Work Text:
Wednesday did end up texting Xavier, but he never texted back. She should’ve felt some form of relief that he never texted her and was living his own life, but the idea that he would no longer be a part in her life left her organs feeling odd.
The Addams Family had decided that Wednesday would be returning to Nevermore Academy in the fall, so whether she liked it or not, she would have to see Xavier Thorpe once again.
Only, Xavier never showed up on the first day… or the first week… or the first month. Wednesday had inquired about Xavier’s absence but many had just shrugged their shoulders and said he must be touring with his father, while others said that Xavier had been on a bender since the middle of summer. Wednesday wanted to know more but was limited by the walls of the school, so she did her best to put him out of her mind.
His studio had become her private study. Wednesday had left whatever art supplies and pieces where they were in case maybe he did come back. The image of her playing the cello loomed over the space- a constant reminder of the feelings he had once expressed to her.
The school year was already so different from the last; no murders, no Weems, the Sheriff was now the Mayor, no Tyler, no mystery. Frankly, Wednesday Addams was bored out of her mind. Bianca had returned but was no longer attempting to pick a fight. It was all so terribly droll. The Nightshades had taken it upon themselves to become more serious and guard the student body better. So Wednesday spent her days as a consultant of sorts for the Nightshades, a straight-A student, a partner-in-crim to Enid, and a writer’s blocked novelist.
Needless to say that Wednesday Addams was indulging in nightly activities that were frowned upon by the general population; concocting hallucinogenic poisons that could unlock her psychic ability. Every night, as often as she could. Always in the studio.
At first, Wednesday was stung by a bee when working on the hives with Eugene. It had been a bee from her own hive that she had been nurturing of a particular strain that Uncle Fester had gifted her. She doesn’t remember much of what happened after she was stung, only that she ended up in the hospital wing and a warning from the new Headmaster (which she ignored).
The hallucination had been an interesting one. It started with just the howling screams of a man in pain. Nothing but blackness and the exclamations of his pain. It was fine at first until it started to sound familiar and then it irritated her. Someone needed to put the man out of his misery. The world around her shifted and molted into a fanciful living room where a tall, sharply dressed man with a cane (he clearly didn’t need) looked down on her in disgust.
“I have no use for a crippled heir,” the man spat. Suddenly, his cane transformed into a snake and slid towards her, “Prove to me you are still capable, turn it back.”
The snake grew longer and longer, wrapping its body around hers until it opened its mouth, displaying its sharp fangs and forked tongue before lunging at her.
That is where the vision ended. It had been thrilling and exciting. Was it a vision or a hallucination? Whatever it was, it had finally gotten her blood pumping. Wednesday had finally found something worthy of her attention. She began experimenting with the bees’ poisonous venom to try and find a way to prolong the visions.
It started off as droplets under her tongue but those didn’t provide nearly as clear a picture as she wanted. Wednesday upped the dosage. It worked for all of a week before all it did was put her to sleep. Wednesday decided that the only way was through the vein. She wasn’t that insane, she started with only a drop, but my what just a drop could do.
Wednesday had been transported to the land of shadows. The faint sound of someone playing the cello could be heard. Monsters lurked around every corner, leering at her from the dark with their big eyes. Shadow spiders crawled up and down the rooms of the castle she explored. It was all so eerie and fascinating. Wednesday was thinking that perhaps her next novel would be a fantasy horror.
The music grew louder as she traversed up a winding staircase. Once at the top, she was greeted by an ornate stone door that was too heavy to open. So she just stood there, staring at this fancy door and listening to the crescendo of the piece. Once silence had settled from the space beyond, Wednesday knocked.
There was more silence following her raps. Then, the door emitted a low groan as it slowly opened, revealing the Wednesday from Xavier’s drawing– the one Wednesday was passed out under.
Charcoal Wednesday beckoned Wednesday in.
The vision ended there. Injecting the venom yielded exponentially rewarding results. Wednesday made note of this and then began dosing more and more. By October, she was injecting 150ml of venom once a day, lasting her a high of 3 hours before spitting her back out to reality where she would scrape herself off the floor of the studio and return to her room. Wednesday had started to lose weight due to the venoms side-effects; vomiting and decreased appetite.
Once back in her dorm, Wednesday would sit at her type-writer and crank out as many pages of her new novel as she could before passing out– sometimes literally much to Enid and Thing’s worry.
Wednesday started speaking less- not that she had much to say to others, to begin with - between her novel and her scientific journal she had to save her words. She stopped attending any form of club activities and made her grades slipped- only by a few marks, but still. She grew even paler- which she would have liked if she ever realized -and smaller- much to the fear of Enid and Thing.
Thing could only watch as she poisoned herself every night in the name of psychic enhancement. At first, it was just another Wednesday Addams psychotically quirky hobby, but now Thing worried that his charge was becoming addicted. She had forbidden him from sharing the information with her family, Enid, Bianca, Ajax, teachers, police, and any other authority figure. Wednesday had been sure to list out exact names just in case Thing decided to try and find a loophole.
The visions weren’t always visions. Sometimes they really were just hallucinations. It was difficult to tell at times. There had been one particular hallucination that haunted her.
She is slow dancing in the ballroom of the shadow castle. Her face is pressed to the chest of the person holding her. It feels fuzzy and warm. That’s how she knows it’s a hallucination. The embrace didn’t feel stifling, it feels soothing. The music is a soft hum about them. Charcoal instruments are floating about the space, swaying with their own respective partners on the dance floor.
Wednesday looks up, expecting to see a charcoal figure but instead meeting the splendidly green eyes of Xavier Thorpe. His hands encircle her waist, hoisting her up with the surge in the music and keeping them in motion. Hallucination-Xavier’s touch is tight on her. It’s only a hallucination, so Wednesday let herself revel in the possessive touch.
“You should’ve asked me to the Rave’n,” he smirks at her.
“I did ask you to the Rave’n,” she reminds his hallucinatory double. The music begins to end.
“You should’ve gone with me, I mean,” he pulls away from her, only to lean in and whisper the words to the back of her hand and press a warm kiss there. It’s then that she sees how scarred this Xavier’s hands are, as though they had been cut open and sewn back together. They looked more like Thing’s but with more scars and fewer stitches.
A familiar dizziness starts within her, letting her know that her time in the hallucination is almost over. Wednesday steels herself against the tide of reality. If she has to go back to her droll reality, then she at least wants something this think about during the day.
Wednesday pulls alternate Xavier down by the lapels of his suit jacket and folds her arms around his neck. He melts into her, curving his long body into hers.
“I miss you,” she breathes.
“Nevermore not enough to keep the infamous Wednesday Addams entertained anymore?” he teases.
“It’s all boring.” They let her words sit in the air, holding one another close. The world around them dissolves slowly away.
“I miss you too, Wednesday.”
Then her world tunnels back to reality.
Wednesday wanted to see Xavier again. She wanted to ask him about his hands, where he had been, and what he had drawn. Was he bored like her? Did he still remember that time they placed poisonous baby tadpoles in the punch bowl at some get-together when they were younger?
The days went on boring as ever. Until one October night, Wednesday had another fascinating venom trip.
She is back in the charcoal castle, wandering its halls. The black and white girl in the black and white world. Wednesday comes across the castle gardens– black white and shades of gray like the rest of the world. There are roses with an eye where the bud should be and giant venus fly traps. It is a lovely place.
The melodic noise of two birds chirping draws her in deeper through the grounds until she sees a lonesome figure watching the charcoal birds flutter about. Wednesday approaches at a measured pace until finally catching the attention of the man.
“Wednesday?” Xavier sounds surprised, “What are you doing here?”
“I was taking a stroll through the garden,” she explains, “There is a particularly fascinating species of roses.” He grins at her widely and crosses the yard to her.
“It must be my lucky day,” he swiftly picks her princess style and returns to his seat now with her in his lap. He leans his head against hers and watches her dark eyes.
Wednesday is strangely comforted by the gesture and okay with his familiarity. Hallucinatory Xavier is a piece of her own psyche after all. Perhaps her id is trying to tell her something.
“Torture any poor souls today,” Xavier asks, a tease written all about his features.
“Only Enid and Thing,” she deadpans, and he throws his head back in laughter.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, another mystery for detective Wednesday? Make sure to catch the right guy on the first try this time,” Xavier’s tone is light, but she can’t help but sour at the comment. He brings his hands up to gently play with her braids causing a brief tingle every time his hands brushed her skin. “C’mon, you must be off to the next great adventure.”
Wednesday pauses and mulls over his words. What had she been up to? Class was boring. She hadn’t been to any club activities in a while. Mostly Wednesday just kept to herself, her novel, and her experiments.
“If you must know, these are the most interesting part of my days,” She sighs and gives into the urge to lean into him. Xavier slides his hands up and down her back and sides. He rests his lips against her forehead. It feels like a small tectonic plate movement– just enough to let you know it’s there and cause a slight uptick in one’s heart.
“That’s no good, you should definitely leave then,” he murmurs encouragingly.
They sit wrapped in the warmth of one another in the black-and-white world.
“But if you don’t leave, I think I’ll finally get to see the real you again,” he whispers as he drags his nose into her hair and down to her ear, pressing his lips ever so slightly to the space behind it. The gentle touch causes goosebumps to prickle up her neck. The dreaded vertigo is back. She grips onto him tighter then. “I’ll see you soon, arañita.”
Wednesday thinks she will need to up her dosage again. In fact, it’s all she can think about the next day in class, so she skips after third period. Wednesday Addams isn’t interested in learning today.
Enid finds her during lunch in the Nightshade library and forces her to the courtyard so she can keep an eye on her. Wednesday doesn’t fight her. She knows how worried Enid is. If her heart didn’t feel so frozen, perhaps she would feel something like guilt.
They sit with other girls from Ophelia hall, Enid begins chatting away happily, whilst Wednesday replays last night’s hallucination in her head again. She has just gotten to hallucinatory-Xavier picking her up when she hears “Oh my god” uttered from Enid’s mouth and silence from the usually buzzing courtyards.
Wednesday looks up to find Enid’s- and everyone else’s- eyes glued to a spot behind her. Wednesday twists her head around to see what has caused such a disturbance– curiosity at real-life piquing for the first time in weeks.
And there he is, the man of her hallucinations, Xavier Thorpe in the flesh. He stands tall in his Nevermore uniform. Purple looks good on him, better than black and white. Xavier is listening to whatever it is the new headmaster is saying, ignoring the stares of the entire student body. He is wholly the same as she remembers him except for…
He catches her eye and waves a gloved hand, suddenly everyone is looking at her. Gloves. Interesting. How incredibly interesting.