Work Text:
The air was crisp and cool, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting an orange and purple haze over the dense woods that surrounded Nevermore Academy. Shadows stretched long and menacing across the forest floor, dancing with the sway of the trees. The towering pines seemed to lean closer together, forming an almost impenetrable wall of shadows, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands. Somewhere in the distance, a low, mournful hoot of an owl echoed alongside the caws of crows ahead reminding her so much of the Addams mansion, the sound chilling and lonely, as though warning against the path ahead.
Wednesday Addams walked with purpose, her black boots crunching against the carpet of dead leaves that blanketed the ground. The faint scent of damp earth and decaying wood filled her senses, a scent she found oddly comforting. The deeper she ventured, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The sunlight disappeared entirely, leaving only the dim, eerie glow of twilight to guide her. Mist clung to the ground in tendrils, swirling around her feet as though alive, and the occasional rustle in the underbrush hinted at unseen eyes watching her every move.
How very comforting.
Despite the foreboding surroundings, Wednesday remained unfazed as was her nature when fazed with such ventures. Her sharp eyes scanned the area with a calculated intensity, following the faint trail of clues that had led her here. A series of cryptic symbols carved into tree trunks, barely visible beneath the moss, had caught her attention earlier in the week when taking a walk alongside her wolf. The carvings spoke of something ancient and hidden, a relic of the academy’s dark past which she hadn’t yet finished uncovering. Naturally, she couldn’t resist investigating.
The forest seemed to grow quieter as she approached what seemed to be her destination. Ahead, barely visible through the thick haze of mist, was a dilapidated cabin. The structure leaned precariously to one side, its roof sagging and its windows shattered. Vines crawled up its walls like veins, and the door hung ajar, creaking softly in the faint breeze. It was the kind of place that begged to be avoided—a perfect haven for the mysteries Wednesday sought.
“Thrilling,” Wednesday murmured.
She stepped inside, the floorboards groaning beneath her weight. The air was heavy with the scent of mildew and rot, and faint cobwebs draped the corners like forgotten memories. Her eyes immediately fell on the center of the room, where a faded rug lay suspiciously out of place among the decay. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled the rug aside, revealing a trapdoor beneath. Its edges were worn, as though it had been opened and closed countless times, and deep scratch marks marred the wood, as though something had tried desperately to claw its way out.
Wednesday’s lips curled into a faint smirk. She crouched down, her pale fingers tracing the edges of the trapdoor before finding the rusted metal ring that served as its handle. With a sharp tug, she pulled it open, the hinges screaming in protest. A dark, gaping hole yawned beneath her, its depths swallowing the faint light that trickled in from above. A wooden ladder descended into the abyss, its rungs slick with moisture and coated in a thin layer of grime.
She didn’t hesitate. Carefully, after testing the sturdiness of the ladder and confirming it could hold her weight, she began her descent, her boots finding purchase on the unstable rungs. The air grew colder the further she went. The faint drip of water echoed somewhere below, each drop amplifying the suffocating silence. Almost reaching the end, the rung she reached suddenly gave way. The wood splintered with a deafening crack, and she plunged downward, the cold air rushing past her as she fell. She landed hard on the ground below, the impact jarring and unforgiving. Pain radiated through her left ankle, and her ribs ached with every breath.
“How pathetic,” she muttered, wincing as she sat up and assessed her injuries. Her left ankle throbbed, likely sprained, and her ribs ached with every breath. The end of the hole she had fallen into was deep and narrow, with walls too slick to climb. Above her, the faint square of light from the trapdoor seemed impossibly far away as well as the remaining ladder steps, which were too high for her to reach.
Fortunately, she wasn’t alone. Thing had accompanied her on this venture, his loyalty unwavering. The disembodied hand skittered down to her side after climbing out of her backpack, tapping out an anxious rhythm on the ground.
“I’m perfectly capable of handling this,” she said sharply, though the pain in her voice betrayed her words. “But I’ll allow you the opportunity to make yourself useful. Go get help.”
Thing hesitated, tapping out a series of urgent gestures.
“Yes, I’m aware it’s a long way back to Nevermore,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped. “Do I look like I’m in a position to entertain your doubts? Go.”
With a final pat of reassurance on her arm, Thing scurried off, climbing the jagged walls of the pit with an ease that could only be described as another Addams family mystery before disappearing into the forest. Alone, Wednesday leaned back against the damp wall, her mind racing. She hated relying on others, but even she had to admit there were limits to her independence, she only hoped she would’t have to wait long for help to arrive being helpless was not something she enjoyed reliving for long.
---
Back at Nevermore, Enid Sinclair was pacing their shared dorm room, her frustration mounting with each passing minute. Wednesday had promised to be back before her usual writing hour, but the clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, marking her absence. It wasn’t like Wednesday to be late, and it certainly wasn’t like her to vanish without a word, at least not since they started dating a month ago and Wednesday was a bit more conscious of trying to at least report to Enid her whereabouts, which clearly, not always worked.
Enid’s mind raced through every possible scenario. Maybe Wednesday was engrossed in some dark and twisted project. Maybe she’d forgotten the time. Or maybe something had happened. The last thought made Enid’s stomach churn with unease.
“She’s fine,” Enid told herself aloud, though the words sounded hollow, however unable to bear it any longer, she started asking in her group chats if anyone has seen Wednesday around. Her worry only deepened when she learned that no one had seen her since classes ended. After trying one last time by writing to Bianca directly and see if she saw her, her unease transformed into outright panic once Bianca confirmed Wednesday had missed their fencing class.
After hearing of this, Enid made a decision. She needed to find Wednesday, and she needed to do it now. Taking a deep breath, she allowed the wolf inside her to surface. The shift was seamless yet powerful, her bones elongating and muscles rippling as fur sprouted across her skin. The transformation left her feeling invigorated, her senses sharper than ever. Her vision adjusted instantly to the dim light of their dorm, every shadow now a vivid detail. The faintest sounds—the rustling of leaves outside, the distant footsteps of other students—echoed in her ears as if amplified. The air carried a thousand scents, each one distinct, but her focus zeroed in on one: Wednesday’s. It was faint but unmistakable, a unique blend of damp ink, cedar-wood, and something darker, something undeniably her.
Her claws flexed against the wooden floor as she inhaled deeply, committing the trail to memory. Just as she prepared to leap from the balcony into the woods, a familiar sight caught her attention.
Thing was climbing up the wall toward her, his frantic movements a clear sign of urgency. Enid leaned down, allowing him to hop onto her back. Through a series of rapid taps, Thing conveyed Wednesday’s situation.
“She fell through a hole?” Enid growled, her voice roughened by her wolf form. Thing tapped again, adding details about the distance and urgency, making emphasis on Wednesdays physical state, explaining she got hurt when she fell.
Without hesitation, Enid bolted into the forest, her powerful legs propelling her forward at an incredible speed. Thing clung tightly to her fur, guiding her with taps and gestures as they raced through the trees. Enid’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and determination fueling her every step. She couldn’t lose Wednesday. Not now, not ever.
--
The woods grew darker as Enid pushed herself harder, her wolf instincts heightening her senses. She caught faint traces of Wednesday’s scent—a mix of damp earth, ink, and something uniquely her. It was enough to guide her, even as the terrain grew more treacherous. Branches clawed at her fur, and roots threatened to trip her, but she pressed on, driven by the image of Wednesday alone and hurt.
The sound of approaching footsteps reached Wednesday’s ears long before she saw anyone. She straightened, wincing at the pain in her side, and peered up toward the trapdoor. A familiar silhouette appeared against the faint light, the pointed ears unmistakable and her breath hitched in silent relief.
Enid.
The werewolf didn’t hesitate as soon as she caught sight of Wednesday at the bottom of the tunnel, her heightened eyesight making it easy for her to see her clearly. She climbed down into the pit with ease, her claws finding purchase on the slick walls. When she reached Wednesday, she nosed her gently, her golden eyes filled with worry. Without shifting back into her human form, she carefully positioned herself so Wednesday could climb on her back and get them both out of there.
Wednesday tried her hardest to not flinch at the sudden pain she felt when trying to climb onto Enid, however she didn’t think she was successful once she heard Enid let out a low whine. The wolf’s ears twitched, but she didn’t make any further moves until she was sure Wednesday was securely on her back. Once she did, she crouched low to give her strong back legs some momentum, and made a strong leap.
With remarkable strength and agility, Enid was able to lift them out of the tunnel, carrying Wednesday securely on her back. Once they were on solid ground, Enid paused, sniffing the air for any signs of danger. Once satisfied that they were alone, she began to make her way back toward Nevermore, her steps steady and careful to avoid jostling Wednesday and risking injuring her further.
Once the trek back started, Wednesday turned to look at Thing, silently thanking him for getting help, and with a soft pat to Wednesdays hand, Thing communicated their welcome, and wisely moved to hide once more in Wednesdays backpack, no longer worried about any incoming danger, and not wanting to be part of what surely will be an uncomfortable travel back with Enid’s tangible anger looming as a threat.
The journey back was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft sound of Enid’s paws against the forest floor. Wednesday’s dark eyes studied her companion’s wolf form, noting the tension in her movements. Enid was angry—that much was clear. Her pointed refusal to talk to Wednesday or even look at her spoke volumes.
“I suppose you’re upset with me,” Wednesday said, her voice calm despite the situation. “You could at least articulate your grievances instead of just sulking.”
Enid’s only response was a low, rumbling growl, her ears flicking back briefly as if to acknowledge Wednesday’s words but choosing not to dignify them with a proper reply.
“Sulking doesn’t suit you,” Wednesday continued, her tone dry but laced with the faintest hint of amusement. “I thought wolves were supposed to be pack animals. Aren’t you supposed to… I don’t know, communicate?”
Enid huffed through her nose, her pace quickening slightly as if to put an end to the conversation. Her tail swished once, a sharp, deliberate motion that Wednesday interpreted as a silent rebuke.
Undeterred, Wednesday tilted her head slightly, studying the back of Enid’s wolf form. “You’re rather majestic like this,” she said, her voice softer. “Terrifying, almost. It’s… endearing.”
For a brief moment, Enid’s ears perked up, but she quickly flattened them again, refusing to give Wednesday the satisfaction of a reaction. Her focus remained on the path ahead, though the tension in her movements betrayed her lingering frustration.
“You’re still angry,” Wednesday observed, her tone matter-of-fact. “I suppose that’s fair. But you must know I didn’t intend to worry you. I underestimated the situation, yes, but I wasn’t careless.”
Enid let out a sharp bark, her golden eyes flicking back toward Wednesday briefly before returning to the trail. The message was clear: not good enough.
“Stubborn,” Wednesday muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She fell silent for a while, the rhythmic sound of Enid’s paws against the forest floor filling the space between them. The journey, though tense, felt oddly intimate. Wednesday found herself oddly comforted by the steady presence of the wolf carrying her.
Enid’s only response was to pick up her pace, clearly determined to get them back to the dorm as quickly as possible.
--
When they finally arrived at their room, Enid gently lowered herself to the floor so that Wednesday could climb off her back and onto her bed before stepping back. The wolf stood still for a moment, her golden eyes meeting Wednesday’s dark ones, before she shifted back into her human form. Her expression was a mix of relief, frustration, and exhaustion.
“What were you thinking, Wednesday?” Enid demanded, her voice trembling with emotion. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? You can’t just… disappear like that without telling me!”
Wednesday’s gaze remained steady, though a flicker of guilt crossed her face. “I didn’t think it was necessary,” she admitted. “I’ve always handled things on my own.”
Enid let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “Well, newsflash, Wednesday: you’re not alone anymore! You have me. And when you don’t tell me where you are, I assume the worst. Do you even understand what that feels like?”
Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I understand more than you think,” she said quietly. “I’m… not accustomed to considering others. But I can see that I caused you unnecessary distress. For that, I apologize ma cher.”
Enid crossed her arms, her gaze unyielding. “An apology isn’t enough, Wednesday. I need you to promise me that you’ll at least let me know next time. Even if it’s just a stupid note. I need to know you’re safe.”
Wednesday hesitated, her dark eyes searching Enid’s face. The vulnerability there was unfamiliar territory for her, but she could see how deeply her actions had affected Enid. “I…promise,” she said finally, her voice hesitant but sincere. “I’ll make an effort to… keep you informed.”
Enid’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but she wasn’t ready to let it go completely. “You scared me, Wednesday. I thought I might lose you.”
“You won’t,” Wednesday said firmly. “Not if I can help it.”
Enid sighed, her resolve softening as she stepped closer. “You’re lucky I’m crazy about you, Willa” she muttered.
Before Wednesday could respond, Enid’s wolf instincts flared to life, and she grabbed Wednesday by the collar of her shirt, pulling her close. Their lips collided in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender if that was even possible. Enid’s hands cupped Wednesday’s face, her fingers trembling slightly as she poured every ounce of her relief and fear into the moment. Her wolf—protective and possessive—demanded that Wednesday understand the depth of her feelings and the importance of her safety to them.
Wednesday, caught off guard initially, tensed briefly before surrendering to the kiss. Her hands moved to Enid’s waist, steadying herself as the intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm her, her injuries delegated to the back of her mind in the face of such a passionate affair. Despite her stoic exterior, she couldn’t deny the rush of warmth and comfort that came with Enid’s touch. The kiss deepened, a silent promise passing between them: neither would let the other face the world alone.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Enid’s golden eyes searched Wednesday’s dark ones, her expression softening as she saw the unspoken understanding there.
“You’re mine,” Enid said, her voice low but steady. “And I’m yours. Don’t ever make me worry like that again.”
Wednesday’s lips quirked into a faint smile, the hint of a dimple shining through her left cheek, while her tone remained as dry as ever. “I’ll do my best to avoid unnecessary peril. For you.”
Enid’s laughter was soft but genuine, and she leaned her forehead against Wednesday’s. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not baby-cakes.”
Wednesday’s voice softened, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through her usual façade. “I think I’m beginning to like it.”
They stayed like that for a while, their foreheads touching, the weight of the night’s events slowly melting away. In that moment, they found solace in each other, their bond strengthened by the trials they’d faced. And as they settled into the quiet comfort of their room, the kiss lingered in their minds, a reminder of the undeniable pull for more, but their mutual agreement to wait a bit before delving more into their physical connection loomed over their heads, plus, you know, Wednesday did just fall into a tunnel, so, there were other primary concerns.
“Being in love really required a lot of effort in restraint,” Enid thought, “But it’s so so worth it”