Work Text:
The rain had stopped an hour ago, leaving the world in that damp, expectant hush that settled over Vermont like a shroud.
Wednesday Addams sat at her manual typewriter, the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of keys marking time against the steady drip of water from the eaves outside their dormitory window. The sound was meditative. It was the sound of progress on her novel, The Psychic and the Sociopath, a deeply autobiographical work she intended to shop around to publishers under a pseudonym. Something grim, something like Death’s Helper.
The peace was, as always, temporary.
The door to their room burst open with the force of a small hurricane, and Enid Sinclair tumbled in, a whirlwind of pink and purple and neon yellow that was physically offensive to Wednesday's retinas.
"Okay, okay, okay," Enid panted, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning against it as if she'd just outrun a mob. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were wide with an almost maniacal excitement. "You are going to die when you hear this."
"Statistically unlikely," Wednesday said, not looking up from her work. "I have at least another sixty years of misery to inflict upon the world. What fresh horror has Yoko's gossip mill churned up now?"
Enid pushed off the door and bounded across the room, landing in a bounce on her own bed, which was a catastrophic explosion of pastel colors and plush toys. It looked like a unicorn had vomited there. Wednesday repressed a shudder.
"It's not just gossip!" Enid insisted. "It's a cryptid. A real, live, local cryptid. Hikers have been seeing it near the old mining trail past Jericho. It's small, glows, and scares people but doesn't hurt them. Yoko's cousin's roommate's friend saw it last night and said it looked like a ball of floating jelly with eyes!"
Wednesday's fingers paused for a fraction of a second. A minor cryptid. Non-lethal. Glowing. It was probably just a wayward wisp-beast, a creature known for feeding on ambient fear and static electricity. They were notoriously shy and harmless. A simple relocation job.
She resumed typing. "It's a wisp-beast. Attracted by the electromagnetic frequency of the old mining equipment. It will likely move on in a fortnight once the batteries die."
"But what if it doesn't?" Enid pressed, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. "What if it needs our help? What if it's lost and scared? Think of the adventure! The mystery! The... the us time!"
Wednesday's fingers finally stilled. She turned her head, slowly, fixing Enid with a dark, unblinking stare. "Us time."
Enid beamed, undeterred by the arctic chill in the room. "Yeah! A monster-hunting date!"
"A date." Wednesday repeated, unamused.
"Uh-huh!" Enid hopped off the bed and struck a pose. She was already dressed for the occasion, Wednesday now noticed with a fresh wave of horror.
Enid wore a neon pink hoodie emblazoned with a glittery rainbow and the words "HUGS NOT HUNGER GAMES." Over it, she had strapped on a tactical vest. But instead of ammunition, its pouches bulged with what were clearly bags of gummy worms, a jumbo-sized bag of marshmallows, and a flashlight covered in sparkly unicorn stickers. On her hands were a pair of brightly colored, fingerless gloves with reinforced knuckles—her "werewolf-strength" gloves, she called them. Her hair was pulled into a severe, high ponytail that seemed to defy gravity.
"You bring the doom, I bring the snacks!" Enid declared.
Wednesday stared for a long, considered moment. "If this is courtship, it's inefficient. And unsanitary. You have gummy residue on your tactical vest."
Enid just grinned wider, glancing down. "Strawberry-flavored. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." She clasped her hands together. "Come on, Weds. Please? It's a perfect night. Foggy, creepy, perfect for a little post-curfew adventure. And you know you're curious."
The truth was, Wednesday was curious. Not about the "date" aspect, which was a frivolous human construct designed to waste time and exchange bodily fluids. But about the wisp-beast. A sighting this close to Nevermore was unusual. It warranted investigation. Pure, academic, clinical investigation.
She sighed, a sound like wind through a tomb. "It's not a date. It's pest control. Field research."
"Yes!" Enid pumped her fist. "Field research date. I'll allow it."
Wednesday rose from her desk, her movements fluid and silent. From under her bed, she pulled out a polished mahogany case. Inside lay her crossbow, a beautiful, deadly thing her mother had given her on her thirteenth birthday. She checked the tension on the string, the sharpness of the bolts.
Satisfied, she clicked it shut and reached for a newer addition to her arsenal: a small, sleek gadget Uncle Fester had sent her last week. It was a handheld electromagnetic pulse generator, jury-rigged from an old Soviet defibrillator and a theremin. Perfect for stunning small, electrically-sensitive creatures.
From the shadows of the bookshelf, Thing skittered out, his fingernails clicking with excitement. He made a series of rapid gestures.
"Of course you're coming," Wednesday said, slinging the crossbow case over her shoulder. "Someone needs to carry the extra bolts and document the specimen."
Thing gave a jaunty thumbs-up and hopped into Enid's vest pocket, making her squeak.
"Thing! Your nails are tickling me! Okay, team, let's move out!" Enid whisper-shouted, grabbing Wednesday's free hand and tugging her towards the door.
Wednesday allowed herself to be pulled, her expression unchanging, but her mind cataloging the sensation: Enid's hand was warm, and her grip was surprisingly strong, even without shifting. It was... not entirely unpleasant. Like holding a small, enthusiastic space heater.
Their escape from Nevermore was a masterclass in their contrasting methodologies. Enid handled the dorm monitor, a timid second-year named Agatha who was easily flustered. Enid simply blinked at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes and whispered, "We just need some fresh air for our creative projects! It's a full moon of inspiration!" Agatha, mesmerized by the sheer force of Enid's charm, nodded and looked away.
Wednesday, for her part, simply walked past another student who stepped into the hallway. She fixed the girl with a stare so flat, so devoid of warmth or life, that the girl immediately yelped, muttered an apology, and scurried back into her room, pulling the door shut with a slam. She would later describe the encounter to her friends as having "looked into the abyss, and the abyss blinked first."
They slipped out a side door and into the fog-choked grounds. The world beyond the gate was a study in monochrome, the trees skeletal fingers reaching through the swirling grey mist. Enid, a splash of garish color in the gloom, bounced along the path, her sneakers squelching in the mud.
"This is so romantic!" she chirped, gesturing expansively at the fog. "The mystery, the isolation, the potential for shared danger. It's like a gothic novel, but with better snacks."
Wednesday ducked under a low-hanging branch. "In most gothic novels, the heroine is either imprisoned, gaslit, or consumed by a supernatural entity by now. If this were a novel, your optimism would be a death sentence."
"Pessimist." Enid bumped her shoulder against Wednesday's. "Admit it, you're having fun."
"Fun is a synonym for tedium," Wednesday countered, though she did not move away from the contact. "This is merely tolerable." A branch snapped in the woods to their left. Wednesday's hand instinctively went to the strap of her crossbow case, and she shifted her weight, subtly placing herself half a step closer to Enid.
Enid noticed. Her smile softened. "Sure. 'Tolerable.' That's practically a love confession from you."
"It's an observation," Wednesday said flatly, but her eyes were scanning the tree line.
They walked for another twenty minutes, following the overgrown trail towards the old mine. Enid filled the silence with a running commentary, pointing out constellations that were obscured by clouds, offering Wednesday a gummy worm every five minutes (which were steadfastly refused), and narrating their adventure as if she were the star of her own reality show.
"And now, intrepid monster hunter Enid and her gothic sidekick Wednesday brave the treacherous woods, their hearts pounding in unison, their bond strengthening with every step into the unknown—"
"I am not a sidekick," Wednesday interrupted. "I am the primary investigator. You are the... enthusiastic distraction."
"Awww, you think I'm distracting?" Enid grinned.
Wednesday stopped walking. She held up a hand, silencing Enid's next quip. The fog seemed to thicken, pressing in around them. The usual sounds of the forest, the rustle of unseen creatures, the hoot of a distant owl had vanished. It was an absolute, profound silence.
Then, they saw it.
A faint, pulsating glow emanated from a clearing just ahead. It was a soft, ethereal blue-green, like bioluminescent algae, but it flickered and danced with an erratic energy. They crept forward, and Wednesday motioned for Enid to stay behind her as they peered through the undergrowth.
In the center of the clearing was the creature. It was, as Yoko's cousin's roommate's friend had described, a floating ball of jelly. It was about the size of a beach ball, translucent, with what appeared to be two large, luminous eyes floating in its gelatinous core. Tiny tendrils of static electricity crackled around its form, making the wet leaves on the ground beneath it sizzle faintly. It was currently nudging a fallen hiker's boot with one of its tendrils, looking for all the world like a confused puppy.
"Aww," Enid breathed. "It's kind of cute."
"It's a gelatinous electronivore with a penchant for electromagnetic fields," Wednesday whispered back, already reaching for Fester's gadget. "The cuteness is a defense mechanism. Don't be fooled."
Thing leaped from Enid's pocket and scurried up a tree, brandishing his index finger in a "thumbs-up" to signal he was in position to film.
"Okay, what's the plan, Captain Doom?" Enid whispered, her claws beginning to extend slightly, her eyes taking on a faint golden glow as she tapped into her wolf.
"We lure it into a contained space and stun it with a low-level EMP," Wednesday said, pulling a compact net launcher from her pack. The net was laced with a mild, non-lethal sedative she'd acquired from the Nevermore science lab. "You will act as bait."
"Bait? Why me?"
"Because you're the most electrically resistant," Wednesday lied smoothly. The truth was, she wanted Enid close to her, within sight. "Now go. Be enticing."
Enid shot her a look that said she wasn't buying it for a second, but she was already moving. She stepped into the clearing, arms outstretched. "Hey there, little guy! Ooh, look at you! You're so sparkly!"
The wisp-beast's eyes swiveled towards her. It pulsed with a brighter light, clearly intrigued by the new, warm energy source. It drifted towards her, leaving the boot behind.
"Good. Closer," Wednesday murmured, raising the net launcher. "Just a little closer."
But the wisp-beast was faster than it looked. It zipped towards Enid, who squealed and danced backward, her sneakers slipping on the damp leaves. "Whoa, okay, personal space, buddy!"
The creature, interpreting her movement as play, zipped faster. Enid shrieked-laughed, dodging left, then right. It was following her with unnerving precision, cutting off her escape routes.
"Wednesday! A little help!" Enid yelped as a tendril of static shock zapped her arm. It wasn't painful, just surprising, like a strong shock from a doorknob.
Wednesday fired the net. It sailed through the air, perfectly aimed, but at the last second, the wisp-beast darted straight up, and the net tangled uselessly in a tree branch. The creature, startled by the attack, pulsed a bright, angry red. It didn't look cute anymore. It looked pissed.
It shot a concentrated bolt of static electricity at Wednesday. She dove behind a rotting log, the bolt sizzling into the wood where she'd just been standing. The smell of ozone filled the air.
It had learned. It was adapting. This wasn't just a simple beast; it was intelligent.
"Okay, new plan!" Wednesday yelled, scrambling to her feet. She reached for her crossbow, loading a bolt with a padded, non-lethal tip. "Draw it towards the mine shaft! The metal will attract it!"
Enid nodded, her face set in a determined grin. "On it! Come on, Sparky! Follow the shiny wolf!" She took off towards the gaping black maw of the old mine, her bright clothes a beacon in the gloom. The wisp-beast, enraged, shot after her.
Wednesday ran, parallel to their path, her mind racing. She could see the creature gaining on Enid, its form crackling with barely-contained energy. Enid was fast, but the wisp-beast was faster. It was going to catch her before she reached the mine.
Then, the ground gave way.
It wasn't a natural dip. Wednesday saw the faint shimmer of displaced air a second too late. The creature had set a trap. A root, previously lying innocuously on the ground, snapped up, forming a loop that snagged Enid's ankle. With a yelp, Enid was yanked off her feet, dangling upside down a few feet off the ground.
"Wednesday!" she cried, her arms flailing.
The wisp-beast slowed, hovering just out of reach of its dangling prey, pulsing with a triumphant, malevolent light.
Wednesday didn't think. She moved. Her body acted on an instinct far older and more primal than logic. She sprinted, not towards the mine, but directly at the creature. As she ran, she switched the EMP generator on, cranking the dial past "stun" to a setting Fester had labeled "DO NOT USE ON LIVING TISSUE (PROBABLY)."
The creature turned its luminous eyes towards her, surprised by this sudden, reckless charge. It fired another bolt. Wednesday slid in the mud, the electricity sizzling over her head, and came up directly beneath Enid. With one hand, she slashed at the ensnaring root with a small, sharp knife she kept in her boot. With the other, she hurled the EMP generator directly at the wisp-beast.
The device hit the creature and stuck to its gelatinous surface. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a high-pitched whine filled the air, and the device erupted in a contained sphere of crackling, blue-white energy.
The wisp-beast let out a silent scream, its form convulsing violently. The light around it flickered and died as the EMP discharged, and the creature, now a dull, inert grey, dropped to the forest floor with a wet splat.
Enid tumbled free from the severed root, landing directly on top of Wednesday. They collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs, mud and labored breaths.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Enid was on top, her face inches from Wednesday's. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that Wednesday could feel on her own lips. A strand of pink-streaked hair had escaped her ponytail and fell across Wednesday's cheek.
The world narrowed to just this: the warmth of Enid's body, the frantic beat of her heart, the impossible, vibrant blue of her eyes in the gloom.
Wednesday's own heart was doing something irregular. It was probably the adrenaline. Or the electrical discharge in the area. It was certainly nothing else.
Enid's panicked expression melted into a wide, incredulous grin. "You... you caught me."
Wednesday's voice was a low, controlled rasp. "If you're going to get yourself ensnared, at least do it dramatically. The damsel-in-distress act is cliché."
Enid laughed, a breathless, joyful sound. "You saved me. Again."
Wednesday held her gaze for a beat longer than was strictly necessary. "Habit," she muttered, but the word came out softer than she intended.
From up in the tree, Thing's fingernails were tapping together in slow applause. He had, of course, captured the whole thing.
The moment stretched, fragile and warm in the cold air. Then, the pile of grey jelly on the ground gave a weak, pitiful pulse of light.
They both looked at it. It was trying to reform, to gather its scattered energy, but it was too weak. It just lay there, looking pathetic.
Enid scrambled off Wednesday, her cheeks flushed. She knelt by the creature. "Aww, look. We broke it."
Wednesday stood, brushing mud from her black skirt. She retrieved a small glass jar from her pack and carefully scooped the trembling, translucent creature into it. It was about the size of a tennis ball now, its two eyes blinking sadly up at them. "The effects of the EMP are temporary. It will recover."
"So what do we do with it?"
"We relocate it. Away from the mine, away from the hiking trails." Wednesday looked around. "There's a small marsh about three miles east. The ambient humidity and decaying plant matter should provide it with enough static charge to sustain it."
Enid grinned. "You're a regular cryptid social worker."
"I am a pragmatist."
An hour later, they sat on a fallen log at the edge of the marsh. The wisp-beast, now fully recovered and pulsing with a soft, contented turquoise light, was happily zipping around the reeds, chasing fireflies. It seemed to have found its happy place.
The fog had cleared slightly, revealing a sliver of the night sky and a scatter of cold, distant stars. The air was crisp and clean, smelling of wet earth and pine.
Enid, her tactical vest now smeared with mud, was in her element. She pulled out a thermos. "Hot chocolate! I brought it for exactly this kind of post-climax moment." She poured two steaming cups and then produced a bag of jumbo marshmallows, dropping several into each.
Wednesday accepted the cup. The warmth seeped into her cold fingers. She watched as Enid rummaged in another pouch and pulled out a small, foil-wrapped chocolate bar. She held it out to Wednesday.
"Here. I know you're not a sugar person, so I snagged this from the cafeteria. It's, like, 90% cocoa. Basically burnt dirt, which I figured you'd appreciate."
Wednesday took it, unwrapped it, and broke off a small square. It was indeed bitter and dark. Perfect. She ate it in silence, letting the complex, unsweetened flavor coat her tongue.
Enid munched on a marshmallow, sipping her hot chocolate, her legs swinging like a child's. She looked over at Wednesday, who was staring at the stars, her profile sharp and beautiful against the dark sky.
"See?" Enid said softly, a genuine smile touching her lips. "Date material."
Wednesday was quiet for a long time. The wisp-beast zipped by, leaving a trail of soft light. An owl hooted in the distance. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, directed at the stars.
"If this is courtship," she began, each word chosen with meticulous care, "it's... not entirely objectionable."
It was, for Wednesday Addams, a sweeping, passionate declaration. It was the equivalent of a skywriter spelling out "I LOVE YOU" in hearts. It meant: I don't hate this. I don't hate being with you. I don't hate you.
Enid's smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She simply leaned over and rested her head on Wednesday's shoulder.
Wednesday went rigid for a fraction of a second. It was a physical shock, that warmth, that weight, that trust. Her instinct was to flinch away, to erect the walls. But she didn't. She forced herself to remain still, to feel it. The warmth of Enid's head seeped through the fabric of her shoulder. It was... grounding.
She took another sip of the sweet, milky hot chocolate. It was objectively terrible. Too sweet, too rich, too... warm. But sitting here, in the cold, with Enid's head on her shoulder, watching a rehabilitated cryptid frolic in a swamp, it tasted almost... good.
Thing, who had climbed onto a branch above them, used his pinky and thumb to delicately wipe a non-existent tear from his non-existent "eye." He had captured this moment, too. For blackmail purposes, of course. But mostly because it was the most adorable thing he had ever witnessed in his long, finger-filled life.
The woods were quiet, save for the soft rustle of the reeds and the gentle, steady rhythm of Enid's breathing as she relaxed against Wednesday.
They sat like that, two impossible figures in a gothic landscape: a werewolf in a rainbow hoodie and a goth with a heart of darkness that was, just for this moment, beating a little less darkly.
It was, against all odds and in defiance of every rule of logic and personal preference Wednesday Addams held dear, a perfect end to a monster-hunting date.