Chapter Text
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
The Addams house was never quiet, but that morning, it felt especially alive.
"Pugsley, if you're going to scream, at least do it in a minor key. Your pitch is offensive."
"I'm not screaming!" Pugsley snapped, yanking his arm away as Wednesday tightened the strap around his wrist.
"You were," she said calmly, inspecting her work. "And now you're not. See? Progress."
He glared at her. "You tied it too tight on purpose."
Wednesday tilted her head, considering him like a mildly interesting specimen. "Pain builds character. You're in desperate need of it."
Pugsley rolled his eyes and tugged at the strap again, failing to loosen it. "I don't even get why I have to go to Nevermore. You already go there. That's punishment enough."
From across the room, Morticia glided in, her dark dress whispering against the floor. "Darling, Nevermore is a gift. A place where you can truly be yourself."
Pugsley muttered, "I was already doing that."
"Yes," Gomez added cheerfully, appearing behind Morticia and placing a proud hand on Pugsley's shoulder. "But now you can do it academically."
"That's worse."
Wednesday stepped back, arms crossed. "Don't worry, Pugsley. I'm sure you'll find your people. Perhaps a group of equally disappointing individuals."
"Oh, like your friends?" he shot back.
"They're not my friends," she replied flatly.
"That girl with the colors—"
"She tolerates me."
"And the tall one—"
"Also tolerates me."
Pugsley smirked. "Sounds like friendship."
Wednesday's eyes narrowed slightly. "Careful, brother. You're starting to sound optimistic. It's unsettling."
Before he could respond, Lurch appeared in the doorway with a low groan, holding Pugsley's suitcase like it weighed nothing.
"Ah!" Gomez clapped his hands. "The chariot awaits!"
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
The car ride was... tense.
Pugsley sat pressed against the window, watching the gloomy scenery pass by. Wednesday sat beside him, perfectly still, like a statue carved out of boredom and judgment.
"You're not even nervous?" he asked after a while.
"No."
"It's your first day too."
"It's my return," she corrected. "There's a difference."
"Yeah," he muttered. "You actually want to be there."
Wednesday didn't respond immediately. Then: "Want is a strong word. I find it... tolerable."
"That's basically love, coming from you."
She turned her head slowly to look at him. "If I loved something, you'd know. There would be consequences."
Pugsley snorted. "Right."
A beat of silence passed.
Then he sighed. "What if my roommate's a total freak?"
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a negative."
"I mean, like annoying freak. Loud. Weird in a bad way."
"Most people are."
"Thanks, that helps."
"You're welcome."
He hesitated. "What if they hate me?"
Wednesday's lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite. "Then you'll have something in common."
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Nevermore Academy loomed ahead, all gothic towers and creeping ivy, like something pulled straight out of a nightmare, and polished for presentation.
Pugsley swallowed as they stepped out of the car.
"Too late to turn around?" he asked.
"Tragically," Wednesday replied.
Inside, the halls buzzed with students, some whispering, some staring, all just strange enough to make Pugsley feel slightly less out of place.
Slightly.
"Your dorm is this way," Wednesday said, already walking ahead.
"Wait- aren't you coming with me?"
She didn't slow down. "I have better things to do."
"Like what?!"
"Anything."
Pugsley groaned and dragged his suitcase after her anyway.
They stopped in front of a door.
Wednesday knocked once, sharply, then stepped aside.
"Good luck," she said.
"That's it? No advice?"
"Yes," she said, already turning to leave. "Lower your expectations."
The door creaked open.
Standing there was a boy about Pugsley's age, with messy dark hair and an expression that immediately twisted into annoyance.
"Oh great," the boy said. "You're the new roommate?"
Pugsley frowned. "Yeah. And you are?"
"Eugene."
There was a pause.
They looked at each other.
Something in the air shifted, not dramatic, not explosive, but immediate and unmistakable.
Dislike.
"Oh," Eugene added, leaning against the doorframe. "You're one of those."
Pugsley blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Eugene said, eyes narrowing slightly, "you look like trouble."
Pugsley scoffed. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Eugene shrugged. "Depends. I don't like people messing with my stuff."
"I don't like people assuming things about me."
"Good," Eugene shot back. "We're already off to a terrible start."
Pugsley smirked despite himself. "Yeah. Guess we are."
Eugene stepped aside reluctantly. "Well? Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there making it worse?"
Pugsley grabbed his suitcase and walked past him, shoulder bumping slightly on purpose.
"Trust me," he muttered. "It can get worse."
Behind him, Eugene shut the door.
"Oh, I'm counting on it."