Work Text:
Tap, tap, tap.
Wednesday was at her typewriter, her speed picking up with a sudden hit of inspiration. Viper’s latest adventure was coming to an end. For weeks, she was plagued with writer’s block that wouldn’t leave her, unable to form a satisfying way to tie everything up.
Lost in her own little world, she almost didn’t hear Tyler come into their bedroom, plopping down on the bed with a gusty sigh. “Your son is trying to kill me.”
“Oh? Is he finally putting that steak knife Pugsley gave him to good use?” Wednesday said absentmindedly.
“I thought you took that away from him?” Tyler craned his neck to look at her. For some reason, he’d been rather alarmed by the gift. Wednesday didn’t understand; when she was six years old, she’d received her first set of dynamite caps.
“No, why would I?”
"Because-” her husband started to say, ultimately deciding that this line of conversation wasn’t worth pursuing. “Never mind. But as I was saying, I don’t know what sick enjoyment he gets from it but I swear I’m going to have a heart attack one of these days.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “What instances are you even referring to?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Tyler gave her a look. “Remember the other night?”
It was one of those nights where he just couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, Tyler was drowsy from being awake for nearly twenty-four hours, but it wasn’t enough for him to do much more than that. Beside him, Wednesday was sound asleep in her usual vampiric way.
His throat dry, he swung his legs over, sliding out of bed with the intention of getting a glass of water. It was either that or continue to stare at the ceiling. On the way down, he passed by Dean’s room. His son was all curled up, face buried in his pillow with his arm around his favorite stuffed bat.
Tyler smiled softly and went on his way.
He didn’t bother turning on the light. No need to accidentally wake anybody up. Yawning, he turned on the faucet. This insomnia crap was getting old real fast. Just as he was going to go sit at the table, his heart nearly gave out when he spotted a shadowy figure looming in the darkness off to the side of him.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Tyler breathed out deeply, a hand on his chest. “Dean, what have I told you about doing that?”
“I dunno, I forgot,” his son swayed back and forth. Tyler rolled his eyes.
“I thought you were asleep?”
“I was pretending,” Dean informed him.
“Ah.”
His son eyed the glass in his hand. “Can I have some water too?”
“Only a little,” Tyler instructed.
“That was your own fault for not turning on the light,” Wednesday said with no sympathy for him.
“What about Christmas?” Tyler said.
“What about it?”
“Your brother was conspiring with him, that’s what.”
It was quiet, far too quiet. Dean went to find Pugsley as soon as they arrived and hadn’t been seen since. Tyler couldn’t help but feel apprehensive every time they visited. It was nothing against his in-laws. He just felt a bit uncomfortable with his young son being around so many dangerous traps and artifacts that were scattered throughout the place. He knew his wife and brother-in-law grew up there just fine, but this was his little boy. It was different.
Wednesday was petting Kitty whilst listening to Uncle Fester’s riveting story of his time in the Tasmanian Rainforest. She’d seen him glance at the corner of the room where the door was. “Tyler, stop it,” she scolded him. “He is perfectly fine. Pugsley is watching over him.”
That was not at all comforting. He knew Pugsley would never deliberately harm Dean....it was just...he had a tendency to play games with Dean that weren’t exactly age appropriate. “I’m going to go check on him,” he told her.
“For Lucifer’s sake...” She muttered.
Tyler knew they hadn’t gone outside. Wednesday had told him not to until after dinner--that was when the temperature would dip below zero which was primal for the chances of getting hypothermia.
Sometimes he wondered what went on in his wife’s mind, but he knew he was better off not knowing.
He stopped in the middle of the hallway when he heard a noise coming from one of the rooms. Good, at least they weren't far. “Hey, I just wanted to check on you guys-” The door opened but they weren’t there.
Tyler would later deny the shriek that left him when Pugsley and Dean appeared on either side of him.
“It worked, Uncle Pugsley!” Dean said excitedly. “It worked!”
Tyler glared darkly at his brother-in-law who howled with laughter at his expense.
Wednesday’s lips curled into a smile. “You should know not to underestimate my brother.”
Tyler ignored her. “And last night.”
Tyler checked the water to see if it was boiling. Not quit yet. On the other spot on the stove, the meat sizzled and another pot was filled with sauce. Wednesday had a rough day after the body they were investigating was removed from the crime scene--unauthorized by anyone from their department. It was a huge hassle. Evidence was compromised. People were yelled at for allowing this to happen and his wife had a huge headache when she came home.
Usually, he’d be at the shop for a few more hours but he’d taken off early. She’d called him earlier to tell him he’d have to fetch Dean from school which then turned into an angry rant. Tyler made a mental note to prepare a relaxing evening for her so she could unwind.
Right now, Wednesday was working on her novel. Tyler had told her to, that he’d take care of everything tonight.
He didn’t see or hear his son approach him from behind, reaching up to tap him on the arm.
“Geeze!”
Whirling around, he slumped down in relief at seeing Dean standing there with an innocent smile. “What’s for dinner, Daddy?”
“Why don’t you try to scare your mother like this?” Tyler said with fond exasperation.
“Mama doesn’t get scared. Mama’s not scared of anything,” Dean declared. Then his face contorted into an impish grin. “Uncle Pugsley said Kitty Kat’s braver than you and Mama agreed.”
“Come here,” Tyler demanded playfully. Dean burst into giggles when he was picked up and turned upside, wiggling to try and escape.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were behind all this,” Tyler said suspiciously.
“Or perhaps this is all on you ,” Wednesday said without looking away from her typewriter. “You told him how we met, did you not?”
She had him there.
“And all those times I managed to startle you.”
“Well, yes ,” he said lamely.
“He’s clearly mimicking behavior. I am sure it will pass,” she said nonchalantly.
“Not soon enough,” he muttered. “You might find yourself a widow one of these days.”
“It’s been on my bucket list since I was eight. I’ve been meaning to get it crossed off.”
Tyler got up from the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m getting a drink. You want anything?”
“No,” Wednesday said. He bent down to kiss her temple. She was on the final touches of the last couple of paragraphs. She would not let herself be distracted.
Minutes later, she heard the distant noise of glass shattering and her husband yelling, “Really?”
Then her son rushed into the room, giggling.
“Mama, I did it! I scared Daddy!”
“Shh,” Wednesday put a finger to her lips. “We don’t want him to hear you, do we?”
Her son shook his head.
She grabbed her wallet, pulling out a five dollar bill. “You’ve done well, Dean. I’m proud of you.”
Dean beamed, showing the gap in the front of his teeth. “Mama, Daddy said his heart's gonna stop ‘cause of me. Is that true?”
“No, dear,” Wednesday said. “Your father is being dramatic. Now take this and put it away, alright?”
“Okay!” Dean skipped away, leaving Wednesday to face her desk again with a small smirk of satisfaction.