Work Text:
Wednesday was sitting at her desk, typing away, finishing the last line left on the paper. Her ever-so-focused mind was temporarily distracted by the mystery the Gates Mansion had left on her. She removed the paper and placed it face down over the stack that was her novel in progress, then opened the drawer next to her, pulling out and inspecting the music box she found in Laurel Gates' room. “If Laurel Gates died 20 years ago, then who is sleeping in her bedroom? Why do they have photos of me, and what is their connection to the Hyde?” She thought as she opened the box. “Whoever it is, they are clearly willing to kill for their secret.”
She turned and looked at Enid’s now stripped away side of the room, her plushies staring back with beady eyes and fake smiles as if they were judging her, mocking her. Goody had predicted her search for the truth would be lonely, which was fine with her, but when she needed her, Goody was nowhere to be found. She turned back to her typewriter, closed the box, and put it away when the click of the door broke the deep silence that had settled over the room since Enid left.
Wednesday didn’t need to look to know who had entered the room. The familiar pattern of her breathing, the subtle shift of her weight against the floorboards, the sweet smell of her perfume… She stood up, taking slow steps towards the door, yet staying at her side.
Enid walked in timidly, hiding her hands behind her back. “Hi, sorry. I figured you were still at Mayor Walker’s wake.”
Wednesday stared at her, her expression stoic, “As soon as the dirt hits the coffin, I am out.”
Enid sighs slightly but ignores her, “I can't seem to find my bottle of silver moon nail polish.” She said cautiously, her voice too sugar-coated. “Do you mind if I look around?”
The words were functional. Empty. An excuse more than a reason. Wednesday recognized the hollowness immediately.
Enid started walking towards her side as Wednesday followed suit on her own. “Yoko’s hosting a mani-pedi party for her crew.” She added, turning slightly away from Wednesday, trying to keep the conversation casual.
“This is the third time in 24 hours you have forgotten something,” Wednesday replied dryly, standing stiffly in the center of the room with her arms crossed, still looking towards Enid’s side.
Enid moved toward her desk, methodically sifting through the drawer, but Wednesday could see the search was half-hearted. Her fingers barely brushed through the items in there. It was obvious her mind was elsewhere.
As was Wednesday’s.
For a moment, neither spoke. The air felt thick. Heavier than it had been last night during the argument that sent Enid fleeing to Yoko’s dorm.
“So…” Enid ventured, looking up and towards Wednesday, after the silence stretched too long, her voice brittle. “How’s everything going?”
If she expected a crack in Wednesday’s armor, she wouldn’t find it here. Wednesday stood straighter, lifting her chin slightly up. “Solitude suits me. With no annoying distractions, I am almost finished with my novel.”
Enid closed the drawer to focus completely on Wednesday, her expression hardening. The nail polish forgotten entirely now. “Is that what I was?” She demanded, voice firm. “An annoying distraction?”
Wednesday held her gaze, but behind her blank expression, something unsteady twisted in her chest. The same something that had coiled there since last night. She spoke anyway. “You definitely had some annoying habits.”
Enid’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer. The unspoken challenge hung between them. “Such as?”
It was the familiar rhythm of their arguments, a rhythm Wednesday had always found oddly comforting, predictable even, until now. Now it felt like they were balancing on the edge of something neither of them wanted to name.
“You giggle when you text, which is a 24/7 addiction,” Wednesday said flatly. “It is excessive. And your phone dependency borders on pathological.”
Enid scoffed, walking calmly but with intent towards the center of the room. “Well, at least it’s not a migraine-inducing typewriter hammering into my head.”
“When you are not grinding your canines, you growl in your sleep.” Wednesday retorted, her voice rising a bit, “The vibrations carry across the room and disrupt my rest.”
“As opposed to late-night cello solos?” Enid growled, a frown etched on her brows.
“You overcommit to clubs and activities and then complain about them nonstop.” Wednesday shot back.
“I’d take that over your obsession with all things creepy and dead.” Enid huffed.
“You could gas an entire small village with the amount of perfume you spritz.” Wednesday finalized, “And that is just off the top of my head.”
They had stepped closer without noticing after each sentence. The duct tape line dividing the room had long been abandoned, and now there were only a few inches between them.
Enid bared her fangs slightly, “Guess I’m the lucky one with the new bestie that doesn’t try to find ways to endanger literally everybody she comes into contact with.”
That one struck deeper. Wednesday’s expression shifted, briefly unsteady.
Enid crossed her arms, voice lowering but still cutting. “You didn’t care about what happened to us last night. You barely even looked at me after that thing chased us through the house.” Her voice cracked slightly. “All you could think about was your stupid case.”
Wednesday’s stomach coiled tighter. The words echoed accusations she’d already heard from nearly everyone around her, Tyler, Weems, Sheriff Galpin, even Thing in his own silent way. But hearing it from Enid felt…different. Sharper.
“I told you,” Wednesday said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “I was close to solving everything.”
“We were in it together!” Enid burst, eyes glassy now. “I thought you cared if something happened to me!”
“I do care.” The admission slipped out faster than Wednesday intended, her voice low but intense. “You just…failed to see...”
Enid shook her head, backing away a step. “No. You didn’t want me there at all. That’s not the same thing.”
There was a long pause between them, heavy with everything unsaid.
Enid sighed, her voice cold. “Yoko is begging me to be her new roomie, permanently...and I’m seriously considering it.”
Another jab. Another hit to Wednesday’s already-faltering control. She turned her back to Enid and walked towards her typewriter, forcing the words out, “Do not let me hold you back.”
Enid stared at the back of her head for a beat, disbelief flickering in her features, like she expected Wednesday to stop her. Beg, even. But Wednesday said nothing.
“Enjoy your solitude, Wednesday,” Enid spat, and walked toward the door. Her hand reaching for the knob. Her fingers closed around it.
Wednesday’s pulse spiked painfully in her throat. She didn’t even realize she was moving until she felt her hand wrap around Enid’s wrist. “Enid.”
Enid froze, her back still to her.
Wednesday swallowed, forcing herself to breathe. She had run every logical scenario through her mind last night and arrived at the same conclusion each time: let Enid go. Let her stay safe. But now, staring at her retreating back, all that logic unraveled in a messy tangle of panic. “Please…don’t go.”
Slowly, Enid turned. Her expression was conflicted, the anger still simmered beneath the surface, but it softened under the unfamiliar vulnerability in Wednesday’s voice.
“You don’t get to do this,” Enid said, voice trembling. “You don’t get to act like you suddenly care after everything you said.”
“I did not mean it the way you heard it,” Wednesday whispered.
“Then how did you mean it?” Enid asked in confusion.
The question landed heavily between them.
Wednesday stepped forward, deliberate. Closer. Close enough that she could see the faint sheen of unshed tears in Enid’s eyes.
“I was scared,” Wednesday admitted softly. “I was scared that getting too close to you would compromise everything. My focus. The case. My control.”
Enid blinked quickly, eyes shining now. “You think I’m the problem? That being close to me is some kind of weakness?”
“No,” Wednesday said quickly. Another step. Now, barely inches remained. “You make me feel…things I have spent my entire life training myself to suppress.”
Enid’s breath hitched, her voice barely audible. “Things?”
The question hung delicately in the space between them, trembling, fragile.
Wednesday lifted a tentative hand, reaching out to brush a loose strand of Enid’s hair behind her ear. Her fingertips lingered, the touch feather-light, as though afraid it might shatter something. “You terrify me,” Wednesday whispered, her voice raw.
Enid exhaled a shaky breath, her defenses softening even further. “You terrify me, too.” Her voice cracked slightly, and this time, Wednesday didn’t hesitate. She let her hand slide gently behind Enid’s neck, fingers brushing the base of her hair, pulling her closer. Enid leaned forward, her breathing uneven as their foreheads almost touched.
For a moment, they simply stood like that, breathing each other in, hearts pounding against fragile ribs, too overwhelmed to move further but unable to step back.
Finally, Wednesday’s voice broke through the silence, so soft Enid barely heard it. “Stay.”
Enid let out a small, shaky laugh, her lips curving into a vulnerable smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
The tension between them snapped like a taut thread as they leaned in. Their lips met in a cautious, tentative kiss, soft and uncertain at first, like testing forbidden ground. But as Enid’s arms found Wednesday’s waist and Wednesday’s hand slid fully into her hair, the kiss deepened.
Slowly, carefully, the hesitance melted into something warmer, not rushed, but desperate in its own quiet way. The culmination of all their unsaid words, all their charged glances, and quiet aching over weeks of unknown tension. It was both new and inevitable.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads remained pressed together. Wednesday’s hand moved gently to Enid’s cheek, her thumb brushing soft skin. “I do not want to lose you,” she whispered.
“You won’t,” Enid breathed, closing her eyes against Wednesday’s touch. “I’m not going anywhere...anymore.”
Neither moved for a long moment, both of them rooted in the quiet that followed. For once, Wednesday didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. She simply held Enid close, grounding herself in the warmth of her presence, no calculations, no defenses. Just the quiet, terrifying relief of knowing Enid was still here.
The silence stretched between them, thick but no longer heavy. This one was different, warmer, gentler. Wednesday tucked her face into the nook of Enid’s neck as Enid’s arms curled softly around Wednesday’s back, hugging her tight.
But Wednesday’s mind was brought back from this still comfort.
The residual terror from last night came full force to the surface. The chase through the Gates mansion, the blood-curdling snarls, the Hyde’s monstrous form crashing through the halls…and Enid, panting beside her, vulnerable, within reach of something neither of them could fight. Even now, Wednesday could hear the echo of Enid’s frantic breaths, the pounding of her heartbeat as they ran. And the fear that gripped Wednesday then wasn’t for herself. It never had been.
She swallowed, her chest tightening.
Sensing her tension, Enid pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Wednesday? What’s wrong?.”
Wednesday’s throat felt constricted. She pulled away and reached for Enid’s hands. The kiss had opened a door to uncharted waters, and now she felt dread… Dread that if something happened to Enid, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. Her defenses were brittle now, held together by instinct rather than will.
“I thought I understood fear,” she whispered. “I’ve been familiar with it for years. The cold kind. The calculated kind. The kind that keeps you alive.”
Enid’s fingers squeezed her hands, silently encouraging her to continue.
“But last night…” Wednesday paused, exhaling shakily. “When the Hyde came charging for us in that dumbwaiter… it was like something inside me split open. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t rational. It was…” She struggled to find the word.
Enid’s voice was barely audible. “Panic?”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered. “Yes. Panic. And something worse.” She shook her head slightly, gaze dropping for a moment. “I could handle the risk to myself. I always have. But the thought of you being hurt…of you being gone…” Her voice wavered briefly. “It was unbearable.”
Enid’s expression softened, her own eyes growing misty. “I’m okay, Wednesday. You saved me.”
“I did not,” Wednesday whispered, her voice breaking for the briefest second. “We were lucky. That is all. If it had gone differently…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The vision of Enid lying broken on that cold floor had haunted her through the night.
For a moment, the only sound was their breathing. Wednesday’s fingers twitched slightly in Enid’s grasp.
“When you left me last night,” Wednesday continued, her voice softer now, almost like a confession, “I sat in the center of our window thinking I had done the right thing. That pushing you away was safer. Smarter. Necessary.”
Enid blinked rapidly, her throat tightening.
“But when you weren’t here…” Wednesday’s voice trembled again. “It felt like drowning. And I finally understood.” She lifted her gaze, her eyes locked on Enid’s. “What I have really been afraid of since this whole mess unraveled.”
Her voice dropped even softer, almost reverent. “You.”
Enid frowned, her lips parted, a tiny gasp escaping, but Wednesday wasn’t finished.
“You are the variable I cannot control. The one person whose pain I cannot bear. And the only person…” She faltered again, the final admission sitting heavy on her tongue. “The only person I cannot imagine my life without…”
Enid’s breath caught. “Wednesday…”
“I did not understand it before,” Wednesday whispered, her eyes shining now. “I do now. This feeling burning inside me…is love, Enid.” She said the word softly, like it was foreign, but sacred. “That is what it is. That is what terrifies me.”
The weight of the word settled between them. For a heartbeat, Enid stared at her, eyes wide, and then she smiled. Not the forced, polite smile she sometimes wore, but something small and beautiful, threaded with emotion.
“You love me,” Enid whispered, like she was trying the words on her tongue for the first time.
Wednesday’s voice was almost inaudible. “I do.”
Enid blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in her throat. The tears that glimmered in her eyes now weren’t from anger anymore but from something far gentler. “I love you, too, Wednesday.”
Wednesday closed her eyes, exhaling a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. A breath that had been lodged there since Enid first stormed out the night before. Since the Hyde. Since she first started feeling things she had no name for.
Her voice was fragile now, breaking in a way that wasn’t weak, but real. “I am still afraid.”
Enid leaned in, her forehead gently pressing against Wednesday’s again, their noses brushing. “I know,” she whispered. “Me too. But we’ll figure it out.”
Wednesday let herself sink into the contact, letting the warmth of Enid’s touch settle her frayed nerves. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or how this would change them, but for the first time in her life, uncertainty didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like something she was willing to face, as long as Enid was there beside her. Alive, well, and loved…
The End