Chapter Text
Enid always knew it was a possibility someday but she never really thought that she would ya know. . . actually die.
She had prepared for the inevitability of it and had given Matt and Foggy letters to be sent to her loved ones in case of her death. She even had a will! Though when she was Spiderwolf in high school, it had been dicey as apparently you had to be 18 years of age in California AND New York to have a will. Thankfully, her best friend, Yoko, had known her secret identity and in the case of her death, to follow her wishes if she ever kicked the bucket.
Enid glances through the towers of New York to see the sun set as the sky turns this orange that made her think of orange creamsicles and summer days. Despite the temp being 71°F, Enid feels so so cold. Her body trembles in a combination of shock, excruciating pain and slight denial.
She had been reckless.
Wednesday had always berated her for always failing to think before she acts but . . . she couldn’t have let that little girl, Rosie, to be killed. Not for Wilson Fisk’s vendetta and ambitions. The ironic part was that she hadn’t even been in the Spidey suit! She had been on her way home after a study session with Yoko at the Weather Vane. Wilson’s goons had been chasing after Hawkeye and they had shot across the street while Hawkeye was zooming down Park Ave.
The bullets had felt like a punch from Thor before it became an excruciating burning pain that had stolen the breath from her lungs. As soon as the bullets had hit, Enid knew. She knew that her healing factor wouldn’t be enough to save her this time and that there wasn’t enough time to get help. She had quickly hobbled off the scene of the shooting, ignoring the cries for her to stay put or the relieved cries of Rosie’s mother and with the last of her strength, ducked into an alley and used her webs to pull her up to the roof of her and Wednesday's favorite hangouts/base of operations. The building was an abandoned dance studio that had sat there for years with a gorgeous spiderweb stained glass window and balcony. Enid had borrowed the top attic space to store her backup heroing supplies before Wednesday had started showing up there for her midnight cello practice back during their freshman year of college at NYU. Turns out that Wednesday's family had owned the building and before Wednesday had figured out her secret identity, the two of them constantly ran into each other out on the balcony while she was in the suit.
Good times. Good times.
The world was starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges and she could feel her heart struggling to keep her alive as the sensation of her lungs burning and filling with blood persisted.
Time seemed to last an eternity but simultaneously felt like it was going at light speed as her thoughts drifted incoherently.
She guessed if she had to die, she didn’t mind dying with her back against her and Wednesday’s spiderweb stained glass window. Her half of the windows that was covered in colored tape was so faded, it was almost completely gone. She wondered if Wednesday would miss her when she was gone.
“The mark you left on me is indelible,” Wednesday’s voice rang in her head reminding her that she didn’t want to die. Tears start to slide through her grimy cheeks and there was so much angersadnessregret unfurling in her chest. She was in her sophomore year of college and hadn’t even turned 21 yet. Hadn’t had her first drink yet! It was almost her and Wednesday's one year anniversary and she had plans to bring Wednesday to “The Dakota”. One of New York Cities most haunted gothic-style buildings where John Lennon had been murdered and where Rosemary’s Baby was filmed. She had cashed in some favors for them to stay a night and explore the building while it was temporarily closed for renovations. They had also talked about going to the Met and had made dinner reservations at Ai Fiori, an italian and french fusion place. There was so much she still wanted to do.
Images of wedding rings, a black wedding dress or tux and a child with Wednesday’s rare dimpled smile and obsidian eyes flickered through her mind. Her wish for the future slipping from her grasp as she laid dying. A sob tries to tear out of her throat but she doesn’t even have the energy to do that.
Resignation starts to set in her bones but even stronger was the desperation to say goodbye without really saying goodbye. She didn’t want her last moments to be Wednesday threatening her to stay alive. She would rather die with Wednesday's sharp but fond teasing than Wednesday’s desperate pained threats. She didn’t want her imagination to conjure up that expression. Wednesday’s eyebrows drawn together. Eyes dark with rage and desperation. The slight wobble and crack in her voice as she tries to get reality to submit to her demands.
Fumbling for her phone, she thinks I want to hear your voice one last time.
The phone boops as the numbers get dialed when she clicked Wednesday who was at the top of her favorites list and she hears the dial tone. The tone rings.
One moment.
Another passes before the click as Wednesday picks up the phone.
“Hey Wednesday,”she pants trying to inject as much joy and enthusiasm as she can.
“Hello, my love. Are you almost home? It usually takes you 10 minutes to walk home from the Weather Vane. My father had some birria and I made some tacos with rice and beans. We also have some flan in the fridge.” Wednesday inquires. Her tone relaxed and curious.
Enid can almost imagine it. Their cozy one bedroom apartment with its mixtures of rainbow pastels and monochromatic colors. Thing, Wednesday’s scarred and mischievous cat, lounging on his cat tree. The smell of tortillas, birria, rice and beans in the air. Wednesday was probably wearing her checkered crewneck sweater and black boy shorts. It was chilly this morning so she may still have her snood on.
Enid tries to make a sheepish noise but she’s not sure she succeeded. The bitter tang of blood on her tongue and the swirling pain made it hard to focus on the question.
“Sorry. I had to help this nice old Dominican lady, Mrs. Reyes, with directions. She got me a churro.” Enid lied though she thinks it's true. Just happened a week ago . She tries her damnedest not to wheeze over the phone as it gets harder and harder to breathe.
A slight huff of laughter emerges from her speakers.
“Only you would stop to help ever single abuelita in the streets of New York if they asked.” Her voice warm before there is an inquisitive pause.
“Are you ok? You sound kind of breathless. Did anything else happen?” Wednesday asked.
“Nope. There’s just a lot of people that I have to weave through.”
Enid hopes to God that Wednesday believes her. If she pushed more, Enid might shatter and sob and break over the phone.
There’s a slight pause and Enid can almost feel the slight doubt and see the questioning look Wednesday is sending her way. She is so tempted to blurt out that she’s dying and have Wednesday rush over. But Enid was selfish and wanted to keep the illusion that it was just a normal day where Wednesday was waiting for her at home. That she could make it home to her love.
“Ok. Do you need me to do anything before we both hang up? Based off my calculations, you should be home soon.” Wednesday replies.
“Yeah. Can you tell me that you love me?” Enid rasps out.
A beat passes before Wednesday says with that fond look that was reserved for her and the passionate, determined but never soft tone, “I love you Enid. I’ll love you for eternity and after eternity dies, I'll love you after that as well.”
Enid's heart cracks at Wednesday’s declaration and a selfish part of her, wraps those words and tucks them somewhere deep in her heart as it starts to slow. Before her fingers press the red end button, Enid hears a nervous shuffle before Wednesday asks with concern dripping off her tone, “Enid, don’t lie to me . . .but are you ok? Something feels wrong. . . you’re acting strange.”
At this point, Enid can see the edges of her vision start to darken. Her body feels heavy and everything feels distant and fuzzy. She can’t feel any pain anymore.
“Don’t be mad. When you see what happened.”
“Enid where are y—” Wednesday’s voice turned hard and desperate. Enid distantly heard a note of panic before the darkness and silence started descended upon her.
With one last burst of energy, Enid garbled out, blood and spittle flying out of her mouth, “You have irrevocably changed my world ever since you came strolling into my life during Professor Weems Creative Writing Class and had the audacity to correct my grammar and spelling. Every day, I am so grateful for you. Thank you for loving me. I love you with all my heart and all my soul. I-I’m sorry”.
The last sliver of the sun sunk beneath in the west as day shifted to night. Another day had ended. The only witness to the young hero’s sadden yet loving expression that was frozen in death was the moon.