Chapter Text
Woe More Grey
The motel squatted against the darkness like a decaying tooth, its neon sign flickering weakly in the cold. VACA_CY, it proclaimed, one letter long dead. The parking lot held three cars and a motorcycle.
Wednesday Addams stood at the front desk, watching the clerk's arthritic fingers hunt and peck across a keyboard that predated the internet. Behind her, through the smudged glass door, she could see the bench where she'd left Enid.
"Just the one night?" the clerk asked without looking up.
"Yes."
"Checkout's at eleven."
"Understood."
The printer wheezed to life, producing a receipt that curled at the edges. The clerk slid a key across the counter. An actual key, attached to a plastic tag with the number four marked on it in chipped paint.
Wednesday took it and left without another word.
Outside, the temperature had dropped further. Her breath misted in the air. She crossed the cracked asphalt toward the wooden bench fixed to the ground near the entrance.
Enid Sinclair sat hunched, wrapped in Wednesday's long black coat. Black earmuffs covered her ears, the only other thing protecting her from the December cold. Where her legs emerged from beneath the coat, they were bare and thick with mud and blood, feet raw from the forest floor. Her hands rested in her lap, caked with the same mixture of grime that matted her blonde hair and streaked her face.
She was staring at nothing, her blue eyes unfocused and distant. Her breathing was shallow, rapid.
Wednesday stopped in front of her. "We have a room."
Enid's head didn't move, but her eyes tracked to Wednesday's face. There was recognition there now, pushing through the shadow of something primal.
"Can you walk?"
Enid blinked slowly. Then nodded.
"Come along."
Wednesday turned and started toward room four. Behind her, she heard Enid stand, heard the shuffle of bare feet on cold pavement. She didn't look back. She walked slowly, deliberately, giving Enid time to follow.
The door to room four was painted a sickly green that had faded to something approximating gangrene. Wednesday unlocked it and pushed it open. The room exhaled stale air and old cigarette smoke. She stepped inside and held the door.
Enid hesitated at the threshold. Her nostrils flared. Her hands flexed, fingers curling like she expected claws that weren't there anymore.
"It's safe," Wednesday stated confidently.
Enid stepped inside.
Wednesday closed the door and locked it. She turned to survey the room properly. Two double beds with thin floral spreads that had probably been garish once but were now faded to a uniform beige. Wallpaper peeling at the seams. A painting of a lighthouse bolted to the wall above the dresser, as if someone might steal it. A television from the previous decade. The bathroom door hung slightly crooked on its hinges.
She'd stayed in worse.
Enid stood in the middle of the room, swaying slightly. The coat hung off one shoulder. She was shaking, whether from cold or something else.
Wednesday walked to the bathroom and flicked on the light. Fluorescent tubes buzzed to life, illuminating cracked tile and a rust stain in the bathtub. She reached into the shower and turned the water on. It sputtered, coughed, then streamed from the showerhead in an uneven spray. She tested the temperature with her hand and adjusted the single knob until the water ran lukewarm.
She turned back to find Enid standing in the bathroom doorway.
"You need to shower."
Enid's eyes found the mirror above the sink. She stared at her reflection like she was seeing a stranger. Slowly, she lifted one filthy hand to her face, touching her cheek, her mouth. Her fingers came away streaked with red.
Wednesday stepped close and reached for the coat. Enid didn't resist as Wednesday eased it from her shoulders. It fell to the floor, revealing the state of Enid's body.
She was naked, beneath layers of mud and blood, most of it not her own. Scratches crisscrossed her ribs in patterns that suggested she'd run through dense underbrush at full speed. Bruises bloomed across her arms and thighs in various stages of healing, purple and yellow and green.
Wednesday took Enid's elbow gently and guided her toward the shower. Enid stepped over the lip of the tub and into the spray. The water hit her and she flinched, then leaned into it with a sound that was half-sigh, half-whimper. Her eyes closed.
Wednesday watched for a moment, then began to undress.
Her shirt came off first. Black, torn along the side, stiff with dried blood. When she pulled it over her head, the fabric stuck to a wound on her ribs. She made a small sound of displeasure and tugged it free.
Her torso was a map of damage. Bruises showed the path of heavy fingers across her ribs. Scratches ran down her left side in four parallel lines. On her shoulder, just above the collarbone, was a bite mark. Deep. The punctures were mostly scabbed over but the flesh around them was swollen and angry, turning colors that suggested infection was contemplating a visit.
She stepped out of her practical pants and underwear and joined Enid in the shower.
The water was barely warm. It hit Wednesday's skin and ran red down the drain, swirling into the rust stain.
---
The forest had been dense, the kind of old growth that blocked out the sun even at midday. Wednesday had been running for what felt like hours, following the trail of broken branches and claw marks gouged into tree bark.
Sounds of violence reached her first, a chaotic mix of snarls and the wet tearing of flesh.
She burst through a wall of undergrowth and into a small clearing.
The larger werewolf, fur a soft pale blonde, was surrounded. Enid. Three werewolves circled her, hackles raised, teeth bared. They were larger than Enid, coordinated in their movements. Pack hunters.
One lunged.
Enid met it mid-air in a collision of fur and fangs. They hit the ground and rolled, a tangle of limbs and violence. The other two closed in from opposite sides.
Uncle Fester crashed through the trees to Wednesday's left, a smile wide with excitement, electricity crackling between his fingers. He grabbed one of the attacking werewolves by the scruff of its neck and hurled it into a tree trunk. It hit with a yelp and a crack of breaking wood.
Wednesday ran forward, snatching a fallen branch from the ground. The second attacker turned on her, lips pulled back from yellow fangs. She swung. It dodged, and she adjusted mid-swing, bringing the branch down on its shoulder. Something crunched.
The werewolf stumbled back with a howl.
Enid tore free from the first attacker and scrambled backward, panting. Blood dripped from her muzzle. Her blue eyes swept the clearing, unfocused.
Then they locked on Wednesday.
Everything stopped.
Wednesday saw the shift in Enid's posture, the way her muscles coiled. She knew what was about to happen.
She didn't move.
Enid lunged.
The weight of one alpha werewolf slammed into Wednesday and drove her back into a tree. The impact knocked the air from her lungs. Claws raked across her ribs, shredding fabric and skin. Teeth closed on her shoulder and bit down.
Pain, a precise and sudden fact.
"Enid."
The wolf's eyes were inches from hers, dilated and stripped of any recognition.
"Enid."
Fester was shouting something, but Wednesday couldn't hear the words over the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
The wolf's jaws tightened. Blood ran hot down Wednesday's chest.
"Enid Sinclair. Sit!"
Something changed in those blue eyes. Just for a second. A ripple of confusion, of awareness.
Then the wolf released her and bolted, disappearing into the trees.
Wednesday staggered, pressing her hand to her shoulder. Blood pulsed between her fingers. She took one breath, two, then started after Enid.
Fester turned to the remaining werewolves. Electricity arced from his hands, forcing the wolves back with sharp yelps. "I've got the dogs," he shouted after Wednesday. "Don't lose her."
Wednesday ran.
---
The water in the shower had turned from red to pink to clear. Wednesday stood under the spray, washing the last of the dried blood from her arms. Enid was pressed against the opposite wall of the shower, head down, hair plastered to her face and neck.
Wednesday reached for the small bar of soap on the ledge. It was the size of a credit card, wrapped in paper that proclaimed it antibacterial. She worked it between her hands until it produced a meager lather.
She stepped closer to Enid. "Turn around."
Enid turned slowly, mechanically. Her shoulders hunched inward.
Wednesday placed her soapy hands on Enid's back and began to wash her. The soap cut through the grime in streaks, revealing pale skin underneath. There were scratches everywhere, some shallow, some deep enough to scar. Wednesday worked methodically, her touch firm but careful. She lathered soap over Enid's shoulders, down her spine, along the curve of her lower back.
Enid's breathing was too fast, shallow and uneven.
Wednesday moved to her front. She washed Enid's arms, her collarbone, the hollow of her throat. Enid kept her eyes closed, face tilted down. Wednesday cupped water in her hands and poured it over Enid's hair, working through the matted tangles with her fingers. Clumps of mud dissolved and ran down the drain.
Enid leaned forward suddenly. Her forehead came to rest against the tile beside Wednesday's head. Her nose was close to Wednesday's neck, so close that Wednesday could feel the warmth of her breath.
Enid inhaled deeply.
---
It was night. The forest was dark, lit only by the full moon filtering through the canopy. Wednesday was no longer running, her breathing labored, each breath burning in her chest. Pain flared down her arm from the bite on her shoulder. She wouldn't allow it to interrupt this moment.
Before her stood Enid, after all this time spent tracking her. It was picturesque in the way only imminent death could achieve.
Pressure from Enid's clawed paw increased against her chest. But her body would break long before her resolve. She made a promise.
"Enid."
The wolf didn't stop.
"Enid. I know you're in there."
The wolf's ears flattened against its skull. Its lips pulled back from its teeth in a proper snarl now.
"I will not be returning to Nevermore without you, Enid. I will learn to accept you shedding in the dorm if I have to." Each breath required more effort than the last. If these were her last, Enid could have them.
She remained pinned against the tree, jaws inches from her throat. Hot breath washed her face, smelling the tang of blood on its muzzle. "Despite my best efforts to push you away, you became a friend I never believed I wanted. I should probably admit it more. But I am not willing to give you up."
Wednesday didn't flinch. She didn't look away.
Slowly, deliberately, she lifted one hand and placed it against the wolf's cheek. Her fingers slid up, behind its ear, the same way she'd pet a dog. If she'd ever been inclined to pet dogs.
"You are not a lone wolf. You are Enid. I am your pack. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."
The wolf's growl faltered. Its eyes flickered, something shifting in their depths. For just a second, they looked less like an animal's and more like Enid's. Blue and bright and devastatingly human.
Recognition.
The wolf jerked back as if burned. Then leaned forward and dragged a rough tongue across Wednesday's face.
---
The phantom warmth on her cheek faded, replaced by the damp humidity of the bathroom. Enid was still leaning close, her nose near Wednesday's hair. She inhaled again, deep and slow. Her hands came up tentatively and rested on Wednesday's waist.
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, looking up at Enid's face. She reached up and cupped Enid's cheek with one hand, her thumb tracing along the cheekbone, sliding behind her ear.
Enid's eyes opened. They were clear now. Human. Wet with tears that mixed with the shower water.
"Wednesday," she whispered. Her voice cracked on the name.
"Yes."
Enid's face crumpled. She pulled back abruptly, her hands dropping away from Wednesday's waist. "I hurt you. Oh my god, I hurt you."
"You did."
Enid's breathing hitched. She pressed her hands over her mouth, staring at the bite mark on Wednesday's shoulder. The water was still running, still washing away traces of blood that seeped from beneath the scab.
Wednesday reached past Enid and turned off the shower. The silence was sudden and complete, broken only by the steady drip of water from the faucet and their breathing.
"Come."
She stepped out of the tub and grabbed two white towels from the rack. She wrapped one around herself, and held the other out to Enid.
Enid took it with shaking hands. She wrapped it around her body, securing it under her arms, and followed Wednesday into the main room.
---
Wednesday sat on the edge of the nearest bed. Water dripped from her hair onto her shoulders, running down to soak into the towel. The bite mark looked worse under the harsh overhead light, purple and red and swollen.
Enid stood a few feet away, still clutching her towel like a lifeline. She was staring at Wednesday's shoulder, at the bruises striping her ribs, at the scratches that stood out angry and red against pale skin. Her face had gone white under the fading grime.
"I did that," she said. Her voice was small. "All of that."
"Some of it. The bite is yours. The scratches on my ribs. The bruises are from various other sources. Trees, mostly. Another wolf that now knows better. One particularly aggressive fence."
"This isn't funny."
"I wasn't joking."
Enid's eyes filled with tears again. "Wednesday, I could have killed you."
"You underestimate my ability to survive."
"But I tried to kill you."
"You fought yourself not to. I felt it." Wednesday stood and crossed to the small dresser against the wall. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a battered first aid kit, its white plastic cracked and yellowed with age. She brought it back to the bed and held it out to Enid. "Here."
Enid didn't take it. She stood frozen, staring at the bite mark like it was the only thing in the room.
"I don't..."
"Enid."
"What if I hurt you again? What if I can't control it?"
Wednesday set the kit on the bed and stepped closer. Enid immediately took a step back, her shoulders hitting the wall behind her.
"Stay."
Enid stopped. Her jaw was tight, trembling. She looked like she wanted to run again.
Wednesday closed the distance between them. She was shorter than Enid by several inches, but she looked up at her with that unflinching stare that had made bullies and monsters back down.
"I am not some delicate thing. I do not break easily. I have been stabbed, poisoned, drowned, and electrocuted. I have faced monsters and murderers, and even carolers. A wolf does not frighten me."
"I'm not just a wolf." Enid's voice broke. "I'm an alpha. I'm dangerous. I can't always control it."
"You are an alpha werewolf who transformed under a full moon to save my life, knowing the cost. You are the person who has followed me into danger more times than any sane person would. You are brave and loyal to the point of stupidity." Wednesday's voice didn't rise, but it sharpened like a blade. "And you are standing in front of me, alive, when I spent twenty-two days believing you might not be. So if you think I am going to allow you to collapse into guilt and self-flagellation, you are mistaken."
Enid's breath shuddered out of her. "Wednesday..."
"I was not afraid of you. Not for a single moment. Not when you attacked me. I was afraid for you. That you would be hurt. I was trying not to be afraid that I might lose you." She paused, then continued. "You are my best friend."
Enid's face twisted. A sob broke out of her and she covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hold it in, trying to keep it quiet.
Wednesday didn't move. She gave her time. Enid's shoulders shook.
Then Wednesday stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Enid in a desperate hug. Her hands landed awkwardly between Enid's shoulder blades before settling. Enid brought her arms up around Wednesday's back and held her. Some of the tension began to leave Wednesday's shoulders.
Enid buried her face in Wednesday's damp hair and cried. Great, heaving sobs that shook her whole body.
Wednesday stood there, still and solid as stone, one hand resting between Enid's shoulder blades. The other moved up to the back of Enid's neck, fingers pressing gently into the base of her skull. Enid’s trembling slowed, then stopped.
"You're here," Wednesday said quietly. "You came back."
"You found me." The words were muffled against Wednesday's hair.
"Of course. Never doubt that."
Enid pulled back just enough to look at Wednesday's face. Her eyes were red and streaming, her nose running. "I didn't... I thought maybe you'd give up. That it was too dangerous. That I wasn't worth it."
"You are not a lone wolf, Enid. Lone wolves are solitary by nature. You chose solitude to protect others. There is a difference." Wednesday held Enid's gaze. "And you will never be alone as long as I am alive. I told you in the forest. I'm your pack."
Enid stared at Wednesday like she was seeing her for the first time, like Wednesday had just revealed herself to be something entirely unexpected. Her gaze dropped to Wednesday's mouth for a heartbeat, then climbed back to her eyes.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and sudden.
Enid swallowed. "Wednesday, I..."
"Sit. Fix the damage you're so concerned about so I don't have to endure this unnecessary self loathing."
Enid blinked, the moment breaking. Then nodded. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and moved to the bed, sitting down carefully. Wednesday sat beside her, angling her injured shoulder toward Enid in silent offering.
Enid opened the first aid kit. Inside were bandages, antiseptic wipes, gauze, medical tape, all of it looking older than Wednesday herself. Her hands were still shaking as she pulled out a wipe and a stack of gauze pads. She held the antiseptic wipe and paused, hovering near the bite mark.
"This is going to hurt."
"I'm aware."
Enid pressed the wipe to the wound. Wednesday's jaw tightened but she didn't flinch, didn't pull away, didn't make a sound. Enid dabbed carefully, cleaning the dried blood from around the punctures, wiping away the crusted edges. The antiseptic stung like fire and Wednesday's breathing went deliberately even, controlled.
"You know," Enid said softly, her voice still thick with tears, "most people would have run screaming from a crazed werewolf trying to rip their throat out."
"I'm not most people."
"No. You're really, really not." Enid's fingers brushed the edge of the bite as she positioned a clean piece of gauze over it. She pressed medical tape along the edges carefully before lightly smoothing it with her thumb. "Does it hurt? Like, a lot?"
"It's tolerable."
"Wednesday."
Wednesday turned her head slightly, meeting Enid's eyes. They were still wet but clear now, focused. "Yes. It hurts. But I've experienced worse."
"Have you, though?"
"The time I was attacked by a resurrected pilgrim was less pleasant. The conversation was considerably more painful. And the company less pleasant."
Enid's mouth twitched despite herself, a ghost of her usual smile and a tiny shake of her head. "You are literally the weirdest person I have ever met."
"Your flattery isn't necessary."
Enid moved on to the scratches on Wednesday's ribs, cleaning them with the same careful attention. Her touch was feather-light, fingers barely grazing Wednesday's skin. Wednesday sat perfectly still and watched Enid's face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her lower lip caught between her teeth the way it always was when she was focused on something important.
"You kept finding me," Enid said after a moment, quiet. "Every time I thought I'd lost you, every time I ran, you were just... there. How did you even track me?"
"Fester proved very helpful. It was not his first time tracking someone. And you're not as subtle as you think."
"I wasn't trying to be subtle. I was trying to stay away from people."
"You failed."
Enid huffed a small laugh. It was shaky, fragile, but real. "Yeah. I guess I did." She finished with the scratches and sat back, surveying her work. The white gauze stood out starkly against Wednesday's pale skin. "There. You're all patched up."
"Thank you."
Reaching across to the pocket of her discarded pants, Wednesday withdrew something small and red. "My visions helped considerably."
"You got your visions back using my hair clip?"
"The hair clip merely served as my means to see you." Wednesday looked at Enid's hand as she offered the clip back to Wednesday. "But it is yours."
"So you can always find me."
They sat in silence for a moment. The fluorescent light hummed overhead. Outside, a car door slammed. An engine started and faded into the distance.
Enid's eyes drifted to the second bed, still made with its thin floral bedspread, untouched and somehow lonely looking. She started to stand.
Wednesday's hand closed around her wrist.
Enid froze.
"I ran you through forests for days after tracking your movements for weeks," Wednesday said. Her voice was low and steady, each word deliberate. "I do not plan to let you leave my side until I am satisfied you are safe. And even then, I suspect I may have developed a reluctance."
She lifted the edge of the bedspread with her free hand.
Enid stared at the offered space. At Wednesday's hand still wrapped around her wrist, pale fingers against Enid's skin. At Wednesday's face, which was as expressionless as ever, but her eyes were dark and intent in a way that made the corners of Enid's mouth rise.
"I brought that obnoxiously pink sweater," Wednesday continued. "But my bag is with Fester and Thing. No doubt he'll find us by morning. I would suggest we attempt to minimize further exploration for now. While there is a certificate stating this room does not violate any health codes, I suspect it might be older than both of us combined. The bed should be safe enough for one night."
Enid's mouth quirked, the tiniest hint of a smile. "You brought my pink sweater?"
"You have an alarming attachment to it. I assumed you would want it."
"You hate that sweater."
"I tolerate its existence because you wear it."
Something shifted in Enid's expression. Softened. The tension in her shoulders eased. She slid into the bed beside Wednesday, her towel still wrapped around her. Wednesday lay back against the thin pillow and Enid curled into her side immediately, instinctively, like it was the only natural thing in the world. Her head came to rest on Wednesday's uninjured shoulder. Her nose pressed against Wednesday's collarbone.
"Thank you," Enid whispered. "For finding me. For not giving up. For making me feel like I could be me again."
Wednesday's arm came around her, hand settling at the small of Enid's back. Her other hand rested on Enid's damp hair, fingers spreading across her scalp.
"You are the color that invaded my monochrome world. I did not ask for it. I resented it, initially." Wednesday's thumb moved slowly across Enid's hair. "But now I find myself reluctant to return to grey."
Enid's breath hitched against Wednesday's skin. She turned her face into Wednesday's neck, hiding a wide smile. "You... you really mean that."
"I do not waste time with pleasantries. I meant every word."
Enid didn't answer. But her fingers curled into the edge of Wednesday's towel, holding on like Wednesday might disappear if she let go.
Wednesday's hand moved slowly through Enid's hair, a steady rhythm. Crown to nape, over and over. It was still damp, still tangled in places, but Wednesday didn't stop. She'd never been one for repetitive gestures of comfort, had never understood the appeal of mindless touch.
This was different.
"Sleep," Wednesday said quietly. "You're safe now."
"Are you going to sleep?"
"Eventually."
"You're just going to watch me sleep? That's super creepy, Wednesday."
"I'm aware."
Enid huffed a laugh against Wednesday's skin, warm breath tickling her collarbone. Then she fell silent. Her breathing began to even out, deepening. Her grip on Wednesday's towel loosened gradually, her hand going slack.
But she didn't let go.
Wednesday stared at the water-stained ceiling. There was a pattern there if she looked long enough, something that might have been a face or might have been nothing at all. The fluorescent light flickered once, twice, casting brief shadows across the room.
Her hand didn't stop moving through Enid's hair.
Outside, the wind picked up. The neon sign buzzed and crackled, its dying light seeping through the gap in the curtains. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. A truck rumbled past on the highway.
Wednesday's eyes closed. She thought back to the forest, the weight lifting from her chest as Enid stepped back and fell to her knees. The haunting howl that escaped her as the huge wolf began to slowly recede.
Physical contact had never been something she desired, but her arms couldn't wrap around Enid quickly enough. The strong furred arm circling her before it finally withdrew, leaving only Enid. The Enid she had set out to reclaim.
The memory of Enid, radiating her lupine warmth against the cold, her rapid heartbeat thumping against Wednesday's aching chest.
Her fingers were still tangled in Enid's hair.
She didn't let go either.