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Xavier threw the phone at the wall as hard as he could, letting out a frustrated shout as he did. Why did he think calling his father was a good idea? The man brushed him off any chance he could. Too worried about his business and his show and his public life and- and really anything that wasn't his son. He had wanted to talk to his father about his dreams, and he had once again been turned away by the man's assistant.
He huffed again and grabbed the closest thing to throw at the wall again. A cushion this time. It was probably a good thing he didn't have another roommate.
Groaning, he pushed away the thought of roommates. Rowan did not need to be in his mind too.
Once he no longer felt the need to throw something, he flopped onto his bed, letting the anger drain out. It slowly got replaced by guilt.
What right did he have to think like that? His father had given him everything in his power. His money was the reason Xavier had the best of the best in the world. So what if he was a bit distant? He always encouraged his art by getting him the best supplies. He was always there for the holidays. Sure, he was still working, but he made an effort. He wasn't left alone; he was given a roof and food and eventually boarding school.
His father was good to him. He had it good.
Sighing again, he wondered what he could do to get his mind off the call. He was not in the right mindset to sit and paint. Ajax was gone on a date with Enid. It was a bright and sunny Saturday, so almost everyone he knew would be in Jericho.
Well, almost everyone.
Wednesday Addams, the outcast school's weirdo, did not like sunny days. She would be inside, in the shadows, waiting out the sun. It was a good thing Jericho didn't have too many of them.
Their relationship was a little odd, a little bit friends, maybe a little bit more. She tolerated his presence the same as Enid and Eugene's and let him buy her interesting and dark presents. She stayed with him in his art studio to watch him paint her and played his favourite piece coincidentally when he was feeling down. She even let him close enough to hold his hand, which he knew was quite a declaration from her. She had even let him vent a couple of times. Maybe she would do it again.
Mind made up, Xavier went to pick up his phone. Thankfully, the screen saver was only a little chipped. He'd have to replace it.
X: Hey. Are you writing?
W: No
He waited for further explanation, but none came. That was typical, though. He didn't take it as discouragement.
X: What are you doing?
W: Laying in bed, thinking of murder.
Of course, she was.
X: May I join you?
No response.
Good thing Xavier wasn't above acting like a pathetic puppy.
X: Please Wednesday?
The response came slower this time. But it came.
W: Your pleading is acknowledged. You can come up. Do not get caught.
Xavier smiled and set off.
xxx
Wednesday put the phone down and went back to staring at the ceiling.
Xavier hadn't tried to make small talk and had gotten to the point. Interesting.
He had said please. Also very interesting.
Wednesday had a working theory. It would either be proven or disproved when Xavier got there.
Eventually, there was a knock at her door, and Xavier slipped in before she could say anything. Wednesday didn't mind. It had become their habit, after all. She sat up so she could take a good look at him. He seemed a bit dishevelled, a little bit agitated and very much upset if the red in his eyes was anything to go by. Though, it could be from sleeplessness as well. The bags under his eyes certainly showed it.
The boy was also fiddling with the phone in his pocket.
So it was as she had expected. He had tried calling his father and had been turned away.
One of these days, she was going to send Mr. Thorpe a box of mousetraps.
"Hey, Wednesday," he said, taking a seat by her on the bed as she sat cross-legged. He leaned in a bit so their shoulders and arm were touching. An odd action since usually he would wait a bit before initiating contact, scared of her pulling away as she had done in the beginning. She didn't mind it much anymore, so she refrained from commenting.
"Hello, Xavier," she said, leaning back against the wall, "I'm surprised you're still in. I expected you would be one of those people that likes these insufferable sunny days"
"I usually do," he said. As he adjusted himself, his arm slipped around her waist. Again, Wednesday did not necessarily mind, but it was odd that he was behaving like this. Maybe she had allowed him so many times that he didn't think he had to ask. "I just didn't feel like going out today. Thought I might come and see you,"
"Hmm," she answered. That wasn't what had happened, though. He had practically begged to see her, and by now, he was more or less leaning into her like an over-eager puppy. This, she had to comment on.
"You seem particularly pathetic and clingy today," she told him. "Any particular reason?"
Wednesday had expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, move away with a joke or even apologize and make a crack at her weirdness. What she did not expect was the small flinch as he quickly moved away, the soft, hurt look in his eyes before they were lowered or the way his hands were held tightly together, almost like he was making them forcibly stay in place.
Before she could think twice about it, she reached out and grabbed his hand back, "It was an observation. I did not say you had to stop,"
"Yeah?" he said softly, still looking a little afraid. Still hunched into himself.
Forget the mousetraps. She was going to set Vincent Thorpe on fire. After she gave him cyanide.
"Yes," she said, gentler than she was used to, "Come here." She maneuvered them until he was leaning against her, head propped just under her shoulder. Due to the height difference, she had to half-sit and half-lean back so he could situate himself more comfortably. She found that she did not mind. One of her arms wound up around him, gently stroking his hair. He was making himself small, curled into her, so unlike how he usually was. Her comment must have really hit a nerve, a new raw nerve considering she made comments like that all the time.
Everyone made good-natured comments about him acting like a puppy around her, and she had to agree. However, he was a puppy who growled and bit back and never rolled over without a good challenge. She liked that version of her puppy. Not this. This sad, kicked-over boy. She had to fix it.
Wednesday brought her other hand over, gently tapping his forehead. His eyes followed her every move, closing as she touched him softly.
She did not know the best way to comfort people, she had not tried in a long time. The only thing she had to fall back on was what she had seen her mother with others. She ignored the fact that everything she had done up until now had been in the image of her mother too.
Words weren't her forte, though, not the way they were Morticia's, so she settled in and waited, hoping that Xavier would speak first.
xxx
It wasn't long before Xavier got comfortable, and then the words started pouring out.
"It's just my dad, you know," he starts, and as he speaks, his hands become more animated, "would it kill him to just answer his phone once in a while or just pay attention to what's going with his only child," and now he was sitting up again, though legs still pressed against hers. "You would think with all the money he throws at me, he would at least pay attention to where it's going. Sometimes I'm tempted to blow away money on stuff he wouldn't approve of just to see what the limit is, for god's sake. I know his assistants better than I know him. It's so humiliating. They all know he wants nothing to do with me. And why the hell does he need three, anyway? Like, isn't one enough"
He takes a deep breath.
"And I know I should be grateful, and I am; it's just, why can't he be around more? He buys me a great gift for my birthday but won't be around to hand it to me. He'll make sure I have everything for school, but god forbid we say a proper goodbye, or he actually drops me off. He just- just doesn't make any sense!"
Finally, running out of breath slumped back down into his previous position, once again tucking himself against her.
This time when he spoke, his voice came out soft, "It would be easier if he were awful, you know. He's good when he's around. It's just he rarely ever is,"
There was no response from Wednesday at first. A few beats and then-
"Would you like me to send him an active bear trap?"
"What?!" He knew Wednesday's verbal comforting skills weren't great, so he hadn't known what to expect. This definitely wasn't it, though.
"I was thinking of cyanide, but only an Addams would come out of it intact, and it doesn't seem like you want to harm your father permanently," her eyes were blank and contemplative. "The bear trap would only maim. What do you think?"
Wednesday started at him unblinkingly.
Xavier stared back.
Her lip twitched a little.
He burst out laughing.
"Oh my God, Wednesday!" he said as he gasped for breath.
"Why are you laughing? I am serious,"
Xavier just laughed harder, pressing his face into her shoulder. Maybe she was serious, maybe she was joking. Either way, Xavier felt much better.
"Thanks, Wednesday," he told her once his laughter died down, "But I don't think that's necessary. I don't actually want to hurt my father,"
"I could send him a strongly worded letter. Or even a phone call. I'm sure I can best those assistants of his,"
Xavier smiled and shook his head, warmth swelling in his chest. It felt good to have someone like Wednesday, notoriously known to stay away from others, want to defend him so passionately.
"It's fine, Wednesday," he said, sitting up, so they were face to face, "Just- thank you for listening. It means a lot,"
She sniffed, "Don't get used to it. It won't happen again,"
Xavier smiled. They both knew it was a lie, but he answered with a demure 'of course' anyway.
"So, did you finish the short story for class? What is it about?" he asked her.
"It's a horror story about a haunted girl,"
"Of course it is," he said, "Mine's about an artist that draws the present as it happens,"
"Of course it is," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Aren't we becoming predictable,"
Xavier smiled, "Just to each other, I think,"
Wednesday hummed in what could almost be called agreement. The fact made him remarkably happy.
xxx
Wednesday still didn't think she was very good at comforting or being a comforting person, but Xavier was sitting on her bed, talking with a smile on his face. She must be doing something right.
Maybe there was some merit to being a bit like her mother.
Of course, she wasn't going to think of that right now. Right now, she was going to listen to Xavier and keep the bear trap idea in the back of her mind.
Vincent Thorpe better watch out.