Work Text:
“I’m not happy with our son.”
“What? What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tyler chewed on his bite of spinach, glancing from his wife to his son. It was quiet at the dinner table, too quiet . It was unusual not to have some small talk. Wednesday stabbed at her food while Dean was slouched in his chair. “Are either of you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to guess?”
Their son shrugged. “Mom’s mad.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Tyler rolled his eyes. “But why ?”
“Because your son is being ridiculous!” Wednesday snapped.
“I didn’t say anything wrong. You know it’s true,” Dean protested.
“ Okay ,” Tyler cut in, giving them a look each. “What did Dean say?”
Silence .
Dean was clearly trying to hide his smirk behind his soda can, wholly unaffected by the glare Wednesday was giving him. What would Tyler have to do to get a straight answer out of them?
“You guys-”
“Dean told me we are like my parents !” Wednesday hissed.
That ....He wasn’t expecting. “What?”
“Like I said,” Dean said stubbornly, “it’s true.”
“It most certainly is not!” Wednesday immediately refuted.
“You guys can’t keep your hands off each other,” Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s gross.”
“We have more self control than that!” Wednesday scowled.
“ Really? ” There was a fire in his eyes that reminded Tyler distinctly of Wednesday. “What about on Uncle Pugsley’s birthday when you guys were supposedly tired after the long drive and you guys went to lie down ,” he used air quotes.
Tyler set his fork down, slightly uncomfortable that his son knew what they’d really been doing. It was true, they had been tired, but what was meant as a time to rest quickly turned into much more when he pushed Wednesday down on her childhood bed. By the look on her face, he would wager to say that she was recalling that night as well. “You knew?” he winced.
“We all knew,” Dean’s voice was flat, his expression unmistakably annoyed. “And we all heard. ”
Tyler blushed like a teenager caught by his dad all over again. “You did?”
“ Yeah . Me and Uncle Pugsley left when Grandma and Grandpa Addams started talking about their first time,” Dean groaned, the memories of that night likely resurfacing.
Tyler shut his eyes, his hand covering his face. “Dean...go to your room.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Practically leaping up from the chair, their son was gone within seconds.
Glancing over at his wife, he saw Wednesday’s jaw was clenched, her eyes so fierce she could have melted the ice that was in her glass.
“Sweetheart-”
She turned to him, furious. “I have become my parents and it is all your fault!”
Wednesday stormed out of the room, leaving Tyler there all by himself.