Work Text:
It was a perfectly beautiful day that Monday, wonderfully cloudy, comfortably chilly, delightfully dreary. Morticia was out gathering clippings of the most verdant poison ivy from their fence when she stumbled across a most peculiar man in their yard. He was quite clearly dead, even through the red leather of his full-bodied suit, several patches of becomingly scarred skin visible through tears in the fabric across his abdomen. There was a fascinating collection of weapons scattered about in various holsters, sheaths, pockets, and pouches, all of which were clearly well loved and well taken care of. There were also black pieces of reinforced material at various places across his body, including textured gloves she expected had made using the stunning katanas on his back a fair bit easier.
It was truly a shame someone with such an appreciation for the finer things with such a wonderful appearance was gone so soon, she’d thought to herself as she went to ring for Lurch.
The gasping, stuttering breath was somewhat of a shock, but not at all unwelcome. His chest heaved, wet sounding air that must’ve been whatever it was that had killed him being cleared by whatever had brought him back. Some of Grandmama’s medicines were in order if he was to stay alive, then.
“Shit biscuits, can’t you give a guy a break? Like five minutes after I regenerate, that’s all I’m asking for.” The man’s voice was a divine graveled growl, though not nearly so wonderful as Gomez’s voice of course, and his lovely mask was so expressive, the cheerful black patches around the eyes narrowing as though they were his eyelids.
“Well, I’d thought you might need some help, but if you’re certain you’re not going to pass,” Morticia said quietly; coming back from the grave was always a bit difficult on the senses after all.
Those black patches blinked up at her slowly accompanied by the sort of delightful tightening of the muscles that accompanied a pouncing leopard. For quite a while, he didn’t say anything except for airy mutters under his breath that were near inaudible. Oh, well that had been quite rude of her!
“I’m terribly sorry, I hadn’t meant to interrupt a private conversation, Mr…”
He twitched before he got to his feet with all the grace of a peculiarly colorful raven. “Pool, Dead, but you can call me Wade, Elvira.”
“Morticia, I do apologize again, Wade, I hadn’t realized-”
“Ah, don’t worry about it, Morticia, I get to talk to those idiots all the time. Sorry about the mess on your lawn, I’ll just get out of your hair now. Besides, I need to catch up with that numbskull before he skips town, teach him a lesson, introduce him to the ladies, you know.” He waved a hand at his katanas with a scintillatingly sinister narrowing of his eyes, voice near the growl of that leopard.
“Nonsense, the least I can do to repay your fertilizing of our plants is replenish the fluids you lost. Please do come inside for a drink at least. Besides, that suit needs repairing I think.”
Wade must’ve been quite unused to proper hospitality for the lack of response, nothing save a widening of the dreary white eye lenses before he demurred. “Ah, you don’t have to worry about me. Watering the plants with my blood is kind of my thing, no payment needed. And if you know me, I almost never say that. Call it a favor for letting me rest up on your lawn without calling the fuzz, eh?”
“It’s truly no trouble at all. We’d be simply delighted to host someone with an appreciation for weaponry of your calibre. If you’re too busy currently, we’d understand, of course, but I do think a bit of food after a walk in Hades’ realm is of a benefit. Good for the spirit.” Why a corpse was call for summoning the local officers was beyond Morticia, but then, people could be so strange with the dead sometimes.
Wade cocked his head at her, muttering to his voices again; she did her best not to eavesdrop again, it wouldn’t do to be so rude twice in the course of a single conversation. The scars she could see through his suit seemed to shift in front of her eyes, changing like Cousin Leif’s except with more texture. As lovely as his mask was, it was a shame it hid what had to be quite the natural beauty if the rest of his body was the same.
For some strange reason, when he noticed her eyeline, he cringed, the wave of it traversing his whole body from head to toe. “Yeah, sorry about the horror show, Morticia, it doesn’t get much better, and you seem like too nice of people to put through that level of trauma, you know? Really, no worries. This ain’t my first rodeo on Chiron’s old boat, won’t be my last.”
Oh, he was shy, the poor dear.
“All the more reason to support yourself properly when such a journey takes place, then, don’t you think? You needn’t be shy about your appearance, dear, you’re quite lovely, most aren’t so lucky to have such wonderful skin. Why, Cousin Leif would be quite envious of you I’d expect.”
He stuttered, seeming to stick on her garden shears before he laughed lowly, shaking his head either to himself or to his companions in his head before he looked up to meet her eyes again. “Alright, fuck it, let’s see how this plays out then, Elvira.”
“Marvelous, however, I do have to ask that you reign in your tongue around Pugsley and Wednesday. We try to avoid swears unless they’re particularly appropriate, you understand.” With that, Morticia turned to lead the way to the house, considering which tea would be most appropriate for a revival, particularly if it was a continual experience.
“Oh, I’ve got you, kids are like fly paper, pick up everything.”
Didn’t they just; it seemed like only yesterday little Wednesday hadn’t the slightest idea how to care for tarantulas properly.
///
“Well.” Wade rested a scarred hand on Kitty’s mane, big cat wedged between the table and the kitchen counter. “If you want to be specific about it, I don’t actually know, memory’s a little spotty after everything.”
“Yes, getting stabbed in the head would make recalling things difficult I’d expect,” Morticia said as she spread a bit more of Grandmama’s mixed nightshade preserves on her scone. “I do seem to remember a cousin of mine being familiar with the Howlett family, but that was a long while ago.”
“Wolvie might remember if you ask him, but his brain’s even holier than mine.”
He snickered at his own pun, absentmindedly petting Kitty in a much more relaxed manner than most people who weren’t Addams. In point of fact, Morticia was quite impressed at Wade’s approach, complementary without being overly awed the way most were when they came into her family’s home. He also had the most delightfully dark sense of humor, though that seemed appropriate given his particular gift. It had been quite a while since she’d come across anyone with a gift similar to her love’s family’s raft of genetic quirks, even if she suspected Wade had not come by such a thing naturally as the rest of the Frump clan, Gomez, Pugsley, Wednesday, and Morticia herself had.
“If I recall correctly, Logan is working with those X-Men in Westchester now. It seems an odd placement, but he has always been so wonderful with children. He has such a gift for showing them the intricacies of the world as they are.”
“He’s always been a softy for kids, all big, tough guard to keep the littles safe. Couldn’t ask for a better bodyguard. Except for maybe me, but I’m a bit too much crazy to be reliable.” That was accompanied by a long gulp of tea that made his cheeks bulge like those of a chipmunk before he loudly swallowed it down to cover for slipping Kitty a slice of bacon.
The call bell rang upstairs and to Morticia’s satisfaction, Wade didn’t so much as startle beyond reflexively searching for Lurch behind him. His unexpected connection to the Howlett family was only one interesting coincidence, however. More and more, she had the feeling that the forces of luck had been quite present when he’d died on their property where he had. Strange, the way things happened.
“Well, I’m sure Pugsley and Wednesday would love to learn about your blasting caps, they so rarely get to play with plastic explosives these days,” she said.
“It’s never too early to learn safety procedure.” His head ticked to the side when Gomez started to come down the stairs. “Do you need me to go?”
“Oh, of course not, my dear, Gomez would love to meet you.”
Wade’s shoulders had grown tight once more and he’d gone back to muttering to his voices. Now, Morticia wasn’t one to judge, but it did seem to her that he tended towards internal conversation more when he was uncomfortable or excited than when he was at ease. Something to consider, perhaps to consult Grandmama about if he was open to such a thing. He did, however, stay put in his seat, even though his grip tightened to white knuckled on his teacup, thankfully not enough to shatter the good china. Kitty pushed his head into Wade’s lap, rocking his whole body on the chair as he forced the chair back from the table, the sweet creature.
“I’ve never met a lion this friendly, you know,” Wade said cheerfully. “Most of them usually try to tear my intestines out as soon as I get close. Kitty’s a nice one, you guys must have some serious mojo.”
“Oh, he was the sweetest kitten, so easy. Nothing like those cheetah kits we fostered, not picky at all. And he’s never tried to eat any of our birds either.” Exposure to magic perhaps?
“Cariña, I didn’t know we had a guest!”
Gomez’s voice was a physical presence always, as alive and deep as he was, something that soothed her to her bones even at her most vexed. That morning was no different, she was up to greet him with less than a thought, kept in the proper way for their having a guest, of course.
“Gomez, this is Wade, Wade, my husband Gomez. Wade returned from an adventure in the beyond on our lawn this morning, darling, so I thought we should offer him some tea. I didn’t want to interrupt your yoga practice, I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you.”
Gomez only stared at Wade’s beautiful scars briefly enough not to be rude, his usual guest’s smile already primed. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet someone with such a sense of adventure, Wade. Welcome to our home, though I’m sure Morticia has already made you at home, she has such a gift for making people comfortable.”
“She does. Never had a better cup of tea in my life. Love the rug in your foyer, by the way, so lifelike!” Wade babbled, one hand still clenched firmly on the handle of his teacup while the other was slowly tightening around a handful of Kitty’s mane; it was such a shame the poor man was so shy about his appearance.
“Thank you, it was Tish’s idea, that rug, really livens up the room. I would’ve been hopeless decorating this place without her. She’s got such a good eye for gloom.” Gomez wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close against him; he smelled of cigar smoke and metal, so familiar, as warm and wonderful as his words.
“Oh nonsense, you were my muse, my love. Now come, let’s have breakfast, shall we?”
Wade was clearly watching them quite closely, though what he had to fear when he was as proficient with a katana as he was, Morticia hadn’t the faintest idea. He was such a lively presence, if a bit colorful for her personal tastes. Red was acceptable, though, especially as he favored the most indulgent shade of blood red, and it did look good with his skin as well, she could admit. Black would’ve been cheerier perhaps, but then, he was such an electrifying presence on his own, he didn’t need the assistance.
Breakfast before the children were awake was usually a quieter affair, more intimate, but Wade was anything but quiet. “You know, you guys’ vultures are a lot less annoying than the usual ones. Most of the time in places with so many of the them chilling in the trees I wake up with someone eating my face. I might have to die around here more often so I can appreciate it.”
“Our house is open to you if you’d like to come around,” Gomez said, taking one of the pre-preserved scones from Morticia’s plate.
“You’re serious?”
“Sure, you’re Tish’s guest after all, and you have an appreciation for the finer things.”
For the first time since he’d come in, Wade was speechless, simply staring behind his lenses while Gomez fixed his tea with cream and sugar. The scars on Wade’s jaw shifted, Gomez’s spoon tinked against his teacup, Kitty kneaded the rug, the clocks ticked, Lurch brought something up the stairs with his deliberate steps. Yes, everything was perfectly gloomy.
Finally, Wade found his tongue.
“You’re crazier than me,” he said with a laugh.
“We’re all a little crazy,” Gomez said. “Finding where you fit’s the thing, don’t you think, Tish?”
He was so wise! “Of course, dear, people have their own way, and some fit together so very neatly.”
“Ah, cariña.” Gomez nuzzled into her neck.
///
Unfortunately, Wade didn’t stay long enough to meet the rest of the family, truly a shame. He'd said he was in the middle of work and had delayed as long as he was able, and it had been quite nice of him to do so when he was so busy, Morticia had thought. She watched him walk down the path to the gate with a bag of her very best broiled newt’s eyes left over from the night before, a spring in his step, and a most delightfully ferocious sense of purpose.
“What a nice man,” she said, leaning into Gomez’s side.
“Maybe he’ll come around again.”
A warm arm was around her waist once more and she smiled, deeply certain.
“Oh, I think we will, Gomez, perhaps even sooner than we know.”