Work Text:
The worst thing was that Enid wasn't even surprised when she woke up to find Wednesday long gone. Almost a week since Rotwood's curse had wrapped them up closer than she'd ever expected them to get, and already Wednesday had retreated. Regressed. Taking shelter behind her walls once more, leaving Enid less than confident that she’d be able to sneak past them a second time. It had taken a kind of magic Enid had never even heard of to make it possible once.
She walked over to their window, toying idly with a loose bit of the plastic film staining the glass. Not for the first time she wondered if she should just tear it all down; surely that would prompt a reaction. But just like yesterday and the day before, when she tried to extend her claws to rip another panel free, her nails didn't so much as twitch. She'd been feeling less like a wolf this last week than she ever had before, even in the long years when the moon stirred nothing more in her than bitterness.
But that only meant she was an old hand at self-loathing, so she knew better than to wallow in it. And for her that had always meant surrounding herself with people who actually gave a damn about her. Nevermore had been good to her in that respect, or at least better than home had been. Yoko was always there for her, and lately the Nightshades had been too. A week ago she might have added Bruno to that list, but the less said about that the better.
Unfortunately, at the end of the day it didn't matter how many friends she had to while away the daylight hours, because she didn't live with any of them. Which brought her, as always, back to Wednesday. Or at least their shared room, as her roommate hadn’t been limiting her ghost impression to the morning. Enid had looked for her at dinner without success, but that wasn't exactly unusual. But she hadn't caught a glimpse or whiff of her around the school at all that day either, which was. Even when she was avoiding her, she still showed up for class. Usually.
So it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise when she opened the door to find Wednesday seated at her desk, scratching away at some assignment Enid had probably forgotten all about. Even so, the sight was enough to stop her in her tracks.
"You're here," she said dumbly as the door swung shut behind her.
Most people wouldn’t have caught it, but to Enid the sudden freeze that signaled the transition from Wednesday’s usual rigor mortis posture to something impossibly tenser was obvious. But she didn’t otherwise react, not even to acknowledge her presence. And just like that Enid was back where she was that morning, caught between a steadily boiling anger and feeling like her tail was tucked firmly between her legs. She might as well have wallowed, for all the good her attempted distractions did her.
That more than anything loosened her tongue, when she might have respected Wednesday's clear "do not interact" signals otherwise. "Like, it's only 8 PM. You don't have somewhere else to be?"
Her roommate stilled at that, the low sound of her pen scratching on paper falling away. "I do live here Enid, despite your daily attempts to drive me into an early grave with your decorating."
"Hah, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Enid said, ignoring Wednesday's weak attempt at bantering as her usual sunny smile grew brittle. "But you know how many times I've seen you here in the last week?"
"The investigation has required my complete --"
"Not even once!" And there were her claws, finally making an appearance on their own initiative. Just like the rest of her wolf. "Almost like you've been avoiding me."
Again, Wednesday didn’t see fit to respond. She hadn't even bothered to turn around as Enid walked to her bed to drop her bag and aimed verbal barbs at her back. No, she just sat there as immoveable as she always was. Or at least as she always pretended to be.
"Which would be super weird, right? After everything?" Enid found herself pacing, feeling manic enough for a full moon even though it was a week away. "What happened to not letting me be alone? You didn't even last a day before you started leaving me behind again."
The only silver lining was that Agnes had seemingly been walled out too, but even that didn't bring her as much comfort as it would have weeks ago. The little sneak hadn't exactly endeared herself to Enid, but it had been hard to think of her as a threat after everything that happened while they were stuck in each other’s bodies. Seeing Tyler grab the younger girl and toss her in a cell when she couldn’t fall back on her wolf hadn’t been fun. And sure, maybe she felt a little bad about making the creepy wannabe cry.
But none of that mattered now. "Well?"
She paused, waiting for Wednesday to say… something. Anything. And when she just sat there, seemingly intent on maintaining her impression of a gargoyle, Enid felt something inside her crack. "God, I don't know why I thought it would be different this time. You'd really think I would know better by now." She could barely get the words out past the lump in her throat. "I guess you also told me to stop wasting my kindness on people who don’t deserve it, so maybe I'll give that a try."
She stalked towards the door, for once not worrying about where she'd go. Why bother, when it was doubtful she'd still be on two legs by the time she made it to the doors of Ophelia Hall more girl than wolf.
"Enid, I --"
"What, Wednesday?" she snarled, turning around with one hand on the door. "Finally have something to say to me?"
Wednesday's eyes were blown uncharacteristically wide as she stood halfway risen from her desk, one hand gripping her chair tightly. It was the least composed Enid had seen her since Crackstone -- at least while she was in her own body. But the satisfaction that brought her was short lived when she considered the state Wednesday's actions had driven her into. Even as she uncharacteristically stumbled over her words and struggled to maintain eye contact, something Enid didn't think she'd see from her roommate in a million years.
But after a moment she visibly regained her equilibrium, settling her gaze somewhere over Enid's shoulder. "My publisher included some unasked-for recommendations before they dropped me. In case 'some unlucky therapist works a miracle' and I deign to engage in the editorial process."
"And?" On another day she would have been up in arms at the insult to her friend, but today she frankly sympathized with whichever poor publisher had been exposed to the full force of Wednesday without any sort of warning. "What, someone was a little rude to you, so you decided to ignore me for a week?"
She started turning the handle of their door at the thought, because at this rate she wouldn’t even make it to the stairs before she lost it.
But Wednesday grimaced and shook her head, looking almost panicked. “No. But it is… relevant.”
Enid huffed, relaxing her grip on the doorknob and gesturing at her to go on. Her aching teeth and the small spasms starting in her hands couldn’t mean anything good, but she could give Wednesday a minute to explain herself. Even her implicit admission that there was something going on was enough to take the edge off, after a week of silence.
"The nature of their advice… unsettled me. They suggested offsetting the more macabre and morbid scenes I was unwilling to compromise on with something to cleanse the reader's palate." She paused, eyes darting to meet Enid's before resuming their steady observation of the wall behind her. "Something like a romantic subplot. For Viper."
In spite of herself Enid felt herself grin. "Are you seriously considering writing a love story, Wednesday? You?"
The famous Wednesday glare made its expected return, but for once Enid didn’t feel fazed by it. Even if she was momentarily entertained, she was mostly furious, and Wednesday had yet to give her a single reason not to be.
Wednesday must have picked up on that, because she abandoned her attempted intimidation and looked away again. "I was inclined to dismiss something so ridiculous out of hand, of course," she said, falling back into something more like her usual cold, merciless tone. "But I have received similar advice before, and it would be foolish to disregard the same feedback from two independent sources."
Enid couldn’t help but laugh again. "Someone else said it too? To your face?"
Maybe it was the light of the setting sun filtering through their window, but for a moment Enid thought Wednesday might actually blush. "It was my mother," she said shortly.
Enid narrowed her eyes. “Didn't you say you'd let your mother read your manuscript when she 'exhumed your grave to pry it from your cold dead hands'?" That had been one of her arguments for not letting Enid read it, after all.
"That is correct, and I stand by my words," Wednesday said, then moved on immediately before Enid could ask how she received that particular bit of advice. "But the crux of the matter is that I refuse to compromise the structure of my work by inserting an additional character for the sole purpose of catering to the masses."
As entertaining as this tangent was, Enid was getting a little tired of it. No matter how relevant Wednesday insisted it was. "Well, I'm not an author but I'm pretty sure there's an obvious solution there."
"Yes. But Viper is solitary by nature, and the obvious solution is more difficult than it sounds." She paused, eyes once again finding Enid's for a brief moment. "In fact, the only person she has allowed to get close is… Evelyn."
For a moment Enid thought she was going to combust right there on the spot. Because she wasn’t a detective, but it certainly sounded like Wednesday was suggesting, in her roundabout allergic to showing emotion way… Well, Viper was Wednesday, that was clear even not having read the novel. And Evelyn was Enid, and for Wednesday to bring this up after Enid confronted her for her abandonment…
But then she remembered what she'd actually read in Wednesday's manuscript, and bitterness quickly replaced whatever else she'd started to feel.
"Well, I see the problem then," Enid said coldly, glaring at the offending manuscript where it was sitting on Wednesday's desk. "Viper doesn’t seem to think very highly of her, after all."
Wednesday looked at her sharply, bewildered. "What gave you that idea?"
"I read a few pages while we were swapped,” Enid said coldly. “Which you’re not allowed to be mad at me for right now,” she added when Wednesday’s glare turned somewhat murderous. “I was taking a page out of your book, really. Going method.”
Wednesday didn't look like she was going to buy that, but after a moment she just closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Disregarding that," she said, twitching slightly and glaring at her like someone who was very much not disregarding that, "I cannot deny that Viper found her vapid, grating, and generally pathetic when she first made her acquaintance."
Hearing it directly from Wednesday's lips was almost enough to send Enid tearing out the door for the safety of the woods before her wolf could make an appearance. Part of her hoped she would lose control, and see Wednesday try to call her pathetic in the face of a snarling wolf many times her size.
"But," Wednesday continued before Enid's teeth could grow more than an inch, "over time Viper came to see how short sighted her first impression was." She was facing the wall more than Enid now, face mostly hidden by one of her braids. "In fact, it becomes one of Viper's main regrets, and a major factor in her developing character over the course of the novel, as she reflects on how easily she could have never seen Evelyn's strengths had she stayed as she was."
That sense of imminent combustion returned in a heartbeat, and Enid forgot all about how wretched reading those words had made her feel. Even the more wolfish side of her seemed to agree, as she felt her teeth and claws slowly retract. After a few seconds there was nothing left to set her apart from a normal werewolf. She opened her mouth several times, feeling like a siren drowning on dry land, but for once she couldn't find any words to describe the un-nameable feelings stirring in her chest.
After a long moment Wednesday glanced at her, before twisting her head back to face the wall so quickly Enid swore she heard her neck crack. That was enough to shock Enid out of her stupor. "So… what's the issue?" she asked.
And if there was a bit more emotion in her question than appropriate for a discussion about a novel, who could blame her? It was only what she'd been asking herself all week. She'd long learned to look past Wednesday's caustic words to find evidence that she cared in her actions. But what was she to do when her words were sweet, but she treated her like she was worthless?
"Viper isn't right for her, of course," Wednesday said. Hopefully just unaware of Enid's internal anguish, rather than uncaring. "Viper is poisonous. To herself and others. Not to mention dark, macabre, and aloof. It's quite clear to her that while Evelyn might tolerate her, she wouldn't be interested in anything more."
If Wednesday was in her position, Enid couldn't imagine her doing anything less than responding with an itemized list of exactly why that was absolutely ridiculous. But all she was capable of at that moment was blurting out "That doesn't sound right."
"Regardless of how it sounds, Enid --"
"No, I mean -- you said that Evelyn was the only one who's broken past her walls. That doesn't sound easy." In fact, it sounded like the kind of thing that required months of concerted effort, several second chances, and a willingness to ignore the way literally everyone else looked at the world. Not to mention a tolerance for threats and medieval weaponry being hidden under your bed for 'tactical reasons'.
Wednesday broke off her staring contest with the wall to meet Enid's gaze, and for once didn't immediately look away. "I suppose that's true."
"So she must have been trying," Enid continued, feeling emboldened by the lack of resistance. "And why would she do that if she thought Viper was 'poisonous', or whatever?"
Wednesday hummed, frowning slightly to herself as she considered.
Enid had never learned to quit while she was ahead, as a consequence of a childhood spent chronically behind, so she continued. "And you said it yourself; Viper has misjudged her before. Don't you think she might just be… overthinking it?" She wrung her hands together, unable to stop a soft smile from blooming over her face. "That sounds like something she might do."
That might be crossing the line of the little game it was steadily becoming clear that Wednesday was playing here, but she couldn't help herself. Nor could she stop herself from taking a tentative step forward, closing some of the distance between them.
"Perhaps you're right," Wednesday said, and it felt like finally the ice had cracked between them after a long winter.
"Wow, Wednesday Addams admitting I have a point?" Enid asked, beaming as she took another step, just two arm length's away from her… something. Surreptitiously (she hoped) she checked her outfit, but for once she was glad of Nevermore's strict uniform requirements. Shrugging off her blazer would leave her upper body almost completely devoid of color. But in the precious seconds it took to do so, Wednesday turned on her heel and marched towards their window.
"But there are other problems, too of course," she said, apparently ignorant of how it made Enid's heart constrict. "Evelyn is constantly surrounded by other suitors, for one."
Enid paused just as she finally freed her arm from the sleeve of her blazer. "Surrounded?" she asked under her breath, more than a little incredulously.
"Not that Viper blames them, of course," Wednesday continued, heedlessly. "How could she? But none of the parasites Evelyn deigns to acknowledge have anything in common with Viper. It's clear that whatever interest she might have in Viper, it isn't romantic in nature. And I will die before I force my --" She broke off, and Enid only caught her flinch because of the light shining on her through the window. "-- before I compromise my artistic vision for the sake of a shallow attempt to please a crowd with an ill-considered romance."
For what felt like the tenth time in this conversation alone, Enid felt the distance between them grow just when it seemed like it would finally disappear. And she'd had enough of it. What was the use of tiptoeing around the elephant in the room if Wednesday seemed intent on ignoring it altogether? So she marched right up to join her roommate at their window, catching her sleeve when she whirled around and tried to retreat again.
Then she paused, reeling in the part of herself better suited to the full moon that wanted nothing more than to shake her until she said what she actually meant. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would eventually long for Wednesday's typical blunt disregard for polite deflection and common courtesy, she would have laughed in their face. But here she was. And much as she wanted to, she doubted trampling over every single one of Wednesday’s boundaries would help. Especially if she was trying to say what Enid thought she was.
"Ok…" she began, dropping Wednesday’s arm before she could object to her touch. "A lot to unpack there. But it sounds like Viper's making tons of assumptions. Because she hasn't let Evelyn know that she's interested, has she?"
Wednesday was looking at her with widened eyes, the arm Enid was holding onto held gingerly between them. "No," she said, before dropping her gaze to the floor. "I've discovered that Viper can be quite the coward, when it suits her."
"That isn't true!" Enid found herself saying immediately. "You -- I mean Viper -- well I haven't read much of the book obviously but based on how you talk about her and her whole vibe -- and I mean Evelyn, god, she can be such a wimp, I bet." Or at least compared to Wednesday, because honestly, who wasn't?
"Obviously not," Wednesday muttered, probably not intending for her to hear. But then she looked up, dark eyes staring at Enid like she hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes looking anywhere but at her. "Enid, I must admit something."
Enid's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"
"I have not really been talking about my novel." Wednesday stated this with all the cold solemnity she usually reserved for breaks in her cases.
Once more Enid had to stop herself from shaking Wednesday, just a little. It probably wouldn't even bother her, and it would make Enid feel better. But instead, she just closed her eyes and practiced one of the breathing exercises Capri had given her until she felt less like screaming.
Even then, her words came out as close to a deadpan as she was capable of. "I know that, Wednesday."
"Ah."
This time there was no hiding it in the last bit of daylight making its way through their window; Wednesday was blushing. Of course, given her pallor blushing just made her look briefly like someone who hadn't just donated approximately half their blood. Normal, in other words, if that could ever really be said about Wednesday Addams.
But Wednesday rallied quickly, of course. "Good, then." She fidgeted slightly, fingers twitching. "Then I take it that you are not… opposed?" Wednesday asked.
Her hands were draped loosely in front of her, but after a year of calibrating her vision to Wednesday's muted body language, Enid could see how tense she was. She was standing so stiffly that Enid was half afraid her body would snap from the strain, and Enid wanted nothing more than to ease that tension. But as she thought about how she had shepherded this conversation along from the beginning, and how long she'd been left alone to second guess and catastrophize, she found she couldn't. Or at least not right away.
"You haven't actually asked me anything yet, Wednesday," she said softly, reaching out to take Wednesday's hands in hers.
Wednesday frowned, but she didn't pull away as Enid interlaced their fingers, holding them right at the divide between the colorful and monochrome sides of the window. "But you said that you knew --"
"I need to hear you say it, Wends," Enid said, cutting her off. She punctuated her words by squeezing Wednesday's hands tighter, half convinced she would attempt another escape.
So she was caught off guard when, after a moment spent staring intently at her, Wednesday stepped forward instead. She crowded into Enid's personal space in a way that would have had the Enid of a year ago running for the door. But here, now, she was just captivated by the way the light shining through her side of the window cast Wednesday's face into a riotous mosaic of color, her pale complexion the perfect canvas for Enid’s kaleidoscope.
"How unlike you, to prolong my suffering," Wednesday said, voice as flat as ever even as she pinned Enid in place with her eyes, continuing before Enid could do anything but stare back. "But I have inflicted worse torture upon myself this past week, keeping myself away even as you tormented my every thought. It was bad enough when the only nightmares I could find were concerned with your death. But now everything I see reminds me of you. I have always detested the laughter and shrill exultations of our peers, but now I do so because they are not yours. I was cursed enough to see a rainbow yesterday, and my only thought was disappointment that you did not accompany it. Even the cemetery provided no relief, as it only reminded me of my visions of your gravestone, marred by your pitiful family's name."
Wednesday somehow found enough space between them to take another step forward. "In short, I am consumed by you, Enid. And I realize now that even the agony of rejection would be preferrable to that of this limbo I have forced upon myself."
For a moment Enid could barely breathe. Her face felt like a furnace, and unlike her roommate she doubted she'd get over it anytime soon. She'd expected… well, she wasn't quite sure actually, but certainly nothing like that. Something more along the lines of 'I find you more tolerable than anyone else', not one of the most romantic things she'd ever heard in her life.
But Wednesday clearly interpreted her frozen shock as something else, as her face fell. "I see," she said, trying to pull her hands away, which was finally enough to jolt Enid out of her stupor. "Say no more. I will not trouble you with --"
She was interrupted by Enid crashing their lips together, desperate to put a stop to the conclusion Wednesday had come to before she could disappear for another week, or longer. Seeing as words had failed her, she thought almost deliriously as she wrapped her arms around Wednesday, she might as well take a page out of her roommate's book and fall back on actions.
Wednesday stiffened in her arms, but only for a moment before she threw herself into the kiss with equal fervor. Their teeth clacked together immediately, which was about par for the course in Enid's admittedly limited experience, but Wednesday showed none of the rueful embarrassment that had accompanied previous instances. Instead she pressed herself into Enid's arms even harder, and her hands drifted from where they had been trapped between them to frame Enid's face.
Enid could have stayed there forever, or at least until she lost what little breath remained in her lungs. But some unknowable time later Wednesday pulled back. Opening eyes, Enid found her roommate staring back at her, analyzing her. And she was fluent enough in Wednesday's various stares and glares by now to recognize this one - she was examining Enid for any trace of doubt or regret.
Of course, she'd find none. "You don't have to look at me like that, Wends."
At that, a hint of indignation entered Wednesday's eyes. "You hesitated," she said, brow furrowed. "Unless it was a calculated delay, as revenge for my own avoidance of you over the last week. In which case I have to applaud your ruthlessness."
"Of course not!" Enid said quickly, before wishing she had held her tongue for once, because she doubted Wednesday would like the actual explanation. "It's just -- I wasn't expecting you to say all of that. Or any of it. I mean, you wouldn't let me hug you for months. But that was like, the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Take that back," Wednesday said. Apparently automatically, as she continued without so much as glaring at her. "But I don't understand your surprise. When have you ever known me to resort to half-measures?"
Enid rolled her eyes. "I don't know Wends, maybe when you made me walk you through your self-insert's love life instead of just telling me."
Tellingly, Wednesday chose not to respond to that, instead leaning into to kiss her again. Which Enid allowed. There'd be time to tease her later, preferably in the presence of as many of their friends as possible. She had enough material to last her for weeks, now that she knew for sure she wasn't at risk of being smothered in her sleep for it.