Chapter Text
Three days.
Three long, never ending, agonizing days. Three days that would very soon turn into a fourth, the red evening Sun slowly dipping behind the dark shadows of the Vermont mountains. Enid had expected it when the nurse softly knocked her knuckles against the doorframe of the hospital room. She didn't look up, blue eyes glued to Wednesday's stubbornly slack features, paler than ever and so unusually peaceful, it was almost unnerving.
During those three soon to be four days, the Raven hadn't moved a muscle. The doctors kept reassuring the family — but especially Enid — that she needed the rest, that this was normal and that her vitals had stabilized after that first awful when when she'd kept slipping into cardiac arrest. Not enough blood they'd said. One successful transfusion later and no more incidents. Enid should be grateful, should be relieved by the lack of excitement, but she'd never known Wednesday to sit still, ever. The girl was surprisingly animated for someone with the baseline constitution of a corpse.
Especially floating in that hospital gown.
“Enid,” the soft, concerned voice of the nurse finally earned her the briefest glance from the Werewolf, only a quick flutter though as she returned her full attention to Wednesday not a moment later. “Honey, visitation hours are almost over.”
Enid nodded, sending the nurse —Jessie, she remembered — the smallest smile of reassurance.
“I'll be right out,” she added in an effort to buy just a few more minutes with her best friend, just a little longer before she was sent back to her empty dorm room to toss and turn until morning's reprieve.
Jessie seemed skeptical, but said nothing, turning away with a polite smile of her own and vacating the room. Once again, Wednesday and Enid were alone.
“You know,” Enid sighed, “I never really thought your recklessness would ever actually catch up to you.”
As she spoke, the blonde carefully tucked Wednesday's ruffled bangs away from the pastiness of her forehead, making sure to smooth any stray hairs down, back into their usual, pristine appearance. The medical staff had severely messed up the Raven's braids when they'd rushed to tuck her bloodied hair in a bonnet before emergency surgery. Morticia had spent the many, many hours following the procedure with her daughter, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as though she were comforting a fragile child. Her long, slender fingers had tenderly stroked every strand of inkwell locks back into a manageable shape before slowly, methodically braiding them back into the neat hairstyle Wednesday religiously maintained. Enid had watched, silently tucked between Gomez Addams and Pugsley as the former quietly mumbled to himself in Spanish, hands clasped tight, and the latter fiddled with one of his sister's pocket knives. To Enid, they had both looked like they were praying in their own way.
As her vision had blurred with unshed tears, Enid's mind had wandered to her own mother, fretting over her like a headless hen, looking her up and down after Taylor's mutilation less like she was assessing the extent of the damage and more like she was evaluating how much of it would be visible. She hadn't allowed Enid to wear any crop tops over the summer, reminding her at every turn how ghastly a sight her midriff had become. Not to mention her back. One would think that finally wolfing out would've thawed Esther Sinclair's stone cold heart, if even by a few degrees, but there didn't seem to be any cure for disappointing daughters.
When the Addams’ had driven her back to Nevermore that night, all of them piling in the back of the family hearse with Pugsley clinging to Gomez and Enid sitting ramrod straight next to Morticia, the older woman had silently slipped an arm around Enid's shoulders, a gentle tug, an invitation for comfort. Enid had crumbled then, the haunting image of Wednesday laying cold on the pavement of Willow Hill flashing through her mind along with their hug after Crackstone's attack the year prior and Esther's mortified expression. Morticia hadn't said a word, simply holding her tight as she’d wept in the stoic woman's should, her warmth so very similar to Wednesday's.
After that faithful night, Enid had visited her friend every single day after school. No one had to bother to ask where she was going, she usually left with Pugsley or met the family at the entrance of the schoolyard, the Addams’ hearse quietly rumbling, patiently waiting for her to join them. Enid hadn't asked and the Addams' hadn't offered, yet somehow, the blonde hadn't been surprised at all when Morticia's hand had waved her over from the passenger side window.
Today was the first day that Enid had been left alone with Wednesday as Morticia had had to leave early to deal with the incessantly growing fundraiser anxieties of principle Dort. How the woman was able to humour that weasel in these circumstances, Enid would never know. She supposed she had patience neither Wednesday nor herself had had the chance to develop yet. When Mortician had left earlier, Gomez had offered to bring Enid and Pugsley to a nearby diner for dinner before dropping them off at school, claiming that getting out a bit would be good for all of them. Enid had declined, the thought of voluntarily leaving Wednesday's side enough to have her intestines twisting into impossible knots. Gomez had smiled at her knowingly, crooked teeth peaking from beneath his moustache, and ushered Pugsley out of the room, claiming that the girls needed some alone time when the boy had protested.
And so there Enid was, talking to Wednesday alone, hoping the Raven could hear her, that she would finally open her eyes and dryly remark on the blonde’s poor state of dress and lack of makeup. Oh, how she missed her underhanded compliments. She never realized just how much they meant to her until right now.
"Enid?"
Enid startled, quickly retracting her hand from where it had settled against Wednesday's cheek as she turned to meet whoever had called her name from the doorway with a scowl. That scowl dropped when she recognized the tan skin and curly hair of the broad shouldered guy blocking half the entrance.
"Bruno!" Enid squeaked, standing from her uncomfortable hospital chair for the first time in hours. "What are you doing here?"
"Thing said that you wouldn't have a ride back so I figured I’d help out," Bruno replied with a kind smile, pushing himself off of the doorframe and taking a few steps into the room.
Somehow, those few steps forward felt like a few steps too much and Enid’s pleasant surprise suddenly morphed into an instinctive protectiveness she wasn’t aware of until then. This was their space, hers and Wednesday's. He was trespassing. The blonde quickly shook off the thought, surprised and slightly unsettled by her sudden instincts. Bruno was just being nice, trying to be helpful. There were no reasons for her to feel so attacked by him like that.
She was grateful for the ride home.
"Thank you," Enid said after a beat too long, forcing a smile when Bruno frowned slightly.
"You okay, E?"
"Yeah," Enid quickly replied, gathering her stuff as an excuse to stop looking her boyfriend in the eye. "I’m okay."
Bruno didn't question it, the angel that he was. Somehow, guilt slowly began bubbling up Enid's oesophagus at the show of respect. She had been pretty distant lately, barely sparing the guy a good night text since Wednesday had been hospitalized. She wasn't avoiding him, per say. She was just worried for her friend. Yeah, not avoiding. Not after Ajax. Enid was past that. She was better.
"Okay," the blonde huffed as she shouldered her packed bag, turning to face Bruno still patiently standing near the door. "Ready to go?"
"Only if you are," he replied with that warm, stupid smile of his.
Enid nodded, too tense, before turning to Wednesday one last time, squeezing her hand goodbye. As she followed Bruno back out of the recovery wing, she sent a polite wave in Jessie's direction, the woman returning it in kind from her seat at the nurses’ station. It never felt good leaving Wednesday behind, but Enid kept telling herself that she was in good hands, that the doctors were taking good care of her. Not that it helped much at all.
As the two teens made their way to Bruno's beaten up Chevy Silverado — ‘A hand me down from by brother,’ he'd told her once — the silence they'd unwittingly slipped into remained unbroken, the older werewolf seemingly sensing that Enid was in no mood for small talk. His thoughtfulness in this moment, the same thoughtfulness Enid had been going goo goo ga ga for since they'd met at summer camp, was somehow impossibly grating in this moment. It felt as though he was walking on eggshells around her, treating her like a fragile thing as though she hadn't just seen her best friend fall out a second story window right in front of her. It was getting on her nerves. Enid took a few deep breaths as she roughly settled into the passenger seat, reminding herself Bruno was just trying to be mindful, that he was trying to help. But all she could see behind her eyelids was Wednesday's bloodied body being wheeled away on a bright orange stretcher.
"Hey, so," Bruno said tentatively as he climbed behind the wheel, closing his door much softer than usual. "I was thinking maybe we could go grab some dinner on the way back?"
"What?" Enid asked after a few moments of surprised silence, feeling dumb as a rock as her mind tried to catch up with what Bruno was telling her.
"Yeah like, grab a burger or something," the boy scrambled to justify himself, fingers thrumming on the steering wheel. "You must be hungry and we haven't gone out in a little bit sooo..." he trailed off, sending Enid a soft smile that was not nearly soft enough to mask his obvious concern.
"You want to go on a date?” Enid huffed, incredulous, feeling annoyance quickly clawing up the back of her neck. “Now?”
“I mean, why not?” Bruno retorted, defensiveness seeping in his tone as he twisted to face Enid. “I haven’t seen you in days, E. I’m worried about you.”
“And I’m worried about Wednesday!” Enid replied ferociously, feeling more than hearing her own voice rise with her anger. “My best friend was nearly killed by a psychotic monster.”
“I know, I know,” Bruno placated then, hands raised in surrender. “I’m sorry. I just… I thought it would be nice, you know?”
Enid sighed, all her annoyance quickly melting back into guilt as she looked into those sad puppy brown eyes. Of course Bruno wanted to take her out, it was their first time seeing each other face to face since Wednesday had been hospitalized. Her boyfriend was worried about her. Of course he wanted to pamper her, to take care of her. He was so kind, so nice, it almost hurt to look at him so beaten down, thinking he’d stepped over a non-existent line. Enid brought the base of her palms up to press against her swollen eyes, desperately trying to stop the tears she could feel slowly welling there.
“No, no I’m sorry,” she mumbled, furiously rubbing at her nose when her palms came back wet. “I’m really out of it.”
“Hey it’s okay,” Bruno hushed her, gentle as a breeze. “I get it.”
“Do you?” Enid laughed, humourless, trying not to cringe away from his touch as he slowly reached out to wipe the tears off her cheeks with the rough pad of his thumb.
“I try,” he replied with that same, dashing smile, toothy grin so much brighter than Wednesday’s, yet not nearly as warm. So kind, so nice.
Enid sighed again, giving the tiniest nod in lieu of an answer as she couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t be antagonistic or worse, accusatory. Her mother’s face flashed at the back of her mind again, all sharp tongue and even sharper glare. Enid didn’t want to end up like that, didn’t want to speak with the sole purpose of inflicting hurt, not now, not ever. And so, she stayed quiet.
“Okay,” Bruno filled the silence as he reached to start the stuttering engine with a twist of the wrist. “Let’s grab burgers another time, yeah?”
Enid simply nodded again, biting her tongue against the headache she could feel building at the base of her skull. She watched the scenery roll by as they pulled out of the empty hospital parking lot, soon on their way back to a school that suddenly felt much too empty and much too dull without her roommate to fill its halls.
***
It was another two days before Wednesday finally, finally regained consciousness.
Enid was trapped in the middle of their English Literature period, desperately trying to pretend to pay attention to their professor as she kept gushing about way too many dead guys — Enid remembered Wednesday making those lessons seem ten times more interesting than they actually were whenever they went over them together— when Pugsley noisily stumbled into the lecture hall, barely catching himself against the door frame. Enid ignored the teacher’s blubbering protests as she stood, lighting fast, her shaking hands quickly gathering her books without a single word needing to leave poor Pugsley’s mouth. She just knew, as surely as she knew the sun would set on this day, that Wednesday was awake. She wasn’t about to waste time with formalities when her best friend needed her by her side.
“Come on,” Enid huffed, grabbing the heaving boy’s collar on her way out as he struggled to catch his breath, letting himself get dragged to the parked hearse like he was used to it.
Gomez was sitting there, silent, but his hands were clasped in a hold so tight it looked like it might bruise. As soon as Enid settled in front of him, his brows, perpetually furrowed, relaxed the tiniest bit, a shy grin lighting up his features as dark eyes met hers. She saw so much of Wednesday in them.
“Ah, dearest Enid,” he said, putting a kind hand on her knee, heavy and warm just like her own father’s. “This is a joyous day.”
“Where is Morticia?” Enid asked as the car quickly sped away from the school, twisting and turning violently on its way to the hospital.
“Not to worry,” Gomez replied, shifting his hand from her knee to instead clasp around his son’s scrawny shoulders. “She’s already with our little bombita.”
Enid sighed in relief, impossibly glad that Wednesday hadn’t been alone when she’d opened her eyes for the first time in a week. The blonde returned Gomez’s reassuring smile, shifting to look out the window and spotting the road sign saying ‘Jericho Hospital - 3 Miles’ zooming past them way too quickly. Lurch was driving at a break neck speed, one which would’ve had Enid in tears any other day, but in that moment, nothing was too far over the speed limit if it meant getting to Wednesday as soon as possible. She decided not to linger on why her heart was beating so fast or why her palms felt so sweaty, simply wiping them on the crumpled fabric of her purple striped uniform skirt as she forced herself to relax.
Wednesday was okay, she was awake, she was okay… on and on.
It didn’t take long for the brutalist structure of the hospital to come into view, standing tall and grey against the blindingly blue sky. Ironic that Wednesday chose the sunniest day of that particular week to come out of her Hyde induced hibernation. Neither Gomez nor Pugsley said anything when Enid pushed the door of the hearse open, ignoring Lurch’s disapproving grunt as she ran inside. She quickly waved to the receptionist on her way in before bolting past, hearing the poor woman sigh and type up her name on the visitor’s list as she had done all week long, not bothering to try and stop her.
Enid’s legs felt like jelly, every single one of her nerve endings tingling with anticipation as her blood rushed loud in her ears, the rhythmic thumping of her footsteps keeping pace with her frenetic heartbeats. It was overwhelming, it was exhilarating, it was the first time in days that Enid had felt any kind of excitement. She’d missed her friend. Missed her so much. She’d told Bruno when they had been chained together in Iago tower, that she couldn’t imagine her life without Wednesday in it. As Enid finally burst into the girl’s room — a room which had started to feel like a bubble, a cocoon just for them, against the rest of the world — and locked eyes with her roommate, she finally realized just how true that simple statement had been. How unbearably monumental.
Until then she hadn’t allowed herself to imagine what would’ve happened if Wednesday hadn’t made it. Now that Enid knew she was undeniably safe, staring into the infinite depth of Wednesday’s obsidian eyes, she realized that a part of her would’ve unquestionably died alongside the Raven had the worse come to pass. It was nearly too much to hold inside, her ribs straining against every inhale. She hadn’t even realized her eyes were wet until the image of Wednesday, ramrod straight even when laying down in those sterile, white sheets, wobbled and blurred behind unshed tears.
“Wednesday,” Enid breathed, quiet. So, so quiet as her voice broke in the silence. Still, she knew Wednesday heard her. She always did.
“Enid.”
Wednesday’s voice was rough, gravelly in a way that was so different from anything Enid had heard from her before, as though the very fabric of her vocal folds had been turned to stone. It was frightening how foreign a sound it was, yet the blonde still recognized the smallest of inflections in it, one she always heard in Wednesday’s tone whenever she didn’t want to admit that she was relieved. As though one of her horrible and twisted predictions hadn’t come to pass and that it was, exceptionally, for the better this time. Enid struggled to understand what that tone meant in this moment, the two of them seemingly frozen beyond time, both desperately trying to shake off the sense that something they cared about had nearly slipped through their fingers. This too, felt unbearably monumental.
“Wednesday!” Pugsley’s pubescent voice cracked throughout the room, breaking the tension of the moment like sharpened sheers cutting through a spiderweb.
The boy barrelled past Enid to throw his pudgy arms around his sister’s neck, mindful of her injuries despite his excitement. Wednesday still winced, finally breaking her spellbinding eye contact with Enid and the blonde suddenly felt like she could breathe again, absentmindedly bringing a hand up to her chest, chasing this phantom pressure with a frown. It is then that she finally noticed Morticia, previously invisible to her, sitting quietly on that same chair Enid had been occupying for days. Her back was straight as ever, a picture of pure elegance, and even her arm, twisted awkwardly to allow for a delicate hand to rest on her daughter's wrist, seemed to fit perfectly within this beautiful tableau. But her eyes, her eyes weren’t delicate at all. They were strong, leadened with the weight of some unknown secret, their gaze piercing as they seemed to scrutinize Enid all the way through to her bones, turning her inside out like a sock. It was gone in an instant, the woman’s severe expression lighting up instead with a stretch of her mysterious smile and a beckoning hand inviting Enid to come closer.
However, Gomez quickly jaunted past the blonde before she had the chance to obey, seemingly oblivious to the freshly molten lead Enid could feel pouring down her extremities, slowing her with the weight of an invitation that somehow felt so much more intimate than it should. Enid quickly shook off the feeling, blaming her fatigue and emotional state, before plastering on a wobbly smile, watching as Gomez quickly joined his daughter's bedside, laying a tender kiss on her temple which Wednesday shrugged off with a glare.
"You gave us quite a fright, my little viper."
"Your worry is as unfounded as it is insulting, father," Wednesday replied dismissively, glaring at Gomez and Pugsley in kind, the latter still hanging off of her neck. It was a wonder she hadn’t attempted barehanded amputation yet. She was either feeling generous in her leniency considering the circumstances, or couldn’t move well enough to make such an attempt. The latter option had Enid’s stomach twisting in worry.
"Ah, mija," Gomez exclaimed with one last press of the forehead. "There will never come a time when your mother and I won't worry about you."
"No one knows how to torture me quite like you, sis," Pugsley added before finally letting go, smiling through his sister's muttered threats before taking a seat next to his mother and father.
That left only Enid, still just standing there like a complete idiot. All eyes were suddenly on her as Gomez and Pugsley huddled around Morticia, and for the first time since she started visiting Wednesday, she felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone was quiet, the soft beeping of Wednesday’s ECG peppering the silence with a comforting rhythm, and though Enid usually didn’t get stage fright, the Addams family was certainly one hell of an audience.
“Enid,” Wednesday’s gravelly voice broke the silence, almost hesitant, a sound that didn’t suit her at all.
Somehow, that single word, her name, spoken with that hint of worry, was enough to shake Enid from her stupor. All at once, that frenetic energy that had carried her to the room returned, and with a single, ugly sob, Enid threw herself forward, scrambling toward her roommate and stopping just short of collapsing onto her. She didn’t reach out, didn’t move to touch the Raven at all knowing that that particular aversion of hers was one she seldom made exceptions for, but she didn’t even have to. Wednesday raised a shaking hand herself, bandages covering the IV line snaking from the top of it, to clasp the blonde’s wrist in a hold so tight, Enid felt her fingers numbing. She didn’t complain though. If losing a hand was the price she had to pay to feel the warmth radiating from Wednesday’s skin, unequivocal proof that she was alive, that she was okay, that she was awake, then so be it.
“You scared the shit out of me, Addams,” Enid huffed in a trembling voice, holding back the tears she knew to be building behind her eyelids.
Wednesday didn’t say anything, her hand instead continuing to grind around Enid’s wrist, eyes bulging as she watched the pale flesh there redden, almost as though she was, in her own way, trying to make sure that Enid was really there and not some figment of her fevered imagination. The blonde let her, pain and warmth mingling under Wednesday’s touch in an oddly comforting cocktail. The tightness in her chest, the twist in her gut, it was still there, though in this moment, the two of them finally reunited, it all seemed to docilely melt into the background.
***
After about an hour of confusing pleasantries that Wednesday seemed painfully resigned to and Enid had to force herself to follow, the two girls were left alone for the first time that day. Morticia had claimed that she was famished, somehow wrangling Pugsley and her husband to come along, citing that she would be lonely without them and that Enid was perfectly capable of keeping an eye on Wednesday in their absence. It would've all been well and good but for the scrambling of Enid's insides and the small, mysterious smile Morticia levelled at her when the trio left.
Silence was now their companion, smothering Enid and Wednesday like too thick of a blanket during a summer night. It was as if Wednesday hadn't even woken at all, laying perfectly still on her back, arms crossed over her chest rigidly. Enid couldn't help but notice that the position looked a lot more like she was holding onto herself rather than the peaceful rest of a body in a casket she was trying to emulate. It was a painful sight, one that brought her right back to the night of the attack on Nevermore, last semester. Enid remembered both of them sharing a room in the nurse's office, Wednesday having been categorical in her refusal to let Enid out of her sight. They had both gone to bed bandaged and medicated, yet no amount of antiseptics and painkillers had been enough to knock them out. So they had talked. Whispers and soft, fleeting touches exchanged in the dark.
It had been only an hour or so before first light when Wednesday had confessed to her friend how close her brush with death had truly been, how without a benevolent ancestor as her guide, she might not have made it out of that crypt. And Enid, emboldened by the raw vulnerability, had shared in turn that without her lycan healing abilities, she most likely would've fallen under Tyler's claws. Wednesday hadn't answered anything, she'd simply grabbed her wrist, holding on tight till morning. Not too dissimilar to how she was holding onto it in the present moment, though this time in the imposing hospital at the edge of Jericho. It was odd, how scared Wednesday looked just then. Enid hadn't been the one to confront death a second time that week. Yet Wednesday hadn't let go and the blonde was too scared to ask why. So she let it be, letting herself fall into the silence like it was an old friend.
Wednesday was okay, she was awake, she was okay, she was awake, she was...
"You are uncharacteristically quiet," Wednesday mumbled, looking away in little flutters as though she was embarrassed to be the first to speak.
That pulled a smile out of Enid, small and shy. She couldn't believe that even with her dark features and even darker eyes, the Raven still managed to be adorable at times. The thought was comical, the little thrill it sent down her spine was not. She cleared her throat.
"I'm just thinking," Enid replied, unhelpful as ever, flexing her fingers which were still struggling for blood under Wednesday's unrelenting grip absentmindedly.
The Raven hummed, though she sounded rather displeased by the vague answer. Enid didn't add anything more, simply raising an encouraging eyebrow as her fond smile turned teasing, preparing herself for the inevitable game of tongue and cheek she felt brewing between them. It was a small relief, a respite from her own, torturous thoughts. A return to some form of normalcy which they had been lacking, even before the week’s incident.
"Don't make me ask, Sinclair," Wednesday grumbled, eyes tightening into a squint.
"Ask what?" Enid batted her lashes innocently, propping her chin onto her free hand before adding, “Does the Wednesday Addams care to ask about my thoughts?"
Enid had expected her roommate's glare to sharpen, for a snide rebuttal or clever deflection to come out of her mouth like it always did, for whatever this tension was between them to break and let them be normal. But once again, Wednesday gave her nothing in the way of words, only a sigh as the darkness in her eyes seemed to deepen impossibly further, two abysses of endless proportions staring her down with a gaze Enid didn't recognize, and all at once, her relief morphed into worry.
"Wednesday?"
"How long was I out?" The Raven asked suddenly, her tone shifting from uncharacteristically soft to her usual hardened, matter-of-factness, which only made Enid's frown deepen.
"What?" the blonde breathed, an uneasy feeling stirring in her stomach at the thought of having to be the one to tell her friend such things. Hadn't the Doctors chatted with her and her mom before they arrived?
"They only mentioned I was on my way to rehabilitation and that I had to stay the week to make sure I wouldn't get an infection," Wednesday supplied as if reading the other's mind.
"Shouldn't your parents be the ones to tell?" Enid deflected, wiping her palms on her skirt again, the mindless motion causing the hold Wednesday had on her wrist to break for the first time in hours. It was startling how quickly the blonde's skin turned cold.
"We both know they won’t," the Raven countered. "Besides, I want to hear it from you. How long was I unconscious, Enid?"
The blonde sighed, raking her palms down her face a few times, barely giving a second thought to the light eyeshadow she was no doubt smudging in her exasperation. She was reluctant to say, the strong protectiveness she'd come to associate with her friend over their past week in the hospital warming her cheeks. It didn't feel right to be the one to answer her, but Wednesday wanted to know and she was in no position to deny her. Still, it didn't feel good when she finally answered.
"A week. You were in here a whole week."
"I see," Wednesday nodded, seemingly not the least bit surprised or even particularly upset by the answer, simply filing it away as another piece of information. "And Tyler?"
The name alone was enough to send a shiver of fear and spite down Enid’s spine, all those memories that had been haunting her the past few hours, the past few days, the past few months, coming back in full force, having her shrink back in her chair. It took a few, long seconds for Enid to finally clear the fog, to realize that Wednesday was asking her about the Hyde’s whereabouts, and all of the sudden, the blonde was thrown forward once more, anger boiling up to the surface. Of course, the case. It was what came first, after all. Wednesday didn’t care to ask about the school she’d missed or who might’ve visited while she was out of commission. It was always about the next step, the next place, the next gash she could dig her fingers into and prod for information.
It was never about anyone at all other than her suspects or her puppets, even after yet another near death experience. Even if it had to happen all over again.
"I don't know, Wednesday, rampaging?” Enid answered through clenched teeth, squeezing her hands together in an attempt to calm the itching of her nail beds.
Wednesday’s previously stoic features morphed into a frown, her eyes which up until then had been glued to Enid’s now frantically taking stock of every micro expression cycling on the blonde’s reddening face. Enid was usually amused by that particular habit of hers, taking some modicum of pride in being able to throw the usually picture perfect Wednesday Addams off her game. Not this time. This time, she was damn near furious.
Wednesday must’ve noticed as much, because her frown only deepened, her shoulders, previously lax, now tensing in discomfort.
"You're upset," the Raven said with a cock of the head, as though that revelation came as a complete surprise. It only added fuel to the fire.
“Of course I'm upset!” Enid snapped, standing from the plastic chair so fast it rattled to the ground. The ruckus it made in the unbearably silent room barely registered to her ears as she continued, “I've been worried sick about you, worried you wouldn't wake up again,” the blonde brought a hand to her wrist, the forming bruise there aching in a way that no longer felt grounding. “And now you're awake, you're okay, and the first thing you wanna do is jump right back into the line of fire?"
That last part was ripped out of Enid’s throat by a resentful hand she couldn’t even see, pushing past all the relief and the worry to dig up her frustrations like a Siren. The blonde knew she wasn't being fair, just like she hadn’t been fair to Bruno all those days ago. Wednesday would always be reckless, mysteries and gore were how she thrived, and Enid had no right to deny her that. But the lead in her stomach was too much for her to bear in silence, not anymore, and if Wednesday was going to keep going down self destructive rabbit holes, she was at least going to hear her out first. For better or worse.
"I have to do this, Enid," Wednesday stated, careful, her neck straining to maintain eye contact with her roommate pacing relentlessly near the bed.
"Why?” Enid growled, her entire body wired to something visceral inside her she rarely ever let loose, especially not around Wednesday. But her frustration ran deep, deeper than she’d realized and she was tired of seeing her best friend, bruised and bloody, whenever she turned a too familiar corner or passed by the skeletal char of the tree in the quad. “Why can't you just take care of yourself for once?"
"Because I need to take care of you, first," Wednesday’s reply was immediate and absolute, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, something obvious that Enid was not privy to. It slammed into her like a freight train, finally breaking her relentless pacing as she whipped around to face her roommate.
"What are you talking about?"
“I need to make sure you are safe.” It was Wednesday’s turn to growl, low and threatening at the back of her throat. “That's what matters."
Enid deflated at the unexpectedness of the confession, guilt and anger and something else entirely stirring in her guts as she took a step forward, watching the crinkly white hospital gown shift around Wednesday’s torso in time with her deep, calming breaths. It stood too stark against the girl’s pale skin, truly sacrilegious of a choice by the medical staff, though Enid suspected it was either that or a powder blue which would’ve surely sent the brunette into a frenzy. It didn’t even match the whites of her eyes — now peaking around her irises as she watched Enid approach — reddened by exhaustion and an unnaturally long sleep that did nothing to curb it. The blonde sighed, slowly reaching out for her friend’s hand, wanting to touch, to show that she was still here, just like earlier. Wednesday let her.
"I am safe Wednesday,” Enid said softly, allowing her frustration to take a back seat in favour of comfort. Wednesday was rarely receptive to that kind of approach, but something told her that this time might be a rare exception. “I'm not going to let Tyler get to me. I can take care of myself."
"You don't understand," the Raven mumbled, turning away.
"Then make me!" Enid exclaimed, taking hold of Wednesday’s hand with both of hers as she sat on the thin mattress, just a few inches too far to feel the other’s body heat and yet her smell, the smell of blood, earth and a hint of fear beneath all the antiseptic, was impossible to miss. "Why are you so worried? Why were you looking at me like I'm the one in that hospital bed?” Almost on queue, that impossible look of relief when their eyes had first met earlier melted back onto Wednesday’s features like an imprint in the snow, hiding something darker underneath pushing Enid to finally ask, “Why do you never tell me anything?"
"Because you'd be miserable," Wednesday countered fast as a striking snake, voice raised for the first time since the beginning of their exchange.
"And you think I'm not miserable already?"
Enid’s eyes found the ceiling, the brutal reminder that Wednesday was anything but a people person hurting in a way that she was ashamed to realize. She was used to it by now, knew that the Raven didn’t mean anything by her lack of tact, that she was trying to protect her in her own way, but something in the back of her mind still took the blow anyway. She hated herself for it, how selfish it made her feel.
"Wednesday, you're my best friend,” the blonde continued through a rapidly tightening throat, hands squeezing around the brunette’s phalanges as if to physically imprint into her the importance of her words. “If you'd died that day, I’d never be the same again."
Silence settled between them once more, heavy. Enid squashed the instinct to cringe at herself for how dramatic she’d made the whole situation, especially when she felt moisture building on her cheeks as she watched Wednesday struggle to process everything she’d just unceremoniously dumped on her. She wasn’t going to apologize, though the itch was unbearably strong. She might’ve a year ago. Not anymore. Still, the stretching minutes ticking by on the IKEA clock above the door felt undeniably agonizing. Her insides were churning, her throat felt dry, and the torn look on Wednesday’s face wasn’t helping. Enid decided to just give her however much time she needed.
Eventually, Wednesday sighed in resignation.
"I had a vision, that day in the courtyard," the Raven spoke low, staring Enid down like she was gauging her reaction. "You were dead."
"Dead?" The word felt pasty in the blonde’s mouth, like all the moisture was suddenly sucked right out of it. Wednesday didn’t break eye contact for a moment, nodding slowly in confirmation.
"I think I am responsible for it."
All at once, Wednesday’s worry and stubbornness made a lot more sense. The Raven wasn’t one to shy away from misery or grief or death. Yet contrary to what other people might think, she had an unshakable and sometimes infuriatingly steady moral compass. She was fierce in her values, and if she thought she would be at the root of a tragedy that would bring irreversible harm to someone she deemed worthy to save, she would stop at nothing to prevent it, regardless of the hurt she might bring upon herself. Enid could beg her to stop, could try and convince her to put her safety first, but Wednesday was unshakable once she’d made up her mind. Her selfishness was strangely selfless in that way. A true paradox.
"Why didn't you tell me?” Enid sighed, feeling impossibly drained as all the fight and tension melted out of her at once, running off in waves so potent they almost feel like they could be visible.
"You don't do well with bad news," Wednesday answered, a pointed look on her face that Enid couldn’t help but chuckle at despite the lack of humour.
"Clearly.”
Enid finally let go of Wednesday’s hand to wipe her cheeks, pretending not to notice the other girl retracting it in a startled jerk, to quick to be conscious. The blonde allowed herself a few seconds to think about how she wanted to approach the rest of the conversation, realizing with steadily mounting dread that Wednesday wouldn’t be here, bruised and battered and barely able to hold herself upright, if it weren’t for her. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, one she imagined contributed massively to Wednesday’s reluctance to share her vision with her. It seemed the Raven knew her better than she realized.
"So that's it,” Enid finally huffed, “Your investigation is some kind of selfless crusade to save me from whatever fate you saw in your vision?"
"Yes.”
The answer was as blunt as it was absolute and Enid couldn’t help but see a certain humour in it. It wasn’t fair how easily Wednesday could wiggle herself back into her good graces. Even Yoko, with her fanged smiles and adorable eyebrow wiggles couldn’t melt Enid’s heart that effortlessly. The worse part was, Wednesday wasn’t even trying. She was fully ready to accept Enid’s ire if it meant she could achieve whatever goal she had set for herself that day, whether that be stopping resurrected pilgrims or finding the source of Enid’s impending demise before it was too late.
Dead.
Enid could very well end up dead in the next few weeks. The thought alone was terrifying, clearing her brain of anything that wasn’t just primal fight or flight and yet, Enid somehow didn’t feel like pursuing either. It was like there was this secret third option, a door opened by the very person who put her in that position in the first place: to strategize.
"I could help, you know," Enid offered then, watching as Wednesday seemed to straighten defensively.
"You've had a lot on your plate," the Raven countered, tone flat. It didn’t take a genius to realize what she was referring to.
All those times Enid had offered up their room for the pack to chill in, all those times she’d put them above Wednesday on her list of priorities in her attempt to finally belong somewhere, all those times she’d failed to realize that maybe Wednesday wasn’t the only one pushing her out, it all became startlingly clear. And as if to add one final neat and tidy layer to this gigantic sandwich of neglect Enid had been cooking for her roommate, the tall, nice, jock boyfriend stereotype had sauntered in in the form of a late bloomer Werewolf with a big heart and even bigger smile, monopolizing the rest of the love struck blonde’s free time for good. Enid was happy, so happy, she’d found people she could relate to, her pack, her friends, Werewolves like her with their own experiences that she could learn from. She was grateful for Bruno, helping her realize that she wasn’t alone in her struggles, that some guys could see more in her than just a meek, pretty little girl. But maybe, just maybe, she’d neglected to acknowledge that she also had a roommate who might’ve already showed her all of that too — in the dark after Crackstone, whispering away her fears and worries — and though she may not have been particularly social, loud or bold, she was her best friend and she sometimes needed the reminder herself.
"Besides,” Wednesday continued, seemingly oblivious to her friend’s turmoil. “I want to keep you out of harm's way."
"When will you finally understand that harm’s way is wherever you're not?" Enid replied, as shaken as she was exasperated, scooting closer to the brunette as she struggled not to get lost in confused, obsidian eyes. "I don’t know how you're supposed to be responsible for my death Wednesday, but one thing I do know for sure is that you'd do anything to keep it from happening, whether you leave me out of it or not."
"Enid,” Wednesday stated beneath an exhale. One word, her name, and yet it had so much to say.
"Please, stop leaving me out of everything," the blonde pleaded. "I want my best friend back."
It was Wednesday’s turn to reach for her cheeks, slow and methodical, fingers soft as the fluttering of a moth’s wings. Enid closed her eyes, leaning into the gentleness of the other girl’s touch, knowing her fingers would come back wet yet not caring much for it. The brunette’s attention was a welcome comfort, one she would indulge readily as those moments were rare. It was Enid’s turn to marvel at how real Wednesday felt, how they would both be okay, finally internalizing it once and for all. Her legs still felt like jelly, but unlike earlier, it kinda felt good.
"I will try," Wednesday murmured as she retracted her fingers, the slightest upwards twitch of her lips possibly hinting at a smile
“You better mean it, Addams,” Enid grunted, teasing and satisfied.
They both knew Wednesday never said anything she didn’t mean.
***
Enid sighed way too loudly as she pushed her way back into their empty dorm room. She allowed the familiar creaking of the floor boards to wash away the tension in her shoulders as she dragged her feet all the way to her bed and plopped face down into it, fabric softener and lavender pillow spray drowning out the hospital smell still clinging to her nose hairs.
She was exhausted. Capital ‘E’ exhausted.
The emotions of the day, from Wednesday's awakening to their confrontation and reconciliation to the laborious process of eventually having to be kicked out of the room by Jessie the nurse who claimed that only family was allowed to stay the night — and that was after she’d already struggled to convince Wednesday she had to stay the night at all — had pushed Enid to the brink of sanity. She'd promised Wednesday she'd be back the next day after classes, offering to bring her the homework she had to inevitably catch up on, though only the promise of also lugging along her typewriter had calmed Wednesday down enough to convince her to stay in bed and not follow Enid right out the door. If she could even stand. Enid still wasn’t sure she could.
Lurch had graciously offered the blonde a ride back, simply opening the door to the backseat when he'd spotted her exiting the hospital as though she was like any other member of the Addams family, and the gesture had unexpectedly warmed her heart. Now safely back in Ophelia Hall, tired and sans Wednesday, all she wanted was to scrub herself as clean as possible without showering and go to bed. She was just about to peel herself off of her mattress and get a move on to do just that, when she suddenly heard an unwanted creak of the floor right by her bedside.
“Thing?” Enid called out, straining her ear to see if she could hear his tell tale pitter patter approaching the bed.
“He’s out looking for the Hyde with Fester Addams,” a soft, high pitch voice answered her instead, scaring the ever living hell out of the unsuspecting blonde.
Enid turned to it instantly, claws out and hackles raised, only to be greeted by the placid smile and creepy, beady eyes of Agnes DeMille. The sight was not entirely unexpected — the blonde had felt the girl lurking around her periphery in a way that felt a little too intentional for comfort in the last week — but it was still mildly startling and definitely unwelcome. Enid made this very clear by letting herself fall right back down into the colourful comforter, using it to muffle an exasperated groan so loud, it was a wonder no pack members howled back in turn.
"She's not coming back tonight, is she?" Agnes asked in that syrupy sweet voice that grated on Enid's nerves like a rusty blade, only aggravating the latter’s already potent annoyance into something potentially lethal.
"Leave," Enid offered bluntly as a reply, hoping that if she waited long enough, Agnes would just disappear back into the void from whence she came. All it got her was an indignant sigh.
"That's awfully ungrateful of you considering I've been keeping an eye out for you for days," the ginger girl huffed, crossing her lanky little arms over her chest way too smugly for Enid's taste.
"I never asked you to do that," the blonde growled back, lifting her head up just enough to send a glare the other girl's way.
"I knew Wednesday would appreciate it," Agnes shrugged, a dreamy smile lighting up her features in a way that made Enid's skin crawl. "So, how long 'till they discharge her?"
"Another week," Enid groaned, deciding that giving Agnes what she wanted would be the fastest way to get rid of the girl and send her galavanting back to her own dorm on the other side of campus which somehow still didn’t feel like it would be far enough away.
Unfortunately for her, stalkers were not easily dissuaded.
The girl simply hummed her acquiescence, turning around to go take a seat at Wednesday's desk like she owned the room. It had taken an entire school year and a near death experience for Enid to have been given the right to come and go from the Raven’s side of the room as she pleased. The comparatively effortless way the little ginger girl had carved a nice little nook for herself right into her roommate's life irked Enid in a way she struggled to put a name to.
"Your little boyfriend came to check on you earlier," Agnes spoke up again after a few beats, fingers mindlessly running along worn scratches in the wooden desk as she sent Enid a coy smile. "I told him you were with your secret admirer."
"You did what?!"
Enid immediately scrambled for her phone, desperate to see if Bruno had texted anything about it and hoping he hadn’t taken Agnes’ joke at face value. She ignored the way her heart stuttered in her chest at the ginger girl’s teasing words, focusing instead on the dread and guilt settling in her guts at the thought of Bruno possibly believing them. That would be bad, wouldn’t it? Yeah, definitely bad. Enid had done such a poor job as a girlfriend lately, she didn’t want a bad prank to be the thing to push Bruno away for good.
When the blonde finally managed to pull out her phone, she was greeted by a terrible sight; the dreaded flashing battery icon. Her phone was dead. How had she not noticed her phone was dead? She usually checked it every ten minutes!
"Why so flustered?” Agnes chuckled as she watched Enid tear through her bag in search of her phone charger. She evidently liked watching her squirm. “Anyone with eyes can see Wednesday cares more about you than anyone else on this campus, except maybe her brother now that he's around."
Enid hated that she felt her cheeks redden at the remark, knowing full well the little ginger psycho was just trying to get under her skin. Still, something inside her warmed at the thought of being someone Wednesday valued, someone Wednesday liked, enough for her to take care of in her own peculiar Wednesday way, even when that evidently included protecting one from harm at all cost or painfully destroying one’s enemies, among other things. It was ridiculous how mushy it made her. Pathetic even. Not even Bruno had that kind of effect on her. Still, Enid liked Wednesday too. She would do anything if it meant making the other girl happy. That was just how friendships worked.
"I don't know what you're talking about,” Enid huffed, moving to the power bar next to her bed to finally try to juice up her phone and do some damage control. “Wednesday is just... you know, my friend?"
"And mine,” Agnes countered. “Yet she barely gives me the time of day."
"She's not your friend,” Enid said, deadpan. “She’s your victim."
"You're deflecting."
Enid groaned, whipping around to face the smug little intruder and taking a few lengthy strides forward, a pathetic threat that didn’t seem to impress the other girl one bit.
"So what if Wednesday cares about me?” Enid snapped, ignoring the way her neck itched with something close to anger at her own dismissiveness for reasons she didn’t have the mental capacity to investigate in that moment. “I care about her too."
"Oh come now wolfy,” Agnes tutted, her tone condescending as though she was scolding a child. “You may be blonde, but you’re not that dumb. Wednesday wouldn't stand for that."
Enid’s jaw fell to the floor, a sticky mixture between offence and disbelief leaving her at a loss for word as Agnes shrugged innocently, skipping out of Wednesday’s chair and towards the door. Just as she was about to exit, she stopped herself, looking over her shoulder at Enid with a look between contempt and jealously.
"Just think about it,” the girl said in lieu of a goodbye. “You'll be doing us both a favour."
And with that, she disappeared, closing the door behind her with finality. Enid was left standing in the middle of the very empty room alone, confused and concerned, her mind racing a mile a minute as she was suddenly hit with a feeling of dread and excitement she hadn’t anticipated and couldn’t even begin to define.