Chapter Text
One moment Wednesday was walking in the rain, trying to soothe away the stew of emotions her defeat by Bianca had left, and the next, she found herself lying in a bed.
Disinfectants, lemon verbena, a life of disappointment. Wednesday must be in a bed in Nevermore’s infirmary. She sat up quickly, relishing the head rush, and dropped her hands from her chest to her sides.
Next to the bed sat Xavier Thorpe. Tortured artist looking… tortured. Probably the emotional kind. Or gastrointestinal.
As Wednesday questioned the boy about what happened and his motives for saving her, that tortured look only got worse. She denied him the thanks he sought in an effort to provoke anger, but he only contorted his face further. Weak and overly expressive, if she had any hope of protecting him, he’d have to learn to be less obvious.
After explaining their history together - Wednesday remembered the day but would never have matched the pudgy ten year old with the lithe teenager in front of her - he sat rubbing ink stains on his left hand with his right, not making any progress in scrubbing away the mark of his obvious discomfort.
“You save my life to repay a life debt. I can appreciate that. But you stayed by my side when I was unconscious, and now look like you are about to suffer of diarrhea of the gastric or emotional variety. Explain,” she demanded.
He looked in her eyes and his hands stilled. “Diarrhea of the gastric or emotional variety. This is not how I expected this conversation to go.” He looked around the room to make sure they were alone and then looked up, as though seeking strength. “Look at your hand, Wednesday.”
She glanced down and immediately realized he was indicating her right hand, the palm of which was stained with the same substance that had gotten on the heel of his. She rubbed at it and saw that it didn’t smear or flake, more like permanent marker than paint. “Something got on us at the courtyard? Did this come off the gargoyle? A slow acting topical poison?” she ruminated, speaking more to herself than the boy watching her.
“It’s where I touched you. I mean, I guess we had a lot of bodily contact when I tackled you. But skin to skin. Most of us are covered by our uniforms. But our hands…” His rambling faded out as Wednesday caught his intended meaning.
“No,” she said. She turned and threw her legs over the side of the bed, intending to leave. Xavier’s hands on her knees stopped her.
“No? That’s not how this works.” His hands remained on her knees. She looked at them in an attempt to set them on fire. He had enough self preservation to remove them but not enough to stay put when she hopped off the bed and moved past him.
“I have no interest in friendships or romance, let alone anything permanent,” she explained, her voice even and with no warmth to soften the words. She opened the door to the infirmary and, like a puppy, he followed her into the hall. With his long legs, he easily kept up with her strides. The earlier signs of discomfort were gone, replaced now with a hurt look on his face. “It’s nothing personal.” There. She’d made an effort to comfort him.
She stopped so short her boots squeaked against the stone floors and Xavier shot past her before circling back to face her head on. She looked straight forward, not seeing his chest so much as past it.
She comforted him. And earlier, she had thought about protecting him.
Wednesday’s lip curled in a snarl.
“It’s nothing personal? You are my soulmate. My perfect match. You don’t want me and I’m not supposed to take that personally?” He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her attention back to him. He looked so lost.
“I have no interest in patriarchal magic intended to create outcasts with the strongest blood lines. I have better uses of my time. Like escaping this place and exacting revenge against my parents for bringing me here.” She began to walk again, unsurprised when he kept apace.
“Soulmates aren’t about bloodlines. You sound like my father. Soulmates are exactly what the label says. They are the perfect compliment to your soul. The person who understands and complements you perfectly.” He sounded wistful and desperate.
“I am an island. I am complete on my own. So what does that make you, Xavier Thorpe? Nothing.” This final barb landed and stuck. Xavier stopped walking and watched her climb the stairs to Ophelia Hall without another word.
XxXxX
Wednesday took to wearing leather driving gloves around the school. Xavier didn’t. The gossip mill was rife with speculation about who Xavier’s soulmate might be. To his credit, he kept silent on the topic.
In Jericho, she met a boy willing to provide a getaway car. Tyler. Something about him made her feels as though milk curdled in her stomach but she would put up with the sensation long enough to get to the Burlington train station.
They made plans to meet at the Harvest Festival so he could drive her away. As soon as Wednesday saw Xavier Thorpe approach her at the carnival, all hope of a smooth escape was lost.
Instead, she won him a panda at the dart game. He thanked her and hugged it to him like she’d meant something by the gesture. He had a small smile on his face, which Wednesday found unfortunately endearing.
The smile slid away and she followed his gaze to see Tyler walk up. “Am I interrupting?” he asked with that same wholesome demeanor that Wednesday couldn’t help but find suspicious.
“Yes,” Xavier said before she could answer. His hold on the panda shifted from sweet to proprietary, though Wednesday could not pinpoint how he had accomplished this.
“Change of plans, Tyler,” Wednesday explained without taking her eyes from Xavier. “Another night?”
She looked over to find him shrugging uncomfortably, backing away while keeping his eyes on her. “Yeah. Sure. Another time,” he said before he disappeared into the crowds.
Wednesday left the darts booth, walking in the other direction from the one Tyler had gone. Following alongside Wednesday appeared to be Xavier’s new favorite pastime. “Were you planning to go on a date with him?” he accused.
She brushed him off, “If I were, it would be my business.”
“Nuh uh,” he responded as he put his hand on her shoulder to stopped her walking away from him. “It is absolutely my business. It’s bad enough that you’re rejecting me, you can’t then expect me to sit back and watch you with another guy.”
“As it happens, it wasn’t a date. Tyler had offered to give me a ride.” Wednesday hardly knew why she was giving him any of this information. Or why she didn’t start walking again.
“He’s bad news. Stay away from him.” Xavier stared her down.
“My father doesn’t tell me what to do. I hardly think you’re in a position too.” She was gearing up to give him a proper piece of her mind when the telekinetic asthmatic Rowan Laslow stormed by, bumping into Wednesday’s arm.
Her head snapped up and the carnival around her disappeared. Wednesday watched Rowan slashed open by the local monster lurking near Nevermore. His abdomen shredded, it only took moments to watch the boy die.
When Wednesday came back to the present, she found herself sagging on her feet, held up only by Xavier’s arms wrapped around her.
“Wednesday! Wednesday! Are you ok? What was that?” His voice was quiet but frantic.
She stood with her own strength and grabbed his hand. “No time. Let’s go!” She took off running after Rowan, chasing him out of the Harvest Festival grounds and into the woods. Xavier was a silent present at her side. He didn’t ask inane questions or slow her down, but held her hand and ran as asked.
They caught up to Rowan just out of sight of the carnival lights. Wednesday dropped Xavier’s hand as they stopped in front of him.
No sooner had they lost contact without warning, Wednesday shot into the air, pressed against the bark of a giant tree, hanging five feet in the air. His powers pressed against her throat and Wednesday knew she didn’t have long before he killed her.
Below, Xavier wasted no time shouting at his roommate, shoving, and trying to distract Rowan so he would drop Wednesday. Eventually he managed to wrestle Rowan into letting go of the girl. She gasped for breath on her hands and knees at the base of the tee. Xavier had one arm around Rowan’s throat and the arm he’d been using to press Wednesday into the tree pulled up behind his back. With the heigh he had on Rowan, Xavier was able to get him up on his tiptoes.
The position left Rowan’s back pulled against Xavier’s chest, his spine arched and torso exposed. Without warning, a monster raced out of the trees and slashed its sharp claws through Rowan’s stomach. The injured boy fell to the ground, yowling. The monster’s arm pulled back, ready to make the same attack against Xavier, but it pulled up short when Wednesday grabbed his arm and tugged him hard so that he tripped away from the monster’s line of attack, behind her.
The monster seemed almost ready to slash through her instead, but instead it stumbled backward and fled into the shadows of the forest. The three teens it left behind were a wreck - a girl barely able to take a breath through a throat that felt bruised beyond use, a boy sobbing and shaking while trying to shove his roommate’s guts back inside his body, and a corpse with broken glasses.