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This had to be a goddamn dream.
It couldn’t be real.
They couldn’t be real.
No.
Wednesday had to still be asleep- trapped inside some twisted nightmare her mind had created just to punish her. Because none of this made sense. Not the warmth in the air, not the normality of the weathervane, not the sound of laughter, not the fact that she was sitting here like everything was fine.
Like she was fine.
Her thoughts were spiraling when a voice cut through the fog.
“Wednesday! Are you even listening to me?”
Wednesday blinked, her expression snapping back into place like a mask.
“What?” she answered sharply, her eyes turning to Enid.
Enid sits in front of her, bright as always, smiling so wide it was almost offensive.
“Do you want to come with Tyler and me to the movies later? Together with Ajax, of course!” Enid’s smile only grew, practically glowing with excitement.
Wednesday didn’t answer immediately.
Her gaze drifted slowly, unwillingly toward Tyler.
He was sitting right next to Enid, one arm around her, looking far too casual for someone who had once made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. And those feelings were back.
“I don’t watch movies. You should know that by now.” Her tone is icy as her eyes settle back on Enid.
Enid’s smile falters for only a second, but she quickly recovers, undeterred as always.
“We know but it’s a romance movie so-”
Before Enid can even finish her sentence, Wednesday cuts in, her voice sharp enough to slice through steel.
“I’d rather endure torture than watch a romance film.”
The words land like a final verdict.
Without waiting for a response, Wednesday opens her book, flipping to the page she had marked earlier. Her expression is unreadable, but her tone stays harsh- deliberately dismissive.
“It will be torture for you, cockroach.”
Wednesday’s breath hitched.
For a moment, her fingers froze on the page. The words didn’t just register- they hit, sinking under her skin like something sharp and unwelcome.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her eyes locked onto Tyler.
“What did you just call me?” Her voice came out calm… almost. But there was the slightest tremor beneath it- so subtle most people wouldn’t notice.
But she noticed.
Tyler blinked, genuinely confused, and raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “I always call you that.”
Enid nodded immediately, as if this was completely normal.
“That’s true,” she added quickly, looking between them. “He always calls you that.”
Wednesday didn’t move. Her stare stayed fixed on Tyler, sharp and unblinking.
Enid’s expression shifted, her smile fading as concern replaced it. “Roomie…” she said softly, stepping a little closer. “You look pale. Like… more pale than usual.” Her voice dropped into a worried whisper.
“Everything alright? Or are you going to be sick?”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened.
She hated that her body had reacted. Hated that they noticed. Hated that Tyler was sitting there looking at her like it meant nothing.
Because it should mean nothing.
And yet-
Something about the way he said it- like it was natural, like it belonged to him- made her stomach twist.
Wednesday snapped her book shut with a quiet but aggressive thud.
“I’m fine,” she said coldly.
But the way she avoided Tyler’s eyes told a different story.
“Sorry I’m late-” a male voice rang through the coffee shop. Wednesday barely looked up as he slid into the seat next to her.
“It’s alright, Ajax!” Enid’s smile was impossibly bright, lighting up the small corner of the café.
“What’s up?” Ajax said, turning toward Tyler. The two exchanged a casual handshake, grinning.
Ridiculous.
In Wednesday’s eyes, it was all ridiculous—but what was even more absurd was Ajax leaning toward her, puckering as if to kiss her.
Wednesday recoiled immediately. “What exactly are you doing there?” she demanded, her voice sharp, precise, like a scalpel.
Ajax raised a perfectly arrogant eyebrow. “Giving my girlfriend a kiss? Like usual?”
Girlfriend!?
Her eyes widened ever so slightly- not enough to be obvious, but enough to register in her own mind. Being a girlfriend to someone? Preposterous. Ridiculous. Impossible. Her thoughts spiraled faster than she could rein them in. This had to be a bad dream. A cruel punishment conjured by her own mind.
Besides-
when was she even back in the Weathervane? She had been in a cabin in the woods, on her way to find Enid, who was still trapped in her alpha form. And now… here was Enid, sitting in a coffee shop. The person Wednesday hated most was right next to Enid, having his arm around Enid if it were natural. And Ajax- well, he was Ajax, and now apparently her boyfriend.
No.
This had to be a sick dream. A twisted punishment her brain had cooked up to make her feel powerless, confused… and utterly trapped.
Wednesday blinked slowly, trying to convince herself it wasn’t real, though the warmth of Ajax’s presence and the casual proximity of Tyler said otherwise.
Her stomach twisted.
This is impossible. It can’t be real.
—————————————————————————
“A sick dream, no doubt. I won’t linger. We need answers.” Wednesday mutters to Thing as she packs her bag, her fingers moving with mechanical precision over the tools and gadgets she always carries.
Thing’s fingers flicker in response- quick, tiny movements that show he understands. At least he knows this is all wrong.
“No. I will not talk to them. I’m going to find out what happened.” Her voice is firm, controlled, but there’s an undercurrent of tension she doesn’t bother hiding from Thing.
She slings her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave, but something on Enid’s side of the room catches her eye.
Her steps quicken, purposeful, as her hand shoots out and grabs the flannel shirt- Tyler’s shirt. The fabric slips through her fingers like a piece of evidence.
Her eyes flick to Thing. His fingers are even faster now, tiny movements betraying his silent agreement with her thoughts.
“So… they’re really together?” The words escape her almost involuntarily, her throat tightening as if each syllable is lodged inside her.
What is going on with her?
Wednesday Addams- always composed, always in control of her emotions- feels herself unraveling. Her chest feels tight, her mind spinning. Logic tells her this is impossible, yet everything she sees screams otherwise.
For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t know how to feel.
And that terrifies her.
Sounds reached her ears- laughter, the shuffle of approaching footsteps- light and casual, but far too close for comfort.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, scanning the room in a precise sweep, every shadow, every movement cataloged and analyzed in seconds.
“We need to go. Now.” Her voice dropped into a sharp, commanding tone, leaving no room for argument.
Thing’s fingers twitched in acknowledgment, responding with their usual silent efficiency.
—————————————————————————
She didn’t know how she had managed it- how she had slipped out of her dorm room without a sound, without a trace but somehow she had.
Her steps were careful, silent, guided by instinct more than conscious thought. The hallways stretched ahead, dimly lit, empty too quiet. Too easy.
And unfortunately, she had taken the shirt with her.
Tyler’s flannel, soft and warm against her hands, now clutched tightly in her grip. She hadn’t meant to- she didn’t even know why she had- but the fabric smelled faintly of him, and the thought made her chest tighten in a way she refused to analyze.
She shoved the feeling aside. There were bigger problems. She had to find answers.
But the shirt stayed in her bagpack a small, undeniable reminder that maybe just maybe this nightmare wasn’t entirely hers to control.
—————————————————————————
The sound of running water drifted through the room- steady, rhythmic, unmistakable.
She shouldn’t be here.
It was wrong.
She was wasting time. She should be figuring out what happened, why reality had twisted itself into this absurd, nauseating version of her life. She should be searching for answers, for a way out.
But instead-
Her legs had carried her here.
Her mind had allowed it.
As if some invisible force had guided her through the halls, through the darkness, straight into Tyler Galpin’s bedroom.
The room smelled like him- soap, cologne, something warm. Everything was painfully normal. His bed unmade, clothes tossed carelessly on a chair, a hoodie hanging off the edge like he’d taken it off in a hurry.
Wednesday’s eyes flicked across the space, taking in every detail like evidence at a crime scene.
The sound of the shower continued, behind the bathroom door.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
This was insane.
She hated him.
She hated what he was.
So why was she here?
Her grip tightened on the shirt, knuckles pale, as her gaze landed on the slightly open bathroom door.
Water ran.
Steam curled out into the room.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought she didn’t want whispered itself into existence.
What if this isn’t a dream?
—————————————————————————
It took Tyler thirty whole minutes to finally finish his shower.
Wednesday stood frozen in the dim room the entire time, stiff as a statue, her mind screaming at her to leave- yet her body refusing to cooperate. The air felt too warm, too thick, the faint scent of soap clinging to everything.
Then the bathroom door clicked.
And opened.
Tyler stepped out like he didn’t have a care in the world, a towel slung low around his hips. His curls were wet, messy, dripping water down the sides of his face. His skin still glistened, his muscles damp as if he hadn’t bothered drying off properly at all.
He looked up-
And immediately stopped.
His entire body went still.
For a moment, the only sound was the faint drip of water hitting the floor.
His eyes landed on Wednesday.
Then on the flannel shirt in her hand.
His brows furrowed, disbelief mixing with confusion.
“Wednesday…?” his voice came out rough, quieter than usual.
He blinked once, as if he thought he might be the one dreaming.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Tyler’s voice was sharp, but not panicked- more annoyed than anything, like she’d interrupted something normal.
But before Wednesday could even form an answer, he kept going, stepping further into the room, towel still hanging low around his hips.
“You told me you would stop with the surprise visits,” he said, shaking his head. “You said you’d text me first.”
Wednesday’s eyebrow lifted slowly.
Her expression stayed blank, but her eyes narrowed slightly- judging him, judging the entire situation.
“I don’t have a phone,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Tyler scoffed, almost offended by the lie.
“Bullshit.” He tilted his head. “Ajax and I bought you one for your birthday. Did you forget to charge it again?”
Wednesday’s lips pressed together.
A pause.
Then, quieter than she intended-
“Perhaps.”
Tyler’s mouth tugged into a sly smile, the kind that made her want to shove him into the nearest wall.
“Typical you,” he murmured, amused.
Wednesday’s stare hardened.
Because what disturbed her most wasn’t his confidence. It was the fact that he was acting like this was normal.
Like she belonged here.
Tyler’s voice stayed calm, almost casual, as he leaned over to grab another towel and started drying his hair.
“So… it’s Thursday. Not Wednesday.” He glanced at her through the mirror. “So why are you here, Wednesday? Our meetings are only on Wednesday.”
Wednesday didn’t answer.
Her eyes betrayed her first- drifting over his bare upper body without her permission, as if her mind had momentarily disconnected from her self-control.
And that alone made her stomach twist.
She’d seen him shirtless before. Twice. Once when he hurt himself, once in Willow Hill.
So why did it feel different now?
Why did her chest feel tight?
Her jaw clenched.
“Meetings?” was all she managed to ask, her voice sharper than she intended.
Tyler paused, then shrugged slightly, like it was obvious.
“Yeah,” he said. “Well… the sex thing.”
Wednesday’s eyes widened.
Her breath stopped.
For a second, the entire room seemed to tilt.
No.
She wouldn’t.
Not even in her dreams.
She wasn’t like her mother. She wasn’t like anyone.
She would never let herself become something so… weak. So human. So pathetic.
This had to be a lie.
A dream.
A nightmare.
And not even one of the good nightmares.
This was the kind Enid talked about- the horrible ones. The ones that left you sweating and shaking, trapped in something you couldn’t control.
Wednesday took a slow step back, her voice coming out cold, but not entirely steady.
“That’s impossible.”
Tyler’s brow furrowed, confused now.
“Impossible?”
Wednesday’s fingers curled around the flannel in her hand like it was a weapon.
Her stare turned deadly.
“I would rather cut out my own tongue than willingly do that with you.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Tyler blinked at her, towel still in his hands, like he didn’t know whether to laugh… or be offended.
But Wednesday didn’t care.
All she could think was:
Get out. Wake up. Now.
Tyler didn’t even flinch.
He just kept drying his hair like he hadn’t just thrown a grenade into the room.
“Well-” he said, voice maddeningly calm, “you were the one screaming pretty loudly last week.” He glanced at her through the mirror, eyes half-lidded.
“And you came like… twice.”
Wednesday’s blood ran cold.
Her fingers curled tighter around the flannel, knuckles whitening.
Tyler continued, completely unfazed.
“So you definitely liked it.” He shrugged. “Like the other four times we did it.”
Something in Wednesday’s expression shifted- barely noticeable, but lethal.
Her jaw tightened so hard it hurt.
It took everything in her not to rip him apart right there, to reach into her backpack, grab one of her blades, and remind him what happens when someone lies to her face.
Because this had to be a lie.
It had to be.
And yet-
The worst part wasn’t his words.
It was the horrifying, sinking feeling in her gut- like her body recognized something her mind refused to accept.
Her eyes narrowed, voice dangerously quiet.
“If you say another word,” she hissed, “I will remove your tongue and feed it to Piranhas.“
Tyler blinked.
Then infuriatingly his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
“You always say that,” he murmured.
Wednesday took one slow step closer.
Her stare could’ve killed.
“And one day,” she said, cold and precise, “I will mean it.”
Tyler’s grin only widened, like her threat was the most entertaining thing he’d heard all day.
“This foreplay always gets better,” he said, voice low and amused, leaning slightly against the doorframe like he owned the entire moment.
Wednesday’s eyes darkened.
—————————————————————————
The next things happen so fast- she doesn’t even remember it.
Wednesday sits on his bed and buttons up her blouse, her fingers working slowly, not as fast as Tyler’s did in her several moments ago.
As if her body hasn’t fully caught up with what her mind is trying to deny.
Tyler is sprawled behind her like he owns the space, like he owns her- and the worst part is that her body doesn’t immediately reject it. She hates that.
She hates that she doesn’t move away.
“Leave so soon, cockroach?” His hand goes to her shoulder.
Warm.
Casual.
Possessive.
She doesn’t even tense up, even though she wants to tense up- but she is
completely relaxed.
She sits there, breathing evenly, as if nothing happened- though the faint heat in her cheeks betrays her.
She swallows.
“Why do you care?” Her tone is back to ice- not the soft she had a few minutes ago when she climaxed three times.
“Don’t,” he says quietly. “Don’t do that-”
But before he can finish, his phone pings.
A notification.
Tyler groans, annoyed, and reaches for it.
The moment he reads the screen, his entire face changes.
His eyes widen.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
He’s on his feet instantly, grabbing clothes and pulling them on with hurried movements, like the room is suddenly on fire.
Wednesday stands too, sliding her skirt back into place with calm precision, even though her pulse is anything but calm.
Her eyes narrow.
“Who was it?” she asks.
Tyler doesn’t look at her.
“Enid,” he answers. “She and Ajax are on their way.”
Wednesday’s expression remains unreadable.
She folds her arms.
“And why would that be a problem?”
Tyler lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head as he buttons his shirt.
“Because we basically just cheated on your boyfriend and my girlfriend,” he says.
Then quieter.
“And they’re cheating with each other too… but they don’t know that we know.”
Wednesday gives a stiff nod, like she’s receiving information in an autopsy report.
Her face doesn’t change.
But something dark flickers behind her eyes.
How wonderful.
What a perfectly twisted nightmare.
She grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, her fingers gripping the strap too tightly.
This wasn’t just a dream.
This was her mind punishing her.
And it was doing an excellent job.
—————————————————————————
She doesn’t even make it out of the house- because the moment she opens the front door, Enid and Ajax are standing there.
“I didn’t know you were here, darling,” Ajax says with a small smile. He leans in to kiss Wednesday, but she immediately turns her head away, avoiding him without hesitation.
Ajax lets out a quiet sigh. “Oh, come on, Wednesday,” he mutters, clearly annoyed, but still trying to sound playful.
Tyler comes downstairs and heads straight for Enid, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
“I missed you,” Enid says softly, a small, genuine smile tugging at her face. Tyler nods in return. “Missed you too.”
Liar.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have… her body shuddered at the thought- fucked her senseless just twenty minutes ago.
Her hands clenched at her sides, fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt.
This is a nightmare.
A twisted, impossible, horrible nightmare.
—————————————————————————
She tenses up as Ajax casually drapes an arm around her in the cinema.
Her body stiffens, every instinct screaming that this is wrong.
How could she even date him?
Her mind refuses to stop turning it over. She’s never even spoken properly to Ajax- never had a real conversation beyond the usual surface chatter. And now… now she’s supposed to be his girlfriend?
Even worse, it’s obvious he’s in love with Enid.
She sees it in the way he looks at her- all the time- thinking she doesn’t notice. But she does.
Wednesday’s jaw tightens, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat.
This is impossible. None of this is real. It can’t be.
Her mind races, trying to untangle the nightmare logic her body is forcing her to play along with. Every laugh, every glance, every forced smile feels like another layer of torment.
And yet- she’s stuck here, sitting beside him, pretending.
The movie drags on in full length, every scene a new opportunity for Wednesday to cringe, her expression unreadable but tense, every muscle taut with irritation.
Finally, Enid excuses herself to the restroom, and Ajax announces he’s going to get more drinks-
what a convenient coincidence.
Suddenly, she’s alone with Tyler again.
His hand finds hers, brushing against her fingers with deliberate slowness. She stiffens for a moment… and then, impossibly, she relaxes.
Why?
She hates him.
He’s done terrible things.
He’s a monster.
And yet…
It feels like he’s her monster.
Her Hyde.
The thought makes her chest tighten in a way she refuses to analyze.
And deep down, though she’d never admit it to anyone- not Thing, not Enid, not even herself- she kind of likes it.
—————————————————————————
The days passed in a blur of confusion, each one bleeding into the next.
Wednesday searched for answers. She looked everywhere- rooms, texts, even the smallest inconsistencies- but found nothing. Nothing that made sense.
Apparently… this was her new reality.
And god- how she hated it.
She hated it more than anything she had ever known.
Every moment felt like a trap, every glance, every interaction a reminder that she was powerless in this nightmare.
Her chest ached with the weight of it, and for the first time in a long time, Wednesday Addams felt… lost.
She walks downstairs in the Galpin house, straight into the kitchen- where Tyler is already making breakfast.
“Good morning, cockroach.” He grins a little as he turns his head, clearly far too comfortable with her presence. “Slept well?”
Wednesday only nods.
She doesn’t even register what she’s wearing until his eyes flick down briefly and his grin grows.
One of his shirts.
A black flannel.
She didn’t even realize she’d put it on. She didn’t even know he owned black flannels.
But apparently he did.
“Tyler?” a voice called through the house.
Someone stepped into the kitchen—Donavan Galpin, Tyler’s father.
“Wednesday, I didn’t expect you to be here again.”
Again?
Her brow furrowed slightly.
He’s nice to her?
Wednesday blinked, processing the impossible. Her mind twisted itself in knots trying to make sense of it all.
This isn’t reality. This can’t be reality.
Every polite word, every small smile, felt like another layer of the nightmare she couldn’t escape.
“Dad.” Tyler’s voice is quiet, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Leave her alone- she just woke up.”
“Oh,” Donavan says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Then I’m gonna go back up and get some sleep- had a long night.”
Tyler hesitates for a moment, then asks softly, almost under his breath, “Did… Mom… get better?”
“Yes,” Donavan answers, his smile warm and comforting. “She wants to see you soon, but it’s not a good time right now. We can go next week, okay?”
Tyler nods silently, relief flickering across his face, subtle but unmistakable.
Wednesday watches them from the doorway, her mind twisting the moment over and over. The family dynamic, the normalcy- it was all impossible, and yet, there it was, laid out in front of her like a scene from a life she didn’t recognize.
Donavan leaves, and Wednesday steps closer to Tyler, her dark eyes sharp and calculating.
“What is with your mom?” she asks, voice still measured, but something about it feels… off. softer than usual.
Tyler raises an eyebrow, a teasing edge to his expression.
“You really forgot some things? You sure you don’t have amnesia?”
“Definitely not,” she says, tone flat, but her mind is buzzing.
He sighs, running a hand through his damp curls.
“My mom is in Willow Hill,” he begins, voice quieter now. “She got sick after my birth, and it was all crazy- the anger she had, the transformations… she almost died. Then she went to Willow Hill when I was maybe six- I’m not sure anymore. But Dad visits her every week.”
Wednesday blinks, processing, then asks softly- softly, something unheard of for her:
“And you…?”
What is happening?
She is Wednesday Addams. She never asks anything soft.
Tyler swallows, his eyes flicking away for just a moment.
“Once every three months,” he admits, voice low. “Because when she sees me… she goes downhill again. That’s why I don’t visit her so often.”
Wednesday’s fingers curl slightly at her sides.
This isn’t normal.
And yet, hearing him speak like this- human, vulnerable, burdened- something inside her tightens in a way she isn’t used to.
And before she can even process what’s happening, her hand shoots up, gripping his face.
She leans in, pressing her lips to his- just like their first kiss in the Weathervane, the moment she discovered he was her Hyde.
Tyler doesn’t hesitate. He returns the kiss immediately, pulling her closer, matching her intensity.
But it doesn’t last.
Her head snaps back, eyes wide- not a vision this time.
The room blurs around her, sounds fading, the warmth of him vanishing.
Everything goes black.
A heavy, suffocating darkness swallows her, leaving only the echo of what just happened and the terrifying uncertainty of what comes next.
—————————————————————————
She gasps as she wakes, the cold air of the cabin hitting her skin.
Night has fallen outside, the woods dark and still. She sits up, eyes scanning the familiar, cramped space.
She is finally awake.
Finally free- from the Galpin house, from Tyler, from the twisted nightmare that had trapped her mind in a reality that wasn’t hers.
And for a brief moment, relief washes over her, sharp and pure.
But…
Confusion quickly creeps in, curling around her thoughts like smoke.
Her hands shake slightly as she runs them over her arms, grounding herself.
What just happened?
Everything felt so real- every sight, every touch, every unbearable detail.
And now she is here. Back in the cabin. Alone.
But the questions linger, gnawing at her mind.
Was it all a dream? Or was it something more?
Wednesday exhales slowly, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to push the lingering memories away.
Freedom is sweet.
But clarity that might take a little longer.
—————————————————————————
By morning, Wednesday is on the move again- packed and determined, with Uncle Fester and Thing in tow.
Her destination: Enid. She needs answers, guidance, a tether to something real after the chaos of her nightmare.
But there’s another reason she’s moving forward.
She also wants to find him.
Tyler Galpin.
The Hyde.
Her Hyde.
A cold thrill coils in her chest. She knows the danger, knows the risk, knows that pursuing him could very well be her undoing.
And yet, she doesn’t hesitate.
Because some things some people… are worth the storm.
“Why did I slice Tyler’s bonds rather than his jugular? And will that impulsive act of… mercy become my undoing?”
Wednesday Addams doesn’t often make mistakes.
But when she does… she remembers them.