Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were few things that irked Wednesday Addams more than an unsolved problem. She preferred her world to be black-and-white, cut-and-dry, logical—without a hint of uncertainty. Unfortunately for her, Tyler Galpin was none of those things.

            He had entered her life as an unassuming normie—less despicable than most, to be sure, but almost excruciatingly normal. His strange fondness for her had been somewhat of an annoyance, yet not entirely intolerable. As time passed, she had even begun to think that she might be fond of him too.

Then, in a single moment, her understanding of him had been flipped on its head. She wasn’t often wrong, but even she could admit she had been terribly wrong about Tyler. He was the Hyde, the serial killer, the monster lurking in the woods. He hated outcasts, and above all—he hated her. She had never been anything more than a pawn in his game, and as a fellow chess master, she couldn’t help begrudgingly admiring his prowess.

And so, her mind had tossed out “Tyler-Galpin-the-unassuming-normie” in favor of “Tyler-Galpin-the-serial-killer-Hyde.” As he transformed before her eyes in the woods, she had had no doubt that he was about to finish what Thornhill had failed to do. She had known—with black-and-white certainty—that she was about to die.

But then her newly revised paradigm had shifted once again. For no matter how many times she replayed it in her head, she knew that she hadn’t imagined it.

Tyler had hesitated.

He had had a chance to kill her before Enid came to her rescue, yet he had failed. The next logical question was why. She could see no advantage to be gained, no reason for delaying her death any further. She had fulfilled her purpose, so getting rid of her was the only sensible response. But then, why hadn’t he? She had spent the last several hours lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as she turned the problem around in her head, yet no answers were forthcoming.

Tyler Galpin was an enigma that she couldn’t puzzle out—and it was threatening to drive her mad.

She finally sprang upright in bed, like a daisy popping out of a grave bed. Research was needed, and she had an idea of where to begin.

“Thing,” she said, “I need you to bring me Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary. Start your search in Thornhill’s room. It’s likely still there.”

As Thing scuttled out of the room, she flicked on the lights and settled at her desk to wait. She was determined to get to the bottom of this, even if it took all night. After all, there were few things she despised more than an unsolved problem. Her obsession had nothing to do with the aching, asthma-like sensation in her chest every time she thought of Tyler. Nothing at all.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

            The next morning Wednesday strode into the police station, clutching Nathaniel Faulkner’s leather-bound diary under arm. Most would have said her expression—or lack thereof—was the same as usual, but those who knew her best would take one look and know to be wary. The gleam in her eyes said she was chasing a lead and would plow over anyone or anything who stood in her way.

            She made a beeline for the sheriff’s office, entering without knocking as usual. She found Sheriff Galpin poring over some documents. He glanced up and met her gaze, and she noted that he seemed to have aged a decade overnight.

            “What do you want, Addams?”

            “I’m here to see Tyler. Where is he?”

            He leaned back in his chair wearily. “As much as I’m sure you’d like to kill him, Addams, I can’t allow it. He’s in the hands of the law now. A van will be here in an hour to take him to a secure penitentiary facility.”

            “I’m not here to kill him. Now, answer my question. Where is he?”

            Sheriff Galpin’s eyes flickered with some emotion—anger, perhaps. “We aren’t allowing visitors. Even I haven’t been able to see him.”

            Her patience with this charade was quickly wearing thin. She leaned forward, planting her hands on his desk. “You’re the sheriff,” she said, her voice as dry as dust. “Make an exception.”

            “Why do you want to see him so badly?”

            “Because I can help him.”

            “Help him?” Sheriff Galpin echoed, incredulity clear on his face. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

            Wednesday resisted the urge to gouge her eyes out. Conversing with narrow-minded people tended to have that effect on her.

“I’ll answer your question with another,” she said. “If there’s even a chance that what I say is true, why wouldn’t you at least try?”

            Sheriff Galpin stared at her, and she matched his gaze without blinking. Finally, he heaved a long sigh and fished out a set of keys from his pocket.

            “Come on, then,” he said, moving to stand.

            “One more thing,” she said. “Regardless of what happens in there, I need you to stay out of it.”

            He shook his head. “I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous he is, Addams. If anything happened—”

            “Sheriff Galpin,” she said firmly. “I assure you that I have it under control. I need you to trust me, no matter what it looks like. Is that understood?”

            “Fine,” he agreed at last. “Just don’t get yourself killed. I have enough of a mess to deal with here already.”

Her lips twitched slightly. If he had given any other explanation, she would have made

him regret it, but she understood his sentiment. Death was not to be feared, but it could be terribly inconvenient at times.

“Your concern is unnecessary,” she informed him. “I have already made detailed plans for my eventual demise, and none of them include being mauled by a monster in a backwater police station.”

Sheriff Galpin simply shook his head, saying nothing as he led her down a long, narrow hallway. They stopped in front of a reinforced metal door—a strange thing to come across in a small-town jail like this one.

“I had this cell made after everything happened with Tyler’s mother,” the sheriff explained, unlocking the door. “Just in case.”

“I see.” It was always wise to be prepared, and she could appreciate the twistedness required to create a cage that you knew might one day hold your son.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” he told her. “Press the red button next to the door when you’re ready to leave.”

She nodded to show that she understood, then pulled open the door, straining slightly from the weight.

“And Addams?” Sheriff Galpin said.

She turned impatiently to look at him.

“Good luck.”

“I would prefer if you cursed me,” she replied flatly.

She stepped inside, the door closing behind her with a clang of finality. There was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

            The cell was about average, as far as cells went. It wasn’t nearly damp enough, and there was a disappointing lack of cobwebs, but it served its purpose.

Tyler sat in a chair at the back of the room. He wore a straitjacket with thick metal chains binding his chest and arms. His head raised at the sound of the door, and from his bleary expression it was clear that he had been tranquilized. It appeared that Sheriff Galpin wasn’t taking any chances. 

Wednesday’s pulse quickened at the sight of him, which didn’t make much sense. Straitjackets and chains were alright, she supposed, but a bit too mild for her taste. She preferred more...painful methods of restraint. After all, it wasn’t fun if the subject wasn’t screaming—or at least groaning.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tyler said huskily.

His eyes were dull and lifeless, rivaling even her own. Looking into them was almost enough to give her chills. Impressive.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” she asked.

His head drooped again. “I tried, but your little wolf friend got in my way.”

“No, you hesitated.” He stared at her blankly, so she continued. “You had a chance to kill me before Enid arrived, but you didn’t. I want to know why.”

“How should I know?” he said tiredly. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“I thought not,” she replied, “but I have a theory.”

“Wednesday—” he began.

“You love me.”

Her voice was steady and matter of fact, as if she were stating that the sky was blue, but Tyler jerked abruptly. “What?”

With deft fingers, she flipped to the earmarked page in the diary and held it open for him to see.

“What is this?” he asked, taking in the drawings and scrawling script.

“It’s Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary. He was renowned for traveling the world and documenting outcast communities. This is his chapter on Hydes.” She pointed to a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “Read this.”

She was surprised when he obeyed readily—perhaps it was a conditioned response from the Hyde/master relationship.

“The Jekyll,” he began. “A Hyde with an established master has no choice but to obey their orders. There is one exception to this, but it is exceedingly rare. When a Hyde is connected strongly with someone—most often in a manner of romantic attraction—they may be able to resist their master’s orders and learn to control their abilities with this person’s aid. This individual is called the Jekyll, as they are able to bring out the human side of the Hyde.”

He fell silent as he finished, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. She tried not to be impatient—being tranquilized tended to slow one’s cognitive function, after all.

She had learned that through a great deal of experimentation, most often with Pugsley serving as her faithful test subject.

“So you’re saying that you’re my...Jekyll?” Tyler said at last.

“Correct.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s crazy. You’re basing all this on—what? Something you think you saw happen in the woods? I was going to kill you, Wednesday, just like I killed all those other people. I’m a monster, ok? Of all people, you’d be the last one I’d expect to try and redeem me.”

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t we test my theory?” she said evenly.

His eyes widened as she took a step towards him. “Wednesday, don’t—”

She ignored him, taking several more steps forward. She was within arm’s reach of him now.

Tyler turned his head away from her, futilely trying to maximize the distance between them. “Stay away,” he said thickly.

She came to stand directly in front of his chair, kneeling so their faces were almost touching. The closeness made her uncomfortable, but she squashed the feeling down mercilessly. This was all for the sake of cracking the case, she reminded herself.

Slowly, Tyler turned to face her, his eyes finding hers as though drawn by a strong magnetic force. They were no longer dull or lifeless—they were terrified. Wednesday’s lips twitched in satisfaction. Emotion somehow suited him.

“Go on,” she said in a low voice. “Laurel Gates ordered you to kill me, didn’t she? What are you waiting for?”

Tyler looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He squirmed in his chair, shaking his head desperately. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded.

But the Hyde was already taking over—his eyes bulging out of his head, large and bloodshot, and his skin turning gray and leathery. His form morphed and grew until it tore the straitjacket and strained at his chains.

Wednesday remained motionless, not even flinching as the creature’s hot breath tickled her face. It smelled deliciously of death and decay.

The Hyde began to growl loudly, struggling against its chains. Its gaze was fixed on something behind her. She looked over her shoulder and found Sheriff Galpin opening the door, gun in hand.

She sent him a withering glare. You gave me your word that you wouldn’t interfere. He hesitated, but finally nodded reluctantly and backed out of the room.

The Hyde quieted as soon as he was gone. Its growls grew softer, taking on an almost whimpering quality. Wednesday waited as the creature surveyed her. He could sever her head from her body in a single motion, but he merely sat there, staring at her.

After what seemed like ages but was in fact only a few moments, the transformation began again—glorious in its gruesomeness. It was only Tyler now, sagging limply in his chair and breathing heavily. Apparently the change took a toll on him, or perhaps it was due to the tranquilizer he was under.

She stood and brushed herself off, then picked up one of the larger pieces of shredded straitjacket and covered him with it decently.

“Is that sufficient proof for you?” she asked. “Or shall we do it again?”

“Fine,” he panted, “you win. What do you want from me?”

She almost blinked in surprise. What an absurd question. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to

help you control your powers.”

“So you want to help me out of the goodness of your heart? Doesn’t seem very characteristic of you.” He straightened slightly. “Wait, do you—?” He cut off, looking uncertain.

“Spit it out, Tyler. I despise it when people fail to complete their sentences.”

“I guess we both know how I feel, but do you...I mean, do you have feelings for me?”

“No,” she replied flatly. “I assure you that you are nothing to me.”

She watched the hope in his eyes flicker and die. It was not nearly as satisfying as it should have been.

“Then why?” he asked dully.

“There are few Hydes left in this world. I would be foolish to turn down an opportunity to study one up close. Still, I will not force you into this. If you would rather go to the penitentiary facility, I will leave you alone.”

He said nothing for a long moment. “You really think you can help me control it?” he asked at last.

“Faulkner’s diary has been right about everything else,” she replied.

He drew himself up, looking resolved. “Ok. I’ll do it.”

She nodded. “I will make the necessary arrangements with your father. Once you’re released, pack your bags and be at Nevermore’s gate at twelve o’clock sharp.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Are we going somewhere?”

“The term has ended early thanks to your and Thornhill’s murder spree. My family is arriving today to pick me up for our annual sojourn to Transylvania. You will be accompanying us as well.”

She walked to the front of the room and pressed the red button. The door swung open to admit her. “Remember,” she said over her shoulder, “twelve o’clock sharp.”

Sheriff Galpin was waiting for her in the hallway, looking stunned.

“I assume you have no objections?” she asked.

He shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I...no,” he stammered out at last, “thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she said dryly, “and besides, vacationing with my family is more torturous than any maximum-security penitentiary facility I’ve ever seen. Tyler may just live to regret his decision—assuming he lives at all.”

She returned the diary to her black knapsack. “I must be going now. I’ll leave the rest to you.”

With the police station behind her, she strode down the street, a sense of triumph permeating her every step. There was no enigma Wednesday Addams couldn’t solve—not even Tyler Galpin.

Chapter Text

Wednesday stood clutching her luggage as the Addams family hearse pulled up to Nevermore’s gate. Her mother was the first to emerge, hips swaying in a revolting manner as she approached.

            “Oh, my little rain cloud. How I’ve missed you,” she cried, arms opened wide for an embrace that Wednesday would rather be disemboweled than accept.

            Her father climbed out of the vehicle next, grinning widely. “Wednesday! How has my little viper been?”

            “There have been several more attempts on my life since your last visit, one of which was temporarily successful,” she told him flatly. “I’ve never been better.”

            “That’s my girl,” he said, beaming with pride.

            “Mother, father, I have invited an acquaintance to join us on our trip. He should be arriving shortly.”

            “A boy?” her mother asked. The eagerness in her face made Wednesday instantly wary. “What’s his name?”

            “Tyler.”

            “Is he your boyfriend?” Pugsley piped up.

            She shot him a dead-eyed stare. He would pay for that comment later in blood.

            “Tyler Galpin?” her father said. “The Hyde boy?”

            “One and the same.” Her parents were well-connected, so she had expected that they would have been informed already. That prevented her from having to make troublesome explanations.

“Oh darling, how exciting,” her mother said. “To think—having a Hyde as your first boyfriend! I am so very proud of you.”

            “He’s not my boyfriend. I am merely using him for personal gain.”

            Her parents exchanged knowing glances that immediately sent alarm bells ringing in her head.

            “We understand, my little scorpion,” her father said. “We promise to be on our best behavior so that we won’t embarrass you.”

            She opened her mouth to say that was a statistical impossibility, but at that moment, the Sheriff’s car pulled up beside them. Tyler climbed out of the front passenger seat, lugging his suitcase with him. A few words passed between him and his father that she couldn’t make out, then Sheriff Galpin tipped his hat politely at them before driving away.

            Tyler stood there awkwardly, looking uncertain. “Uh, hi, I’m Tyler.”

            “Yes, yes, we’ve heard all about you,” her mother said, flashing a smile that was nearly bright enough to sear Wednesday’s skin. “We’re so glad to have you traveling with us. We Addams have a saying, you know—the more the morbider.”

Wednesday barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Whichever one of their ancestors had

come up with that particular maxim deserved to be beheaded. Not only was it inane, it was a

grammatical abomination.

            Tyler smiled nervously. “Thanks, Mrs. Addams. Did Wednesday, uh...tell you about me?”

            “Of course,” her father said, “we know everything.” He put a strange emphasis on that

last word.

            “And you’re sure about this? I mean, I can transform into a monster, and I’ve already killed a bunch of people. I’ve even tried to kill Wednesday.”

            Her mother seized her father’s arm. “Isn’t he adorable, my love? Boasting in front of his future mother-and father-in-law to impress us.”

            “Indeed, mi tormenta.”

            Tyler looked torn between embarrassment and utter confusion. His face—including his ears—turned a very interesting shade of red.

            “Feel free to ignore everything they say,” she told him. “It’s the only way I’ve survived this long with my hearing intact. I’ve found that approximately 96% of what they say is senseless drivel anyway.”

            “Well then,” her mother said, clapping her hands, “shall we—as they say—hit the road?”

            Wednesday stared at her, face expressionless. “Do we have a choice?”

            “That’s the spirit, darling. It’s time for a good old-fashioned Addams vacation.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday had made a grave error in judgment. Never, not even under threat of death, should she have allowed herself to endure hours cramped in the car—not to mention an international flight—with her parents acting like a pair of dogs in heat. She should have made arrangements to accompany Tyler to the penitentiary facility instead. It was an oversight on her part, and now she was paying for it.

            Tyler had been on edge during the early part of their trip, no doubt fearing what would happen if he lost control while they were packed like sardines in a can, but he gradually relaxed. Although she hadn’t asked, he had informed her that his bond with Laurel seemed to be affected by distance. The further apart they were, the less control she had over him.

            By the time they set foot in Transylvania, he seemed to be almost enjoying himself—as unfathomable as that notion was. He sat close to the hearse’s window, taking in the dense forests and quaint country villages as they blurred past. Wednesday, meanwhile, sat stiffly and prayed that Lurch would somehow drive them off a bridge. Anything to stop her parents’ continual pawing at each other.

“Ah, there it is!” her father exclaimed at last. “Our home away from home for the next few weeks.”

            Tyler’s expression registered shock at the sight of the sprawling gothic castle that crowned the hill ahead of them. Against the background of the moonless sky, it looked like something straight out of Dracula. “That’s our hotel?”

            “Not a hotel, my dear boy,” her mother said silkily. “The entire estate is ours. It’s been owned by my ancestors for nearly eight centuries now. A great-great uncle of mine—a very entrepreneurial man—did attempt to turn it into a boardinghouse, but it didn’t go well, I’m afraid.”

            “Why not?” Tyler asked.

            “It’s considered to be one of the most haunted places in the world,” Wednesday said flatly. “Potential tenants took one look and fled.”

            “Yes,” her mother sighed, “unfortunately they failed to see that the bloodstains on the walls and the old torture relics merely add character.”

            “Oh...that’s, um, too bad,” Tyler said lamely.

            Lurch parked the hearse and Wednesday stepped out, inhaling deeply. The loamy Transylvania soil was one of her favorite scents—second only to rotting flesh. Tyler climbed out after her, craning his neck to gaze up at the massive stone turrets of the castle.

            “Lurch will handle your luggage, dear,” her mother told him. “Come with me, I’ll show you to our best guest room.”

            “No need, mother. He’ll be staying with me.”

            Tyler broke into a sudden coughing fit, but her mother only smiled. “Very well, darling. I’ll leave him to you then.”

            Wednesday strode towards the heavy front doors without a backward glance. “I’d advise you to keep up. There are enough trap doors and secret tunnels that you could get lost in here for days—and that’s given the unlikely assumption that I actually bother looking for you.”

            Tyler blinked in surprise, then trotted to catch up. “Hey, uh, are you sure about this whole sharing a room thing?”

            She shot him a level look. “You really think I’d let you out of my sight? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten what you are.”

            He flinched slightly and fell silent.

            She led the way through a maze of corridors and down several winding staircases to her room. It had once been part of the dungeon where torture was conducted. The room was cool and dank, with no windows. The only source of light came from a small overhead bulb. The stone walls were decorated with an array of old torture implements and human remains—skulls, mostly. In short, it was one of her favorite places in the world.

            She watched Tyler walk around the room, pausing now and then to examine a pair of rusted pliers or a saw. She searched his face for signs of disgust, but found only open fascination.

            She sat down on the edge of her bed. “I’ll have a cot brought in for you.”

            He nodded absently. “It’s strange. I can still feel her, but barely. Before, it was like she consumed every part of mind. There was no space for anything else.”

            There was no need to question who “she” was. “Good. That will make our work easier.”

            “Can I ask you something?” he said quietly.

            “You can ask, but there’s no guarantee I’ll answer.”

            “Why didn’t you kill her?”

            “Do you wish I had?” she asked steadily.

            His eyes skittered away from hers. “I...I don’t know.”

            She walked to the wall and ran her fingers lightly over a 13^th century guillotine blade—one of her personal favorites. “Death was too good for Laurel Gates. By leaving her alive, I have ensured that she will suffer at my hands for decades to come.”

            “But isn’t she going to prison?”

“I fail to see your point.”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“There is something I would like to make clear as well,” she said. “You do not need to ask my permission before speaking or acting. Laurel may be gone, but I have no intention of replacing her. I am not your master and I will make you regret it if you treat me as such. I am here to teach you to control the Hyde, and that is the extent of our relationship. Is that understood?”

Tyler nodded. “Yes.”

“Good, then tomorrow morning we’ll begin.”

Chapter Text

“Uh, Wednesday?” Anxiety was evident in Tyler’s voice. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

            They had trekked nearly half a mile to a remote part of the woods for their first practice session. Of course he chose this moment to get cold feet.

            “Don’t whine,” she said. “After analyzing every option, I’ve determined that this is the optimal method for teaching you to control the Hyde.”

            Tyler glanced sideways at Pugsley, who was contentedly munching on some trail mix. “You mean by using your brother as bait?”

            “I admit that he wasn’t my first choice, but he’ll suffice.” She had initially gone to her mother—thinking how convenient it would be if Morticia were to be involved in an unfortunate bear attack—but she had been otherwise...preoccupied. The image of her parents she had stumbled upon continued to fill her throat with bile every time she thought of it. It was a feeling akin to reflux, only infinitely worse.

            “Pugsley will be fine,” she told him firmly. “He’s experienced in these matters.”

            “It’s true,” her brother said around a mouthful of trail mix. “This isn’t half as bad as some of the things sis has had me do. Honestly, this is way better than being waterboarded.”

            Wednesday eyed him. “You are growing up, Pugsley. You are not nearly as soft, weak, and pathetic as the last time I saw you.”

            Her brother’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “Thanks, sis. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

            She nodded brusquely. “Now go over there and wait quietly until you’re needed.”

            He nodded and trotted off in the direction she had directed. Wednesday turned back to Tyler.

            “You two seem close,” he said, “...at least, I think.”

            “We have spent many hours practicing torture techniques together,” she replied flatly.

He glanced in Pugsley’s direction. “Are you sure about this? If I lose control...”

            “Your concern is unneeded.” She reached inside her blazer and pulled out an obsidian dagger. “I have prepared for every eventuality.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t a gun be better?”

            She wasn’t surprised by his response, but it was still irritating. She raised her chin slightly, accepting the challenge. “Stand against that tree and don’t move.”

            “Uh...ok?” He didn’t even question her as he moved to obey. He was still far too trusting for her liking, but she decided to let it slide this time.

            Once Tyler was in place, she released the dagger. There was a resounding crack as the blade struck wood. He turned his head slowly to see the dagger embedded a mere hair’s breadth from his head. He quickly stepped away from the tree and touched his ear, as if to ensure it was still intact.

            She casually retrieved the dagger and slid it back into her pocket with the others. “Like I said, I’m prepared for every eventuality. You should take off your clothes now.”

            He gaped at her as if she had sprouted wings. “W-What?”

            “Your clothes,” she said again. “There’s no point in being wasteful. You may find a tree to change behind if you insist on succumbing to needless embarrassment.”

            He shivered, but she was unable to ascertain whether it was from the cold or from dread at what was about to happen.

“Alright,” he said with obvious reluctance. “Just give me a minute.”

            Wednesday crossed her arms to wait as he slunk behind a tree like a guilty child afraid of being caught. Utter foolishness.

“Ok,” he called a minute later. “Are you guys ready?”

“We’re ready.”

There was answering silence. Wednesday was beginning to think he was going to try to back out again, but finally he said, “Ok. Here it goes.”

            Wednesday heard his transformation rather than saw it—cracking bones and guttural growls that weaker beings might have called hair-raising. The Hyde emerged, gazing at them with the bloodthirsty eyes of a predator.

            Wednesday stared back calmly until the creature’s gaze slid away from her. He had apparently realized that she was off-limits for potential prey, and turned his full attention to Pugsley instead. Her brother sat very still, gaping at the Hyde with a shocked expression. Perhaps she could have done more to prepare him—but where was the fun in that?

            The Hyde started to lope towards Pugsley, but she stepped smoothly in front of him, barring his way. “Tyler, stop. You don’t want to hurt him.”

            He had already explained to her that the Hyde was unable to understand speech, but she had to start somewhere. Unfortunately, Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary had contained nothing about how the Jekyll was supposed to help the Hyde control their powers.

            The Hyde growled and snapped viciously, enraged that someone had dared to stand between him and his quarry. He raised one gnarled, long-clawed hand toward her.

Pugsley called her name frantically, but she shook her head. “I’m fine, Pugsley. Stay where you are.”

Keeping her eyes fixed on the Hyde, she slowly extended her hand towards him. The creature hesitated, then wrapped his hand around her smaller one almost clumsily. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought that he was trying to avoid scratching her.

She braced herself for the wave of revulsion that occurred whenever she touched someone, but it never came. She would have reasoned that her aversion simply didn’t extend to non-human beings, but touching Tyler had never generated a negative response either. She stored the thought away for another time. Perhaps it was part of the connection between the Jekyll and the Hyde.

The effect of their hand-holding on the Hyde was immediate. He calmed and started whimpering softly, then the transformation began, leaving Tyler curled up on a bed of dead leaves. She picked up the blanket she had brought for this purpose and flung it over him.

“We’ve made enough progress for today,” she said. Pugsley hurried over with Tyler’s neatly folded clothes, and she tossed those at him as well. “Get dressed—we’re going back.”

Tyler nodded, teeth chattering as he complied. He didn’t quite meet her eyes.

Their walk back was impeded by Tyler’s slow progress. Apparently, the transformation made him feel like he had been run over by a truck. His words, not hers. She eventually ordered Pugsley to assist him in the interest of expediency.

By the time they made it back to her room, he still wouldn’t look at her. She sat down on the edge of her bed, gesturing for Tyler to use her writing chair. She had little patience for his

sulking, or whatever this was.

            Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Thing lurking under her pillow. “I see my parents still have you spying on my every move,” she said.

            Thing crawled out reluctantly, forming signs with his fingers.

            “Of course I saw you. A toddler could have picked a better hiding spot.”

            He made several more rapid signs.

            “Stop with the dramatics and fetch my journal and something to write with. You might as well make yourself useful.”

Thing scuttled away with an injured air, but he eventually returned with a black leather-bound journal and a pen. She crossed her legs as she faced Tyler. “Tell me everything you remember.”

He swallowed before speaking. “He wanted to kill...that’s all he thinks about. He knew that he couldn’t have you, but your brother...” He paused, scrubbing at his face tiredly. “He wanted to tear him apart.”

“What else?” she prompted.

“I remember taking your hand—as soon as we touched, it was like the urge to kill was just...silenced.”

“I see.” Her pen flew across the page as she jotted down his words. Nathaniel Faulkner had neglected to record the details on how to tame a Hyde, but she meant to rectify his oversight. If everything went according to plan, she would become world-renowned for her discovery.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said abruptly.

She halted her writing to glance at him. “Why?”

“For touching you. You must have hated it.”

“It was a necessary evil.”

His lips quirked into a wry smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

She snapped her notebook shut, then stood. She reached for her daggers, intending to return them to their case, but as soon her fingers closed around the first hilt, her head was thrown back violently. She was barely aware of Tyler lunging forward to break her fall before the vision crowded out everything else.

She was in the forest—dead leaves under her feet and a gray, overcast sky overhead. The air was charged with enraged roars that seemed to shake the ground. The Hyde stood a short distance away, his massive form looming over Pugsley. The creature’s back was riddled with obsidian daggers, but the pain had only heightened his desire to kill. She retrieved her last dagger, and—

There was fiery agony...and blood. So much blood. She gritted her teeth as she yanked out the dagger and tossed it aside. Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the ground. Tyler bent over her, and even with her blurring vision she could see the horror etched on his face. Pugsley was there too. Tears streaked down her brother’s cheeks, but he was whole and unharmed. They were both calling her name, but they sounded oddly far away, like she was submerged underwater. Then they, along with everything else, gave way to the heavy blackness that pressed all around her.

She inhaled sharply as she came back to reality.

“Wednesday!” Tyler cried. “Thank goodness.”

She realized that his arms were still around her, and she pushed him away as she sat up.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.”

He looked at her anxiously. “What did you see? Please tell me that I’m not going to hurt someone again.”
            “You didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Then what was it?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“But—”

“Tyler,” she said firmly. “Even if you waterboarded me I wouldn’t tell you, so you might as well stop asking. We’ll resume our practice first thing tomorrow, so get some rest.”

He still looked discontent, but he said nothing more as he laid down on his cot.

Wednesday climbed into bed, reviewing the vision in her mind. Her visions had shown her many things, but she had never foreseen her own death before. How very intriguing.

Chapter Text

They were dining at the breakfast table a few mornings later when her mother cleared her throat delicately.

            “Darling? Would you do me a favor?”

            Wednesday raised her eyes from her plate. This was already sounding ominous.

“Would you go down to the village for me and buy some olives? I need them for supper, and I’m afraid that I forgot to pick some up the other day.”

            “I am in the process of psychologically reconditioning a Hyde, mother. I must confess that olives are not my top priority at the moment.”

            Her mother gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Oh, you children have been doing nothing but your little practices lately. One day won’t hurt. Besides, Tyler needs a break. The poor boy looks like he’s about ready to drop with exhaustion.”

            Wednesday turned her gaze to Tyler, who shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. It hadn’t escaped her notice that his complexion was paler than normal. She wanted to finish their training as efficiently as possible, but perhaps a rest was warranted. Test subjects had to be treated with some level of care or they lost their value, after all.

            “Fine,” she said at last.

            “Thank you, my little rain cloud. Tyler should accompany you as well. This is supposed to be a vacation, but he’s seen nothing besides the inside of these castle walls and that dreary forest. Why don’t you show him around the village?” She turned to Tyler with one of her grotesque smiles. “What do you say, dear?”

            “Only if it’s ok with Wednesday,” he replied uncertainly.

            Wednesday sent him a sharp look and he colored, clearly remembering her previous warning about treating her like his master.

“You can do what you want,” she said coolly.

“Then I guess I’ll come,” he shrugged.

“Wonderful,” her mother clapped her hands excitedly. “Lurch can drive you, but he’ll stay in the hearse while you’re in the village. He’s not the best around people, you know.”

Wednesday pushed back her chair and stood. “Let’s go,” she said. “I prefer to get my torture over with first thing in the morning.”

They donned coats and shoes and were about to step out the door when her mother hurried up to them. “I almost forgot.” She held out a sizeable sum of money, folded neatly and tied with a black string. “There should be enough here, plus a little left over for you and Tyler to get yourselves some coffee and pastries afterward.” She winked slyly.

Wednesday slid the cash into her pocket without a word, then turned on her heel and strode out the door.

“You children, have fun, alright?” she called after them.

Wednesday ground her teeth. She had been manipulated, and they both knew it. It was times like this when she wondered if she and her mother were more alike than she thought. The mere thought made her want to strip her nails off.

            Lurch brought them to an outdoor market where vendors had set up carts selling fresh produce, as well as specialty treats like pastries and roasted nuts. It was exactly the kind of place she despised the most—loud, crowded, and surging with life.

            Tyler, on the other hand, was enthralled. His head seemed to be on a swivel as he tried to

take in everyone and everything they passed. She was satisfied to see that some of the brightness had returned to his eyes. Because he’s a valuable test subject, she told herself firmly. No other reason.

            “You seem fond of this place,” she said. “Although I can’t fathom why.”

            “Yeah,” he said, “it’s just so...different. I’ve hardly ever been outside of Jericho, so I don’t know, it’s just nice to see something else.”

            She nodded. She could understand that. If she had spent her entire life in a town like Jericho, she would be happy to get out too.

            “Enjoy it while it lasts. I have no intention of showing you the entire village. If I’m forced to stay here much longer, there will be casualties.”

            The crowd was thick but forcing their way through wasn’t overly tedious. People tended to step away instinctively when they saw her, and that unique talent came in good use at times like this.

            They arrived at the olive cart—run by a bull-necked man with ears that stuck out in a rather unfortunate fashion. His wide grin displayed a total of five yellowed teeth.

            “Welcome to Alin’s Olives!” he said with an appalling amount of cheerfulness. “I’ve got the finest olives in all of Transylvania. Cerignola, Picholine, Kalamata, Liguria, Thasos, Beldi,” he rattled off the names in rapid Romanian. “You name it, I’ve got it. So, what’ll it be, miss?”

            Tyler surveyed the wide variety, looking overwhelmed. “We forgot to ask your mom what kind she wants. Do you think green or black?”
            “In my family, there’s only one type of olive,” she answered contemptuously.

            Taking a bag, she started picking olives that were the deepest shade of black—inspecting each one before she dropping it in. They shone like dark jewels in the sun.

            She handed the bag to the man when she was finished. “We’ll have these,” she said in flawless Romanian.

            They had already taken their purchase and were walking away when Tyler spoke, his voice tinged with amazement. “You can speak Romanian?”

            “My family travels here every year, so it was a matter of convenience. I am also fluent in three other languages—mostly so I can read their literature in its original from.”

            “That’s incredible.”

            “It shouldn’t be. Most people are simply too lazy and narrow-minded to learn. Much like pigs, they prefer to live out their pathetic existences in the sty they were born in.”

            Tyler laughed. “Ouch, that hurts.”

            It was a real laugh, not hollow like the ones she had grown used to hearing. She would rather gouge out her eyes than admit it, but her mother’s plan was working.

            “Come on,” she said.

            They walked briskly, leaving the busy market behind and entering a historic district with shops and restaurants.

            Tyler matched her pace easily with his longer strides. “Uh, I’m not saying I doubt your sense of direction, but wasn’t the spot where Lurch was going to pick us up that way?” He pointed in the opposite direction from where they were headed.

            “There is something else we must do first.”

            “What?”

            “You’ll see,” she replied without looking at him.

            She eventually turned a corner and entered a quaint stone building with a shingled roof. The air inside smelled strongly of coffee and freshly baked bread.

            Tyler followed, looking confused. “A coffee shop? Does your mom need something here too?”

            She quelled the desire to strangle him. He really could be absurdly obtuse sometimes.

            “I want a quad,” she said flatly. “You can get something too if you wish.”

            “Uh, ok...thanks,” he said, still looking puzzled.

            She ordered for both of them, then they sat down at a small round table to wait. A white aproned server appeared a few moments later with their drinks. She was a rosy-cheeked girl with generous curves—the type that most would likely consider pretty. The girl smiled at Tyler, but then she saw Wednesday and nearly dropped their drinks. Wednesday watched, strangely satisfied, as the girl practically ran back into the kitchen. It seemed that her scare tactics were working especially well today.

            “Oh, crap,” Tyler said. “They didn’t give us to-go cups.”

            “I ordered the drinks for here. Do you have a problem with that?”

            He shook his head vigorously. “No, I just thought...I mean, you were the one who said you didn’t want to be here any longer than you had to.”

            “I can endure for a while longer.”

            Tyler nodded and they sipped their drinks in silence.

            “How is it?” he ventured.

            “Barely palatable. Even the ones at Weathervane were superior.” The ones you made for me, she thought.

            The bell on the door tinkled merrily, and Wednesday bit back a sigh. The two meaty teenage boys spotted her and immediately approached their table. It was just her luck that she would run into them today.

“Well, if it isn’t the freak,” one of the boys said. “You really do keep coming back like lice on a hobo.”

Although Tyler couldn’t understand his words, he stiffened at the belligerent tone. The boys seemed to notice him for the first time.

“And who’s this?” the other said in broken English. “Does the freak actually have a boyfriend? I’d say that I feel sorry for him, but he’s probably just as psycho as she is.”

Rage flashed in Tyler’s eyes—followed quickly by fear. He was beginning to lose control. Thinking quickly, she reached under the table and grabbed his hands. He squeezed back tightly, the tension gradually seeping out of his frame. He gave her a small nod, as if to say he was alright now. She kept her hold on his hands though—in case the idiotic duo said something else to trigger his anger.

            “Tyler, allow me the displeasure of introducing you to Vlad and Denis Cazacu,” she said dryly. “There’s no need to try and differentiate them, they share a single brain cell anyway.”

            The boys reddened with anger, looking ready for a brawl. Tyler tensed again, clearly prepared to defend her honor or some other equally foolish notion, but she settled him with a stern glance.

            “Now boys,” she said, “I know your combined intelligence is roughly equivalent to that of a rock, but we’ve gone over this countless times. You shouldn’t start a fight, unless you want me to remind you again how painfully outmatched you are.”

            Their faces screwed up with fury, giving them a decidedly constipated look. “This isn’t over, freak,” they said, stalking away sulkily.

This isn’t over? Was that the best they could come up with? Honestly, they were an embarrassment to bullies everywhere.

She returned her attention to Tyler. “What was that? You nearly lost control.”

            “I know, I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair, still looking slightly agitated. “I just don’t get how you can handle them talking to you like that.”

“I know monkeys smarter than they are,” she said flatly. “Why would I care what they say?”

            “I never thought of you like that, you know. As a freak, I mean. A bit kooky—sorry, spooky—sure, but never that. Laurel ordered me to get close to you, but I would’ve done it even if she hadn’t. You’re brilliant, and funny, and insanely brave, and you don’t care what anyone thinks about you. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” He looked away self-consciously. “I...just wanted you to know that.”

            She looked at him, face expressionless.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked quietly.

“I usually don’t approve of flattery, but your tone seems sincere enough, so thank you.”

            His face softened into a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

            She rose. “I’ve reached my limit with this torture device they insist on calling a village. If I’m here any longer, there really will be casualties—starting with Dumb and Dumber over there.”

            She glanced to where Vlad and Denis were sitting. Both boys were sending them their darkest glares, but she doubted whether they would be able to scare off a rabbit. Some people just weren’t cut out to be villains.

            “I’m not even sure I’d try to stop you,” Tyler grinned.

            It had been a productive outing, but they would resume their training tomorrow. The fulfillment of her vision drew nearer with each passing day, but she had already learned that there was no way to prevent what she had seen. Their training was proving to be effective, and she had no intention of stopping it. She had no choice but to continue forward and let the pieces fall where they may.

Chapter Text

Wednesday held the Hyde’s gaze steadily. The creature looked back at her, whining quietly.

“Good boy,” she said. “Pugsley, come.”

Her brother took a tentative step forward. The Hyde’s eyes flicked to him, but she tugged on his hands lightly, directing his attention back to her.

            “Focus,” she commanded.

            Pugsley took another step, approaching until he was an arm’s length away.  

“Good,” she told the Hyde. “I’m going to let go now, and I want you to stay right here.”

She slowly disentangled her hands. The Hyde’s whimpers grew louder, but he remained rooted in place. They had been working on lengthening the amount of time he could maintain control on his own. He would be fine for the next five minutes or so, then once he started showing signs of increased agitation, she would reinitiate contact and they would start the whole process again.

She let herself relax slightly, settling in for the usual wait. It was at that moment that everything went wrong.

The Hyde jolted suddenly—as if he had been given an electric shock. His eyes took on a feral glow and he gave a screeching roar that made her ears ring.

Wednesday lunged for his hands, but he swatted her away viciously. She flew into a tree and crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

“Sis!” Pugsley screamed.

            The Hyde turned on her brother, roaring again. There was no quenching the bloodthirst in his eyes. Even if she could get close enough to touch him, it wouldn’t bring him back. Not this time.

            “Pugsley, run,” she said breathlessly.

            Her brother started running as fast as his pudgy legs would carry him, but she knew that he wouldn’t make it far. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two daggers. She aimed one at each of the Hyde’s thighs, intending to slow the creature down, but he scarcely even staggered before resuming his pursuit.

            She continued throwing daggers at him, even though a part of her knew it was futile. She had already seen how this would end. Daggers wouldn’t stop the Hyde. Nothing would, except—

            Pugsley let out a sharp cry as he tripped over a root and went sprawling to the ground. He scooted backward desperately until his back hit a tree. He stared up at the Hyde, face ashen, as the creature loomed over him.

            Wednesday eyed the final dagger in her hand. She knew what she had to do. With a last glance at the Hyde, she turned the blade on herself and drove it deep into her side.

            The pain was even more intense than it had been in her vision. She clenched her teeth to prevent from screaming. It was as if the entire right side of her body had been set on fire. She tried to steel herself before pulling the dagger out, but the fiery agony made her stagger as black spots danced across her vision. She tossed the blade aside, her hands sticky with blood.

            Feeling light-headed, she was suddenly staring at a gray sky heavily encumbered with clouds. The sky from her vision, she thought wryly. She should have noticed it earlier.

            “Wednesday!”

Tyler appeared above her, blocking her view of the sky. His expression was stricken with terror. Under other circumstances, she would have been proud to be the cause of such intense fear.

“Sis!” Tears made pale tracks down Pugsley’s cheeks, but her pathetic younger brother was still in one piece. That was what mattered.

Tyler’s hands shook as they hovered over her helplessly. “No...this can’t be happening.”

She tried to tell him that he was being unnecessarily dramatic, but the words wouldn’t

come. Slowly, their faces grew hazy, and then everything slipped into blackness.

            When she opened her eyes again, she was staring at the familiar stone ceiling of her room. She turned slightly and found Tyler slouched in a chair beside her bed.

            His face flooded with relief when he saw her. “Hey. How do you feel?”

            “Like I’ve been stabbed,” she said flatly.

            “You lost a lot of blood, but your mom stitched you up. She said that you’d be alright after a few days’ rest.”

            “I see.” She struggled to sit up, her floundering movements making her feel like a beached whale. She raised her chin slightly in an effort to regain her lost dignity. “Get my journal and pen, please.”

            “You should really be resting—”

            She sent him a withering glare. She would not put up with being treated like an invalid. “If you don’t get them, I will.”

            He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, do you know that?”

“I prefer obsessive for its greater negative connotations,” she said dryly.

Still shaking his head, he dragged himself to his feet and walked rather drunkenly to her desk. When he handed over the requested items, she noticed that his eyes were ringed with exhaustion.

            “How did I get back to the castle?” she asked.

            He glanced away uncomfortably. “I carried you. I knew you wouldn’t like it, but it was the fastest way I could think of.”

            No wonder he looked like a wrung-out rag. He could usually barely walk unsupported after transforming, yet he had somehow managed to carry her corpse-like form half a mile through rugged terrain.

It was clear that he needed rest, but first she needed answers. She flipped open her notebook, holding her pen poised to write. “Tell me what happened.”

            He took a shuddering breath. “It was Laurel. I don’t know how it happened. I’ve barely been able to feel her since I got here, but back there I could feel her so strongly—it was like she was right next to me. She was furious about something. Her anger flowed through the bond to me and...”

He shook his head miserably. “I don’t think the Hyde has ever wanted to kill so badly before. He was hell-bent on destroying everything in his path...until he saw you stab yourself. That stopped him in his tracks, and I was able to regain control after that.”

She wrote down his words in her signature scrawling hand. So it appeared that if Laurel

experienced extreme emotions, she could still affect the Hyde, even at this distance. That was certainly...inconvenient.

            “Why’d you do it?” he asked quietly.

            She paused, looking up at him. “For some unfathomable reason, the Hyde doesn’t want me dead. My theory was that if he believed my life was in danger, his protective instincts would overpower everything else—including his bloodlust. It turned out I was right.”

            “But you didn’t even know if it would work. Why would you—?” He cut off sharply. “Wait, this is what you saw in your vision, isn’t it?”

            She gave a short nod, and he ran a hand through his hair.

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “It wouldn’t have changed anything even if I did.”

            “But you could’ve died!”

            “My life was never in danger,” she said, feeling slightly irritated. “I’ve studied every aspect of human anatomy since I was a child—did you really think I wouldn’t know how to insert a knife without hitting any organs?”

            “That’s not the point,” he said impatiently. “Wednesday, you stabbed yourself because of me. I almost ate your brother alive. Don’t you see how messed up that is?”

            “Have you met my family?” she replied without inflection. “Messed up doesn’t even begin to describe us.”

            He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I’m tired of everyone around me getting hurt or killed.” He looked at her bleakly. “I really thought that I had lost you today.”

“Yet here I am, still haunting your every waking moment.”

            He didn’t smile—only rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. “I don’t want to ever go through that again. I can’t lose you, Wednesday.” His voice was tinged was desperation. “I just...can’t.”

            His irrational declaration should have filled her with annoyance, but instead she felt a strange sense of...satisfaction? Disturbed, she forced her mind back to the matter at hand.

            “I have no intention of going anywhere until our work is finished.” She wasn’t trying to comfort him—she was merely stating the truth. “This situation does pose a problem, however. We don’t know if or when Laurel’s emotions may affect you again. Pugsley is too weak to defend himself, and unfortunately, stabbing myself likely won’t work now that the Hyde knows the trick.”

            “Even if it did, I’m not letting you stab yourself again,” Tyler said fiercely.

Not even deigning to reply to such a foolish statement, she reached for her cellular phone instead.

“Since when do you have a phone?” he asked.

“Xavier gave it to me at the end of term.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she typed painstakingly. Why on earth were the

buttons so small? She would never understand why people preferred these infernal devices to typewriters.

Tyler stiffened. “Are you two, I mean, you know—?”

“If what you’re so eloquently trying to ask is if we’re involved in the foolish social ritual

referred to as dating, then no. Xavier and I are acquaintances, nothing more.”

He relaxed again. “So, what are you doing?”

She hit the ‘send’ button and looked up. “I’ve just contacted our new bait.”

Chapter Text

“Hiya, bestie!” Enid waved cheerfully as she popped out of the hearse. As usual, it looked like a rainbow had vomited all over her garments.

            “Hello, Enid.” Wednesday stepped back warily as her roommate extended her arms towards her. “What are you doing?”

            Confusion crossed Enid’s face. “I thought hugging was something we did now—you know, after what happened that night.”

            Wednesday could feel the eyes of her family burning a hole through to her spine. She should have known this would happen—she doubted if Enid even knew the meaning of the word confidential. Half the population of Transylvania probably knew by now that Wednesday Addams had embraced someone of her own accord. If only she had had the foresight to blackmail her into silence before she left.

            Well, it was too late now. Damage control was the only option left to her.

            “You’re mistaken,” she said, imbuing icy coolness into her voice. “What happened that night was due to extenuating circumstances and will not be discussed again. Is that understood?”

            “I get that you’re embarrassed,” Enid said, “but you really shouldn’t be. You’re actually a really great hugger.”

            Wednesday sent her a death glare, but her roommate had grown unfortunately immune to those as of late. So much for damage control.

            “Well, we’re happy to have you with us, Enid dear,” her mother said. “Please make yourself at home during your stay.”

            “I hope your family was alright with us spiriting you away for a while,” her father added.

            “Believe me, Mr. and Mrs. Addams, I’m not missing anything. They’re on our annual family camping trip, and let me tell you, sharing a tent with five brothers is totes disgusting.” She gave an exaggerated shudder.

            “Well, please, come in,” her mother smiled. “Wednesday will give you a tour of the castle.”

            Wednesday opened her mouth to protest, but her mother raised a silencing finger. “Enid is your guest, darling. Be a hospitable host and show her around, please.”

            Seeing that resisting was futile, she begrudgingly resigned herself to her fate. She had built this coffin for herself. Now she had no choice but to lie in it.

“I can’t believe I’m staying in an actual castle.” Enid’s peppy voice grated in her ears as they passed through the main entrance. “I mean it’d be even better if the vibe was more Cinderella and less Dracula, but still, it’s a flipping castle.”

            They finished touring the first floor and were headed for a flight of winding stairs when Enid stopped suddenly. Wednesday glanced at her impatiently. “What?”

            “You’re bleeding.”

            She ground her teeth in annoyance. Her knife wound must have opened again. Curse Enid’s heightened werewolf senses.

“It’s from the arrow,” she lied. “It’s almost healed, but it still bleeds every now and then. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You really have to take better care of yourself,” Enid said. “I hope you haven’t been pushing yourself too hard while you’ve been here.”

Wednesday wondered briefly how Enid defined ‘pushing oneself too hard,’ but she said nothing.

They turned down a long hallway and Enid paused to examine a portrait of a man with dark shoulder-length hair and strong features. “Who’s that?” she asked. “He’s kind of cute.”

            “Enid, I know you rarely think of anything other than the opposite sex, but an infatuation with a portrait of a man who’s been dead for five hundred years is a bit much even for you.”

            “No need to be so judgy,” Enid said defensively. “I’m not infatuated with him. I was just making an observation.”

            Wednesday stared at her, unconvinced. “To answer your question, his name is Heinrich the Horrible. He went mad and killed his wife and nine children before committing suicide. Some say that his grief-crazed ghost still haunts these halls.” Her lips twisted slightly. “On second thought, maybe your taste in men isn’t hopeless, after all.”

            Enid blanched. “I-I think I’ll stick with Ajax. Where’d you say my room is again?”

            “The end of the hall on the right.”

            Enid pushed opened the door tentatively and stepped inside. She surveyed the room with its fireplace and four-poster bed, relaxing visibly. “It’s surprisingly...normal.”

            “Of course it is,” Wednesday replied matter-of-factly. “The wallpaper and carpets were all replaced after the incident.”

            Enid froze. “What incident?” she asked in a small voice.

            “Oh, nothing too serious. “Two lovers got in a quarrel. It got violent and the male accidentally impaled his beloved on one of the bed posts. I imagine it must have been quite a sight.”

            Enid looked slightly green as she eyed the large mahogany bed. “Do you by chance have any rooms where someone didn’t...you know, die?”

            Wednesday pretended to think. “No, but I could move you to Heinrich’s room if you want. It has a balcony.”

            Enid shook her head frantically. “This is fine.”

            Wednesday smiled to herself. She had been forced to give this tour, so she might as well have some fun with it.

            “So, where’s your room?” Enid asked.

            “This way.”

            They descended to the dungeon and Enid looked around, nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. “It’s very...you,” she said at last.

            “Thank you.”

            “It’s nice that you have a place for Thing to sleep,” she said, pointing to Tyler’s neatly folded cot in the corner of the room. “An entire cot seems a bit overkill though.”

            Tyler entered at that moment, distractedly rubbing his damp hair with a towel. He had just gotten out of the shower.

            Enid’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

            Wednesday took a seat on the edge of her bed, preparing herself for some quality entertainment. The only thing she was missing was popcorn.

            Tyler looked at Wednesday uncertainly. “You didn’t tell her?”

            “Clearly not,” she replied dryly.

            “But I thought you were going to explain things so she wouldn’t freak out when she saw me.”

            “You were the one who came up with that plan. I never consented to it.”

            “Um, excuse me,” Enid said shrilly. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

            Wednesday shifted her gaze to Enid. “I forgot to tell you. Tyler’s vacationing with us as well. There,” she said, turning back to Tyler pointedly. “Satisfied?”

            “Wait a second.” Enid’s expression darkened and she looked at Tyler accusingly. “You’re the one who hurt her, aren’t you? She’s bleeding. I can smell it.”

Tyler shook his head. “It’s complicated. Enid, listen, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what happened that night. I—”

He cut off as Enid’s nails extended into claws. “If you take one step closer, I’ll scratch your eyes out.”

            “Enid, that’s enough.”

           Enid spun, looking agitated. “Look, Wednesday, I know you’re not exactly normal, but even you have to see that inviting your would-be murderer on a family vacation is insane.”

“He’s not going to hurt either of us. He’s here because I’m teaching him to control the Hyde.”

            “Teaching him to control it? What are you talking about?”

            Wednesday suppressed a sigh. She was beginning to think that stabbing herself again would be less troublesome than dealing with this. “Listen closely, because I’m only going to explain once. And no questions until the end. I don’t enjoy being interrupted.”

            Enid was pacing the room by the time she finished. She appeared to be attempting to wear a path in the stone floor. “So you want me to help him, because—what? I’m a monster too?”

“A gross oversimplification, but I believe you’ve covered the crucial points—yes.”

“This is unbelievable. Even after all this, you’re still trying to use me. We’re supposed to be friends, Wednesday. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept for you, so let me give you a helpful hint. Friends don’t have their friends come halfway across the world to be monster bait for them.”

            “So I take it that’s a refusal then?”

            Enid snorted. “Yes, it’s a refusal. I want no part in helping you recreate Godzilla vs. King Kong. I don’t even like monster films.”

            She started to storm out of the room, but Tyler grabbed her arm. “Enid, please wait.”

She whirled on him furiously, fangs bared. “I told you to stay away from me!”

            “I know,” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “Just please hear me out. I know that you hate me, and I get it—I really do. You don’t owe me anything, but I’m not asking for myself. Wednesday’s already stabbed herself once because I wasn’t strong enough. I know that I don’t need to tell you how stubborn she is. She’ll do it again in a heartbeat if she thinks she needs to. Next time she could die. So, I’m asking, not for myself, but for Wednesday. Please help her.”

            Enid hesitated. She looked at Tyler then at Wednesday, the fight gradually leaving her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it—but I have one condition.”

Chapter Text

“I’m still waiting, Wednesday.”

            Wednesday’s face was a mask, but inside she was writhing. She had made a fatal mistake in underestimating Enid. She hadn’t thought that her rainbows-and-sunshine roommate would be capable of true blackmail. Oh, how she had erred.

            She forced herself forward, legs feeling like lead. This was torture of the most extreme form. She could almost admire Enid for it. Almost.

            “That’s it,” Enid said encouragingly. “Just a little further.”

            “Your attempt at cheerleading is neither helpful nor productive,” Wednesday said in a flat voice.

            Enid rolled her eyes. “Then stop being such a baby and come on.”

            Wednesday slowly lifted her arms and, inch-by-inch, wrapped them around Enid. Her movements were stiff and jerky, like a puppet being controlled by an incompetent puppeteer. “I despise you,” she muttered.

            Enid gave her a horrifically brilliant smile. “I love you too, bestie.” She flung her own arms around Wednesday, returning the embrace with a repulsive amount of vigor. It was almost as if she enjoyed it.

            Wednesday was gasping for breath by the time Enid finally released her. Not because the other girl’s grip had been overly tight, but because her airways began to close whenever she was exposed to prolonged physical contact. She supposed it was due to an allergic reaction of some sort.

            “That’s two,” Wednesday told her once she could breathe again. “Your quota for the day is nearly full.”

            “I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me.”

            Three hugs per day. That was the condition. Enid had originally requested unlimited hugs, but Wednesday had put her foot down, narrowly saving herself from a humiliating fate. She would have never been able to escape the shame of having ‘too many hugs’ written on her tombstone as the cause of her demise.

            “Can we begin now?” Wednesday asked.

            “I guess,” Enid shrugged unenthusiastically. “What do I do?”

            “Just stay there for now.”

            Wednesday turned to Tyler, who was trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. As if the embrace itself wasn’t torturous enough, she was forced to have a peanut gallery as well. Their first hug earlier that morning had been in front of her entire family. The mere memory of it made her want to gouge her eyes out.

            “What are you waiting for?” she said. “Go get undressed.”

            “Uh yeah, sorry.” He hurried away, disappearing behind a thick-trunked oak tree.

            “You guys ready?” he called a few moments later.

            “Wait a second,” Enid said. Her voice sounded even higher than usual. “Shouldn’t I wolf out or something?”

            “No,” Wednesday told her. “If you’re in your werewolf form, it will give the Hyde the impression that you’re looking for a fight. Use it only as a last resort.”

            “So, you really just want me to stay here like a sitting duck?”

            “That’s the idea. You’re bait, remember?” Any iota of guilt she may have felt had been eradicated after those two hugs.

            Wednesday confirmed that they were ready, and the familiar sounds of Tyler’s transformation echoed through the forest. Enid looked like she might faint as the Hyde appeared from behind the trees. She had seen him once before, but that had been under the shroud of darkness. Here in the midday light, she could finally see the creature in all its hideous glory.

            Wednesday moved to intercept the Hyde.

            “What are you doing?” Enid asked anxiously.

            “I’m fine, Enid. Remember what I told you.”

She reached for the Hyde’s hands and took them firmly in her own. Enid watched the display with horrified fascination. “That’s just...ew.”

Enid jumped as the Hyde’s whining suddenly increased in volume. “What’s happening? Is he going to attack?”

“Calm down,” she told her sternly. The last thing she needed was for Enid to get involved and rile the Hyde further. “He accidentally nicked me with one of his claws, that’s all.” It had happened a few times before, and the creature always had the same reaction.

The Hyde’s whimpers quieted, and the training session went smoothly after that. Perhaps Laurel was napping, she mused.

Eventually, the reverse transformation was triggered—they had found that the Hyde form could only be maintained for about an hour—and Tyler was left curled up on the ground.

Enid made a small ‘eep’ and spun around. “Wednesday, you could’ve warned me,” she whined.

            “I didn’t think it was necessary. Anyone with eyes could see that the Hyde wasn’t wearing jeans and a flannel.”

            Tyler finished dressing, looking at her wearily. “Your hand...is it ok?”

“It’s barely a scratch,” she informed him. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

They started the hike back, with Tyler dragging behind as usual. After he had stumbled and nearly fallen twice, Wednesday impatiently ordered Enid to assist him.

            “I’ll pass, thanks,” Enid said tartly. “I’m bait, remember? Not a pack horse. If you’re in such a hurry to get back, why don’t you help him yourself?”
            Wednesday sent her a dark look, but finally looped an arm around Tyler’s waist. She hated wasting time. In the interest of expediency, she could put up with this if need be.

            “Put your arm around my shoulders,” she told him.

            “Wednesday, I’m really ok. You don’t need to—”

            “Stop speaking and walk.”

            They continued forward, making better progress than before. Enid studied her with a thoughtful expression, but Wednesday ignored it.

            Later that night she was in bed with Enid on the cot below. The other girl had gone into hysterics when she found out the actual owner of Thing’s oversized cot. In the end, Wednesday had ceded the point for the sake of her own sanity and Tyler had moved to the cell next door.

            She was paying dearly for that decision now. For the past half hour, Enid had alternated between staring at her cellular phone, furiously typing into it, and looking like she was going to throw the device across the room.

            Wednesday knew what she wanted. She would usually abstain from giving it to her on principle, but her patience was wearing thin.

            “What is it, Enid?” she said at last.

            Enid sat up with an exaggerated huff. She hadn’t even begun speaking and Wednesday was already regretting that she had asked.

“It’s Ajax,” she said. “We were texting, and he made a stupid comment that I talk a lot. Isn’t that like awful?”

“I don’t see a problem with stating a fact.”

            “Ugh, why am I even talking about this with you?” Enid said. “Anyway—”

            And yet you continue to talk, Wednesday thought dryly.

“I asked him if he was calling me annoying, and he said I was being”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“too dramatic. How ridiculous is that?”

“Again, I fail to see a problem.”

Enid continued as if she hadn’t heard. “So, we started fighting and now he’s not texting me anymore. What should I do, Wednesday? I know I talk a lot sometimes, but it’s not like I can help it. The words just come out and I can’t stop them, especially when I’m nervous.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t think he’s going to break up with me, do you?”

“Enid, I’ll be frank with you. You do have an unfortunate habit of talking incessantly, but no one is perfect. You are also honest, loyal, and so kind that it disgusts me sometimes. If Ajax fails to appreciate you for the partner you are, I will personally ensure that he suffers for it.”

Enid offered her a watery smile. “Thanks, Wednesday. I think that’s the closest you’ve ever come to saying something nice about me.” She sat up straighter, pulling her pillow to her chest. “So, let’s talk about you and Tyler—I need a distraction anyway. What’s going on with you two? Go on, spill.”

Wednesday regarded her, face expressionless. “In order to form a response, I’m going to need more specific instructions, Enid.”

“I mean doesn’t this whole Jekyll and Hyde thing basically mean that you’re like soulmates?”

“Hardly,” she said flatly. “I am merely using his sentiments in an advantageous manner.”

“Really?” Enid frowned. “I kind of thought that you liked him—since you’re ok with touching him and everything.”

“I am still working out the reason for my lack of physical aversion. My current theory is that it is somehow linked to our Jekyll and Hyde connection. I will have to conduct more research before I can come to a conclusion.”

Enid threw her hands up in exasperation. “Gosh, Wednesday, have you ever even considered that it could be because you have feelings for him?”

“I’ve already told you that is not the case,” she replied, growing slightly irritated. “Why are you being so persistent? I thought you hated him.”

“I did, but after watching him today, anyone could see that he’s totes in love with you. And I mean, having a thing for a serial killer monster is kind of on-brand for you, to be honest.”

“You’re mistaken. I assure you that Tyler is nothing to me.”

            Enid clutched her pillow to her chest, lips forming a petulant pout. “Ok, I guess I was

wrong. Sorry for even thinking that the stone-hearted Wednesday Addams might actually like

someone.”

She settled back onto her cot with a wide yawn. “Well, jet lag sucks, so I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, Wednesday.”

“Understood. If you fail to wake, I give you my word that I will throw you a funeral to remember.”

Enid groaned. “Ugh, seriously? Now I’m never going to be able to fall asleep.”

But despite her griping, it wasn’t long before her roommate’s breathing evened out into the deep, steady cadence of slumber.

Sleep eluded Wednesday, however. Something Enid said had struck a chord. Not the part where she was stone-hearted or where it was on-brand for her to be attracted to serial killing monsters. Those statements were fairly accurate, all things considered.

No, it was Enid’s accusation that she had failed to consider every possibility regarding her connection with Tyler. Wednesday prided herself on being unbiased and clear-sighted, willing to examine every lead no matter where it took her. That was a large part of what made her such a formidable investigator.

Was she was overlooking something? If so, what...?

Her musings were interrupted by a loud gasp. Enid sat bolt upright in the dark. “Oh my gosh!”

“What?” Wednesday asked.

“I just realized I forgot about our third hug!”

Wednesday cursed herself inwardly. She should have pretended to be asleep, but it was too late now. It probably wouldn’t have stopped Enid anyway. Her roommate was as dogged as the Grim Reaper, except instead of collecting souls, she collected hugs. In other words, she was like the Grim Reaper—only infinitely more terrifying.

“Come on, Wednesday,” Enid said impatiently. “You might as well get it over with.”

Wednesday stood reluctantly, throat already tightening with dread. Limit or no limit, death by hugs was becoming a frighteningly real possibility.

Chapter Text

By the third day of Enid’s visit, Tyler was growing haggard again and Wednesday decided that another reprieve from training was warranted. When she announced her intention during breakfast, her mother looked delighted.

            “That’s a splendid idea, darling. If you children are looking for something to do for the day, Pugsley’s been wanting to go ice fishing, and I’m sure he’d adore the company.” She turned to Tyler and Enid. “Have you dears ever been fishing before?”

            Tyler replied that he had gone a few times with his dad when he was younger, but Enid shook her head.

“I’m not really sure if it’s up my alley, Mrs. Addams,” she said. “I’m not so stellar at the whole patience thing.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that, dear,” her mother smiled reassuringly. “Our family has a technique that makes the whole process quite efficient. You won’t need patience to enjoy yourself, you’ll see.”

“I guess I’ll give it a try,” Enid shrugged. “Anything’s better than spending another day as monster bait.” She looked at Wednesday. “You’re coming too, right?”

“I’d rather dig up graves,” she replied flatly, “but I suppose there are less pleasant ways to spend a morning.” She rose from her chair. “Pugsley, fetch the grenades. We’re leaving by the end of the hour.”

            Enid and Tyler watched him scurry away, bewilderment painted on their faces.

“Wait, what—?” Enid began.

            “No questions,” Wednesday cut in firmly. “You’ll understand when we get there. Also, Enid, I’d recommend bringing headphones.”

The noise of the grenades was tolerable for humans, but it would be less so to a werewolf’s sensitive hearing. Enid wasn’t a connoisseur of pain like she was, so headphones would be necessary.

            Once the four of them were packed and bundled up in winter clothes, they trekked to the pond at the back of the property. In the summer it made for a passable swimming hole, but at this time of year it was completely encased in ice.

            Pugsley rolled out the tarp they had brought to sit on, while Tyler set the grenades down with an amusing amount of care.

            “Look, I know I’m not an expert at this,” Enid said skeptically, “but don’t we need like rods and bait and stuff?”

            Wednesday settled down on the tarp. “Just put your headphones on and watch.”

            She nodded to Pugsley, who removed the pin from one of the grenades and hurled it into the middle of pond. It exploded as soon it hit the ice, creating a sizeable crater. Several dead fish floated to the surface.

            She turned to Enid and Tyler, who were gaping in astonishment. “Care to try?”

            “Don’t you need a license or something to use one of those?” Tyler asked.

            “It wouldn’t be an amusing pastime if it wasn’t illegal,” she said matter-of-factly.

            Tyler shrugged as he took the grenade and flung it at the ice. Three more fish emerged, and he gave a low whistle. “Your mom wasn’t lying when she said this was efficient.”

            “Uh, Wednesday?” Enid asked as she tentatively took a grenade from Pugsley. “I’m not so sure about this.”

             “Don’t whine, Enid. It isn’t becoming. Just remove the pin and throw. As long as you don’t drop it, all of your limbs should remain intact.”

            Enid gulped nervously. She pulled out the pin with trembling fingers, then squeezed her eyes shut and threw. She shrieked when it went off, as if surprised that the grenade had served its sole purpose and actually exploded.

            “So?” Wednesday queried.

            A wide grin spread over Enid’s face. “That was awesome! Quick, give me another one.”

            For the better part of the next hour, the forest resounded with grenade explosions. They had long since annihilated the entire population of fish, but Enid and Tyler didn’t seem to notice.

            “Aw, that’s it?” Enid said as the last of the grenades went off. “I was just getting started.”

            “I have another bucketful back at the castle,” Pugsley said, “but it was too much to carry so I had to leave it. I can go get it if you want.”

            “I’ll come too,” Tyler said. “They’ll be too heavy for you to carry on your own.”

            Enid stood quickly. “No, I’ll go. The whole point of today was for you to rest.”

            Tyler eyed her uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Enid said. “You stay here with Wednesday. We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She caught Wednesday’s eye and winked slyly before turning to leave. Despite their

previous conversation, the other girl still seemed to be holding out hope that she would eventually fall for Tyler. The whole affair irked Wednesday to no end. First her mother and now Enid. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if the entire Nevermore student population showed up in Transylvania to play matchmaker between her and Tyler.

            A heavy silence ensued with Pugsley and Enid’s departure. She was perturbed to find that she was vaguely uncomfortable. It was an alien feeling.

            “Your training appears to be going well,” she said. Not to alleviate the silence, she told herself, but because this was a topic she had wanted to broach for a while. They had fewer opportunities to review their training sessions now that they no longer shared a room.

            “For now,” he said. “Until something ticks Laurel off again.”

             “That will improve with time. For now, you need to focus on gaining as much control as possible.”

            He nodded, but they both knew the truth. They assumed that practice was the answer, but their theory was still untested. If Laurel decided to throw a fit over prison food, they could easily find that all of their training had been futile. Wednesday occasionally found herself wondering if it was impossible for the Hyde to fully control the rage from the bond, even with the Jekyll’s aid. She stubbornly pushed the thought away. The diary had said it could be done, so there must be a way.

            “You’re relying less on physical contact than before,” she observed. Yesterday he had maintained control for nearly an hour without touching her. “Is there something that’s brought about this change?”

            He shrugged. “Maybe...I don’t know.”

            “Elaborate.”

            He shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

            “Well, I’d suggest that you find a way to overcome your pointless mental block. The information you provide will help others with the same affliction as yourself. You’ll be able to make a difference in their lives. Isn’t that what most of you consider to be the epitome of a meaningful existence?”

Of course, she herself couldn’t care less about such things. She was doing this solely for the renown, although becoming independently wealthy was an added perk.

            “I think of you,” Tyler said reluctantly. “That’s the easiest way to put it, but it’s not that simple. The Hyde isn’t capable of intelligent thought, so it’s more like...images of you.”

            “What images?”

            He hesitated. “It’s just one.”

            She waited expectantly for him to continue. “Which one?”

            “It’s from that night at the Weathervane.”

            She didn’t need to ask him to specify which evening he meant. Memories of that night flooded her mind, and she was unable to stop herself from asking caustically, “Was it before or after I had a vision of you murdering Kinbott?”

            He flinched and lowered his eyes. “It’s when we kissed,” he said quietly.

            “I see.” Deep down, she had already known what his answer would be.

            He met her gaze again, seeming to summon his courage. “I’ve been wanting to ask this for a while, but why didyou kiss me? You said I’m nothing to you, right?”
            It required some effort to keep her face smooth. “Call it morbid curiosity.”

            “Don’t do that.”

            She raised a quizzical brow.

“I was there too,” he said. “I could feel it when you kissed me—that wasn’t the type of kiss you’d give out of morbid curiosity. You...well, you were into it, until everything got screwed up.”

She stared at him in disbelief. She had been...into it? Words of denial sprang to her lips, but looking at Tyler’s face, she knew that he wouldn’t be convinced. She could think of only one way to end this.

“Fine,” she said. “If you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. That kiss was a moment of weakness. There was a time when I thought that I might be fond of you, but that’s over now.”

            “Because you realized what I really am?”

            “No. Because I remembered who I am.”

            He frowned, looking confused.

“I blame my momentary lapse of judgment on being thrust into a boarding school with teenagers who have as much inhibition as a pack of hyenas. I suppose you could say I was infected,” she said dryly. “In any case, I should be expressing my gratitude. Because of what happened that night, I remembered what I had almost lost sight of.”

            She drew a deep breath, knowing that it was time to strike the finishing blow. “I’ve said it to you before. I am not girlfriend material. I don’t do affection or love or anything like that. It’s not who I am. You know all of this very well, so if you are still hoping that I’ll return your feelings, you are a fool.”

            The hurt in Tyler’s eyes—like the look of a kicked puppy—would have been enough to twist the heart of a serial killer. “I understand,” he said dully. “Thanks for clearing that up.” He stepped away from her. “I...I need a minute. Tell Enid and Pugsley I’m sorry.”

            He stumbled off into the woods, still looking slightly dazed. Wednesday was puzzled to find that part of her was tempted to go after him. What was wrong with her? Intentional or not, Tyler had made her feel like a fool that night at the Weathervane. What she had just done was fair turnabout. She should have felt a sense of triumph, so why did she feel nothing but emptiness?

Chapter Text

Wednesday spun around sharply at the sound of crunching leaves. For a moment she thought that Tyler had returned, but it was only Enid and Pugsley.

“Sorry we took so long,” Enid panted. “We ran into two boys—who were totes rude, by the way—and...” She trailed off, eyes scanning the pond. “Where’s Tyler?”

            “He decided to take a walk. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf.”

            “A walk?” Enid frowned. “But why?”

            “That’s a question for him,” she replied stiffly. “I’m going back. I’ve had enough for today.”

            “What?” Enid said. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

            “I said that I’m going back, Enid. You are free to remain as long as you wish, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to dictate my actions.”

            Enid wilted visibly. Perhaps she had been overly harsh, but she felt strangely restless. She needed to return so that she could clear her head.

            Once she was alone in her room, she sat down at her typewriter. Writing always helped resettle her thoughts, and it had been a while since she had spent dedicated time on her Viper De La Muerte novel.

            But the minutes ticked slowly by and she found that she hadn’t typed a single word. Her mind kept wandering to her conversation with Tyler, and the more firmly she tried to shut down her thoughts, the more stubbornly they came.

            There was a soft knock at the door and her mother peered in. “Darling? Is everything alright? We saw you come home alone and were worried.”

            “I have a pulse, and my organs are all functioning as they should. I’m fine, mother.”

            She hoped her reply would send her away, but instead her mother opened the door wider and entered the room.

            “Well, since it seems that you have a moment, do you mind if we talk for a bit? I feel as though I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve arrived.”

            “As pleasant as that sounds, I’d rather skin myself.”

            Her mother merely smiled as she perched herself gracefully on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to speak with you about Tyler.”

            Wednesday tensed. Her mother couldn’t know what had transpired, could she? As incredible as it seemed, she wouldn’t put it past her.

            “How is his training going?” her mother asked.

            “We’re all still alive and unmaimed,” she said dryly. “I’d say it’s been relatively successful.”

            “That’s good to hear. He is such a sweet boy. He reminds me much of his mother.”

            Wednesday concealed her surprise. “You knew her well?”

            “Not well enough, I’m afraid,” her mother said, shaking her head sadly. “Fran was sweet, but very reserved. She was alone more often than not, and I’m ashamed to say that I did little to change that. We all knew of her condition, and most of us were content with her keeping her distance.

“After hearing of her fate, I couldn’t help wondering if things would have been different if more of us had tried to befriend her in our youth. I suppose I feel a sense of responsibility for Tyler because of it.”

Her face softened as she looked at Wednesday. “I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you sweetheart for trying to help that poor boy.”

“I have ulterior motives, I assure you.”

“Be that as it may, he clearly adores you, and unless I am very much mistaken, you bear a fondness for him as well.”

“You’re very much mistaken” she said flatly.

            To her annoyance, her mother’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Being in love isn’t the most terrible thing in the world, my little rain cloud. You don’t need to fight your feelings like they’re the enemy.”

            “Love makes people weak. I have neither the time nor the inclination to indulge in such nonsense.”

            She had spent her entire life watching her parents fawn over each other—had seen how Enid turned into a puddle at every one of Ajax’s words. She had long since decided that “love,” as they called it, was not her cup of tea.

            “You’re wrong, darling,” her mother said gently. “Love does make us do foolish things sometimes, but it certainly doesn’t make us weak. I’ll never forget how I felt when I found out that your father loved me. I had harbored feelings for him for quite some time, but I had never dared to hope that he might return them. My dear Gomez was so strong, so noble, so very handsome—”

            “Spare me the details, mother.”

            Her mother cleared her throat delicately. “Yes, well, when he told me he cared for me, I felt like I was on top of the world. In that moment, I was certain I could face hell itself and come out victorious. That’s where love’s real power comes from, darling. It’s not just loving someone—it’s knowing that they love you in return. That’s why—”

            But the rest of her mother’s words were lost as Wednesday’s head was thrown back and her surroundings were clouded by a sudden vision. Tyler was walking through the woods, hands stuffed in his pockets. His cheeks were bright red from the cold.

            “Well, well, if it isn’t the freak’s little boyfriend,” a voice said in Romanian.

            Tyler turned and found himself facing Vlad and Denis.

            “Did he get lost, I wonder?” Vlad asked tauntingly. “How lucky that we found him.”

            “Lucky indeed, brother,” Denis grinned.

            Tyler resumed walking, quickening his pace. Even with the language barrier, it was obvious that the two boys weren’t interested in making friends.

            Vlad grabbed his arm roughly. “Not so fast, sissy boy.”

            “Let go of me, man,” Tyler said with impressive calm. It likely helped that he couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying. “I don’t want any trouble, and now’s really not a good time.”

            His lack of reaction only irritated Vlad and Denis further, and they shoved him backward until he was pressed against a tree. Tyler was hardly weak, but the Romanian boys were both easily twice his girth.

            “Unfortunately for you, your creepy corpse bride is half-monster when it comes to fighting,” Vlad said, still speaking in Romanian. “That means the only way to make her pay is by beating you up a little. Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to walk afterward...probably.”’

            The irony was almost laughable. They called Wednesday a half-monster, but they had just stumbled into the authentic item without realizing it.

            “You guys can understand some English, right?” Tyler said. He was taking deep breaths,  

clearly doing everything he could to hedge his anger and stay in control. “Listen—you don’t

want to do this. Trust me. Just go and you won’t get hurt.”

            Vlad and Denis looked at each other, then burst into uproarious laughter.

            “Did you hear that, Vlad? I think the sissy’s not all there in the head.” He addressed Tyler in halting English. “You don’t worry about us. You’re the one who gets hurt. Don’t blame us. Blame your freak girlfriend.”

            Tyler’s expression grew dark—even by Addams standards. “Call her that again and I’ll rip you to pieces,” he said dangerously.

            He tried once more to step out of the circle they had created around him, but the boys barred his way.

            “Not so fast, sissy. We didn’t say we were finished with you, did we?”

            Denis struck first—a full punch to the gut that sent Tyler staggering back, sucking for air.

            “Listen to me,” he said in a strangled voice. “I’m telling you that you don’t want to do this.”

            Vlad went next, his fist making contact with Tyler’s jaw. Wednesday heard his head snap back painfully as the punch landed.

            Wednesday wanted to order him to fight, but she knew that it was useless. Even if Tyler could hear her, he wouldn’t listen. He was intentionally holding back, terrified that if he allowed himself to land a single blow, he would lose himself to a torrent of rage.

            Tyler doubled over, gripping his head. He was clearly in agony, but Wednesday instinctively knew that it wasn’t from Vlad and Denis’ handiwork.

“Laurel,” he said through gritted teeth. “Crap...why now?”

            He straightened to look at Vlad and Denis, panic surging through his eyes. “You need to run. Now!” he bellowed.

            The boys stepped back warily at the sheer intensity of his voice. Their faces paled as Tyler’s eyes grew bloodshot, bulging out of his head as the transformation began. They shrieked, tripping over each other in their desperation to get away. The Hyde let out a feral screech as it started after them.

            “Darling?” Wednesday opened her eyes to find that she was slumped over her writing desk. Her mother was kneeling beside her in concern. “What did you see?”

            Tyler. Wednesday jerked upright and strode out of the room. Her mother called after her, but she didn’t stop or slow. She took the winding steps two at at a time, nearly running straight into Enid as she reached the top.

            “Woah, sorry, totes didn’t see you there,” Enid said in surprise.

            “Enid, those two boys you saw earlier. Where were they?”

            Enid looked puzzled. “Why—?”

            “Quickly, Enid. It’s important.”

            “About halfway down the hill behind the castle,” she answered, still sounding confused. “They were heading towards the road.”

            Wednesday didn’t even take the time to don her coat before hurrying outside.

            “Wednesday, what—?” Enid’s voice was cut off as the door closed with a thud.

            She started running, but unfortunately speed had never been one of her greatest strengths. Enid caught up to her easily and blocked her path.

            “Move aside, Enid,” she said tightly.

            “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

            Wednesday stared at her, but Enid showed no signs of backing down. “It’s Tyler,” she said at last. “He’s out of control. I’m going to stop him.”

            “I’m coming with you.”

            “I thought you despised being bait.”

            Enid raised her chin with a determined air. “We’re best friends, Wednesday. There’s no way I’m letting you go alone.”

            Wednesday felt a rush of something akin to fondness for the other girl. “Fine,” she said, “but you’d better keep up.”

            Enid actually laughed. “Are you serious? We’d be lucky to make it there by tomorrow with you running like that. I have a better idea.”

“What do you suggest?”

Enid glanced down, her face showing dissatisfaction. “Ugh, this is one of my favorite outfits. You owe me big for this.”

“I’ll accept your conditions so long as they don’t involve physical contact of any kind,”

Wednesday replied.

            Enid sighed. “I guess that’ll have to be good enough.”

Her claws extended and her face began to morph, taking on wolf-like features. She fell to the ground, writhing as her bones bent and cracked into her werewolf form. Her bright pink skirt and jacket fluttered in shreds to the ground.

            The transformation was completed, but Enid remained crouched on all fours, eyes fixed steadily on Wednesday. Her message was clear. Wednesday climbed on her back, and they set off at a run. Wednesday leaned in close as they flew through the forest, twining her fingers in Enid’s thick fur to keep from slipping off.

            It was imperative that she stopped what was about to occur. The world would hardly suffer from the loss of two brainless ninnies like Vlad and Denis, but Tyler would be torn apart if he killed anyone else. She had hurt him today, but she wouldn’t allow him to suffer any more if she could prevent it. She would find a way to stop the Hyde—no matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Enid began running towards the road, but soon veered in a different direction. Wednesday made no objection—she trusted the other girl’s sense of smell to guide them. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before she could hear the Hyde’s familiar roars in the distance.

            As implausible as it seemed, the sounds spurred Enid to run even faster. Wednesday was forced to tighten her grip on her fur to stay seated. Being thrown off the back of a werewolf would be an edifying experience, but it would have to wait for another day.

The screeching roars were ear-splittingly loud now, indicating that the Hyde was just ahead. Enid came to an abrupt halt and twisted her neck to look at Wednesday. It was evident that this was as far as she would take her. Wednesday would have preferred to ride straight into the scene of battle, but Enid was a stickler when it came to her endangering her life. She really did get worked up about the oddest things.

Wednesday slid to the ground. If Enid refused to go any further, there was no point in wasting time. “Go,” she said.

Enid nuzzled her hand, then bounded off into the forest. Wednesday was left with no choice but to follow at her own pace. She had never seen the merit of running, but she could admit now that her judgment had been flawed. Still, how could she have foreseen that she would be tasked with chasing around a hybrid boy-monster to prevent him from murdering innocents?

She found Enid and the Hyde already at each other’s throats, rolling around on the forest floor. Vlad and Denis were huddled against a tree, watching the display with wide, terrified eyes. She mentally amended her previous statement. The term “innocents” hardly applied to these two.

Wednesday surveyed them, noting with dissatisfaction that the boys were relatively intact, with the exception of a few scrapes and bruises. How disappointing. It would have been a delightful surprise to find that they had lost a limb or two.

Vlad spotted her and pointed shakily towards Enid and the Hyde. “M-Monsters,” he said. “They’re monsters!”

“Quit blabbering and get up,” she ordered.

They stood on trembling legs. “Now, you,” she addressed Denis, “take off your coat and shirt and leave them here. And you,” she turned to Vlad, “I’ll need your pants, belt, and shoes.”

They gawked at her as if she was the one who had the brains of a monkey.

            “Are you now deaf as well as dumb?” she asked dryly. “I’d suggest you do as I say. I am half-monster too, you know.” She put a malicious emphasis on the words ‘half-monster.’

            That certainly woke them from their stupor. They hurriedly shed all of their clothing, leaving only their undergarments. She didn’t bother to correct their error. It was no fault of hers that they were incapable of following basic instructions.

“Give them to me,” she commanded.

They handed over the bundles of clothes, shivering uncontrollably from the near freezing temperatures.

“Good,” she said. “You may go.”

            The boys needed no further encouragement. They turned and fled without looking back.

            Wednesday directed her attention to Enid and the Hyde. The Hyde had taken the

offensive, with Enid using her claws to fend him off and slowly weaken him. They appeared to be evenly matched for now.  

            “Enid,” she called. “I need you to pin him down so I can get close enough to touch him.”

            The werewolf shot her a look that clearly said, “Why don’t you ask me for the moon while you’re at it?” Still, she nodded to show she understood, and began stalking warily towards the Hyde.

            The creature threw himself at her, but Enid was quicker. She lunged at the Hyde’s legs, sinking her teeth deep into his right thigh. He snarled as he was knocked off balance and went thrashing to the ground.

            Wednesday swiftly closed in on the Hyde, reaching for one of his clawed hands. But as soon as she made contact, he tore himself free from her grip, slicing a deep gash in her palm. Enid gave a distressed yelp.

            “I’m fine, Enid,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s just a scratch.”

            She tried again, but this time she was hit squarely in the stomach by the Hyde’s flailing arm. She was thrown onto her back, feeling as if all of the air had been vacuumed from her lungs. Well, she thought as she stared at a pearly gray sky, this was proceeding poorly.

            By the time she regained her footing, the Hyde had flung Enid off and they were wrestling and crashing into trees once more. It seemed that she would need to try another tactic.

            Unfortunately, she had neglected to bring her knives with her—or any weapon for that matter. Her coat was always well-stocked with darts, daggers, and a myriad of other deadly devices, but she had failed to bring that as well. She saw for the first time how greatly her vision had shaken her. She had told herself she was still in control, but obviously she was mistaken. She had allowed haste to overshadow logic, and now she was paying the price.

            She deliberated whether Enid could be convinced to attack her, but immediately discarded the idea. Wednesday Addams would be caught wearing neon colors before Enid would purposely bring her harm. She doubted that the other girl would sit idly while she impaled herself with a stick either. She truly did get worked up about the oddest things.

The Hyde was gaining the upper hand now—his larger size and reach giving him an advantage. He threw Enid viciously into a tree, leaving the werewolf struggling to stand. Even so, Enid was the more agile of the two and one well-aimed bite at the Hyde’s jugular is all it would take to end him.

            If this fight was prolonged much longer, one of them would die. Wednesday refused to accept either option. She was an avaricious person by nature, and she would not allow Enid or Tyler to be taken from her.

            But what could she do? As if in answer, a small voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother whispered at the back of her mind. She attempted to silence it, but the voice was incessant—not unlike if her mother had been there in the flesh.

            She finally gave in with a vexed sigh, feeling like a criminal resigning themselves to the gallows. She would not be accused again of failing to explore every possibility. All other methods had failed, so it was only logical to test this avenue. It was only logical, but if her mother turned out to be correct...

            “Enid, that’s enough,” she said. “Stand down and let me speak to him.”

            Enid’s eyes swiveled to her, then back to the Hyde. She growled softly, vocalizing her opinion of Wednesday’s plan.

            “Now, Enid. If you wish to prove yourself as my best friend, I need you to trust me.”

            Enid hesitated, but eventually backed away from the Hyde. Every ounce of her form        

bristled with reluctance, but it was enough.

            Wednesday approached the Hyde slowly. He stared at her like a wary beast, eyes showing no glimmer of recognition.

            “You win, Tyler.” She spoke quietly, knowing that the Hyde’s sensitive ears would pick

up her voice easily.

“If your intention was to get inside my head like an insidious worm, you’ve succeeded. You once named me a cockroach, but you’re a parasite. I’ve tried every possible means to rid myself of you, yet nothing has been effective.”

The Hyde shied away from her, but she pressed forward, studiously ignoring the twisted knot of fear in her stomach. The bitter feeling was not one she was well-acquainted with.

“Victory is yours,” she repeated. “Call me weak or foolish if you wish, but I cannot tolerate futile actions, and it has become glaringly evident that remaining in denial is just that.”

She swallowed, struggling to continue. It’s three simple words, she told herself irritably. An arbitrary combination of sounds that even a toddler could utter with ease. So why was this proving to be more difficult than assembling a torture rack without an instruction manual?

The Hyde had calmed slightly, his enraged roars dwindling away. He studied her with an almost curious expression.

She drew a breath. “I love you, Tyler Galpin. This feeling won’t go away, and I loathe you for it.” She spat the words venomously, as if they were a curse. And who was to say that they weren’t? She wasn’t like Enid and so many others. Things like relationships and love didn’t come naturally to her. She would only hurt him in the end—that was her specialty, after all.

She had already wounded him more times than she could count. Perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps Tyler had decided that it was enough—that he was done with her. She wouldn’t blame him. If she were in his position, she would be looking for creatively violent ways to make the other person suffer.

The Hyde gazed at her, head cocked slightly to the side, as though deep in thought. She faced him, feeling bare and exposed, like she had stripped off every one of her defenses and laid them at his feet. She knew that it would be best if he rejected her, yet the possibility was terrifying. Wednesday Addams—terrified of being rejected by a boy. How utterly humiliating.

The Hyde stepped closer, extending his arm towards her tentatively. She reached out with her uninjured hand, savoring the feeling of his leathery fingers curled around hers. Recognition flooded his eyes—along with another emotion she had come to know well.

The transformation was triggered, his bones cracking and shifting under his skin until it was just Tyler again. The feel of his hand in hers was different, but the love reflected in his eyes never changed. Love for her, as ridiculous as that seemed.

“Wednesday...” He wavered for a moment before his knees gave way. She moved quickly to break his fall, lowering him gently to the ground.

Enid trotted over, holding Vlad and Denis’ clothes gingerly between her teeth. Wednesday took them with a nod of acknowledgement. Enid nuzzled her hand once more before retreating, leaving her and Tyler alone.

Wednesday set the clothes beside him, then turned to give him privacy. For the first time she was grateful for his strange sense of propriety. She was ready to seize at anything to avoid facing what had just transpired.

But all too soon, he said, “You can turn around now.” His voice, though bone weary, held

a definite note of eagerness.

            She obeyed reluctantly. The clothes Tyler wore were several sizes too large, and his eyes

were heavily ringed with exhaustion, but she still couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the sight of him.

“Wednesday...” he began. “I—”

“So, it seems that it worked.”

A look of befuddlement crossed his face. “What?”

“The idea came from my mother, unfortunately. According to her, confessions of love are essentially a form of mind-control. I deemed it worth a try.”

The pain that entered his eyes bothered her more than she would have ever imagined possible. “So, everything you said—you didn’t mean any of it? It was all just part of another one of your plans?”

This was her last chance to undo the damage, to climb back inside her fortress and lock the gate for good. That was the logical choice, the safe choice. It was likely even the best choice for Tyler’s future.

But as she looked at his crestfallen expression, she found herself shaking her head. “No. It wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t meant it.” There was no evidence to support that claim, yet she instinctively knew that it was true.

He chewed on his lower lip. He seemed hesitant—as if he was still too afraid to believe it. “Then...you actually, I mean—"

“Stop rambling and say it, Tyler.”

He blushed profusely. “So, you really love me?” The query was soft, tentative even, but the hope in his voice was undeniable.

She felt her own cheeks color, her controlled façade slipping away. She imbued brusqueness into her voice in an effort to regain some of her lost dignity. “That’s what I said. You know I dislike repeating myself.”

“Then...can I kiss you?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to meet his gaze evenly. “I already told you that you don’t have to ask permission for every—"

His lips sealed over hers, cutting off the rest of her words. The kiss took her breath away and made her head spin in a rather alarming manner. Enid would probably say she had been ‘swept off her feet,’ but Wednesday preferred to avoid such sappy terminology. Her feet were still planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much. True, she couldn’t seem to think of anything besides the sensation of Tyler’s lips on hers at the moment, but...

She groaned inwardly. This was a nightmare. If the sudden onset of heart arrythmia and asthma-like symptoms didn’t kill her, the mortification surely would.

Chapter Text

Tyler’s bond with Laurel was gone. It had dissolved like foam on a cappuccino the moment Wednesday told him she loved him. At least that was how Tyler had described it, letting his true colors as a barista show. It was almost cheap in Wednesday’s opinion—that the answer all along had been something as cliché as “the power of love.”

Tyler, however, thought it was fitting. The Hyde was a creature driven by emotion, so it made sense that love—the most powerful feeling in existence—would be the key to taming him. Wednesday couldn’t argue that point, not after experiencing firsthand what a merciless slavedriver love could be.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” she asked.

Tyler’s eyes widened in surprise, and Wednesday couldn’t help thinking that no one should be allowed to look that innocent. “Like what?”

“Please, it’s evident that you want nothing more than to mock my appearance.”

“That’s not true,” he said earnestly. “You look amazing. Color suits you.”

Wednesday fingered her plum-colored jacket in disgust. “Don’t get used to it.”

Enid had all but forced her into these nauseating garments. That had been her condition—that she be allowed to dress Wednesday until they resumed classes at Nevermore. Wednesday had sworn to herself, right then and there, that she would never again negotiate with Enid—no matter how dire the circumstances. She would sooner make a deal with the devil himself.

The clothes made her flesh crawl as if coated with ants, but at least her skin hadn’t begun to peel off her bones yet. Enid had mercifully chosen darker hues—an oversized sweater and puffed jacket, both in plum, paired with a plaid skirt of purple and blue. That didn’t make the experience any less miserable, though.

Tyler shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me what you wear. You look amazing in anything.”

“Flattery is for the weak,” she said tonelessly. “You’re sadly mistaken if you think it will have any effect on me.”

“It isn’t flattery. It’s the truth.”

Wednesday looked away, not knowing how to react to the adoration in his eyes. She hated that she believed him.

The path they were on was growing increasingly rugged. She started to climb over a large boulder, but the cursed skirt made it cumbersome. She wondered irritably what brainless cretin had created such a scanty garment. A good skirt was meant to reach to your knees—that was simply common sense.

“Here.” Tyler quickly pulled himself up and extended his hand to her.

She considered refusing his help, but thought better of it. Cursed skirt. She started to raise her injured hand before retracting it and using the other instead. Tyler hauled her up easily, but the flash of pain in his eyes didn’t escape her notice. Why did that bother her so much? She usually thrived on people’s agony.

            “I’m sorry,” he said softly, glancing at her bandaged palm. “All I ever seem to do is hurt you.”

            “I’ve already told you that I’m fine, Tyler.”

            “But if it leaves a scar—”

            “A scar would be welcome,” she cut in firmly. “I’ve actually pondered giving myself one for years now. They’re highly beneficial for intimidation tactics.”

Tyler shook his head, but said nothing. They continued walking in silence, keeping their gazes focused downward to keep from tripping. Wednesday wanted nothing more than to banish the hurt from his eyes, but she hadn’t a clue as to how to do it. Enid’s assessment had been correct—she really did suck at comforting people.

She was relieved when they arrived at their destination. “We’re here,” she said, ducking under a low tree branch.

Tyler followed her and let out a long, low whistle. “Woah.”

They stood on the summit of a mountain, giving them a view that was straight out of a storybook. The castle stood proudly to the west, its turrets scraping the sky overhead. And nestled in the valley below, the sleepy village with its neat rows of tile-roofed cottages stretched out before them.

“This has always been one of my favorite places,” she said, “excluding graveyards and morgues, of course. I used to come here when I was younger and fantasize about throwing my foes off the cliff’s edge.” She kicked a small pebble and watched it disappear into the trees below. “Sometimes I thought I could almost hear their screams as they plummeted to their deaths.”

She tucked her skirt under her, seating herself so that her feet dangled over the edge. The sense of imminent danger was exhilarating. She turned back to Tyler, lips twitching slightly. “You can likely deduce who my imaginary victims were, more often than not.”

He sat beside her. “Yet you stopped me from killing them today.”

“I didn’t do it for them.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I still can’t believe it’s all over. It doesn’t feel real—that I never have to worry about losing control again. I....I can never thank you enough, Wednesday.”

Her dry retort died on her lips when she saw the tears glistening in his eyes. “You’re welcome,” she said, feeling slightly awkward.

“Do you think that we need to worry?” he asked after a moment. “You know—about them telling people?”

“The people of this town learned centuries ago to leave my family alone,” she replied. “You are our guest, which means you are under our protection. If anything, the townspeople will blame them for not steering clear of us. I only regret that I was unable to witness their arrival in town. It would have been pleasant to revel in their utter humiliation.”

Tyler threw his head back and laughed. Surprisingly, she found that she enjoyed the sound. It wasn’t grating to her ears, like most people’s laughter.

He sobered again, looking out at the picturesque scenery. “Thanks for showing me this. I’m really going to miss this place.”

“You’ll see it again next year,” she said automatically, then froze. Had she said too much? She was unfamiliar with the rules of this tribal adolescent tradition. Was it odd to assume that they would still be together a year from now?

But Tyler only smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it. Maybe next time we can come here and watch the sunrise together.”

Her heart rate quickened, but she forced herself to speak matter-of-factly. “If it’s a sunset, I’ll consider it. A descent into darkness is more my style.”

He chuckled softly. “A sunset it is, then. So....what happens when we get back?”

She eyed him curiously. Why would he ask a question he already knew the answer to? Was this a part of one of those strange rules she had yet to learn?

“I will start my second term at Nevermore,” she said eventually, “and you will go back to whatever underfunded, soddy excuse for a school you came from.”

He barked a laugh. “That description’s not far off, actually. It’s really going to suck only seeing you when you can get a visitor pass, though.”

“They can’t hold me there and they know it,” she said derisively. “I’ll come and go from Jericho whenever I wish.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll break the rules just so you can see me?” he teased good-naturedly.

“I hardly need an excuse to break the rules,” she said in a dry voice. “I’ve always preferred to think of them as opportunities for creativity, anyway.”

“And that’s just one of the many reasons why I love you,” he grinned.

She stared at him, taken aback by his sudden admission. Tyler’s grin faded, and he looked self-conscious. He lowered his gaze, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “So, uh, can I take it that we’re...you know, exclusive?”

Exclusive...?

“I am unfamiliar with the meaning of that word in this context,” she said. “You’ll need to elaborate.” Mentally, she made a note to have Enid compile a dictionary containing all the new jargon she would need to memorize.

“O-Oh, right,” he stammered, blushing. “Sorry. It just means that we’re going out. You know—that we aren’t going to see other people.”

“Are you implying that you would prefer to continue seeing other people?”

“No!” he burst out, shaking his head frantically. “I....I just wanted to know where we stood, I guess.”

“Then we are exclusive. I have no interest in a polyamorous relationship.” Dealing with one was already exhausting enough.

“Ok....can I call you my girlfriend then?”

“You’ll continue to address me by my given name,” she said sharply. It was a knee-jerk response—the product of enduring years of her parents’ vomit-inducing names for each other. She tried to gage Tyler’s reaction, wondering if she had been too harsh, but he was smiling broadly.

“For someone so brilliant, there’s a lot you don’t know about this, isn’t there?”

She bristled, but knew he was right. She had spent her most of her life more interested in inventing torture techniques than love and romance. Her mother had likely tried to teach her at some point, but she had never paid attention.

“I just meant that I would think of you as my girlfriend,” Tyler said. “I would never call you anything you didn’t want me to.”

“Oh.” She felt incredibly foolish—not a sensation she was overly fond of. “I suppose that’s fine, then.”

From the smile that lit up Tyler’s face, you would have thought she had agreed to give him a priceless torture relic. He reached for her hand tentatively, twining his fingers through hers.

“So, you’re really ok with me touching you?”

            “I don’t break out in hives, if that’s what you’re asking. I theorized at first that it was

because of our connection as Jekyll and Hyde, but...” She trailed off, realizing the trap she had

laid for herself.

            “But what?” Tyler prompted.

            “I believe you can ascertain the rest.”

            “Wednesday.” He squeezed her hand. “Will you please say it?”

            “I already did,” she replied stiffly.

            “I know, but that was to the Hyde. I want to hear it for myself.”

            Wednesday stifled a sigh. That puppy-dog look of his was criminal. “Fine. I love you, Tyler Galpin. Does that suffice?”

            His face softened. He cupped her cheek with his hand, thumb stroking lightly over her skin. She shivered at his touch, but from pleasure, not revulsion.

He held her eyes and she found that she couldn’t look away. “I love you too, Wednesday Addams.”

            He started to lean towards her, but she pulled back. Every part of her screamed in protest, but there was a loose end that wouldn’t leave her alone. Obsessiveness had always been one of her strongest qualities, after all.

            “There’s something I still haven’t figured out,” she said, trying and failing to ignore the hurt and confusion in Tyler’s eyes.

            “I doubt I have a chance if you couldn’t figure it out,” he said with a frown.

            “That would usually be the case, but this particular question is outside my area of expertise.”

He sighed, sitting back on his hands. “Ok, shoot.”

“What I don’t understand is why our discovery hasn’t been found out by more people. Surely you are not the first person with the Hyde to enter into a mutually amorous relationship. Your mother was married. Assuming that love was the basis of her and your father’s relationship, why did she still lose herself to the Hyde?”

A shadow passed over Tyler’s face. “I’ve wondered that too, and I think I might have the answer.”

Wednesday waited impatiently for him to continue. Her fingers itched for her journal, but she had neglected to bring it with her. She would have to commit his words to memory and record them when they returned to the castle.

“Today,” he began, “when everything happened...were you afraid of me?”

She stared at him, not seeing what this had to do with her question.

“Just trust me, Wednesday. Were you afraid?”

“No,” she said at last. She had feared rejection, but she had never thought to fear him.

He nodded. “My parents did love each other, but a part of my dad was always scared of the Hyde. He loved my mom, but he was afraid of her too. He never fully accepted her for what she was.

“I think that’s the true secret to controlling the Hyde. It’s not just love—it’s acceptance. That’s what you gave me, Wednesday.”

He bent forward to kiss her soundly, and this time, she let him. Just like before, the gesture banished all coherent thought, turning her brain to mush. When they finally parted, leaving her shaky and breathless, she blurted out the first thing she could think of.

“You didn’t ask for permission. You’re improving.”

He gave her a roguish grin. “So are you.”

His tone and expression left no question as to what exactly she was improving at. Her face heated, and Tyler burst into laughter.

“Who knew that Wednesday Addams could actually blush?” he said.

She glared daggers at him, but he only laughed harder. It was at that moment that she

realized it. The boy before her—with his charming smile and innocent eyes—was far more dangerous than the Hyde had ever been.    

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

            The next day Wednesday emerged from the castle, hauling her trunk behind her. The sun had just appeared above the mountains, and a layer of frost still covered the ground.

“Woah,” Enid squealed. “I thought maroon would complement your complexion, and I was totes right. You look amazing, Wednesday.”

            “I look ridiculous.”

            “Don’t be silly.” Enid looked at Tyler. “Right? Doesn’t she look fantastic?”

“Uh...yeah,” he said cautiously.

“If there’s anything you want to see her in, feel free to tell me,” Enid said with a wink.

Tyler smiled nervously. “Thanks, Enid, but I think I’m good.”

“Ok,” she shrugged, “just let me know if you change your mind.”

Enid turned and flounced away. That was the only word to describe her movements. Honestly, the girl acted as if she lived off of marshmallows and jellybeans.

Wednesday eyed Tyler. “If you give her any more ideas, I’ll slit your throat.”

 “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “But hey, at least she doesn’t hate me anymore.”

That was certain. Somewhere along the way Enid had become Tyler’s greatest supporter. When Wednesday returned to the castle yesterday, the other girl had interrogated her for nearly an hour about her and Tyler’s so-called date.

“Are you two lovebirds ready?”

            Wednesday spun and found her mother watching them with a satisfied, knowing smile. It galled terribly, but she had been correct—about all of it. Wednesday would have rather stabbed herself with a rusty knife than admit that to her, though. She had taken care to swear Enid and Tyler to secrecy, yet it was evident that she had still found out somehow.

            “I think so, Mrs. Addams,” Tyler replied politely.

            “Well, I suppose we’ll be on our way then.”

            “Oh, wait!” Enid cried. “I wanted to get one more selfie in front of the castle before we go.”

            Wednesday regarded her with a flat expression. “You’ve already taken plenty, Enid.”

            “I know, but the lighting is good today. It will only be a second, I promise!” She hurried away, already whipping out her cellular device with its disgustingly colorful case.

Once Enid had taken approximately 469 more photographs and Lurch finished loading up their luggage, they piled into the hearse. The family vehicle was almost uncomfortably claustrophobic with two added passengers.

            Wednesday settled into her seat by the window, trying not to focus on how Tyler’s thigh was pressed against hers. She had just begun mentally reciting Machiavelli to distract herself when her mother spoke.

            “Darling, I have two important pieces of news that I believe will be of interest to you and Tyler.”

            She paused, apparently waiting for Wednesday to inquire as to what it was. If that was

the case, she would be waiting until she was a rotting corpse.

            It was Tyler who finally ended the cold war. “What is it, Mrs. Addams?”

            She graced him with a revolting smile. “The first is that you will be transferring to Nevermore.”

            Tyler jolted as if hit by an electric shock. “What?”

            “Your father has already agreed, and all of the details have been arranged,” her mother said smoothly. “You will begin attending once the new term starts.”

            “And Nevermore’s ok with this?” he asked.

“No need to worry about that, dear. I pulled some strings, so it’s all been taken care of.”

Wednesday eyed her mother suspiciously. She knew her family was well-connected, but she doubted that even her parents could convince the powers-that-be at Nevermore to accept a Hyde with a history of murder into their school with open arms. A sinking feeling began to form in her stomach.

“You said you had two pieces of news,” she said. “What’s the second?”

Her mother nodded, eyes twinkling in an alarming manner. “Yes, well, after much consideration, I’ve decided to accept a position as Nevermore’s new principal.”

Wednesday scarcely refrained from smashing her head through the hearse window. Her mother—principal of Nevermore. She couldn’t have conjured a worse scenario if she had tried.

One thing was certain, though. With both Tyler and her mother at Nevermore, it seemed that this term would be even more eventful than the last.

Chapter Text

            “Now, what you’ve all been waiting for, please help me welcome—Mrs. Wednesday Addams!”

            Wednesday stalked onto the stage amidst a chorus of sycophantic applause. The spotlights hit her like laser rays, and she nearly shielded her eyes on impulse. Were these fools trying to blind her? They would actually rise a few notches in her book if they were. It would be one of the more creative ways that someone had tried to maim her.

            “Welcome, Mrs. Addams.” The man who stood on the stage was tall and trim, with chestnut-colored hair and unnaturally white teeth. His name escaped her, but she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to remember. It was something basic—like John or Tom.

Wednesday supposed most women would have consider him handsome, but she felt bored just looking at him. These cookie-cutter types were of no interest to her—she had found that they typically had as much personality as a piece of cardboard.

“Welcome, Mrs. Addams.” Mr. Cardboard extended his hand and gave what he had probably been told all his life was a winning smile. “You look stunning.”

She stared at him until his smile flickered and he dropped his hand. He cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured towards one of the chairs that had been set out. “Please have a seat.”

The chair had been upholstered with good, black leather. At least they’d gotten something right. She sat stiffly, still feeling like she was being fried alive by the stage lights.

“Well, Mrs. Addams, can I just start by saying how happy I am to have you here?”

“That makes one of us,” she said flatly.

Mr. Cardboard laughed as if she had made some great joke. “Isn’t she something, ladies and gentlemen? Not only a talented author, but funny to boot.”

Wednesday imagined how satisfying it would be to tie this buffoon to a torture rack and make him squeal like a pig. Tyler owed her dearly for this—that was for certain.

Mr. Cardboard lounged back in his chair and crossed his legs. “So, we’re here to talk about your new, best-selling novel—The Jekyll to My Hyde. Congratulations, by the way. Would you start by telling us a little about the book?”

A torture rack was unfortunately out of the question, so she would have to content herself with the next best thing. This interview hadn’t been her idea, but she might as well have some fun with it.

“The book is 267 pages and has thirty-three chapters,” she replied dryly. “The genre is horror fantasy, and the publishing company is Whitetree, Inc. You can buy it online or at your local bookstore.”

Mr. Cardboard’s perfectly combed eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “G-Great,” he stammered. “So—” He glanced at his notes. “Ah yes, so the book centers on a teenage girl named Viper de la Muerte. What can you tell us about her?”

“Viper is intelligent, independent, and fearless. She also has the obsessiveness of a serial killer.”

Mr. Cardboard looked like he might choke on his own saliva, but he soldiered on bravely.

 “So, Viper eventually meets a boy with a dark secret, and as events unfold, a romantic relationship begins to develop between the two of them. What was it like for you writing that aspect of the story?”

            “You’d have to ask my husband,” she said dryly. “Writing romance is his preferred

method of torture, not mine. I take full credit for all of the gore, though.”

“I—I see.”

The inane questions continued, with Mr. Cardboard’s face gradually turning a very interesting shade of reddish-purple. Wednesday’s lips twitched upward. It seemed that this whole interview nonsense had some redeeming qualities, after all.

“Well,” Mr. Cardboard said at last, “I’ll close with one final question. The Jekyll to My Hyde, at its heart, is a story about love and acceptance. The power and poignancy of your writing, Mrs. Addams, has led many readers to wonder if the book is meant to be symbolic—and is actually based on real-life experiences. So, I’ll let you put the rumors to rest once and for all. How much, if any, of the story was inspired by true events?”

“All of it. I lobbied for my publishing company to market it as non-fiction, but I was unfortunately unable to convince them.”

            Mr. Cardboard laughed, but it sounded strangled. “Well, thank you again for your time, Mrs. Addams. It’s been a, uh, real pleasure.” He stood quickly, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. “And ladies and gentlemen, please don’t forget to head to the main hall where Mrs. Addams will be holding a book signing right after this.”

            Wednesday soon found out that ‘book signing’ was a euphemism for hell—or at least the closest thing to it. She sat at a table, surrounded by an endless sea of squealing teenage girls. They were as persistent as gnats—every time she managed to get rid of one, another sprung up to take her place.

Most of the girls reached her table and started gushing incoherently. It took every iota of her restraint to keep from jamming their precious books into their mouths to shut them up.

            She toyed with the idea of leaving, but she had given her word to Tyler. She had no choice but to endure this surprisingly effective form of torture.

“Next,” she called. She braced herself for another wave of nonsensical rambling that threatened to make her ears bleed, but it never came.

She raised her eyes to find a petite girl—probably no older than thirteen or fourteen years old. She was certain she had never seen her before, yet her large eyes were strangely familiar. The girl stepped forward almost tentatively and laid her book on the table.

“M-Mrs. Addams,” she stammered shyly, “I wanted to thank you. Because of you, I know that there’s hope for people...like me.” She lowered her voice even further as she spoke these last two words.

Wednesday stared at her. The familiarity of the girl’s eyes made sense now. This child was also a Hyde. She reached forward on impulse and gripped the girl’s hand.

“You’ll find them someday,” she said with quiet intensity. “The person who accepts you for who you are. Don’t settle for anything less.”

The girl nodded. There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was radiant. “Thank you.”

Wednesday signed the book with a flourish and the girl left, clutching the autographed novel to her chest like it was made of solid gold. She sighed inwardly as yet another squealing child approached her table. Oh yes, Tyler owed her dearly for this.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

            “Wednesday!” Tyler rushed forward and drew her into a long kiss. Even after all this time, the sensation of his lips on hers made her heart pound treacherously. “You were brilliant up there,” he grinned. “How was the book signing?”

            “Torturous,” she replied. “I am still deliberating on how to make you pay for it.”

A smile spread over Tyler's face. “Is that so?” Experience had taught him that her methods of punishment—though creative—were hardly unenjoyable. Still, she couldn’t afford to think of that now. Turning red would only hinder the dignified air of offense she was trying to project.

With an effort, she forced her mind back to the present. “There was an interesting development, however.”

            Tyler listened, eyes brightening, while she told of her encounter with the young Hyde girl. “That’s fantastic, Wednesday,” he said excitedly. “This means that it’s working.”

            “It would seem so.”

            She had originally published her journal within the outcast community shortly after graduating from Nevermore. Her work had been well-received, and she had even been awarded the Mary Shelley Young Writer’s Award that year.

However, Tyler had worried that the exclusivity of the outcast community meant that some people with the Hyde would miss hearing about their discovery. It had been his idea to adapt the journal into a novel that would appeal to a larger audience. To most readers, The Jekyll to My Hyde would simply be an entertaining fantasy book, but the true message would be clear to those with the Hyde.

“I’m proud of you,” Tyler said. “Your book is saving lives...and who knows?” He rested his hand lightly on her stomach. “It might even save our little girl someday.”

Wednesday laid her hand over his. “Perhaps.”

Her pregnancy had been a surprise to everyone, with the exception of her mother. She had purportedly seen a vision of Wednesday and Tyler with an infant years ago—during their first trip to Transylvania together. Wednesday wasn’t far enough along to know the gender yet, but Tyler already insisted on calling her ‘little girl’ because her mother claimed the child would be female.

            Wednesday had never considered herself the motherly type, yet she found herself looking forward to meeting the child. This was her and Tyler’s offspring, after all. Regardless of what combination of genetics the child received, they would be better off than the majority of the population.

            Nevertheless, she wished there was a way to erase the infuriatingly satisfied smile that her mother always seemed to wear recently. It was humiliating to look back and realize that she had known all along what the future held. How amusing it must have been for her to watch Wednesday flounder around and make a fool of herself in those early days.

            Tyler’s voice drew her out of her reverie. “Are you hungry?”

            “Ravenous,” she replied. She had put little stock in the rumors about ‘eating for two’ before she became pregnant. Now there were times she was convinced she was the host body of an all-consuming parasite rather than a human infant.

            “Well then, what do you say we get out of here, Mrs. Jekyll?”

            Her lips curved into the small smile that she reserved only for him. “I suppose that would be tolerable, Mr. Hyde.”

            Her hard stance against appellations had weakened over the years. She and Tyler had several nicknames for each other, but they were perfectly reasonable. Not at all like the abhorrent ones her parents used. She had already made Pugsley vow that if she and Tyler started sounding like that, he was to end her miserable existence immediately.

            As she and Tyler walked, hand in hand, to the parking lot, she pondered—not for the first time—the irony of her life. Her master plan from all those years ago had come to fruition. She was a successful writer and had published her first work at an even younger age than Mary Shelley. She had earned renown and rewards, and a good bit of wealth besides.

But all of that paled in comparison to Tyler. Binding her life to his was—and always would be—her greatest accomplishment. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the renown and wealth, however. She might be in love, but she hadn’t become witless.

Tyler glanced down at her with a sly smile. “So—have you decided on my punishment yet?”

She tried to muster a glare, but she knew she was red to the roots of her hair. Love hadn’t made her witless, she thought stubbornly. Not completely, anyway.