Chapter Text
Wednesday Addams did not enjoy crowds. Everything about them went against her nature- the chaotic noise, the pushing, the shoving, the growing space between her and her escape route. Funerals were, of course, the one exception. Crowds gathered in mourning were tolerable, even enjoyable. For the most part, however, Wednesday knew to avoid the masses. Far better to stick to the edge of the crowd, where it was easier to observe. While her trip to Willow Hill had all the intentions of flying below the radar, she knew better than to assume there would be no diversions along the way. Freeing the patients had not necessarily been her mission, but was one she could easily get behind. She had seen and read enough to understand this was no place for outcasts of any standing.
The swarms of outcasts rushing for the exits resembled zoo creatures free from their enclosures, all clashing teeth and panic. Not that she would expect it to be orderly, but rather she had assumed at least some of the patients would maintain a level of decorum. She had lost Uncle Fester and the LOIS outcast they had picked up some time ago, an unfortunate result of her momentary distraction following Thornhill’s appearance, and now she moved alone through the various halls of Willow Hill. She tried not to think too much of Thornhill- Laurel- nor her beastly counterpart, even as the building began to empty. That was beneath her, beyond her realm of interest at this point. She had said her point already today, telling herself it was closure for someone she had once, unwisely, considered to be something close to a friend. This was the end of that chapter. She had much more important things at hand now, a new case to turn her attention to. Laurel Gates and anything- or anyone - involved with her could neatly be moved to her rearview mirror.
She rolled her eyes at herself at just the thought of it. Even that was too much energy towards such a pitiful chapter of her life. Mind clear, she turned her attention to the now-empty corridors of the hospital. She had been presented with the opportunity to move throughout Willow Hill unattended, and Wednesday was never one to waste an opportunity. After all, fleeing always left the best evidence behind. When caught in the consequences of their own mess, predators rarely bothered with paperwork.
Pausing in a particularly dark corner, she took a moment to retrieve a small flashlight from the inner pocket of her vest, always one to be prepared, as well as a knife from her boot. She sat quietly for a moment, carefully cataloging the screams, footfalls, and alarms still ringing through the building. This was her chance to access any paperwork or evidence that may have been safely stored in the administrative rooms, evidence that would be of great value for her current and future investigations. Mentally referencing the plans Agnes had secured, Wednesday began making her way towards the opposite end of Willow Hill.
This was almost too easy.
The administrative wing was a mess of broken glass, scattered papers, and flickering lights. Wednesday pushed her way into the first office to her right, the door already slightly ajar. The conditions of the small room closely mirrored the outside corridors. Desk drawers were open, displaying the occasional missing file, books torn off the shelf running the length of the room, and a laptop lay in pieces on the floor. Wednesday almost laughed; that didn’t seem damning at all.
In the hallway, a door creaked. Wednesday paused, her well-trained ears listening carefully for footsteps or any other indicator of a less-than-welcome guest. After a minute, she took a few more quiet steps into the office.
She moved carefully to the open file cabinet drawer, using the tip of her knife to tab through the file names. Eyes landing on a label reading “Incident Reports”, she swiftly pulled the few forms inside out and fanned them across the desk, eyes scanning for name patterns, crossed-out information, or any relevant information to her case. Coming up with nothing, she closed the drawer with a huff, leaving the documents scattered across the desk. It’s not as if anyone was coming back for them anyway.
As she shifted to open a second drawer, a shadow outside the office door caught the corner of her eye. Hearing one noise could easily be blamed on several factors, but hearing and seeing things on an impromptu investigative mission was a clear indicator that it was time to leave. Flashlight left abandoned on the desk, she rose slowly, adjusting her grip on the knife. While she did not expect the building to be abandoned entirely, it certainly would not be a good look for her to be caught rifling through these offices, given the circumstances. More so, she noted, whoever was out there was moving with far too much control to be a panicked staff member or outcast patient.
Stepping over the various books and papers littered on the office floor, she moved fully into the hallway, shoulders squared to face whatever it was that was intruding on her work. The figure at the other end of the hallway stood half-obscured by the flickering light. He was dressed solely in the same lacking clothing she had unfortunately experienced just hours earlier, though it was now paired with various patches of dark blood. Not his, she noted, as she scanned his muscled torso for any sort of laceration or injury. Not that she would care, injury simply made for bad sport. Almost in response, her grip tightened around the knife.
Tyler only stared back at her for a moment. Gone was the swaggering Hyde she’d faced earlier. He stood tall and confident still, but as he took another step into the light, she was met with the unfortunate look she had come to expect around him. Some pathetic cocktail of softness and frustration, garnished with an emotion she refused to waste energy naming. Tyler stalled for a moment, opening his mouth as if to speak, before his eyes dropped to the blade she was still flexing her fingers around. His mouth snapped shut, and when his eyes found her again, they were much harder.
“Wednesday.” He said, almost as a warning. Slowly, he raised both of his hands, palms facing her.
She was suddenly aware of just how loud the alarms still were, ringing insistently outside of the hallway they stood in, and suddenly aware of how they had seemingly gone silent for a moment. Taking a strained breath, she pushed that thought aside, tilting her head slightly at Tyler, just as a predator would consider their prey.
“You look terrible. I suppose that means you’re still alive.”
“Not necessarily, I could be haunting you from beyond the grave.” He immediately retorted, mirroring her as he tilted his own head, a half-smile gracing his lips as he did so. Wednesday tried to ignore the fact that one of his curls fell across his forehead as he did so.
She rolled her eyes, both at herself and him. “I doubt you lack the interest to become any sort of useful specter.”
“I didn’t come back to haunt you, Wednesday,” He spat her name, annoyance lacing his tone. “I can’t say I’m surprised you’d be here, though, digging around while everyone else is running. Some things don’t change.”
“I’m not interested in continuing our tit-for-tat from earlier, and I’m sure you’d prefer to spare yourself the embarrassment." Nor was she willing to put up with the way her stomach twisted with each verbal parry. She had to change the subject. "Who are you covered in?” It was really none of her business, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t intrigued.
She could see his seemingly confident posture melt as she asked, the rigidity draining from his shoulders as he almost curled in on himself. He paused to look down at his hands, which seemed to also be a delicious shade of scarlet. “I- uh, Thornhill came to see me. She freed me, actually. Wanted me to come find you.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow at him as she subtly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to gauge her escape should it be necessary. While she could certainly handle herself against a friendly neighborhood barista, she was reasonable enough to accept that she stood no chance against his Hyde counterpart. Tyler’s eyes immediately widened as he instinctively took a step towards her. “No, no! That’s not, that’s not why I’m here. I didn’t even know you would be here.” He ran an anxious hand through his hair, leaving a smear of blood on his forehead that Wednesday’s eyes annoyingly got stuck on. She took a step back, more as a way to put more distance between her traitorous eyes and Tyler, though his face fell more as he caught the motion.
Taking a step back himself, he spoke quietly, “Thornhill is dead.”
“While I can’t say I’m devastated, that doesn’t mean you’re not still finishing orders. A good dog still listens off leash.” She taunted, stepping towards him as she looked him up and down. This version of Tyler was still new to her, his body language one that she was completely unfamiliar with.
Tyler’s lip curled as he stepped forward as well, “I’m no one’s pet , Wednesday.”
“If you came back to finish me, you’re wasting time. We’re bound to have company.”
“I’m not here to hurt you! I never was.” Anger, and something that resembled hurt, flashed across his face. He was close enough now that she could make out more than the bloodstains and unfortunately muscled build.
“Revisionist history doesn’t suit you. Stick to blood and gore, it seems to be your native tongue.” Despite her earlier insistence, she found herself quickly angered and falling back on her harsh vocabulary, especially as she was able to make out each freckle on his face the closer he stepped.
“ You don’t have to believe me. Just- don’t run. Not yet.” Tyler’s voice was tight as he spoke, his face falling back to the one Wednesday knew well. It was the face of the annoyingly kind boy she had met all those months ago, not of the murderous monster hellbent on killing her friends. The distinction caught her off guard, especially as Tyler stepped closer again, and she found herself without a retort. She caught Tyler’s eyes as his gaze dropped to her parted but silent mouth, and there was something close to hope on his face as he started to speak again.
”Wednesday, I-”
A door slammed from down the hallway, immediately breaking whatever trance had temporarily infected Wednesday. Both of their heads turned as heavy boots pounded from the next corridor over, and flashlight beams swept through the frosted glass of the wide double doors at the other end of the hallway. Within a moment, a heavily armored guard pushed through the doors, rifle in hand. Two additional guards followed closely behind.
“You there! Stop!”
Tyler reacted quickly, grabbing Wednesday’s wrist and pulling her into the next hallway. She instinctively allowed herself to be pulled for just a moment, glancing over her shoulder for only a moment to see the guards take off after them. As they moved quickly through the corridors of Willow Hill, she pulled against the grip Tyler had around her wrist. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt or bruise, but it was clear he had no intention of letting her go.
“Stop fighting. I know a way out.” He gritted out, just loud enough for her to hear.
As they neared another corridor and set of doors, she noted that they had put a little more than a hallway’s length between themselves and their pursuers, allowing Tyler to covertly pull her into a small room to their right. They listened as the heavy footfalls hurried passed, Wednesday’s back pressed to Tyler’s chest as he covered her mouth. She tried not to think of a previous time she had found herself in this position. When her avoidance proved impossible, she abruptly pushed away from him, knife still in hand and angled at the base of his throat.
“While your intervention seems to have been successful, I don’t need to remind you that I am not the fugitive murderer here.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Because Wednesday Addams is beloved by the police force around here, yeah.”
She paused for a short moment. Unfortunately, he was correct. Wednesday was many things, but she was not a liar. “You appear to be slightly less intolerable than the alternative.”
A wide smile broke across Tyler’s face. Wednesday hated how it made her chest tight. “I’ll take it.” He said. “Now come on.”
She watched as he felt his way around the dark room, lit only by a small window towards the ceiling of the back wall. In the dim lighting, she could see long tables set in the middle of the room and shelves lining the walls. This was some sort of storage or workroom. Wednesday moved away from Tyler, searching for more indicators as to why he chose to hide them in this particular room. After all, she would rather participate in one of Enid’s girls’ nights than ask him directly.
“It’s a morgue,” He said, as if reading her mind. “And if I remember hearing correctly…”
He trailed off as he wandered into the back corner of the room. With all of the time spent, both willingly and unwillingly, in morgues, it was truly embarrassing that she had missed that. She needed to get out of Willow Hill and away from Tyler immediately. Once they were free, he would go back to being Not Her Problem, and she would cease to be distracted by any inconvenient physiological responses to his presence. She continued to explore her side of the room, doing her best to ignore whatever Tyler was doing on his. There was a soft click, and then Tyler was swinging a door open into the night.
He turned back to look at her, a toothy smile on his face. Wednesday was torn whether she’d rather carve his smile off or her own torturous heart out for beating faster at the sight. Outside the door was a small ramp and a gravel lane, but otherwise, Wednesday could see nothing but the dense woods of Vermont.
“For, uh, getting to the bodies, you know,” Tyler explained almost bashfully, looking back from the woods to Wednesday. “I heard one of the nurses mention that they had their own access. Glad I paid attention.”
Wednesday looked up at him, allowing herself a few brief seconds to scan his face.
“This does not make us allies,” she said firmly.
“No. Just escapees.” He smiled back.
Rolling her eyes, she stepped out of the door and started towards the forest. She didn’t need her psychic abilities to know that a certain brunette boy was only a few steps behind.