Chapter Text
Enid was at her wit's end. The taunting line on her computer nearly made her eye twitch. For the first time in a while, she was glad she was alone in their dorm, Taylor Swift blasting at full volume.
She scrolled up to reread what little she’d gotten down the day before and with a sigh, she closed the tab. She could already tell nothing was going to get done tonight. Again. It was already ten forty-five and she had been at this for three hours now.
And just like yesterday, Wednesday was still nowhere to be seen. If they didn't share the same classes she’d think Wednesday went on another life-threatening mission without so much as a hint as to where or why she disappeared for days on end only to come back with blood-
Enid groaned louder and put on some KPOP. BLACKPINK always cheered her up, especially in recent days. Ever since they came back from break, Wednesday had been acting…off.
Their friends didn’t see it as she did though, just blowing it off as typical weird Wednesday but she knew her like the back of her hand. Not like it was hard with how obvious she was being lately.
She’d come home in the middle of the night, smelling of the forest and some nights even blood. Thing would tap his way to bed or to the bathroom for the first aid kit and she’d pretend to sleep as she listened to Wednesday's nightly routine or her getting ready to treat a new wound.
It made Enid furious. After Crackstone- after the hug- after she had so carefully cupped Enid’s cheek and cleaned off the blood, whispering soft praises of her strength- her beauty. Her face felt warm all over again and she put her face in her hands.
That was the last night they’d spent together before they were sent home. That morning had been awkward, sure, but she just chalked that up to, yknow, nearly dying?
The first day back had been substantially worse. Enid had made it there first, already setting up her side of the room. She hung out with Yoko for a while until she made it back to the room and was greeted by Thing crawling up her leg to go on her shoulder, tapping away excitedly.
Wednesday was setting up her beloved typewriter, only turning once she was satisfied with its placement. Enid knew better than to try for another hug but oh god did she want to. They greeted each other but Enid was put off by the formality.
In the hours they spent back together, Enid noticed a disheartening lack of the banter they'd used to shoot back and forth or even just offhand comments about how terrible her music was. Enid tried to be subtle about it, tried to figure out just what possessed her roommate but all she got in response was an “I do not know what you are talking about.”
Thing gave her a two-finger shrug. When they went to bed that night, she even said “goodnight” first! Not “Unpleasant nightmares” or anything! It left her confused. And the next day when she woke up, she and Thing were long gone.
And it’s been like that for days since they came back! It was driving her mad. She missed the sounds of her typewriter, their witty banter. She missed her friends. Thing hasn't been around nearly as much as he used to, but when they did have time alone he gave her updates on how Wednesday was doing but never told her what was going on with her.
But he did give hints. He’d sworn secrecy, apparently, and he enjoyed having all his fingers so she didn't pry. Apparently, she’s been talking to everyone except her. But she wasn't mad at her, so that was good, right? It was confusing though.
Why avoid her if she wasn't upset with her? She sighed. She was exhausted and absolutely did not have the energy for this right now. Looking at the clock she decided to wait a bit before going to sleep. Just in case.
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The waning moon's light shot through the trees, reflecting off the stream they walked beside. It was deathly quiet, nothing but the sounds of rustling leaves and occasional rustle that got Wednesday clutching onto the fang in her pocket that itched to prove itself as a worthy dagger.
Thing rested on her shoulder, enjoying their eerie stroll. She would never tell him this but his companionship was greatly appreciated. His commentary was enough to make her lip upturn the smallest of fractions.
They’d been adventuring through the woods for roughly an hour and a half now and she was eager to go longer but she’d already made a promise to get “quality” sleep tonight.
It’s been a week since she’d had a good night's rest and it was torturous in all the best ways. Her eye bags had grown so deep and dark that she looked even more like a corpse and she adored the creeped-out looks she's been getting for it. She’s even caught wind of a rumor that she actually was just a walking corpse after one of the wolves found her stalking around.
The idea of being brought back to the dead, roaming around in the dark looking for victims to satiate her blood thirst made her grin to herself. But as they say, the most painful experience is to be left alone with one's own thoughts for too long.
Without a boar to hunt or wolves to avoid, she was left to feel the emotions she’s been trying to stomp down since Crackstone. Her thoughts began their spiral into hectic chaos. And not the good kind. And they all spiraled around a certain blonde.
She glanced up at the moon and sighed. The sickening tightness in her chest was back, the swarm of angry wasps scraping against the inside of her stomach. It was frustrating beyond words.
Thing knew better by now than to comment on the change in attitude, having grown tiredly used to it over break. Thank the dark forces. Once the school was in sight, she lifted her snood. Ever since the incident a few nights ago, they'd become even stricter with the curfew. Her name was known enough to the principal by now.
Sneaking in was child’s play. Every turn there was a new someone- student or staff- that she had to avoid, slipping behind walls and even climbing up them. As the janitor walked by, Wednesday felt Thing crawl along her shoulder blades, peaking below. Her hands and legs were spread, pushing against either wall, her back hovering an inch below the ceiling as she watched them pass.
It was exhilarating. She suddenly wished she had access to one of her blades to put between her teeth to complete the look. Once the sound of wheels faded to nothing, she crawled along the ceiling down the hall, enjoying the physical activity just for a few more moments. It reminded her of hunting Pugsley when they were little, though she’d never been able to achieve this in such a wide hallway before.
She pulled her limbs closer to herself once again and landed with lethal grace. Her mother would be proud. She sneered at the thought. She kept close to the wall, hiding her face to blend better into the dark, though there was nobody around.
‘Having fun?’
Wednesday didn't respond verbally, instead shooting him a rare smirk. Climbing up the stairs, she decided to add a bit of a challenge by switching walls occasionally, skipping steps, and pretending they were like the stairs at home and littered with booby traps to avoid.
The door was getting closer and closer. The wasps were back and she tried everything she could to settle them but it only made them push harder and she swallowed the lump they formed. The light was still coming from the bottom of the door.
Thing tapped another comment into her shoulder that she glared at him for. “Absolutely not,” she whispers.
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Enid, as usual, heard them before she saw them. She turned off her phone, threw it on the bed, and waited. The door opened and she held her breath. Wednesday’s hands were covered in blood, but they didn't smell anything close to human.
Wednesday froze in the doorway. She had a small satisfaction seeing her wearing the snood she’d gotten. It looked nice on her. They stared at each other for what felt like minutes before Wednesday broke it and closed the door.
“Where have you been?” Enid asked conversationally though even she could hear the underlining venom. She knew Wednesday heard it too with the way she paused. A blink you'll miss it if you weren't well versed in how to read her.
“I went for a walk,” she answered simply. Thing jumped down from her shoulder and skittered under the bed.
“You sure? Looks like you did a little more than walking”
This time, she didn't freeze. Instead, she simply collected her night clothes and made for the bathroom. “So you're just gonna ignore me?”
The door closed and Enid glared daggers into it.
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The door shut with a deafening click and she rested her back against it. She wasn't anticipating Enid still being awake. She was typically out cold by now. Glancing down at her hands she cursed herself for her negligence.
She’ll be sure to remember to wash off before returning tomorrow. Turning on the faucet she glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked like a mad woman with the twigs and leaves in her hair, the dirt and dried blood on her face and exposed skin, and the bruise forming on her shoulder.
She wondered if this was how she was to look soon when her sanity has been fully liquified. She let herself imagine herself rabid, chasing and scaring anyone that crossed her path.
Reaching within her pocket, she pulled out the fang and let herself grin once again. It was a lovely battle, just what she needed to get her mind off of her quickly approaching end. She placed it on the sink before disrobing.
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“Ugh! I can’t believe her!” Enid ranted, Thing laying on her pillow watching her pace. She sighed and not for the first time stared daggers into the door. “This has to be the longest shower she’s ever taken.” she groaned.
Thing gave a recurring gesture followed by some taps and Enid smiled weakly. “Yeah…I just…I miss her, Thing.”
When she plopped down on her bed, Thing gave her a comforting pat on her leg. “We gotta do your nails soon.” She chuckled and Thing nodded with a fist.
Finally, the faucet was turned off. Enid perked up. It felt like a millennia before the door opened and Enid eyed the random fang in her hand.
“Uh-,” she shook her head. It was usually best not to ask questions you don't want answers to,” I think- no, We need to talk, Wednesday.”
She watched her brow twitch on her way over to her desk. The fang was placed next to her typewriter, next to the bundle of feathers and odd purple branch she’d accommodated over the last few days.
As the silence dragged on, Enid lost her patience. “Why are you avoiding me? At least answer me that!”
She turned to look at her. Enid hardened her glare.
“You make me feel things.”
Enid stared. She stared back.
“I make you…feel things..? Like, good things? Or-?”
“No. It’s- you suffocate me, Sinclair.”
Enid has never heard her stutter once in their year together. She didn't even know she was capable.
“You affect me in ways I can’t control. It’s torture. You corrupt my thoughts with persistence I've only known from the great bhola cyclone. When I am near you I feel like I've ingested neurotoxins. You plague my dreams in the worst ways,” She glared at the floor.
Enid stared, “W-what?” she squeaked.
Wednesday said nothing, instead, she turned around to her bed. “Goodnight, Enid.”
Enid was too shocked to say anything else. When the room was purged into half darkness she blinked and shook her head. She distantly heard thing tapping across the room. She shut off her own light and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling trying her best to digest what she’d just heard.
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It’s been forty minutes. Wednesday began tapping her finger against her chest, counting the cracks in the ceiling to keep her thoughts at bay but they couldn't stop going back to the girl softly breathing beside her.
The wasps were back, but for some reason, they felt heavier than before. It was dreadful. She closed her eyes and squeezed her chest in a weak attempt to calm the serpent around her heart from crushing it completely.
It hurt.
She found herself sitting up, hands still crossed over her chest, and opened her eyes. The perfect image of what necromancy should accomplish. she swung her legs over her bed and slipped on her boots.
She slowly creaked the window open, unsurprised when Thing instantly tapped his away from under her bed to on the balcony as she got her cello.
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Enid was startled at the sound of strings. One fifteen am. She groaned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, doing her best to glare at the empty bed. Glancing to the window she was greeted with the sight of Wednesday’s passionate movements, the bow in her hands sliding in and out of view.
Her other hand jumped, slid, and shook along the board with a speed she’d only seen bullets achieve. The notes rang throughout the campus as they usually did when she performed.
She swallowed. It’s been a month since she’d heard that cello. A month since she’d heard that passion. But…something was different. She sat up, already resigning to her fate of wakefulness until she played out what she needed to.
Her music stand was still inside. She looked back out the window and realized why it was so different. She was free playing. She was on her feet before she could think about it, making her way to the window.
Her notes were dark, and haunting, as they usually were. But then they'd flash to soft and tender. She found herself leaning forward to see her friend play better. She’s never heard sounds so gentle from her before.
She watched her look up at a long-drawn note, her eyes closed. Then she looked back down and she went for it. Her fretting hand shot along as if in battle, her bow vicious with its movements.
Enid didn't even notice she moved until she found herself nearly pressed against the window. Wednesday had a focused frown on her face, eyes squeezed shut. The notes were frantic- a desperation Enid had never heard from her before.
But then it quieted down again to a soft, soothing bundle of notes. But there was this undertone she couldn't pinpoint but it made her uneasy. She watched Wednesday's fingers shake as she played.
Until she realized it wasn't just her hands. Wednesday Addams was trembling. Enid tried to blame the cold but then she was biting her lip, her expression growing more and more saddened and heartbreaking. She knew it was wrong to watch this private moment but…
She sped up once again. The notes remain their desperate plea. For what, Enid did not know. It held yearning. Desperation. An all-consuming need. She heard it as much as she saw it in the way she moved. The bow was almost erratic with its movement- speed and precision.
She jumped when a string snapped. But she didn't stop. Far from it. Her entire body went into every slide, fingers jumping faster than she’d ever seen anything move before. The song began to settle, then.
One lone, sorrow-filled note that ended abruptly. All Enid could hear was her pants. The bow clattered on the floor and she watched her cover her mouth with her now free hand. Her body convulsed and it took her a good minute to realize. She was crying. Wednesday-feel-no-emotions-Addams was crying.
“Wen-” She started.
Her eyes shot open and onto her, wide and frantic. She didn't say a single word but her eyes burned into her own.
“Is- I mean- are you-?”
“I’m fine.” She stood, grabbed her bow as she did, and made for the window. Enid stood in her path before she could stop herself. “Wait! Hold on, just…we need to talk.”
When she said nothing back she took that as her go-ahead. “Look, I don't know what's been going on with you lately- but if what I just heard tell is me anything it's that whatever it is…I don't know, Willa. But that didn't sound like nothing. You don't need to tell me what's wrong- I just- is it…is it me? Because I make you…feel things?”
Silence. Enid waited patiently, watching the gears turn in her friend's head.
“It’s not you, Enid,” she said, shakily. “It-it’s me. I apologize.”
“For what?”
A pause. “I apologize for burdening you with this,” she looked to the sky,” it’s late. I'm sorry for disturbing-“
“It’s fine. I’m more worried about you right now than a couple of missed hours.”
“You don’t need to worry-“
“People who are ok don't play ballads on their balconies and cry, Wednesday. Now stop telling me what I do and don’t need to do and just let me help you. I care about you, Willa. Please, just let me help.”
Wednesday’s eyes were sparkling with the moon's light. Enid wondered how they got so close.
“What did you mean when you said I suffocate you?” She asked quietly.
She heard her take a shaky breath. She looked deep in thought so Enid waited. Even when every cell in her body yearned for answers now she knew the only way to get them was to let Wednesday pace herself.
When she began to speak, it was slow, measured. “My family has a curse. It’s tormented every generation and no matter how much I wished it to be, I was not lucky enough to avoid it.”
“What curse?” Enid felt her chest tighten. She felt her eyes glance to her stomach before she could stop herself, remembering the fear in her dark eyes during the first night after Crackstone. After her death. How she had sat up, hand over the scar as she stared into nothing, breath shaky. Enid watched silently pretending to be asleep as she laid back down. Her hands stayed on her stomach throughout the night.
She watched Wednesday's throat, Bob. “The curse of an Addams is to love one with their entire soul. We do not get to choose who the curse decides to latch us onto. It’s a never-ending torment- an obsession. The curse has been known to take lives for the obsession for another is so strong. Unrequited love has been known to drive some to insanity.”
Enid stared for a while. Then a while longer. Two minutes pass as she pieces everything together.
“The…curse. Do you love me? I-is that what you're trying to say?” Enid’s heart was just about ready to jump straight through her rib cage and into her roommate's hands.
Wednesday turned around, eyes shut tight. She looked down over the railing, distantly wondering about the damage it would cause if she jumped.
She took the deepest most painful breath she’d ever taken in her life before she answered.
“Yes.”