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Tyler Galpin had been, if not, the perfect boy for his Wednesday. At first, it had been a passing joke. That Wednesday too would meet her fated one in Nevermore. So when Thing would brief them about her progress in Nevermore the two were startlingly surprised and honestly a little excited to share the good news with the family.
“A normie?” Morticia echoes, staring off into the horrid colorful sunset. The last time a normie fell for Morticia the worst had happened. What’s to say history would not repeat itself?
The next time Thing spoke to them, Morticia had let out a relieved sigh. In her days as captain of the fencing team, Tyler’s mother, Francois was nothing if not intelligent and kind to her peers.
“Do you perhaps remember what she identified as, Cara mia? ”
A beautiful frown graces her features. “I don’t remember asking, Gomez. But I’m sure it will be fine.”
Pugsley joined the succeeding session. The Rave’N sparked bad memories for them but perhaps things would go well for their daughter this time. True to their beliefs, it did somehow go well for Wednesday and the Galpin boy but the mysterious monster wreaking havoc around town targeted their daughter’s friend, Eugene.
Then came the Parents’ Weekend. The past inevitably caught up to them and in between defending Gomez’s innocence and unearthing graves, they had very little time to meet the boy who had ensnared their daughter’s trust and attention.
Fester had been their backup plan. Overall, he was pleasantly surprised by their dynamic.
“She didn’t even move!” Fester relayed through the crystal ball, slurping on what seemed to be a tall red container. “You know how sensitive she is with other people.”
Gomez couldn’t hide the smirk from curling his lips nor can Morticia suppress her elated grin.
Things were going well.
Until it didn’t.
Like what had happened to them before, an obstacle was placed within the confines of the budding relationship between the future pair.
Tyler was the Hyde controlled by Laurel Gates who had masqueraded as a normie teacher. She manipulated the poor boy, drugged him and abused him. The knowledge of Tyler’s peculiarity became a liability and soured Wednesday’s heart.
Truly, the Addams family would settle for nothing else.
Before Wednesday’s return, a rather unexpected visitor came knocking at the door.
“Sheriff Galpin.” Frowns Morticia. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A parent stood before them. One who had deeply grieved over the loss of his wife—kept her true nature a secret in fear of destroying his only family left. His misfortune had stemmed from the secret and now he must pay for it.
“Gomez Addams. Your brother Fester Addams, he’s met a Hyde before, didn’t he?” The couple shared a look. Lurch lets the soaking Sheriff in, brewing a cup of warm tea. “ Please , maybe he could help my son.” Beseeches Donovan Galpin, withering on the floor, knees bent, head lowered to the Addams Patriarch's dress shoes. “I need your help.”
They would have done anything, everything for their children. Donovan Galpin was no exception.
“Stand up, Sheriff.” Gomez offers a hand. “Your tea is getting cold.”
(Nobody knows how the Hyde escaped from the heavily armored car. There were no witnesses, no bodies, even blood. It was as if everything simply vanished into the air like smoke.)
The whole family could read her like an open book. Wednesday may seem unperturbed by his escape but she cannot hide anything from her family—especially with matters of the heart.
Pugsley begrudgingly accepted the task of receiving the short end of the stick. She was relentless in her pursuit of bullying her brother. (Not that she was as less vigorous as she was pre-Tyler Galpin but there are obvious signs of uncontrollable bursts of anger swimming within her dead eyes.
And so the semestral break ends.
Fester, recently having finished business came just in time to see Wednesday off, decked in a full bear suit suitable for his Siberian trips.
Wednesday looks at him inquisitively. “Siberia? It’s too early, Uncle Fester.”
Fester deflects her suspicion with a wave of his hand. “I brought you a gift to make up for last time.”
Her eyes gleam in excitement for his gifts never disappoints. “And where is said gift?”
“You’ll know when you see it.” Grins Fester, dusting off bits of snow from his head.
Wednesday boards the car. She had been insistent on departing alone and given the opportunity, they have seized it.
“Do remember to call once you’ve settled in again, Wednesday!” Morticia calls out, sniffling.
“I’ll miss you Wednesday!” Pugsley utters from the roof, waving a white flag still nursing bruises from her last prank.
She doesn’t call them very long. It has been, in fact approximately 7 hours, 28 minutes, and 12 seconds since her departure, and assuming that the journey would have taken her 6 hours at most, Wednesday probably had met him already. The gift. The boy. The barista. The serial killer. Whichever title suits best.
“Where is Uncle Fester.” Deadpans Wednesday. Light curls bounce at the corner of the ball accompanied by low, guttural groaning. It’s too forced out to be considered a painful response to the stimulating affliction. An apex predator pretending to be weak? That’s a first.
Fighting a smirk takes considerable effort. Especially for a man such as Gomez Addams who was known for wearing his heart on his sleeve. He turns away from the camera echoing the name of the boy’s mentor.
The ceiling rains with dust as Fester pulls his trapdoor open, dangling over a wooden beam in concentration.
“This is your gift?” Wednesday sighs, exasperated.
A mop of curls that could only ever belong to a certain Tyler Galpin is nestled in between her thighs, locked in a figure-four chokehold position. Fester wipes a nostalgic tear from his right eye, reminiscing Wednesday’s childhood and how she had mastered the art of choking by the age of seven years old.
They watch entranced as Tyler wiggles in her grip still masquerading as a caged animal. The oldest trick in the book is to catch your opponent by surprise and Wednesday equipped with a sharp mind still has fallen into his deception. There are obvious signs of distress on her end when the taller boy shoves his shoulder out to push at her knee with enough room to withdraw his right arm, locking her other knee in place with his weight pushing her down.
Fester jumps down, ticking an imaginary list in the air with an impressed nod. “Your position is good, Tyler. Brava. You did well.”
Tyler smirks, preoccupied by Wednesday’s feeble attempts at escaping. He has to hold her down securely or else she’ll slither out of his grasp like a snake and Wednesday was nothing, if not crafty. He wouldn’t take any more chances.
“Thank you, Uncle Fester.”
“I should’ve known!” Croaks Wednesday, her face turning into an awful shade of blue. Certainly a lovely color on her face that a familiar feeling resurfaces from his body. Still, she is unable to face defeat. She truly is a cockroach. Unkillable and stubborn to a fault.
Tyler looks down at her with a sneer. “Just admit it, Wednesday. You lost to me.” Excited glances are shared behind the crystal ball. “Yield to me, now.”
Wednesday sputters and through gritted teeth, surrenders. Tyler smiles in relief, lifting half of his weight off her body but still caging her in. Eyes blown wide at the sight of his mark around her neck. The feeling intensifies. Thing scurries to them from the corner of the ball, handing Tyler a bottle of water and some ointment for her bruises.
“Thanks, Thing.” Tosses the ointment somewhere around Enid’s stuffed dolls and reserving the water for later after Wednesday decides to communicate peacefully.
Wednesday attempts to push him off, but he is heavier and she had just been recently removed from his chokehold. The familiar embers of rage igniting her dark eyes. “I can do it myself.”
He simply shrugs. “Of course you do, you’ve got hands. Don’t you?” Tyler can see through her attempt miles away, catches her wrist before it claws at his face. “I’ll do it myself then.”
“Tyler,” Gomez clears his throat making it known that there are other people on the other side of the crystal ball and as much as his heart is rejoicing over their successful reunion, he would rather not be privy to their personal business. “How are things?”
Gomez remembers Donovan Galpin’s relieved smile, his blue eyes lighting up each time he was to recount Fester’s update reports. Tyler had never once spoken to him after the terrible tragedy that befell him.
Although the boy did know one thing—it was his father who picked him up at his worst, employing the help of his former enemy in hopes of making amends for his cowardice.
“Thanks for giving me another chance, Mr. Addams.”
The boy clearly meant his words, the sincerity bleeding through his dark and misguided heart. Gomez acknowledges Tyler’s appreciation with a slow nod, shifting his gaze under Tyler’s chin. Wednesday’s boring a hole through the boy’s neck.
“I’d do the same for my children. For my Wednesday and Pugsley.” His words inspire a wide smile from Tyler’s mouth, eyes even crinkling into a smile. It was no wonder Wednesday gravitated around the boy—he had an air of normalcy in him but underneath that layer of forged memories and suppressed emotions was something else entirely.
It is a fascinating sight to behold, conversing with a civilized Hyde. Gomez had never once doubted Fester’s skills as a proficient teacher. His brother’s patronage was certainly successful. Under his care did Tyler learn to be a master of his own being. Control was extremely important for every little thing could trigger a Hyde without a master.
(The background noise is too easy to ignore. Wednesday’s low retort sounding suspiciously like: “Don’t trust his innocent facade, Father!”
Pugsley quips, “Like you did?”
“Hush, children.” Morticia shoots them a patronizing smile. “Your father is speaking.”)
“I do hope you like Nevermore so far.” Morticia steps forward. Wednesday’s confused look does not go unnoticed.
Tyler shifts closer, knees digging into the texture of Wednesday’s custom-tailored uniform.
“Headmistress Ophelia was very kind. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for the ban concerning Hydes would be lifted.”
Morticia leans into Gomez’s space, a distressed hand pressed on her forehead. “I had to surrender a few of my carnivorous plants, you see. My sister adores them. It pains my heart to have departed from them.”
“Aunt Ophelia?”
“I am indebted to you.” Tyler lowers his head, fingers trailing over Wednesday’s confused features. Caressing her braided hair, running over her forehead, down to the slope of her nose, and finally ending at the bow of her puckered lips. She lunges forward, swallowing a thumb in her mouth, biting down on it hard . The pain does not deter him. Tyler does not mind. He allows her to take her fill, smirk growing wider with each passing moment Wednesday realizes that nothing could work on him.
The door opens and closes. Ophelia stands behind them, orbs swimming in nostalgia. Does not make a move to stop them.
“Sister, dear! I am quite sorry to interrupt, but may I borrow these two for the moment?”
“Of course, of course! Do not mind us. We do not want to challenge your authority this early on.”
She twirls around in her dress. “You heard him, Tyler. Wednesday. I expect you to be done within two minutes.”
The door clicks shut.
“Be nice, Wednesday.” Advices Morticia.
And as Tyler peels himself away from Wednesday, Gomez addresses the boy’s earlier concern. “You are family, Tyler and we will do everything for the family.”