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Perhaps she didn’t know everything. Being the smartest in the room didn’t imply lack of anything else to learn.
A lesson thats been making her head throb, amidst varying contusions, bruises and apparent fractures. She’d landed on her back, but her body had been so vigilant—alert and naturally protective—she hadn’t been killed. A lot of others wouldn’t have survived the tumble she took. Like sky diving without a parachute.
Wednesday had heard every word. Every clinical term and mechanical tones of the machinery tracking her steady pulse. They had sounded shocked she had one at all.
They would be horrified if they knew she could see it too. She doesn’t know how to make sense of it enough to reassure anyone even if she wanted to. And trust, she didn’t. She just wanted to be out of this…purgatory state.
Where everything feels sharper, heightened yet intangible. Her touch like a stroke of wind as she watches a frantic nurse walk through her ‘body.’ She’s still in the same outfit she wore at Willowhill, only the her in the hospital bed had been forcefully torn in route to resuscitate her. Normally, she’d mourn the fact that they did at all—and Addams never runs from something as morbidly captivating as death.
However, Wednesday refused to go out by way of a scared little boy, hiding behind a monster’s rage and family vendetta that was never hers to bear. She hadn’t cared an inch past gaining information. Her every waking moment spent trying to stop what was fast becoming inevitable.
Tyler was still out there. He was free. Just like she had attempted to leave Enid.
Perhaps she had made things worse. It lit something in her belly, like a gas fire poorly contained. She would move buildings if she had to, if not mountains.
She wanted justice.
Cursed to be born in Autumn nightfall with a burgeoning sunrise—the scales of Libra were metallic. Harsh as the gavel she was keen to strike with.
If only she could do something.
She stands over her own battered body in the first moment she has alone. She knows its not forever; the fact that her family hadn’t barged in yet was short of a miracle. She only hoped that fate deemed her worthy of a few more.
The door bursts open. Wednesday turns her head and holds her breath. Her mother stands with Thing pn her shoulder, arms out and holding the door; the longer she idles the more she wonders if she was supporting herself from falling.
“Oh…” The pain in her expression is palpable. She almost wished she could hand her a handkerchief, watching the older woman float to her bedside and cradle her mouth in her hands. Thing, thankfully, picks up her slack. Her mom dabs at her eyes, but its fruitless. “Oh, my Wednesday…I should’ve never….”
Its choked. Her mother always dressed for an impromptu funeral, but the scene before her was all too fitting. The tears, the guilt, the air of mourning.
“Save your tears—Its not your fault. Either of you,” Wednesday speaks out into the void. She doesn’t care if she’s heard. “My stubborn will has landed me in worse. And will likely continue to.”
Because she knows that if Tyler hadn’t put her here, her legs would’ve naively followed. Threats to Enid’s life echoing in her ears, she would’ve chased the Hyde down with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Thing traces nervous patterns on the bed side. Wednesday fights the urge to grab him, because he mentions the asylum. The plan with Fester and the LOIS operation. He sings like a damn canary, her mother’s dove eyes going doe wide as she leans over to stroke hair from Wednesday’s actual face.
“They say secrets can weigh you down…sometimes they grow to be so much its not just you holding onto it anymore.” Her mother murmurs sagely, despite how unsettled she still appeared. “I thought I was pulling the brunt of it, but I see now I was mistaken.”
The door opens again. Another woman—Grandmama.
“What on Satan’s desolate Earth happened?” She exclaims as the door closes behind her. Her mother doesn’t say anything, in process of adjusting the blankets around her body. Wednesday notes the fact that she can’t truly feel it, but her current form was warmer than not. Grandmama makes it to foot of the hospital bed before she gasps. “Oh, my stars….”
“She was at Willowhill,” Her mother answers swiftly. A beat not missed, “Did you know about this?”
“She told me she was investigating something that had to do with one of her little friends,” Grandmama replies defensively. She clicks her teeth, “I was more so surprised she seemed to be getting on with someone not in the bloodline. She’s always been a go getter—a girl who doesn’t tie herself down.”
Wednesday sees the ever so subtle crack in her mother’s expression. Even in buffer of armor, a dent would remain.
“And yet…” Her mother drawls sardonically. “As if its not enough, the way Ophelia—”
“Watch your tone when it comes to things you don’t yet understand.” Grandmama warns with her words and her eyes. Its unnerving in a way, to see her mother look so…small. Scolded. Petulant. Her own mother a source of authority still, “Your sister was a danger to herself and you know that. Your meddling did no more back then than it will now.”
Its quiet after that. When Hester hisses through her teeth and her mother’s jaw works. A frown that hadn’t left since she entered Wednesday’s room. The youngest seer in the room watches with the same silent awe that Thing held in his knuckles. Taut, just like purgatory Wednesday’s grip in her own pockets. She hadn’t necessarily been anticipating being witness to this particular mother/daughter quarrel. Not this easily and without snooping, at least.
Somehow she feels like she knows even less.
“Anyway,” Grandmama clears her throat and fixes her expression. Forces a softness, if not only becase they had a common goal. “Your husband told me to tell you that he’s with Pugsley. The police took him for questioning, since one of the escapees is his ex…pet?”
She says it with a brow raise and purgatory Wednesday rolls her eyes. The zombie had been the least of her problems—was the least of her problems.
Tyler was still—
“It isn’t easy keeping a family together…but you know that, already,” Morticia quips. “Everyone has their quirks…their limitations and their preferences.”
“You’re right,” Grandmama agrees. A smile that doesn’t feel right in the moment. “I would have much preferred you had just joined the family business. Being a home maker was only ever going to leave you unsatisfied. Although, you know its not too late?”
Her mother had been absently looking down at her real body. Gazing at her like it would be the last time; finally ending with a kiss to her finger tips that she uses to place upon her daughter’s forehead. She whispers her love. Purgatory Wednesday holds her nonexistent breath as her mother stands up tall.
Hester gives her a strange look, “Going somewhere? Oh, please, Tish don’t tell me—”
“I’ve a few loose…odds and ends to sort through,” Her mother cuts her off with a reveal. Then, over her shoulder and full of intention, “But…I will return. I’ll always come back for my daughter.”
Wednesday feels the words travel from ear, through cartilage to canal. And they settle somewhere in her chest. Where, according to the monitor, she apparently has a heart.
Grandmama doesn’t linger for long after. A curse under her breath and shared look with Thing who looks to want to anything other than pick a side.
“Watch her. And come get one of us if she wakes up—take one of my cards,” The woman hands the nervous hand some card stock and paces off. Whether its towards her mother or somewhere else, she’s not sure. Nor can she check.
Everytime she’s tried to leave, her form begins to fade. Her hands going translucent, akin to her would be stalker. Part of her regrets not bringing the little ginger menace inside. The other isn’t cruel enough to have put her in danger too. Tyler would’ve had no mercy and the naive little girl would have made herself a pig tailed target.
Not to mention that look in Enid’s eyes; tragically unaware of the fact that her exclusion was poorly disguised protection. Agnes hadn’t been the one with a grave stone impending.
She watches as Thing crawls next to her sleeping body, fingers lingering near her face. Like he doesn’t believe she’s breathing without feeling the air from her nostrils first. Wednesday wished she could tease him for being so sentimental.
“You’ve served me well. You should hold your wrist up in pride instead of sulking,” She quips to no one.
Or so she thought.
Like jinxing herself and the situation, who else appears out of thin air but—
“Oh my gosh!” Agnes gasps. Green eyes wide and hands at her chest as she pouts; meanwhile Thing nearly falls off the bed. She doesn’t know if he’s capacity for a heart attack, but he looks awful close. Regardless, Agnes catches him before he can fall. “Thing! What the hell happened? I just came from the police station—they’re putting the whole normie town on lockdown and no ones allowed off campus.”
Which of course begs the question of how she got there, but Wednesday chooses to blame her lack of foresight and bodily control at the moment. Along with taking in the information her all too willing subordinate had siphoned in her absence.
“I figured that you guys would need my help so I wasn’t far behind,” Agnes admits. “I decided to act when I saw the amount of sirens heading over. They grabbed a lot of the escapees already, actually—I was honestly shocked by the level of competence, but they’re still normies at the end of the day. So, I was in and out without a trace….”
Then she’s sauntering over to Wednesday’s bedside. Her expression somber and lip trembling, it makes purgatory Wednesday roll her eyes.
“Oh, Wednesday…so fierce, so brave and yet…so fragile…” Agnes coos at her, then sighs.
“Please, I’m suffering enough without dealing with my so called 'fan' at my wake.” Purgatory Wednesday complains, watching with thinly veiled disgust at the way the younger girl looks to reach out to touch her actual body.
Thankfully, another person makes their way into her hospital room. She’s beginning to wonder if this facility had any kind of security or if HIPAA was an after thought. Granted, at least this guest was a far more welcome one.
Enid.
She’s still alive. Enid had come to see her.
“Wednesday? Wednesday, oh my God—” Enid nearly trips over her own feet to get inside. Purgatory Wednesday’s eyes go wide and she nearly rushes forward to meet her roommate and check her for injury too. Only the werewolf girl stops in place at the sight she walks in on. Her brows knitting and mouth going into a thin line; claws already extended on one hand and a growl on back of her tongue. “Get away from her, you little creep!"
She elbows the red head aside to go inspect Wednesday's body.
"Oh my God--" She says it again, voice cracking and eyes frantic. Her nose twitches as the wolf whines in distress at the sight of her battered form. Then, she's whipping over and pointing at Agnes in accusation, "You--this is your fault somehow isn't it?"
Enid sneers at the younger girl who looks to not to be scared in the slightest. One might even call the look amused—much to Enid’s chagrin.
"I was helping her not blow her cover," Agnes corrects her very smugly and matter of fact. "I thought you were the one with 'sharp teeth and claws.'"
She mocks the werewolf girl, prompting Enid's eyes to flash dangerouly; her hand extends with claws and she goes to charge the defenseless girl. Thing, however, places himself between. He tugs on Enid’s sock, making the blonde look down at him and grumble to herself.
“Give me one good reason not to see how much I can wolf out on a half moon,” Enid asks rhetorically. Wednesday feels something like pride within at the gesture. At the reciprocation when it came to each other’s well being.
Now, if only she could make herself wake up and return the favor. It’ll soon be 2-0 and that just won’t do. Bad enough she's stuck in bed, utterly useless while her mind projects this 'form' or what have you. Or, maybe she truly was stuck somewhere between life and death.
Stuck listening to these two argue made her question if she's leaning towards somewhere below the pearly gates.
“Shouldn’t you be playing tonsil hockey with your boy toy, jock?” Agnes questions back, also rhetorical. At least Wednesday can only assume in her current state. Enid’s eyes narrow.
“Shouldn’t you be rolling out your mat for nap time?” Enid quips back, to which Wednesday sighs at how easily she takes Agnes’s silly bait. Juvenile teasing that had no real merit, but always served to leave the werewolf girl flustered and undoubtedly bothered. “Bruno is covering for me while I figure out what the hell Wednesday’s not telling me. Matter of fact…”
Enid brushes past Thing to corner Agnes into a wall, forcing the smaller girl to plant herself in the seat that sat against it. The blonde looks down at her with glowing eyes and both hands full of claws.
“You are gonna tell me everything you know. And quickly, before I have to call for a nurse.” Enid’s threats were eerily foreboding; Wednesday wished she was awake to call her bluff.
Something about the way Enid was ready to fight for her too. Without her askance. An unspoken catalyst to her reluctance to tell her roommate about her vision.
“I never asked you to do that.”
“Because you didn’t have to! Thats what friends do!”
Purgatory Wednesday feels her chest tighten.
Agnes hums, a finger going coyly to tap at her chin. “Well, if I’m such a annoying little kid, then…I’m not sure if I know much of anything.”
Enid growls. Directly in her face and loud enough that even Thing jumps back. Agnes only giggles about it, like she pressed a button on a toy.
“You ever think that maybe Wednesday just doesn’t want you to know what she’s doing?” The red head girl questions her, sliding from under her and out of the chair like a snake. Agnes holds her hands in front, looking to delight at the sudden air of uncertainty that flashes across Enid’s features. She grins wider, “You did kinda insert yourself into the plan—”
“I was getting pulled into Wednesday’s schemes while you were learning the alphabet, you little—ughhh,” Enid holds hands over her face as she groans in frustration.
“Don’t be jealous, its likely better this way,” Agnes tries to reassure. Her version of that, at least, as Enid looks just as irritated as she’s been since she noticed who else was in the room.
Enid scoffs, “How so?”
“You get to go off and live your life,” Agnes answers like its obvious. Her hands in front of her as her feet shift like she’s pivoting. “What was it you said? ‘I’m in my fun and freedom era!’ or whatever?”
Wednesday recalls a moment. Before they left for the asylum and Enid was spinning a version of the plan to an ever attentive Bruno. It was with something haughty in her chest she found the strength to ask. Agnes had looked up at her like she'd do it no matter what.
"If something happens to me and I become compromised in anyway," Wednesday had prompted. "You are not to reveal what I saw. By any means...her ignorance is her safety."
It was the last ace up her sleeve. In spades, while she held a hand full of hearts.
“I meant that for both of us,” Enid stresses, incredulous. Arms flailing, “Why wouldn’t I want that? Last semester was a literal nightmare. I still wake up sometimes wondering what would’ve happened out there if I hadn’t wolfed out in time. So, sue me for wanting to not spend at least the first week of classes dodging near death experiences!”
Its directed to Agnes, but Wednesday hears it all the same. Takes it plain, unsalted and raw. There was no fun or freedom when it came to being close to someone like Wednesday Addams. Her raven’s path made no room for it. Its a lonely road—Goody had told her so with her dying breath.
At the time when she wasn’t sure if Enid was still breathing. While her Lycan abilities where heightened, they were fresh. n
“For someone who claims to know Wednesday so well…one would think you’d know that this is an inevitability. Darkness, chaos and woe…thats what makes Wednesday, Wednesday.” Agnes explains dreamily, but the words don’t digest the way Enid’s do. No one else's attention ever did.
No one else's feelings ever found themselves on her list of things she has time for. At the moment she had a surplus of it and an Enid with emotion brewing in her expression that she could read from miles away. Not only due to proximity, but her undeniable fondness.
Angry, confused and a third thing she doesn’t want to give name to. Rather, she doesn’t know if she had the right. And even worse—she could call it mutual to something she's been feeling too.
“You don’t think I know that?” Enid defends, voice much softer. “She’s my best friend and my roommate.”
Wednesday finds herself leaning forward. She’s ‘standing’ between them, facing them facing each other. Hanging on Enid’s every word like that was the only thing tethering her mind to Earth.
And its your fate in my hands.
“And yet you remain so blissfully unaware. Although...” Agnes makes a face like shes thinking about something, “It…must be hard to see over Mr. tall, dark and furry, isn’t it?”
The younger girl plays her like a fiddle. Plucking strings like a maestro well beyond her years. Wednesday would be impressed, if not for this being yet another thing at Enid’s expense. Ironic, because the goal was to rile up Enid, but instead it forces Wednesday to think about her options. The fact that the clearest one had always been this; let the pack take care of her. Let him do what she can't--keep Enid safe.
Even when she’s sleeping, dead to the world and unmoving; she just can’t seem to stop hurting Enid.
Bruno...the same couldn't be said.
“Bruno and the pack have nothing to do with this,” Enid says dangerously. She stares Agnes down, “And you don’t know a damn thing about me and Wednesday’s relationship.”
Agnes hums, "Oh, but I do. I know more about her feelings than anyone. I studied them—I even labeled my notes by mood…”
Wednesday's eyes widen and she's briefly nervous that her would-be stalker had noticed more than she had been privy to.
“You’re unwell,” Enid shakes her head in disbelief and disgust.
“I care,” Agnes corrects her. “And because I care, I think its best you let me take the reins from here.”
You could hear a pin drop onto a pile of feathers.
“I’m sorry—actually, I’m not, but what the hell do you mean by that?” Enid looks to want to laugh in her face. Wednesday feels her nails dig into her palms at the fact that she can’t speak for herself at the moment. Can’t correct the faux statements made by her make shift ‘minion’ that she’s beginning to regret indulging. “I’m part of this too. And I’m sure your little notes are all organized and highlighted or whatever, but you weren’t there! You don't know what Tyler is capable of--and now he's on the loose and probably looking for a round two."
Enid’s eyes flicker over to her body. She shoulder checks Agnes on the way to finally approach her. Eyes dart over the cuts and bruising around her face. A hand hesitates, before gripping the handles on the bed side.
“They say if you truly love something, you should set it free…” Agnes segues. She has her hands behind her back as she waltzes up to an Enid with much less bravado than before. “I’ll take good care of her. And you can go live out your wildest dreams as the most popular fur in school. And some eye candy to boot.”
Wednesday wished she could spring up from the bed and say…something. Anything.
The conflict in Enid’s gaze somehow hurts more than anything else on her body right now.
“I-I can’t do that. I could never just—“ Enid laughs humorlessly at the very thought. “Wednesday is…a lot of things. Brooding, stubborn and so eerily quiet sometimes I forget she’s in the room and scare myself.”
This time her laugh has a bit more air to it. Light and real.
“But…we work. Even when my powers weren’t. And when everyone else was happy to look past me so long as I wrote something nice on my blog, or piled on so many accolades I barely had time for my actual homework.” Enid shakes her head, looking down at her face. The gauze wrapped around her skull. The sound of plastic cracking, before Enid wretches her hands away. “Wednesday was there for me when a lot of other people weren’t. I can’t walk out there and act like my life is perfect when I know she’s in here.”
Wednesday didn’t often know what to do when Enid cried. Even less so in this state. She just knew that regardless she hated being the cause. Despised it, actually.
“Loyal like a dog too,” Agnes quips. Before Enid can retort, she continues, “No wonder she’s risking her neck for you.”
Wednesday wished she had access to that infamous duct tape right about now. Agnes was dangling a lure with stolen bait.
She glares at the red head, “Don’t!”
But, what she wants isn’t a factor here. Hadn’t been for a while.
“Wha—what are you talking about?” Enid questions with furrowed brows and confused frown. And Agnes has audacity to shrug.
“Not my place to say. I just know the sentiment is incredibly mutual, even though I can’t imagine why.” Agnes gives Enid an empty looking appraisal, to the werewolf’s annoyance. “Point is—Wednesday is an extremely devoted person when she sees something she wants. Its part of what I admire so much about her—she cares to the point of obsession. And I can definitely relate.”
Wednesday's happy to not be seen in that moment, if not only because she feels properly flustered by the accuracy of that particular observation. Never would she ever admit to it, though. Even if the little thief appears to have gotten into some of her more personal notes as of late...
“What does that have to do with me?” Enid looks incredulous, processing the younger girl’s words without Wednesday’s filter of apathy. Unknowingly driving purgatory Wednesday to a new level of insanity as she watches her hastily crafted plan shatter to even smaller pieces.
Broken as her body. This illusion that Wednesday simply didn’t care about other people without a means to an end.
“You need it spelled out for you?” Agnes almost laughs in her face. “Why else do you think she’d be so desperate to keep you away from the very same Hyde you put behind bars? Some people don’t handle the whole solitary confinement thing well…one might even say they’d have a vendetta.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Enid shakes her head. She looks more confused than not, mixed with anger and something more. “I-I have control over my wolf now—I should’ve been her first choice!”
“Well, its no use crying over being picked last now,” Agnes counters. “Not if we want to keep her safe.”
Enid openly scoffs at that. “I’m sorry, are we speaking French now? There’s no ‘we’ here,” she retorts sardonically.
“There will be if you want access to more of what she was keeping you in the dark about.” Agnes smirks mischievously as she sings out her barter. Wednesday would ring her neck right about now if she could.
This was not part of the plan.
“Because holding more information over me is really the thing you wanna do right now?” Enid counters, rightfully skeptical.
“Its what Wednesday wants,” Agnes shrugs easily, as if she hadn't been just pushing for otherwise. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
The redhead crossed her fingers like a girl scout and Enid rolls her eyes.
“Then how the hell am I supposed to help?”
You're supposed to be back in the dorm right now. You need to stay away from me.
“She told me not to say anything, but she didn’t tell me I couldn’t point you in the right direction…” Agnes trails coyly. “I have a fair bit of dirt I stole from the Galpin house back at the dorms. And I know where Wednesday keeps her personal annotations.”
Purgatory Wednesday finds herself deeply unsettled by multiple things. She would need to change the lock and steal some electricity from Pugsley when she awakes.
On top of the fact that this was the very thing she had been trying to avoid. Desperately so and nearly at cost of her own life.
“I can help you retrieve it,” Agnes offers very smugly. Enid rolls her eyes, but doesn’t look very keen to leave. If the way she keeps looking over at her body like she’d somehow disappear meant anything.
“Just be quick and don’t get caught, rookie,” Enid quips with crossed arms. Agnes hesitates, though, brow raising at the clear implication that Enid was making no attempt to follow. The older girl stubbornly decides, “I’ll catch up with you later. It’ll look less suspicious if we’re not together…and stay out of my clothes!”
The redhead looked dubious, but the last bit just makes her giggle.
“You won’t even know I was there.”
Enid makes sure she sees the girl leave the room before she shuts it tight. Not locked of course, but assuring herself that the girl couldn’t magically slink back in silently.
“Little home wrecking, roommate stealing freak…” Enid murmurs angrily. “I can’t believe thats who I’m being replaced with.”
She scoffs, hand going up in exasperation before slapping against her pant leg. Purgatory Wednesday cringes, same as she did at the implication she didn’t want to be friends anymore. As if Wednesday didn’t want so much more, but had been fated to be this omen of death. Something she’s always wanted, but not without with the reins.
Not out her control, far out of her wing span.
Thing tries. He does more than she’d ever give him credit. Tells Enid that she’s irreplaceable. Something she detests even being brought into question. Wednesday didn’t like to repeat herself.
“The mark you left on me was indelible."
She hadn't meant that lightly. She could hear Enid's laugh in the way breeze tickled wild flowers in the grass. See her when she closed her eyes to the sun.
“Well, what else do you call the fact that I’ve barely spent any time alone with her even though we literally sleep next to each other every night?” Enid counters. “After everything! And the fact that she wasn’t even gonna tell me—plus Tyler? Imagine if she had gone completely alone…”
“I had to keep you safe,” Purgatory Wednesday declares, voice echoing to nothingness. She couldn't hear it. She wants so badly to wake up. To grab her roommate and lock her away in a bunker for a reason other than torture for the first time in her life. “You should’ve listened to Agnes. I can’t protect you like this.”
She looks to her own shattered body; remembers she’s mostly human. Unlike the werewolf boy that waited for one of them back at the dorms. Strong, a hunter, safe.
“You need to go back to him. Tyler will come for you next.”
Enid wipes at her eyes with heel of her hand.
“Figures…the only time I can get you pay attention to me nowadays is like this.” She can’t account for the tears that follow. The words feel like the fatal blow she’d narrowly avoided. Enid’s lip trembles, “And you still can’t look me in the eye.”
Wednesday watches on with baited breath. If only she knew why. The fact that if she looks at Enid for too long she finds herself back at her grave. The most unsettled she’s ever been at a funeral.
“You’re better off…” Wednesday whispers.
“I miss you. So freaking much,” Enid laments. “The other day Bruno took me to this spot in the woods that the furs all left claw marks on this rock formation. You probably would’ve thought it was corny as hell, but I kept wishing you were there anyway.”
The heart monitor beats. Enid still can’t see her. Only what lay idle beneath a thin blanket and IVs.
“I would only dampen your good time,” Wednesday counters. Stands over Enid who crouched next to the real her. Longed to do something fruitless and foolish, like reach out and touch. “I’d continue to ruin you—your fun…your life.”
Go back to him. Wednesday was short of falling to her knees to beg. Let him protect you.
“Its funny in a way…I finally get everything I wanted, but I still can’t help but ask for a little bit more.” Enid muses with a sniff. She looks to Thing who had been letting them have their moment. Then back to her comatose body. “Maybe I’m selfish. You’ll probably wake up and tell me to go back to the dorm. Tell me I’m meddling in your investigation and I don’t understand. But…until then, I can pretend.”
Enid had always been far braver than her. More willing to go out of her way. She reaches for Wednesday’s hand, locked across her chest like a corpse; the only sign of normalcy to her form. Like a petal blooming, she feels the pressure of her fingers peeling back. Delicate touch as their fingers are linked.
Wednesday can feel it. Warmth in this cold, desolate purgatory.
“Even worse,” Wednesday murmurs. “I’d have to keep lying to you. Because, I want you to stay.”
Enid runs her thumb over back of her hand. Feels the pulse inside her wrist and eyes the faint cuts from broken glass.
“I don’t know if I could ever force myself to stay away from you,” Enid whispers. “I mean, the pack has been great. They’re only ever a text away. And Bruno, he’s…he’s been really nice. Understanding, cute, attentive and always there. I don’t even have to call him half the time. He just knows—like he sniffs me out.”
And that shouldn’t settle the way it does in her gut. Like she’s overdone it with the rat poison in her coffee. Like indigestion—something that rivaled the way she felt watching her parents caress. Only, her parents never made her feel anything close to this insolent emotion of envy.
Of knowing someone out there can do and have something she can’t.
“But, its not…” Enid hesitates, biting her lip and choosing her words. Looks nervous, even though theres no one else in the room but Thing. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be on a date and all I can think about is whether or not you’ll be awake when I get back so we can talk about it. Or, the way I can see you in the back of my head rolling your eyes at the pack frisbee tournament we had the other day. Or-or last night with me and Bruno…we were kissing and it was good, but I then kept—“
Enid stops herself and makes a face. A strange one, strained and flustered.
“I can’t think straight when I know you’re not ok,” Enid admits. “And my wolf has been screaming at me…it smelled the same way it did in the woods. Like last semester—iron. Your blood. A lot of it. Too much…”
She holds up her free hand, seeing her claws extending against her will. The muscles beneath the skin thrumming. Her breaths pick up and Enid’s eyes clothes and she groans with effort. Wednesday watches with intrigue and concern at the way the wolf appeared to be battling for control of herself.
“Just knowing he’s out there after he did this to you…” Enid had fire in her eyes. And Wednesday knew that even if she was awake she couldn’t stop her. Her claws extend into talons the length of swords, “I’m going to repay the favor. He better hope he can make it to the hospital when I’m done with him.”
Wednesday feels pressure in her head. In tandem with the heart monitor’s beeping; it collects in the corner of her eyes. It falls swift, then all at once. She takes advantage in not being seen and allows another.
Tears. Something she’s sworn off, yet can’t seem to get away from. Not even her own.
Better me than you.
She urged to say it out loud.
“I didn’t want this.” She knows the world is cruel and life isn’t fair, but for a moment she felt like she could stay a step ahead of that. Turns out she playing into its hands—right in time. “Enid, please—“
“Thing, stay here. Promise me that if anything happens you’ll call me.” She leans down and links pinkies with the limb. Thing shares worries similar to her own, but Enid gives him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I have sharp teeth and claws, remember? Besides, I’m not going in alone—this time I have a pack. And a red headed pain in the ass that apparently knows about Hydes.”
Thing makes a shrugging gesture, before holding Enid's hand in something akin to a hug. Wednesday feels hollow.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be ok..." Enid reassures, unknowing. And Thing, looks to take every stitch in his palm not to spill her secrets. Just tells her to promise to return, because 'Wednesday would never forgive.'
And she wouldn't.
When Enid leaves her hospital room, a final smile tossed over her shoulder. Before naively going to face the Hyde.
She's not one person to blame but herself.