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He just wanted to apologize.
Truly, he wanted what was best for his daughter. Gomez loved Wednesday with all his heart. She was like him when he was young. And then she fell in love.
When she did, Gomez felt the need to cater to her. She asked him to keep her engagement a secret, and he did just that. He did everything right for her.
Everything right for Wednesday. But he did everything wrong for Morticia.
All he'd ever wanted was contentment for his family. He wanted them to be happy with his decisions and their own.
It was an understatement saying he'd messed up.
[...]
Gomez couldn't help but let his mind falter as Morticia stomped down the corridor. Of course, he'd tried to sway her his way with distractions. Yet as the words fell from his lips, he'd never felt more disgusting . He was as in the mood as she was, but the topic was his last resort. Of course, she'd said no.
" Cara, please, listen to me," Gomez tried to reason with her. His hand found hers, and he gave it a squeeze. Reassuring.
She pulled away.
"I don't listen to liars, " Morticia spat the last word out, throwing Gomez's hand back at him. He held his arms close to his chest. He knew he'd messed up. He understood that. He shouldn't have kept a secret, and, hell, Wednesday shouldn't have told him. It was bound to end in a fight.
Yet as Morticia stood in front of him, her arms crossed, a bitter expression on her face, he couldn't help but blame it on himself.
Because it was all his fault, wasn't it? He'd kept a secret from his wife and what if she left him? What if he was nothing but himself? What if they went back to the way it was before they met? Gomez Addams, alone. Alone and untrusting.
He felt guilty as his mind began to slip, Morticia's scolding slowly turning to mush. Another secret he'd kept from her.
"And now you're making me look like the liar! I told Alice you were truthful, and now that's a lie. Unlike you, I don't lie on purpose." Gomez placed two fingers to his neck, finding his pulse racing.
He felt useless, sitting there, letting her scream at him. Although the house was large, it felt like everyone could hear. Gomez on display, vulnerable.
Little .
He was ever grateful when she stormed off, leaving him on his own. Of course, he never wanted Morticia to leave him. He couldn't be alone. Not for long. But he couldn't stand being yelled at for a second longer.
He covered his ears, pulling his feet into the chair. It wasn't to quiet the noise of the house as much as it was to quiet his thoughts, but it worked nonetheless.
Gomez needed to get out of there.
He stood up, wasting no time running the opposite way down the corridor, finding the grand staircase that led to the next floor of the manor. He ran quickly, his hands held tight over his ears.
Bad. All of it was bad. Thoughts, words. Body, mind. Bad, bad, bad.
[...]
Dark curls fell around his fingertips, reaching his wrists. He could tuck the hair behind his ears with how long it had gotten. And in Gomez's opinion, that was bad, too.
He knew his hair grew fast. His mother had always told it to him as she brushed it and braided it, a single braid down his back every day until he had the courage to cut it all off with the dagger that day at Nevermore. He'd met Morticia, then.
He needed to cut his hair. But that was a task for later. He knew he wouldn't be able to sit still for long enough to cut his own hair, not if he slipped.
And boy , was he slipping.
Gomez threw the door of the guest bedroom open, finding the room just as he'd left it last. Chaos. Alphabet blocks scattered on the floor, the only ones organized the ones spelling G-O-M-E-Z. A pacifier with a bat in the center on the bed. Sweet milk in a baby bottle on the nightstand, left there from weeks prior. Maybe months. Gomez hadn't counted. He'd put off regressing for a while, because he was spending time with Morticia. He'd die before she knew he was a little.
But look a' me now, he thought, eyes trained on his own in the mirror. Runnin' away from da guests. Jus' to be alone an' lil.
He tore his eyes away from the mirror, running to the large bed in the center of the room. Gomez pulled the blankets over himself, becoming part of the red-and-black mess that was the bed. He tore his shoes off, throwing them out of the bed along with his jacket. He wanted to be comfortable.
Comfortable. Still too tired to change, though.
What did tired even mean, then? Why was he tired, really? Maybe he was tired of the people. Maybe he was tired of Morticia. Maybe he was tired of being big. But maybe, he was simply exhausted from the day.
All he knew was that he was tired enough to take a nice little nap.
He tucked his head under the covers, briefly holding an arm out to search the nightstand for his pacifier. When the item was successfully found, Gomez let himself grin. He pushed it into his mouth before turning himself over to slumber.
Or, at least, he tried.
Until the door clicked open.
She'd found him, hadn't she? Morticia had found him, pushing the world away, slipping further by the second as he sunk into the pillows. No one needed to find him. No one needed to know he was even there in the first place.
He buried himself in the blankets, silently wishing he was never there. God, he'd messed up. First he'd fought with her, and then he'd gone and regressed and she didn't even know he was here-
"Hello? 'S anyone here?"
It wasn't Morticia.
Slowly, Gomez pulled the covers below his head just enough for him to see who stood in the doorway. When the coast was clear, he let himself sit up, criss-cross-applesauce with his pacifier still in. He didn't need to take it out.
Because there, chewing the sleeve of her yellow dress, looking just as little as he was, stood Alice.
The second she saw him, she smiled. It made him smile, letting himself shake his head from side to side. Alice wasted no time throwing herself at his bed, landing on her stomach and giggling.
"Hewo!" She spoke softly, unlike the display Gomez had seen just hours before. He reached his arm out, and by instinct, she caught his hand. Alice crawled to meet him, happily making her way.
"Small?" she asked. A certain glint in her eyes appeared when the word was spoken, like she was excited. Like she was less alone . Gomez had wanted to be alone at first, but it felt like a miracle that she'd found him while regressed herself.
Slowly, Gomez nodded, letting his free hand curl around the blanket. He pulled it up, wrapping it around his torso.
"'S sof," Gomez explained. "'Mere."
Alice followed, and he lifted the blanket up for her. He leaned against the headboard, letting her support her head on his shoulder if she wanted. She took his offer, curls brushing against his chin as she slumped against him. Gomez didn't mind.
"How 'ittle?" Alice asked, holding out her hand, the thumb tucked into her palm. "'M this many."
Gomez quietly counted her fingers, using his pointer finger to tap them as he went, counting to four. Four years old. Too old for Gomez.
In response, Gomez held up two of his own fingers. He used them to tap on the back of Alice's hand, getting her attention easily. She looked up from where she sat, scanning the room and "ooh"ing at Gomez's toys.
"Baby?" Alice asked, pointing to the pacifier in Gomez's mouth. He nodded again. She sat up, crossing her legs and making grabby hands. "'M gon' be big sissy today, m'kay?" she asked for confirmation. Gomez liked that idea. He wrapped his hand around hers, pulling her to the floor to play.
"Blocks," Gomez explained, pointing to the bucket of the item in question. About a hundred letter blocks sat in a pile, half of them scattered across the floor. Five of them spelled his name, which he happily presented to Alice.
"Pwetty," she marveled. Alice quickly caught on to the task at hand, bringing the blocks close enough to her face to read them. She didn't have her glasses on; they only created more discomfort. Slowly, she fit the blocks next to the ones Gomez had already arranged. A-L-I-C-E.
She finished spelling with a small "Ta-da!" Alice led Gomez's hand to the blocks, letting him see. He tapped each of the blocks as he read them, making sure not to misread them by reading one of the letters twice.
"Alice," he whispered, reading the word. Alice looked up, grinning. She took Gomez's hand, curling his fingers around his own and squeezing it once before getting distracted by his hair, tucking the curls behind his ears. Gomez hid his face, clearly not liking the length of it as much as Alice did.
"Wha's wrong?" Alice asked, her hand falling from Gomez's hair. He shook his head, bringing his knees up and holding his arms around them.
"Don' like ma hair," he whispered, pouting. "'S too girly. Long." Alice pressed her lips together, pulling Gomez's hair into a little ponytail at the back of his head. Some of the curls fell out and Gomez was sure that it was full of tangles, but Alice had given him a solution.
"Dere! Now you gots shorta hair!" Alice beamed. Gomez smiled, holding her hand tight. He let his head droop onto her shoulder, still feeling tired. He was perfectly content to use her as his pillow, slowly slipping further by the minute, growing tired as he regressed.
"Gomez 'eepy?" Alice asked, letting him lean on her. She rested a hand on his back, the fabric of his shirt strangely soft. She was glad it was. Gomez nodded, wordless. He nuzzled his head into her shoulder, fitting his legs around her waist. Alice leaned against the foot of the large bed, the soft blanket hanging over the edge and keeping her back comfortable.
Come to think of it, she could use a nap.
Gomez closed his eyes, his lips closed around his pacifier just enough to keep it in his mouth. He let himself drift off, focusing solely on the soft texture of Alice's dress where he rested in her lap. She was content to keep him there, gently running fingers through his hair.
And suddenly, suddenly, he wasn't ashamed of keeping that secret anymore.