Chapter Text
WASTELAND, BABY!
The rest of the world remains oblivious to a night of bloodshed as Wednesday and Tyler speed away from Nevermore.
The road twists and turns from asphalt to dirt and back again. The sun flickers over trees and buildings and fields of canola and vineyards and patches of pastures peek through the gaps in the trees. Wednesday doesn’t close her eyes. She’s always been resentful of the outside world. She’s always thought that the only way she’d exist perfectly in it is if she was the last person on earth. The road is quiet when its only the three of them. Tyler behind the wheel, thoughtfully tearing his gaze off the road to look at her when he doesn’t think she’s looking. Thing curled up and asleep in the passenger seat behind her. The trees blurring together with the meadows and the fence lines as Wednesday stitches together a plan in her mind. It’s been six hours since they left, and the sun is hitting its peak in the sky, despite how bleak it looks in the winter light.
Wednesday can’t help but let her mind wander to how they ended up here. She’d wanted to be in this position months ago, before the murders, when Rowan was a kid in the infirmary trying to turn Wednesday into someone who could pity him and relate to him. She had never wanted Nevermore. She had never wanted Jericho. She had never wanted Enid as a roommate, all colours and glitter and sunshine. Enid had leapt into her life, assisted in every plan, and now she had crawled into Wednesday’s shrivelled little heart and wouldn’t leave, even with six hours of distance between them. Eugene had been a kid in the Hummer’s shed, no friends and an endless pit of knowledge, and still, Wednesday knew that she’d protect him as fiercely as she would her own family, without ever questioning why. The thought of them, shivering in the aftermath sends a jolt of lightning through the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t ever been the sort of person to care about what she left behind. This time felt a little different.
Cautiously, she turns to Tyler. His gaze flickers towards her.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly. In the wake of them leaving, the hours of excitement and rebellion had waned somewhat. He still wanted to do this, he still wanted Wednesday and to protect her, the same way she had protected him. She’d torn through Marilyn without mercy or reprieve, and he loved her more than he ever had before. Savagely. Still, there was a part of him that wondered if he could turn the car around, tell everyone it was him. He was a monster and Wednesday was innocent. The latter may have been a lie, but the former had never been more truthful.
“I should’ve let her suffer longer.” Wednesday murmurs coldly.
Tyler smirks, a chill running up his spine, half in terror, half in pleasure. “Too late to change it now, I guess.”
“If I had a rack, I could’ve left her there all night. It still wouldn’t be half as cruel as what she did to the others. To you.”
Wednesday seethes quietly at the thought of it, jagged thoughts of Tyler in an electric chair, whispers of Florence and Kent’s conversations, Rowan’s note. She should’ve let Laurel bleed for longer. The thoughts of revenge spiral into murderous rage. She could have stopped it sooner. Let Laurel sit, chained, in the crypt for days before she had the chance to kill anyone else. She didn’t. And here they were. On the run. Yet, when Wednesday realises that Tyler is still looking at her, eyes raking over her like the road doesn’t matter, the anger is subdued. It seems a little easier to keep driving.
Without having to say it, Tyler feels exactly the same. It would be so easy to pretend he’s horrified by Wednesday’s words, her predilection for violence. The simple, perhaps more terrifying truth is that he’s not. He’s thought about it too, and what’s more, he knows Wednesday too well to expect anything less.
“Where exactly are we planning to go?” he says instead.
“My family home is near Cemetery Ridge.” Wednesday says stiffly. Home is where the rack and the spiders are. The darkness and the creaky floorboards. The musk and the decay. It’s easier to pretend Wednesday doesn’t miss it. Thing quirks up at the mention of home, tapping on Wednesday insistently, even as she scowls at him.
Tyler catches the apprehension Wednesday laces in her words. “Are we… going there or avoiding it?”
The flutter in Wednesday’s heart drops to a steady, faint rhythm of someone barely alive, as it usually is. “My family are not getting involved in this.” She replies bluntly.
“What if they can help us? I mean… I’m guessing they got you off that attempted murder charge at your last school.” Tyler shoots back. It’s a safer bet. He would follow her to the ends of the world, would run from his dad forever. Unless it ended with something happening to her.
Tyler can feel Wednesday’s eyes burning into him with irritation as he suggests this.
“We’re keeping my family out of this.” She says lowly.
“But -”
“Tyler.” Her voice is lower, colder than before as she murmurs his name in warning. As if entranced, Tyler closes his mouth.
“Okay. So where do we go?”
Wednesday is quiet for a moment as she considers her options. “We’d have to be close to Hartford by now.”
“It’s hard to tell with backroads.” Tyler replies, checking the fuel gage as he does so. “We might need to head back to a highway soon. I’m getting low on gas.”
Wednesday pulls a map from her shoe, opening it without a single word. “No need. There’s a small town a few miles out. Stop there. Use this.” Wednesday puts a wad of cash in the centre console, and Tyler looks at her for a moment, stunned.
“Where did you get this?”
Wednesday raises a brow. “Emptied my account before I left for Nevermore.”
“You sure came prepared.” Tyler scoffs. He can’t count it while driving, but he knows there has to be hundreds of dollars there. Enough for food, gas and maybe even a hotel.
Wednesday narrows her eyes. “We met because I was going to leave Nevermore.”
“Good point. I’m guessing it’s so they can’t track our purchases?” Tyler asks cautiously. God, she’d thought of everything before he’d even come into her life. He can’t help but be a little terrified of the thought.
“Precisely.”
“You’d make a fantastic serial killer.” He remarks aloud.
He means it as a compliment, but it comes out like an accusation. Wednesday crosses her arms, and despite the stoic expression, she’s finding it difficult to hold in her glee at his observation.
“Apparently I already am.”
The small-town gas station is desolate. The pumps are covered in rust and grime, and the clerk is seemingly asleep at the counter as Tyler fills the car. He’s the only one around, and still, the back of his neck prickles with anxiety. How close behind them is his father? How long did they really have to live out this fucked up fantasy? Tyler shakes his head, putting the pump back and inhaling the intoxicating scent of gasoline as he walks to the counter. He grabs a handful of sandwiches and snacks, and the clerk doesn’t stir until Tyler is right in front of him. As if he’s been transported back into the Weathervane, Tyler slips into customer mode, an easy smile sliding onto his face as he thanks the clerk, turning around to make his exit.
As the doorbell chimes, announcing his departure, Tyler’s neck prickles again. He turns slightly, and the clerk is watching him thoughtfully, eyes darting between Tyler and Wednesday, who remains in the car, eyes fixated on the map in front of her. Tyler doesn’t notice Thing closing the fuel cap and shutting the door. As the car roars back to life, Thing gives the clerk a little wave, even as the clerk blinks uneasily, unsure if it’s a dream.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, but I hope this is enough.” Tyler mumbles as he throws Wednesday a sandwich and a dark chocolate bar. Wednesday’s lip quivers in disgust as she reads the label, and Tyler wants to laugh as he witnesses her swallow her distain in real time. “It’ll suffice.”
The backroads are far too bright for Wednesday’s liking. She likes the solitude, the feeling of knowing it’s only Thing and Tyler around. She likes that there’s no bright cars playing loud music around her, and that Tyler lets her play her Monk Metal CD she stole from Uncle Fester. Yet the sun is too warm for her liking. If it was going to burn her, she wishes it would do it faster. She wishes the birds chirps sounded more like a murder of crows. She wishes it was dark already.
Wednesday has never been the type to whine, but she can’t help that she has preferences. Darkness. Death. Shadows of trees that could move like monsters if you look hard enough. No sunshine or bright grass.
While Wednesday quietly waits in for the sun to set, Tyler, admittedly foolishly, finds his thoughts being dragged back to Jericho. To his father. Telling him to come clean, asking if he’d commit those murders. He didn’t ever stop to think about whether or not he was capable of it before. Now, he knows for sure that he is. If Marilyn had unlocked him when she wanted to, he could’ve done so much worse. Even with Wednesday, a force to keep him anchored to solid ground, he can still feel the Hyde beneath the surface. Hungry and violent. He inhales sharply.
“Do you think they’re looking for us?” He asks Wednesday, who straightens from her spot on the window.
“Yes.” She replies simply. The possibility of being caught rattles Tyler more than he’d care to admit. He’s always wanted this, a life without Jericho, with nothing but an open road. Now he has it, all he can think of is how many different ways someone could take it away from him.
“What if they find us?”
Wednesday’s face remains stoic. “They won’t.”
“Wednesday…” Tyler trails off, gazing at her. “Come on, we have to think rationally here.”
“Nothing about running away with a murderer is rational.”
Tyler blinks. “Are you talking about me or you?”
Wednesday doesn’t reply. Tyler sighs, eyes gluing themselves back to the road. He has to squint a little as the sun sinks lower into the sky.
“It’s getting dark. Maybe we should check into a hotel or something.”
Wednesday frowns. “We’ll cover more ground in the dark.”
“Wednesday, we need to sleep.” Tyler presses. He can feel the bags under his eyes pressing into his skull. Wednesday hides it better, but she looks more dead than usual. She exhales softly.
“Where do you suggest?”
Tyler shrugs. “Maybe we can find a bigger town? Bigger means less questions.”
“And more security cameras.” Wednesday points out.
“Shit.”
Wednesday opens the map again, considering its contents thoughtfully. “There’s a town twenty minutes away. A hotel. We’ll only be there to sleep. We can park around the corner and hide the car in the trees.”
“Why…?”
Wednesday looks at him darkly. “Less chance of theft or of someone recognising the vehicle. Amateur.”
Wednesday walks up to the receptionist desk confidently and slaps two fifty-dollar bills on the counter before the woman even has a chance to look up. Her eyes have dark circles under them, despite the night shift barely beginning. Tyler can’t help but pity her. This town looks even more dead-end than Jericho, all boarded up houses and watering holes for truck drivers.
“We’ll take your cheapest room.” Wednesday barks.
The woman looks up tiredly, eyes scanning over Wednesday with a quizzical look. “One bed or two?”
Tyler shifts his gaze to Wednesday, twitching uncomfortably. “Two.” He says quickly.
The receptionist sighs and hands them a key, pointing upstairs. Wednesday moves in the direction of her finger without hesitation, nodding once curtly.
The room smells like mould and mildew, and the tap leaks with an inconsistency that could drive anyone mad. Wednesday adds Chinese Water Torture to her mental list of weapons against enemies. She scans around the room, lifting a trail of dust from a shelf with a single finger, examining it.
“Perfect.”
“We’re really falling into the dodgy serial killer stereotypes, you know.” Tyler remarks, collapsing onto the bed and tossing off his shoes. Wednesday opens her bag and lets Thing explore his new surroundings, then she stills, glaring at Tyler.
“Why did you ask for two beds?”
“I… I didn’t know if you wanted to share. It just seemed easier to avoid all the awkwardness.” Tyler stands up, running a hand through his hair. He regrets his blunder more every second.
Thing opens the bedside drawer, recoiling at the sight of the bible.
“It wasn’t awkward until you made it awkward.”
Thing closes the drawer slowly, remaining inside as he does so.
“I… I don’t know why I said it.” Tyler mumbles.
Wednesday takes a step closer to him. “You should be scared of me, you know.” She murmurs. Tyler looks down at her, unable to contain an uncertain kind of smirk.
“I think maybe you should be scared of me.”
Wednesday’s eyebrow twitches, lips parting slightly. “Because you’re a Hyde?”
Tyler shrugs. “Because I could kill you. I don’t know how to control it.”
“Does it scare you?” Wednesday asks, eyes raking up and down Tyler’s body.
“Yes.” He breathes.
Wednesday nods, once. “Do you want to kill me?” Her gaze burns him as she catches him in a look. He couldn’t break the eye contact if he wanted to. He feels an electric hum throughout his body, as if his heart is everywhere at once.
“Sometimes.” He mutters, truthfully. He isn’t sure which way he means it. She’s infuriating and intriguing and he wants to crush her. He wants to burn with her. He isn’t sure this is something as simple and holy as all the other teenagers seem to make it out to be.
“How would you do it?” Wednesday asks him, voice low.
“What?” Tyler asks, breath catching, even as he remains still, eyes still locked with hers.
“How would you kill me?” She repeats, simply, as if it’s a normal question anyone would ask. Even as he contemplates it, he knows Wednesday has thought about this a million times.
“Wednesday…” He tries, knowing he’s treading down a slippery slope. Despite knowing how it feels to fall, he isn’t sure if this is the kind of cliff edge people like him usually find themselves on.
“I’d slit your throat.” Wednesday offers, confirming Tyler’s thoughts. She’s considered every word carefully. He pauses, contemplating how he would kill her, truthfully.
“I’d devour you.” He growls lowly. If he didn’t know Wednesday so well, he could’ve sworn he’d seen her shiver. “It would be slow.”
“It seems I’m in awful company.”
“You’re damn right.”
Wednesday pulls him down into a ravenous kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, and something deep and sinister within Tyler can’t help but think I’ll devour you right now.
They don’t use both beds. Tyler lies next to Wednesday, sleeping like a corpse, arms crossed over her chest, and the only sign of life is the small puffs of air that escape her lips every few seconds. Thing appears to be curled into the pillow on the remaining bed, relieved that his human counterparts are finally asleep. With a smirk across his lips, Tyler rolls closer to Wednesday, inhaling her thick scent as sleep pulls him under. Their lives might be a mess, but it doesn’t seem so bad right now.
Wednesday stands over the body of Laurel Gates, face smashed in, body bruised and bloody. She should’ve done more. She should’ve let her bleed for longer. As she watches over the corpse, something twitches. Laurel’s eyes open, arm outstretched, pinning Wednesday by the throat.
Tyler gets into the car. He’s done it so many times before. This time, Marilyn isn’t Marilyn. She’s the hybrid, drooling and snarling from the driver’s seat of the car. Tyler isn’t Tyler anymore, either. His fingers grow into claws. His body elongates. He’s the Hyde. And he’s at the mercy of his master. The car is in pieces. Wednesday stands on the corner, in front of the Weathervane, face blank. The Marilyn Monster looks at Wednesday, and then Tyler. Her order is clear.
Kill her.
Tyler’s body bolts upright as he heaves shakily, searching desperately for a way to breathe as he clutches at the sheets. His body begins to ripple with the familiar feeling of cracking knuckles, bones sharpening beneath his skin. A deep growl escapes his throat, guttural and feral.
Wednesday stirs next to him, sitting up in a similar fashion. She still looks so quintessentially Wednesday, despite her hair is more disheveled than usual, and her freckles seem to stand out more from her pale skin, eyes a little less alert and piercing. The sight of her alone is enough to get Tyler to exhale normally, feeling his bones snap back into a normal position.
“What happened?” Wednesday asks.
“Just a dream.” Tyler sighs.
“Of?”
“Mar…Laurel.” He replies, catching himself. Wednesday nods.
“Me too.”
“She… I don’t know.” Tyler rubs his temple, still groggy.
“I know.”
Tyler lets out a groan. “I can feel myself changing. And what does this mean for me? Being a Hyde, I mean. I just… Aren’t monsters like me supposed to be completely at the mercy of their masters? I… I want to kill something, all the time. I have since it happened. Are there two parts of me now?”
Wednesday is silent for a moment. When she replies, she says, “Laurel was supposed to be your master, right?”
“Yeah. But she’s dead.”
“Maybe you need to find another master.”
“It should be you.” Tyler responds without thinking. Wednesday shoots him a quizzical look, so he attempts to elaborate. “Think about it, Wednesday. You know me better than anyone else. I wouldn’t know this about myself without you. Just… think about it.”
Wednesday exhales, settling back into her sleeping position. “We should get a burner phone.”
Tyler settles back down into bed beside her. “Okay.”
The burner phone is twenty dollars from a convenience store. It’s a Nokia, and Tyler can’t help but mentally compare it to a brick, despite Wednesday’s immediate ease at the lack of a touch screen.
“So, who is it you’re planning to call? Uncle Fester?” Tyler asks, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leans against the car, Wednesday across from him. He immediately feels distrustful of every passer-by, wondering if they’ve seen anything on the news as they scan Wednesday up and down. Wednesday is so used to it that she’s hardly acknowledging it. She looks up at him, gesturing for Tyler to get his phone out.
“That would be unwise. He’s also a fugitive.” She replies as Tyler turns on his phone. He glances uneasily at it as it lights up, coming back to life.
“He might know how to do it better than us.” He suggests.
“Uncle Fester isn’t the sort of person you can call.” Wednesday comments shortly. She glances at Tyler’s phone, and despite not knowing why she wants it, he unlocks it for her.
“So… who is?”
Wednesday takes Tyler’s phone from his hands, scrolling through his contacts with a bewildered look. At the very least, she’s grateful technology remains able to alphabetize.
“Enid.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. “Won’t we be putting her in danger?”
Wednesday exhales. “If I don’t tell her we’re safe, she’s going to try and find us. Which is far worse.”
A small chuckle escapes Tyler’s lips. “I can’t help but think you’re right about that.”
“I am.”
The phone line rings four times, and Wednesday considers hanging up as she waits and listens to every treacherous ring. She is almost definitely putting Enid in danger. She knows it. Yet, the alternative of Enid attempting to track them cross-country seems infinitely more dangerous than a two-minute phone call.
At last, Enid picks up, voice low.
“Who is this?”
Wednesday resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you need to ask?”
Enid lets out a hushed squeal. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been totally freaking out worried about you. You’ve made the national news.” She breathes, gushing both in excitement and fear. She’d been watching the news religiously, much to her brother’s dismay.
Wednesday narrows her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to be a fugitive. Are you back home?”
Enid sighs down the line. “They won’t let us go anywhere while the investigation is pending. Which is freaking us all out even more. Tyler’s dad has already left for a search.”
Tyler watches Wednesday on the phone intently, and her eyes dart to him as Enid informs her of the sheriff’s movements. Tyler catches on quickly, feeling the fiery panic ignite in this throat. Wednesday turns away from him slightly.
“Do you know where they were looking?” She asks.
“It didn’t say. Where are you guys? How’s Thing?” Enid asks, voice quavering with anxiety. Wednesday can practically hear it vibrating off the phone. She swallows, choosing her next words carefully.
“Thing misses you. But our location is on a need-to-know basis, Enid. We’re okay.”
Enid sighs in disappointment, inhaling deeply, as if attempting to calm herself. “Okay. If you say so. This is scary stuff, Wednesday.”
“Oh, please. This is a picnic.” Wednesday retorts, lip curling up into the whisper of a smirk.
“Be safe.” Enid whispers.
The end tone deafly protrudes into Wednesday’s ears, signaling the absence of Enid once again.
Tyler looks at her expectantly as she walks to the bin and promptly tosses the phone into it, breath hitching as she reaches him.
“What now?” He asks.
Wednesday speaks slowly, considering her plan with every word. “Your father is looking for us. We need to know how close behind they are.”
Tyler opens his mouth, panic rising like bile in his chest. What…” He swallows. “What happens if they do find us? I mean… What if I… transform in front of people or something? What happens to me if they find me?”
“Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I’m here.” Even as she says it, Wednesday feels as if it’s too intimate of a thing to say while looking directly at him. Something her father would say to her mother. She instead watches the street in front of her.
“What happens to you if we’re caught?” Tyler asks lowly. To him, the answer to this is worse than anything that could happen to him. Wednesday finally turns back to him, eyes narrowed.
“Do you really think so lowly of me that you assume I’m incapable of escaping from prison?”
Tyler smirks. “I could never think lowly of you.”
Wednesday lifts her chin slightly. “No one should.”
They’ve barely made it into West Virginia when Tyler risks turning the radio on, checking for updates. His blood runs cold when he hears the news report.
“And the search for two teenagers continues after a massacre at the Nevermore School for Outcasts. Wednesday Addams and Tyler Galpin were questioned at the scene, following the death of two teachers and five students. This follows after attacks on students in Nevermore had been occurring over the past few months, with the Mayor of Jericho and local therapist Dr. Valerie Kinbott included in the casualties. Addams and Galpin are the prime suspects in this ongoing investigation, and police confirm they received a tip off in Somerset, Virginia, where locals reported the two fugitives in a convenience store. If you have any information, don’t hesitate to contact the police. They are currently attempting to locate Galpin’s car, which bares the license plate DSF219.”
Following the last sentence, Tyler smashes the off button to the radio with such velocity that the entire button comes off, and a dint in the stereo remains. Even then, if Wednesday feels any panic, she doesn’t show it.
“Fuck.” Tyler whispers, hitting his fist against the edge of the steering wheel. Wednesday remains unmoving, as if her mental cogs are turning.
“We need to get rid of the car.”
“No shit.” Tyler retorts.
Wednesday hesitates for a moment before “The sun is setting; We’re heading into woodland territory. We can leave the car on this road if we hide it.”
Tyler looks at her, jerking the car to a holt as he steers it off the road and into a small gap between two trees, throwing them both against the seatbelts with the impact. Thing flies into the centre console, sticking the finger up at Tyler as he regains himself.
“How are we going to hide it?” Tyler breathes, exasperated, heart pounding.
Wednesday tumbles out of the car, gathering the few belongings she can fit in the backpack. Thing scrambles out after her, already attempting to find sticks and twigs as he does so. Wednesday looks at Tyler intensely as he follows her out of the car, shutting the door firmly.
“Snap some branches. Big ones. I know you can.” She snaps at him, picking up branches and tossing them on top of the car, her small body becoming covered by the branches she grabs.
Tyler looks at her quizzically for a moment, still trying to play catch-up. This was it, the life he wanted being snatched away again. He swallows, hard. He doesn’t have time to commiserate yet.
He stops for a second, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He thinks of Wednesday, her lips on his. He thinks of her in a jail cell, face sour, leaning against the concrete wall without blinking. He thinks of Marilyn, how she looked as she died. How she touched the back of his neck when she whispered poisonous words into his ears. He feels his bones begin to shift again.
Before Tyler can think better of it, he’s not himself. He’s driven by one mission, to snap branches off the trees and gather them on top of the car. One after another, he snaps, breaks, throws.
Wednesday steps back, watching Thing scurry to a better distance to judge the visibility of the car. He gives Wednesday a thumbs up.
Tyler is still the Hyde, drooling and wide eyed as he begins to smash the car, breaking the windows and leaving dents wherever he can. The entire world is painted black and red, until a voice breaks through so forcefully it almost blurs his vision.
“Tyler.”
Wednesday. She’s standing in front of him, unimpressed. His body snaps back into something more human-like, and he finds himself curling into a ball as he attempts to hide his vulnerability from her. Wednesday bends down beside him, a fresh pair of clothes in hand.
“Tyler.”
“What…”
“Thank you.” Wednesday says softly.
She turns around as she gathers the rest of their things from beside the car, Thing resting peacefully on her shoulder. When she hears the fly of Tyler’s jeans zip up, she turns around.
“We need to go. The further we head into the forest, the harder it will be for anyone to find us.”
Tyler looks at her, still visibly shaken. “Are we not going to talk about what just happened?”
“We need to move now.” Wednesday replies bluntly. Tyler shakes his head, attempting to rid himself of the dizziness as he follows Wednesday into the forest. Even now, he’s following her anywhere.
The stars are splattered in the sky against the canopy of trees where they make camp for the night. Despite the chill, Wednesday warned Tyler adamantly against a large fire, so they sit quietly with a hearth no bigger than a large candle, watching it flicker and wane against the backdrop of the forest. Thing is settled on a jacket Wednesday has laid out for him, twitching with drowsiness.
“Are we going to talk about it now?” Tyler asks, lowering himself onto the makeshift bed of old t shirts, using his backpack as a pillow. He hits his head against the backpack softly, attempting to force it to comply and be comfortable.
Wednesday still sits with her knees to her chest, watching the flame intensely. “If you must.”
Tyler adjusts his head again, searching for the words. Resigned, he sits up again, looking at Wednesday and the flame that separates them. “What happened? Are you my master now? That’s never happened before. I mean… you told me to do something and I just… did it. It’s almost as if I blacked out or something. The only memory I have is that you told me to do something, and I did it.”
“All that proves is that you’re a pitiful teenage boy willing to do anything I ask.”
“Wednesday,”
Wednesday ruefully rests her chin on her knee, searching for words carefully.
“I resent my lack of autonomy in the current situation.” She says simply.
Tyler snorts. “You and me both.”
“How do you know I won’t abuse my power to make you do the most heinous deeds imaginable?” Wednesday asks sharply, dark eyes piercing into Tyler. Even with his entire being at stake, he can’t help but let his mouth twitch into a smirk.
“I know that you will.”
Wednesday says nothing, eyes darting back to the flame. She still finds herself mortified by the amount of power Tyler wields over her, knowing she could never leave him behind no matter how bad things got. Despite the idea of power exciting her, she can’t help but think it isn’t deserved in this instance. Even when he can’t ever belong to anyone else but her.
Tyler can feel something primal in his gut clawing its way to the surface as it turns over waiting for a reply. Instead of waiting, he instead says something even more mortifying: something vulnerable.
“Wednesday, I’ve been at your mercy for a while now. This is kinda just… tangible proof of it.”
Wednesday’s eyes dart back towards him, smirking darkly. “You really are pathetic.”
Tyler inches closer to her. “Is that so?”
Wednesday’s face is mere inches from his. “No shadow of a doubt.”
“I just need you to promise me something.” Tyler whispers. Wednesday draws back slightly, attempting to interpret the meaning in his eyes.
“What?”
“I…” Tyler falters. “Whether I wanted it or not, you have all of me now. Don’t… don’t waste it.”
Wednesday blinks. “I’m ruthless, not wasteful.”
It’s when she says this that something inside Tyler snaps. The primal urge to devour her is at the forefront of his mind as they’re pulled into each other’s gravity, lips against lips, teeth against teeth. Wednesday pulls herself on top of him, knocking over the flame and extinguishing it without noticing. This is blood and bones, feral. This is the need to carve a home in someone else’s heart, to create a chemical reaction that repels everyone but the two of them. Thing hides under the blanket. Neither Tyler nor Wednesday notice.
Sunlight creeps through the gaps of the trees, piercing through the icy chill of the wind when Tyler and Wednesday stir the next morning, wrapping around each other like vines. Thing’s fingertips tap incessantly on Wednesday’s cheeks, before he scurries over her body to flick Tyler hard on the nose. He groans in annoyance, but before he can flick Thing back like he plans, he hears the voices that have Thing so panicked.
Wednesday bolts upright, the sirens in the distance and the sound of car tyres on dirt sounding clearer than they had in her drowsy state.
“Shit. The car.” He mumbles. Wednesday is already standing, gathering their belongings and tossing them into her backpack. Thing crawls inside it obediently. She grabs Tyler’s bag out from under him and passes it to him impatiently.
“We have to move.”
Tyler scrambles to his feet, already running after Wednesday before he’s even sure of his footing. The terrain is nothing like the forests surrounding Jericho. Even with tiniest glimmer of sunlight, the dew refracts light off the trees in such a way that the entire forest is nothing but the brightest green.
“Do you think they have dogs with them?” Tyler gasps, finally catching up to Wednesday. Without warning, she comes to a halt, causing Tyler’s heels to skid in the dirt.
“Do you hear that?” She asks, cocking her head slightly.
Tyler focuses himself, and the Hyde’s senses kick themselves into gear. The familiar trickling of a river echoes off the rocks, just east of them. “Water.”
“Let’s go.” Wednesday mutters, already running again. Tyler can’t help but think his coffee beans would be helpful for getting people off their track around now.
The rocks crunch inessentially underneath their feet when they reach the riverbank, and before Tyler has a chance to consider the uncomfortable feeling of his wet socks, he’s plunging into the river behind Wednesday, who’s moving in a diagonal direction to keep herself from getting swept up in the current. Despite the circumstances, Tyler takes a moment to marvel how someone so small has the strength to fight against an entire current. The trees on the opposite bank are thicker than those they just escaped from, and Wednesday is already hopeful they can lose the inexperienced cops in the thickness of the woods. Uncle Fester teaching her and her brother about survival in the wilderness had been one of her favourite lessons.
They don’t stop running until they hit a clearing, where the jagged rocks are elevated enough to give a view of their surrounding area.
Tyler is gasping for breath when he stops beside Wednesday on the rocks.
“That would’ve been so much easier if I was the other me.” He pants. Wednesday glances at him thoughtfully.
“True.”
“Sorry I don’t have your stamina.”
Wednesday’s eyes glint darkly. “If only you knew.”
Tyler scoffs, still attempting to catch his breath. “Not the time.”
Wednesday narrows her eyes, scanning the tops of the trees, inhaling deeply. “If we keep moving east, we’ll find ourselves heading back towards Virginia.”
Tyler looks over at her, still amazed. He always tells her this but thinks better of it. “Is that better than where we are?”
Wednesday turns to him sharply. “I know the way around the wilderness better than a cop would.”
“We can’t stay in here forever.”
“I know, Tyler, just-”
Before Wednesday can get another word in, the pair are met with another sharp, unwelcome greeting. “Hey!”
“Fuck.” Tyler mutters.
A young man, clad in hiking gear and far better dressed for the climate than Tyler or Wednesday, is walking towards them apprehensively. “You’re not the two kids on the news, are you?”
“No, we’re the other strange children wandering the wilderness.” Wednesday deadpans. Tyler looks at her.
“Helpful.” He mutters.
The man gasps for breath, squinting at them as he takes another step closer. Wednesday remains motionless. “The cops are here, you know. They were about 3 miles away last time I saw them.”
“So, what, are you going to turn us in?” Tyler asks, half in fear, half in anger. The bubbling of violence surfaces in his throat again. Something is clawing its way out of him already.
“Well… you’re just kids. Do you really think you’re going to make it out alive in a place like this.”
“What’s the reward money for finding us?” Wednesday sneers.
The hiker laughs shortly. “It’s enough. Look, I know you want to run forever, but it’s not going to work. Just come with me and explain it to the cops.”
“If you think some small-town cop is going to treat outcasts fairly, you’re naïve.” Wednesday replies lowly.
“Little girl, people like you are better off in jail cells. This is just further proof. Come on-”
The hiker does not get a chance to finish his sentence before those words become his last. Tyler has shifted into the Hyde, tearing into the hiker’s flesh without memory or remorse. The skin peels and blood stains the rocks below them. Wednesday watches, all parts horrified, enthused, and relieved.
When Tyler regains consciousness, Wednesday is once again crouched by his side with clothes in hand, eyes raking over the splatters of blood across his body. His jagged cut from Laurel’s blade has reopened from the ferocity of his attack, causing tiny droplets of blood to form around the scabs.
“I’m gonna run out of shirts soon,” He mumbles.
“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Wednesday says coldly.
Tyler’s eyes pour into hers earnestly. “He threatened you.”
As Tyler reaches his feet, Wednesday looks at him, her expression unreadable s she gives him a minuscule nod. Tyler wonders if this is the moment that Wednesday realises this is too much, that unreasonable murder is where the line is drawn. She reaches up to cup his cheek, pressing her lips delicately against his. It’s the most intimate, soft moment the two of them have ever shared, and when Wednesday pulls away, she’s also covered in blood.
“Come on, we can’t stop.”
Wednesday begins walking, but Tyler remains still, the blood from the hiker still covering his hands and face. This may be his second kill, but something in the pit of his stomach tells him it’s not going to be his last. Wednesday might be his master, but there was so much they still didn’t know. What was to stop him from turning on her? Or from getting her killed in this game of cat and mouse they were playing? Tyler had always wanted to be reckless with his own life, but he wasn’t sure he could risk being reckless with Wednesday’s.
“Wednesday, hold on.” He says, causing her to stop, wheeling around on her heels.
“I just killed someone. The cops are only miles behind us. Maybe it’s time to-”
“No.”
“Wednesday. You know this sort of terrain better than I do. If I turn around, if I go to the cops, you have time to be miles ahead of them. I can tell them we split up, that you’re innocent-”
“Tyler, stop. You’re not turning yourself in. Especially with such a flimsy lie.”
Tyler exhales forcefully. “Then, what now?”
Wednesday opens her mouth to reply, but the whistling and the sound of a dog barking force her to change tactics. “Keep moving.”
Tyler has no idea how they manage to make it out of the woods and back onto some washed up dirt road.
“I thought we were staying in the woods,” He blinks, turning to Wednesday as she lingers on the tree line, observing the road before them carefully.
“You’re injured.” Wednesday replies shortly. “We need something to stop that from getting infected.”
Tyler smirks. “How do you know I don’t have healing powers or something?”
Wednesday looks at him humourlessly. “We’re outcasts, not X-Men.”
“Good point. There’s a town just there.”
“Come on.”
The town is the same as all the rest they’ve stopped in. Quiet, desolate, dank, and depressing. If the circumstances were different, Wednesday would’ve revelled in the misery. This time, she has a singular mission to focus on instead.
Tyler thinks to all those months ago, before he met Wednesday. When he was just a dull barista working after school, daydreaming about the moment he could leave Jericho and drive to somewhere foreign. He hadn’t exactly pictured it like this, all blood and escape missions, killing hikers in the woods and falling in love with the most terrifying girl on the planet. Yet, it happened anyway.
The town has one singular general store, with a rusty sign and one car parked on the street. Wednesday reaches into her pocket, counting the money thoughtfully.
“How much is left?” Tyler asks.
“Enough.” She tells him.
Tyler halts her on the edge of the road, gaze flickering cautiously.
“Maybe we should disguise ourselves or something,” he says, hand on her shoulder. Wednesday narrows her eyes.
“With what?”
“I- I don’t know. What do we have?”
Wednesday reaches into her backpack, fingers finding something soft and black.
“I have this. Enid gave it to me.” She says, pulling out the snood Enid had given her. It felt like a lifetime ago. Something melancholy scratches at her skin, and she places the snood back into the bag before she has time to dissect her emotions attached to it.
“I have a better idea. Thing.” She says, as the creature scrambles out of the bag and crawls onto her shoulder, listening intently.
“Five finger discount. Bandages, antiseptic, wipes, and water if you can. Tyler and I will wait by the tree line.” Thing nods, accepting his mission gratefully. Tyler and Wednesday swiftly walk towards the trees, heads low.
Wednesday waits, body upright and still, arms crossed. The days and nights spent on the run have rendered her hair a dishevelled mess, and her braids have remained untouched since Laurel’s death. She hasn’t seen much of a point in trying to look put together. Tyler shivers slightly beside her, scanning every car that passes by with an intense anxiety, as if any one of them could be the one to turn them in. Wednesday knows this hasn’t been the smartest of plans. The alternative just seemed far worse. Be charged of murders she didn’t commit? Be separated from Tyler? No, she’d rather be forced to watch a 2004 romcom than stomach the idea of that.
“What’s taking him so long?” Tyler asks, breaking Wednesday out of the chasm of her thoughts. He checks his watch. It’s been almost forty-five minutes. If it’s not the Kalamazoo job, something must have gone wrong.
“Tyler, wait here. Stay hidden. I’m going to find Thing.” Wednesday says. Tyler nods, despite his eyes betraying the desire to go with her. Wednesday is gone before he can change her mind, pulling the snood over her head as she leaves.
When she approaches the dingy store, the eery silence is clear. She pushes open the door, silently cursing the stupid bell that rings as she does so, wishing more than anything it didn’t feel the need to announce her presence. She reaches up to the top of the door, pulling the bell from its string before crushing it under her foot. Thankfully, there’s no one at the counter to see it.
Wednesday finds Thing on the second shelf of the medical aisle, debating between two brands of bandage.
“Thing.” Wednesday murmurs warningly, and he quivers, attempting to crawl to the back of the shelf.
“Oh, fuck it. Let’s just buy the damn things.”
Thing signs to her dramatically. I wasn’t sure which would be best for the current predicament.
“Always go for hospital grade. You know this.” Wednesday hisses.
The store clerk’s beady eyes scan Wednesday up and down as she checks out the items, using cash.
“Someone must’ve had a big fall,” The clerk comments gruffly, earning a glare from Wednesday as she picks up the bag she’s given.
“No, just a run in with a girl scout. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You look familiar.” The clerk murmurs without replying.
“Funny. Usually, the only people who say that are the ones who spend a lot of time in the morgue.” Wednesday quips back, already heading for the exit.
The clerk’s eyes follow her out the door, and by the time he realises how he recognises her, she’s long gone.
The first thing that strikes Wednesday as odd is the truck parked by the side of the road. The second is that Tyler is not where Wednesday and Thing left him. Panic shoots through her veins as she notices his backpack, right where it was before. She picks it up, retreating into the woods, already running, a frenzy running through her blood. Then, she stops cold, crouching to observe one of the rocks below her. Fresh blood, in tiny droplets, remain there. As she presses her finger to it, looking at her fingertip to determine how old it is, Thing taps at her shoulder urgently. A small groan is heard from a few metres away.
“Tyler,”
Tyler is not curled into a ball like he is after most transformations, but the blood covering his body is not all his. He stares mirthlessly at the dead body before him, and while the entrails of the corpse that was once a man are no longer inside his body, the trucker hat remains on his head, despite the man’s broken neck.
“What happened?” Wednesday asks sharply.
Tyler looks up, as if only just noticing that Wednesday is there. “He was going to turn us in.”
Wednesday nods, eyes flickering over Tyler’s body, all bloodied and bruised, and passes him a pair of jeans.
“Sit down.” She orders, pushing him onto a rock. He obeys without question, his eyes flickering over her as she picks the supplies out of the bag. The wipes are the first thing, and despite her resentment of having to clean the comfortable sight of blood, she carefully begins to wipe his face, before moving down to the gaping cut on Tyler’s stomach. It’s only worsened since the attack on the hiker. As Tyler flinches beneath her touch, Wednesday attempts to ignore the skip in her heart and the burning sensation in her hand.
“This will hurt.” She tells him, tipping some antiseptic onto a cotton bud and dabbing at the affected areas. Despite Tyler’s seething breathes as he flinches under her touch, he can’t help but enjoy it. Wednesday, skin on skin, both of them bloodied in the wake of something murderous. As she stitches the wound back together with unwavering hands, Tyler can’t help thinking some unholy thoughts.
“Thanks, doc.” Tyler murmurs, still keeping his eyes on Wednesday as she finishes the stitches. She moves away from him slightly, sitting still on the rock as Tyler puts his shirt back on.
“I didn’t mean to do it, you know.” He says, as if Wednesday cares about it either way.
“I know.” She says simply. The sun is sinking lower into the sky, darkness falling over them like a cloak of invisibility, covering Tyler with a sense of relief. Wednesday, however, feels as if she’s going insane.
She’d wanted this, hadn’t she? Tyler and Wednesday, crime and mayhem as they escape the doom of being accused of crimes they didn’t commit. Blood and murder were bound to come with all of that. No, it wasn’t that part that bothered her. It was the lack of control. The fact that cops were on their tail and people were going to keep coming after them no matter what they did. It was the fact that this could all be taken away from her as quickly as she’d taken it. Tyler could end up in a prison or a hospital, experimented on. That idea was what bothered her, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“What are you thinking?” Tyler asks into the darkness.
Wednesday resented being asked that question. Her thoughts were her own. But this time, she relents.
“This isn’t sustainable.” She murmurs.
Tyler, perplexed, turns to face her, palms grazing slightly against the rock. “What do you mean?”
“We may have underestimated the danger we’re in.” Wednesday says, head turned to look at him, fringe falling into her face.
“So, what do we do?” Tyler sighs.
Wednesday considers her reply for a moment. “We’re on borrowed time. Eventually someone is going to catch us.”
Tyler turns his gaze away from her, knowing she’s going to hate what he’s about to say. “I could turn myself in.”
“No.”
He turns back to her, sighing in exasperation. “So what? We both end up fucked?”
“There’s one other option.” Wednesday murmurs, deadly quiet. Tyler blinks, intrigued.
“Which is?”
Wednesday swallows. “My parents might be able to give us some protection while we figure out a plan.”
“You want to take me to meet your parents?” Tyler asks, supressing a snort as he considers it in his head. The Addams Family. He isn’t sure if meeting Wednesday’s parents would be a relief or certain death.
“That would be an unfortunate consequence.” Wednesday replies, clearly agreeing with his thoughts. Tyler nudges her shoulder playfully.
“C’mon. Maybe it will be fun.” He smirks.
Wednesday scoots away from him, throwing him a disgusted grimace. “I don’t do fun.”
“Isn’t your idea of fun torturing or being tortured?” Tyler asks, scooting back towards her, eyes alight as he smiles playfully.
“Precisely.” Wednesday concedes.
“So, by that very definition, it will be fun.” Tyler says, knowing he’s beat her at his own game. Despite himself, he grins.
Wednesday lets out a seething growl.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. I think it might work. The increasing urges I have to maim, kill and disembowel might even subside.” He raises his hands in defeat, still smirking.
“My urges to maim and kill are about to increase.” Wednesday growls.
“They can’t be that bad.” Tyler tries.
“You have no idea.” Wednesday deadpans.
Tyler looks at her earnestly. Even in the dark, her eyes piece into his like black diamonds. Hesitantly, Wednesday rests her head on his shoulder, settling into the crook of his neck. She may have to swallow her pride and go home, but what terrifies her more is the idea of Tyler seeing her home. It feels as if she’s cutting herself open and allowing him to see inside. Then, when Tyler says his next words, Wednesday lets herself believe that it might not be so bad.
“You know I’d follow you anywhere.”