Chapter Text
One of the most valuable lessons that Wednesday has learned during her stay at Nevermore is that the vast majority of things are, at last, a matter of perspective.
Her mother's legacy, for example, is everywhere in this place. Her memory soaks the air and fills in the walls, it spreads in every crevice it can reach.
(Morticia Frump might be the only woman in the world capable of haunting people and places while still alive)
Having to live with it day after day seemed like such a heavy burden for a girl of sixteen, perpetually swallowed by her own mother's heavy shadow, condemned to be inevitably compared to what many considered the embodiment of an archetype: the perfect woman. And yet suddenly that seemed like such a silly thing to be concerned about when Wednesday found herself standing between her school and its destruction, trying to stop the monster plaguing the forgotten town of Jericho while dealing with the dreadful, horrific things she saw in her visions.
Cursed to foresee, cursed to know, cursed to care.
All of that is now in the past, of course. Barely, but still, it is.
The school board has assigned them a new principal. He has big shoes to fill with Weems so tragically gone, but he seems to at least genuinely care for them. He also used to be a student at Nevermore, so he knows his way around the school well. Most kids prefer not to think about the whole Hyde/Undead pilgrim ordeal, complaining about the amount of homework they have and going into town on the weekends. Very few stop by the modest graveyard just past the main street to drop flowers on their ex-headmistress tombstone.
Still, Wednesday feels like there is much to learn about the mess that was her first semester at Nevermore, especially how harmless some things seem to be when compared to much more threatening and downright dangerous others. And as she's beginning to notice during this new year, it apparently goes for people, too. She sees it every day, particularly when it comes to her Xavier. It baffles her, how easily her schoolmates skip over the casual darkness that he embodies. Painting ravens on the walls in the dead of night, creeping under her balcony as she plays her cello, so close to the edge he might as well blend into the stone.
There's a reason why she had mistaken him for a monster
On most days she wakes up earlier than all of her peers, loving the peace and clarity that comes with sipping coffee and reading alone in the empty cafeteria as she waits for Enid, her best friend (how disgusting, how nauseating, she loves it so) to come down and join her. On most days he comes towards her moving his gangly, too-long limbs like it's his first time inhabiting his own body, similar to a willow swinging in the early morning breeze. He sits next to her and waits till all of their friends are engrossed in their own conversations to quietly tell her all about the nightmares that keep him up at night. He's all bruised eyes and tired voice and she can't for the life of her pull her focus away from him and his trust and his devotion. He whispers of harrowing dreams like he's confessing at the altar, his back bowed like he has a cross resting over it.
He's restless too, her boy. Always running in the woods or playing rampageous video games with Ajax and their other friends in their dorm room (she thinks it a childish and vulgar form of violence, really). Either that or he's painting, torturing canvases with harsh streaks of black and red, blasting music so loud he can't hear his own thoughts. Still, to the majority of their peers (to the untrained eye) Xavier Thorpe seems, if not always cheerful, at least somewhat socially capable and well-adjusted. Maybe it's because he's a little bit of a pushover, maybe because he's genuinely a decent kid when it comes down to it, but he's pretty much well-liked by schoolmates and teachers alike.
What Wednesday finds surprising, though, is not how well-liked Xavier is, but the fact that most people deem him as, well, harmless, benign, just the average popular guy (as average as an outcast can be, anyway) with just the right amount of angst to be an artist. And after many hours of careful consideration, Wednesday has come to the conclusion that the main reason why Xavier is seen this way, is that he's always standing right next to her. Which, okay, fair enough. Hard to focus on the passive-aggressive, sulking boy who can hypothetically animate nightmarish creatures when he's holding the hand of a girl who is rumored to eat flesh and crushed some crazy bitch's head under the heel of her platform mary-janes.
Wednesday selfishly wishes people wouldn't be so easily distracted, it would sure as hell spare her a lot of drama.
*
They find themselves in the Nightshades library, it's one of those rare occasions when Wednesday lets herself be dragged to the pointless social gatherings the 'secret' society hosts. Enid has been invited to pledge at the beginning of the school year on account of her beating the shit out of the Hyde. The scars on her face have all healed perfectly but one, resting pale and harsh against her left temple. Enid doesn't mind, she never tries to cover it with makeup or a hairdo. She wears it as if it's just an accessory, nothing but another one of her faux pink furs.
(And if Wednesday sometimes gets up from her bed in the middle of the night just to kiss that scar after a nightmare, that's nobody's fucking business)
Ajax nods stiffly as a greeting as Wednesday makes her way towards the couch holding the disgustingly clichè red solo cup by its thin white rim. He doesn't particularly like her, and she doesn't particularly care. While in other circumstances she would enjoy his disdain towards her, it's inconvenient and awkward sharing two of the most important people in her life with someone who can't stand her.
But at the end of the day, Wednesday Addams is still Wednesday Addams, and even though she might not actively enjoy people disliking her as much as she used to, she can't exactly bring herself to care either.
*
'Well, for the record, I wasn't exactly fucking thrilled about you and Enid either at the beginning' She has never heard Xavier speak with a man's voice, all boyish charm and surly as he usually is. Yet now his words are the only sound that echoes in the suddenly silent room.
what the hell what the hell what the hell
'What? why wouldn't you have liked Enid?' Ajax cries, enraged.
An echo of cruel, cruel worlds swirls in her mind: what's to like?
Wednesday can't recall exactly which one of the dry comments she made throughout the night made Ajax snap at her the way he did, with a choice of words so vulgar it made all conversation come to a halt. Maybe it was because she was mostly entertaining herself by browsing the dusty books on the shelves rather than making conversation, maybe it was the way she compared drinking Yoko's abysmal drinks to sipping gasoline (and not in a good way), or maybe it was when she said Enid's scar makes her look less bland (she meant prettier and fiercer, obviously. How dense can these people be?)
Still, the result is all the same.
A joyless, dark chuckle escapes Xavier's throat. He and Ajax have been going at it for a while now, and Wednesday is pretty sure she has never seen him quite this unhinged before. It brings her back to those cursed moments when she was looking at him through thick prison bars, but even then he seemed more defeated than angry.
'Well, for-fucking-starters, she made my whole relationship and breakup with Bianca a hell of a lot more public than it needed to be'
Bianca mumbles a barely audible 'Oh hell no' before pushing herself down the counter and hastily making her way to the stairs and out of this whole mess.
Enid's face burns bright red with shame, in her drunken state she can barely get a messy string of sputtered I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry out of her trembling cherry-tainted lips.
Wednesday wants to slap both boys silly for making her cry.
'And' damn, apparently Xavier is far from done, less than ideal really. 'Need I remind you that she was the one who spread all those terrible rumors about Wednesday when she first got here? talk about a fucking warm welcome'
'Oh, as if they weren't mostly true! If she managed to involve herself with a Hyde, she's likely deranged enough to indulge in cannibalism as well'
For a single, horrifying moment, Wednesday genuinely fears Xavier is about to fight his best friend. She's so distracted by it that she barely registers the surprise at hearing Ajax use a word as formal as indulge. Xavier's fists stay clenched at his sides, skin pulled so tight over his knuckles it turns white. Strands of hair have escaped his half-bun and are now flying around his gaunt face. They get into his mouth when he breathes a little too hard.
She watches Xavier watch Ajax, eyes full of betrayal and rage, and she thinks back to when the normies assaulted him and how he didn't care enough to protect himself from their fists, but he cares enough about her to defend her over something as silly as a few insults. Still, Xavier Thorpe is not a violent boy. He lets his fists drop and his whole body relaxes at once. He looks crestfallen, moving his gaze around the room and biting his tongue as if he's afraid of what he'll say if he meets Ajax's eyes again.
At last, he takes her hand, then goes for the stairs ignoring his best friend still spitting insults behind him.
*
'You made Enid cry'
Those are the first words Wednesday utters, breaking the long silence that has surrounded them since the moment they emerged on the roof.
Xavier hums, pensive. He holds her a little closer. 'I didn't mean to' his words sound so dejected she can't help but move her hands to hold his face more firmly.
'I know' she answers as she lets her fingers trace the sharp line of his cheek 'You wouldn't still be breathing, otherwise'
He actually laughs at that, for the first time that night, and Wednesday is so relieved she hates herself a little for it.
'Xavier' she begins, then pauses for a moment to think about the best way to handle him and the absurd amount of emotions that he's capable of feeling all at once 'I get that we're… involved now, but if you start picking fights with everyone who badmouths me, you are never going to know peace again' He looks like he's about to argue, so she continues before he can 'And, I honestly don't even care that much'
'it's just' Xavier stops, struggling. His hair tie probably lost somewhere between the Nightshades library and this quiet corner under the night sky. 'He's not just anybody, you know? He's my best friend. He should be happy for me, or at the very least respect my girl'. Wednesday's mouth twists in disgust at being labeled as something so childish as his girl, but whatever, she'll have time to address it later.
She sighs in a very uncharacteristic show of emotion. She has come a long way from the girl she was when she first got here, but she knows she can still be a bit of.. how do the normies say? ah, yes, a cunt. She also knows Ajax means well, and Xavier needs friends he can trust.
For his benefit, she replies 'He just worries for you, because he knows I can hurt you, and thinks that I will'
'Will you?'
'Never on purpose'
And Fuck, when has Wednesday Addams become so disgustingly sappy. she frowns as he kisses her furrowed brow, then her lips, looking at her with soft eyes full of reverence.
At last, he lets her go. 'Fine, I'll apologize tomorrow'
'to Enid as well'
'First thing in the morning' He promises.