Chapter Text
The end of the line
With all her belongings neatly packed away, Wednesday can sit back and count down the minutes until her parents arrive to take her home from Nevermore for the last time. As much as she has come to get used to the old school there is not much she will remember fondly. The wounds she suffered at the hands of Joseph Crackstone still ache occasionally. Her time at school has been marked by scars and injuries as befitting an Addams.
The next potential milestone in this road map of pain and hurt is on the other side of their room attempting to pack in the most disorganized way possible. She watched Enid closely for a few minutes and the chaos had amused her but not enough to take away the dread of leaving Nevermore and leaving Enid. The heartbreak she will feel is going to be of record-breaking proportions.
She sits on her bed swinging her feet in time to Enid’s pacing. Enid is. to her amusement, in a bit of a panic as she scrambles to do her packing. Items are being tossed towards the nearest available bag or case without any rhyme or reason. Wednesday was mildly horrified when Enid pulled out her makeup drawer and poured its contents into a large bag, the bottles and tubes crashing loudly together. She was sure from the smell that there had been some breakages.
Slowly the colorful array that is Enid’s side of the room is being dismantled. Enid stands still to survey her efforts and to Wednesday’s surprise seems to be satisfied with the progress she has made. Wednesday notes that Enid is wearing a variant of her favorite outfit, rainbow hued dungarees over a plain t-shirt. Today’s shirt is white, its short sleeves show of her muscled arms as she works. Wednesday feels a pang of sadness as this morning could have been the last time she wakes up in the embrace of those arms.
Wednesday watches as Enid slowly and carefully removes the posters from her walls and rolls each one up neatly and binds it with a piece of tape. It is like watching an archaeologist in action. As each poster is removed a layer of older posters is revealed, each of a boy band whose popularity flared like a supernova only to fade away to obscurity a few moments later. Enid turns to put the latest poster in a long plastic box, she looks up and gives Wednesday a sad smile.
Wednesday had offered to help but Enid had said no, it was her half of the room and she would deal with it. Her own belongings had already been neatly packed into her trunk, her clothes neatly folded, her shoes slotted into their compartments. Everything she had amassed during the year at Nevermore was now in her trunk, only her typewriter and cello were left, and they were in their own cases with the typewriter sitting on her desk. She had donated a few books she did not want to keep to the Nightshades library, to raise the tone of the more recent collection.
Wednesday sits on her bed watching Enid go through the final parts of the end of year ritual that will see them pulled apart as their final school year ends. She would prefer for the school year to continue simply to allow her to be near Enid, but she is almost reconciled to this not happening. She sighs as she watches Enid on what could be their last day together.
Enid has the bulk of her possessions already packed away in a range of cases and bags yet to be closed. Almost everything that made that half of the room Enid’s has been tidied away. Her clothes, her perfumes, her nail polishes (all of them!), all her stuffed toys, all packed away and out of sight diminishing her side of the room.
Enid still has her laptop open, and it is currently streaming lively music that seems to fill the room. The lyrics are in Mandarin, but this does not bother Enid, she is happy so long as the music is sufficiently lively. Mozart would do just as well but Wednesday has never been able to get Enid to experiment that much.
The change in music draws Wednesday’s attention back to the laptop. She does not like the device, she realizes that is an irrational feeling, the machine does not care how she feels about it, it is only a machine. What she really did not like was Enid’s relationship with it, her constant need to have it turned on, to interact with it.
She did not want to admit even to herself that she was jealous of the laptop. She did not want to be reduced to one of Enid’s followers trapped forever in the machine waiting for Enid’s next announcement. She wanted more than that, to be more than a single passing comment line among the scrolling comments. She wanted Enid.
She had to keep her jealousy of the device under control, Enid would not forgive her If she destroyed it. So, she would have to wean Enid off the device and onto better things, more real things.
Wednesday switches her attention away from her electronic nemesis when she realizes that Enid has stopped moving and is leaning on her box of posters.
“Wends are you OK? You’ve been quiet even for you and you look sad.” she asks.
Wednesday looks around the room before answering. “Yes, I’m well, I am just contemplating the eternal blackness of my parents embrace, have you finished?”
Enid sniggers at Wednesday’s exaggeration. “Nearly, I just feel like a quick break. It’s amazing how much stuff you amass.”
“Well how much ‘you’ amass. I do not have much more than I started with.” Wednesday counters looking at her trunk.
“Well, you are special Wednesday Addams, us mere mortals accumulate stuff.”
Wednesday flinches as Enid approaches the laptop, she taps some keys and moves her finger over the touch pad. The music starts up again, a small smile flickers across Wednesday’s lips as she recognizes her own cello playing. ‘White Rabbit’ one of her favorite modern pieces, Enid must have recorded it while she practiced.
Enid skips around the room in time to the music, from side to side until she ends up under the huge circular window and sits on what used to be Wednesday side of the sill. Enid pats the windowsill next to her and smiles as Wednesday stiffly walks up and sits next to her as the music reaches its crescendo.
Enid picks up Wednesday’s delicate hand and wraps it in her own. “I’m going to miss you, Wends. I’m going to miss sharing a room with you, mostly I will miss you.”
Wednesday’s sense of impending dread has receded as she sits next to Enid but she can feel it returning. “I will miss you too, it doesn’t have to end, Enid.”
“It will, we are going to different sides of the country we’ll be thousands of miles apart. It’s not fair, just as we were getting comfortable with each other this has to happen.”
“Enid, we always knew that the school year would come to an end, that we would graduate. That we would move on.”
“Yes, I know it is the end of school, but it shouldn’t mean the end of us. I don’t want us to move on.” Enid protests.
“It won’t, we won’t. We can stay in contact; we have our phones.”
“It won’t be the same Wednesday. I won’t be able to see you, touch you, kiss you, love you.” Wednesday leans her head against Enid’s shoulder and reaches up to wipe away Enid’s tears. “I will miss all those things as well. Despite the distance you will still be my girlfriend.”
Enid perks up “I think that is the first time you have actually said that, that I’m your girlfriend.”
“I thought actions speak louder than words.”
“They do, but it is nice to hear the words sometimes, girlfriend.” Enid wraps her arm around Wednesday holding tightly onto her.