't deserve extended torture but were terrible enough to be disposed of.

School

Honestly, my twin cracked me up.

'Normal' people avoided me as much as they avoided her because of my tendency to begin laughing at random times. I really lived up to the glorious name I had been given: 'Lunatic'. It seemed that even in this life I wasn't going to be able to escape from Moon-associated names. I absolutely adored the name. Once I'd given into my sadistic urges, life was so much easier to enjoy. 

I knew very well that it was disturbing, that 'normal' people would be absolutely horrified but what was the point of fighting against the tide? Death was glorious and torture was for those who deserved it. I could be kind and deadly at the same time, couldn't I? I didn't even know why that was a question. I was both at the same time so obviously it was.

Back to Wednesday, her deadpan comments never failed to make me burst out laughing. I had never had a delicate giggle or a light laugh and it hadn't changed. My cackles scared the life out of the other children. I had worried at first but it was a good learning experience for them. Who knows what unsavoury types they might come across?

It was better for them to adapt know, to recognise that not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Essentially, me and my twin were disillusioning them to the world before they could be enamoured with it. There was plenty of time for them to learn to enjoy life.

Ah, life.

Beautiful because of its fleetingness. We Addams appreciated Death but that didn't mean we disliked Life. You could love Water (drowning was a relatively painless process) and appreciate Fire (burning was a glorious way to go).

Wednesday jabbed me. My unnatural sensitivity to her meant I flinched just enough for her to miss a pressure point. She didn't express any outward expressions but my empathy which had already been high in previous lives was more sensitive in this one. Plus I knew her well enough to sense her disappointment. I sent her a placid smile. She didn't flinch away anymore. She used to be absolutely horrified by my cheerful disposition but over the course of time, she had been come numb to it.

What a pity.

I was going to need to find another way of keeping her off balance. It wouldn't do to become too predictable. My face smoothed into stone. Wednesday and I looked like a right pair: she was dark and looked like a vampire while I was whiter than bone and looked like a ghost. Our teacher gave us a nervous look like he knew we could smell his fear and moved away, over to the other, more normal children.

I couldn't help but wonder if part of the reason my family seemed so cold and unapproachable was because no one ever made an effort. They seemed to think our 'oddness' was contagious. They were right. Look at me! Then and again, I turned my attention to Wednesday who had just attempted to stab the boy who came up to her with a pen. He was acting like a pansy - probably had a crush on her, poor boy. He hadn't hurt our family and we were biologically six so I wouldn't let Wednesday kill him. He was being a right prick though so I might let her get one hit in.

It turned out to be a mistake.

Two minutes later, Wednesday and for some reason me (Probably because they knew I could have stopped her. Or they thought I was an accomplice. I thought I sold the 'innocent' act pretty well - I'd been doing it all my lives because people liked to think they needed to protect you. It was the easiest way to make friends. Maybe I was just here for leverage. As if I'd back anyone over Wednesday.) were in the headmistress' office.

The woman sighed and massaged her temple. She jumped when she realised we were already there. Like all good pickpockets or any other profession that required stealth, we were well versed in being quiet. 

"Come in" she said awkwardly trying to hide her discomfort.

"We're already in." Wednesday commented.

The woman swallowed nervously "Yes... Sit down" She gestured towards the bench in front of her desk.

Wednesday looked like she was about to ask why but I had an inkling and I was interested in how the woman was going to navigate the topic. Gently, I took her hand and led her to the bench. It was a surprisingly comfortable bench and I hated it. Things that sunk like this were ghastly. Not deep enough for suffocation and not hard enough for torture. They were pointless!

My own bed, made from repurposed torture racks, was so much more comfortable than this monstrosity. I worked hard to keep my expression of curiosity on my face. People thought I wore my heart on my sleeve but they didn't realise it was only one of my emotions. It was so easy to cultivate apologetic nervousness when explaining I didn't have my homework. It seemed to work as the woman sent me a hesitant but reassuring smile. I was a 'likeable' child. If not for my paleness and twin, people could forget I was an Addams. I was an expert at blending in. I didn't want to keep blending in though. When I went off to secondary school, I was not going to conceal my Addams nature anymore. It simply wasn't fair on myself. Why did I have to hide myself?

When I grew up, it wasn't like it would matter. People would be too focused on my body to care. After I had proudly declared I wanted to be a Black Widow, my mother had taken to training me. It meant I wasn't allowed so many sweet things (which was a good thing, I'd been a bit plump in my other lives) but my mother wanted me in perfect health. I thought I'd already pulled every muscle possible but I was discovering new ones. My mother was a harsh taskmaster. I wouldn't have it any other way.

While Mother stole me away for private lessons in the art of seduction, Wednesday practised her torturing skills. A bear that was getting ready to maul her had been gruesomely tortured. I couldn't find it in me to care. Every living thing killed to live. It was just they way things were. The only way to survive was to be the apex predator and my family were nothing but apex predators. I still couldn't let go of my innate desire to avoid conflict that I'd been balancing with my need to be myself all my lives but I'd found a sort of peace. Mostly, it was if I don't know about it, I can't feel guilty about it.

Judging from the marks on the bear, it had had a quick death so I could pacify myself with that. Still, in the late night, I wept. Decades of practice meant I could do it silently. I didn't know why I tortured myself by thinking about it so much. I had to remind myself that the Addams family enjoyed torture and perhaps they didn't quite realise that it wasn't the same for other people and that they didn't prize Death in quite the same way. My twin for example didn't really value emotions until I pointed out that they made a lot of people do stupid things like fight battles they'd never win.

Having had experience with these sorts of views before, it was not difficult to show her the validity of my argument. Give Wednesday some factual data, let her realise it was true and she would believe you. Hey, that rhymed! Just in time, I remembered where I was and kept my serious face plastered on. Wednesday was already in trouble, no need to make the situation worse.

For some reason, it was always Wednesday who got blamed for my actions outside. Never directly of course but if I ever acted out, it had to be because of Wednesday. It was stupid but that's what people thought.

'Poor child' (I knew that already.)

'A twin like that' (I barely restrained myself from hitting them. I had become considerably more violent after staying with the Addams family.)

'Must be influencing her' (I was my own, independent person thank you very much. Yes, I spent a lot of time with my sister but we were twins! What did those im-

"Miss Addams."

-beciles expect?)

Both Wednesday and I looked impassively at the headteacher. 

"Not-oh" she muttered. "Miss Wednesday Addams." She stated a bit more clearly though I could sense the irritation in her tone. Well, this was going to be interesting. If I had popcorn, I would be eating it but it would make too much noise and disrupt the show. We can't have that, can we? I knew Wednesday could take perfect care of herself so the only one I was worried about was the headmistress. Oh, well. She'd be fine. Probably. I mean, I didn't see why she wouldn't be. All she had to do was avoid was dragging me into the situation which was common decency anyway. You shouldn't blackmail children - it either goes terribly well for a short amount of time or terribly badly until forever. The point was, children weren't ideal for blackmailers. They either weren't challenging enough or proved too challenging to blackmail for long periods of time. Just don't blackmail children. Wednesday would say it was common sense. I hoped the headmistress was intelligent enough not to.

I hoped wrong.

"Miss Addams, I am rather concerned about the reports I have received regarding your behaviour - the boy and the pen for example and-"

"He was bothering me."

"Still a pen near the neck-"

"That's how much he was bothering me."

"And the girl with the-"

"She was in the way."

"So you shouted 'Move now' at her?"

"She wasn't moving."

Clearly sensing she wasn't going to get anywhere with this line of questioning, the headteacher tried a different tactic.

"Miss Addams, what would happen if someone did that to you?"

"They wouldn't manage."

"If they somehow did?"

"They wouldn't."

"Yes, but if they did?"

"We gladly feast on those who would subdue us." Wednesday recited, her eyes alight with malicious glee.

The headmistress was a clever woman and realised she was going to have to try yet another method. She searched around the office as if looking for a source of inspiration before her eyes alighted on me. Uh oh. Maybe not such a clever woman. What a shame. I hoped the fight would be a little more even. By this point, as far as I was concerned, she deserved a little pain. (But not too much. I'd never forgive myself.)

"What about Miss Lunatic Addams?" she asked sweetly, way too sweetly, "If this continues, you'll have to leave and she'll be alone here."

Wednesday, as always, was not affected.

"She won't."

"What?" the woman asked confused. She'd clearly been celebrating before she actually won. That's bad strategy! Honestly why were villains so stupid? To be fair, she wasn't really a villain so I guess she could be excused.

"She won't be alone here."

"Well, if you had to be expelled, then your poor sister would be here on her own."

"She won't." Wednesday said monotonously. She didn't outwardly show any frustration at having to repeat herself but I knew she was just itching to stab something. Gently, I reached over to grasp her hand. I should be able to block anything she threw from the other one so the headmistress wasn't going to die today. At least not from wounds. Fear was a whole other story and I couldn't really do anything about that, could I? 

"That's it“, the woman screamed. "Wednesday Addams, you are expelled."

Wednesday stayed where she was.

"Get out!"

"You forgot Friday."

"WHA-"

"It's Wednesday Friday Addams" I interceded.

"Wednesday Friday Addams, you are expelled. Now, LEAVE!"

Wednesday didn't flinch but I had to work hard to keep the smile off my face.

"What is it now?"

"Wednesday won't leave without me but you can't expel me yet so..."

I let go of Wednesday's hand and an instant later, a dagger thudded into the wall behind the woman's head. Honestly, I had no idea how many Wednesday had stashed under her skirt. While I found trousers more practical it was good to know how to fight in skirts too so I alternated. Today, it was trousers which were a bit harder because there was a smaller gap in which to store things.

"That's it!" the woman screamed, "Lunatic..."

"Lyssa" (after the greek goddess)

"...Lyssa Addams, you are expelled!"

"Now both of you, GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE! GO!"

Wednesday casually retrieved her dagger and arm-in-arm, we walked out.

Well that was fun. 

Our next stint in a school was remarkably short. I blamed it on Wednesday. I blamed everything on Wednesday. She deserved it. It was always her fault.

"Would you like to introduce yourselves?"

"No" Wednesday answered matter-of-factly. The teacher didn't seem very pleased. I wonder why? I let my attention drift around the room. Our fellow classmates were not all paying attention - half of them looked at us with glassy eyes. They were just tired, right? They couldn't possibly have found Wednesday's stash of pot. She promised me that she'd kept it safe! Why did Granny Frump even give her it? That woman was touched in the head but she was my grandmother so...

It didn't mean I couldn't try to kill her when we got back home. The crazy bat would even enjoy it, I bet you. All my family was mad but that woman took it a bit too far. Put it this way - I was so glad we were family because otherwise, she would have killed us all by now. I’m not even kidding.

”Introduce yourselves.” the teacher said with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen and gritted teeth.

”My name is Wednesday Addams.”

”How about likes, dislikes?”

”I dislike it when people except for Lunatic touch my things.”

She hissed like an angry cat at the now high children and I went off to rescue what was left of her stash before the daggers came out again. 

Lunatic Lyssa Addams: preventer of sheer destruction.

I deserved way more than a medal. I dreaded the day Wednesday went into a rampage without me. At least that was never going to happen. I didn't see any situation in which that was going to happen and I would fight tooth (teeth are so strong!) and nail to prevent that possibility. My twin and I weren't meant to be separated. As a rule, the only one who could survive  handle an Addams was another Addams. The world was in for it when me and Wednesday moved to secondary school and Pugsley was left alone in primary.

I had ensured through various questionable methods that he wouldn't hurt any of the students or teachers for anything less than murder. After that, he had totally free reign. I bet he was still going to find a way to blow up the school. Maybe I should feel guilty that I was instilling a sense of accuracy in him but he was my brother. I needed to look out for him, didn't I?

I looked up and caught sight of the teacher's rapidly reddening face. Like I said, it was all Wednesday's fault. I glared at my twin, who simply grabbed the bag from my hand.

Rude.