Chapter Text
Wednesday Addams despised unanswered questions.
They lingered. They scratched at the inside of her skull until every possible explanation had been considered and discarded. Most people eventually accepted uncertainty, Wednesday dissected it.
For almost a month now, she had done exactly that.
Enid Sinclair had left willingly, no one disputed that. Wednesday had watched her leave.
But the infuriating part is that she didn't leave Wednesday anything helpful to find her. Nothing. Enid had been gone for exactly a week and no progress had been made, unacceptable.
Thing dropped onto her desk with all the grace of a falling spider.
He tapped twice against the wood.
Wednesday looked up from the map spread across her dorm room.
"You've searched every post office between Jericho and Portland."
Thing nodded.
"No letters."
A slow nod.
Wednesday leaned back in her chair.
Enid was incapable of silence. She talked through movies. She talked in her sleep. She apologized to furniture after bumping into it. Silence was unnatural.
Which meant something had interrupted it.
----------------
The sheriff's office smelled exactly as depressing as Wednesday remembered.
Sheriff Santiago looked older.
Not dramatically.
Just... tired.
She looked up from a stack of paperwork as Wednesday entered.
"I was wondering when you'd show up."
"I doubt that."
"What do you want?"
"Your cooperation."
She laughed once.
Wednesday placed a photograph of Enid on his desk. "I've come regarding Enid Sinclair."
Her expression softened for the briefest moment.
"I've already looked into it."
"You've concluded she left voluntarily."
"Because she did."
"Partially.”
She sighed.
"Wednesday—"
“She would not have wanted to leave voluntarily. You would know that if your office put any effort into this”
Santiago rubbed her forehead.
"Listen." She leaned back in her chair with an exhausted huff, "I understand you're worried."
"You do not."
"I have a lot to do, thanks to your last escapade, Miss Addams."
Wednesday's gaze sharpened, “You don’t seem to be doing too much about the real problems, as always.”
“And you’re here to tell me what we should be focusing on?” Santiago said in an almost bored tone, “We have pressing matters to attend to, as I’ve said. We’re done.”
"What about Tyler.” Wednesday immediately regretted saying his name, it always left a strange pit in her skull. Like a dull pain.
Her jaw tightened immediately.
"We're not talking about the Hyde. This doesn’t even relate to your situation."
"He escaped custody."
"I know."
"He remains at large."
"I said we're done."
Wednesday stood.
"So am I."
She turned toward the door.
"Wednesday."
She stopped.
"If you find him..." Her head tilted slightly as if in pity, "...don't try to be a hero."
She didn't answer.
Heroes had dreadful survival rates.
------------------
"I can get the bees looking." Eugene almost instantly stepped in to offer his help.
"No."
"They can cover miles."
"I said no."
"You don't have to do this alone."
Wednesday met his eyes.
"I do."
Because if this became dangerous—
—and every instinct she possessed insisted it already had—
she refused to drag anyone else she cared about into it.
By the end of the second week, Wednesday had filled two notebooks.
Possible sightings.
Bus routes.
Train schedules.
National park maps.
Wolf territory.
Witness statements.
She stood in her dorm room, staring at a fresh page.
What did she actually need?
Subtle transportation.
Someone capable of avoiding police.
Someone who knew back roads instead of highways.
Someone who could disappear.
She wrote the requirements down one by one.
Then stopped.
Every line pointed toward the same name.
Tyler Galpin.
Wednesday closed the notebook.
Immediately reopened it.
Crossed his name out.
Closed it again.
Three hours later, she'd written it back in.
Finding Tyler proved considerably more irritating than deciding to.
He wasn't in Jericho. At least, not openly. Rumors placed him everywhere. Pennsylvania. Vermont. Canada. Dead. Captured. Living under a different name.
Wednesday ignored rumors.
Rumors were the hobbies of people who disliked evidence.
Instead, she looked at facts.
She pinned them to a map.
Most were nonsense. A handful weren't. One witness claimed Tyler had stolen supplies from an abandoned service station. Another insisted he'd paid cash at a hardware store before disappearing into the mountains. Neither report had reached the police until days later.
Too late to matter. Not too late for Wednesday.
She spent the next several days following the trail.
Abandoned campsites, old logging roads, tiny towns where strangers were remembered.
Twice she arrived hours too late.
Once she found fresh tire tracks leading into dense forest before disappearing onto gravel.
Closer.
It was nearly sunset when she finally saw the truck, old, blue, one headlight slightly dimmer than the other. Parked behind a long-abandoned hunting cabin tucked deep in the woods.
She didn't approach.
Instead, she climbed the rocky hill overlooking the clearing and waited.
Nearly two hours passed before Tyler emerged from the trees carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder.
He'd changed.
His hair was longer.
He had too many pink scars scattered across his face.
There was a healing cut across one cheek and enough exhaustion beneath his eyes to suggest he'd forgotten what uninterrupted sleep felt like.
He unlocked the truck.
Paused.
Without looking up, he spoke.
"You've been standing on that hill for a while, haven't you?"
Wednesday remained perfectly still.
"You breathe quieter than most people, but you step on dead pine needles exactly the same." He finally looked up. His expression wasn't angry, mostly resigned.
"I was wondering when you'd find me." He said with what could almost be described as a smile, albeit one that looked like he had forgotten how to do so. Nothing like the smiling, smalltown barista.
Wednesday descended the hill.
"You've become more observant."
"It’s kind of a hyde thing.”
Silence settled between them.
Neither seemed interested in breaking it.
Finally, Wednesday spoke.
"I require your assistance."
Tyler blinked. "...Excuse me?"
"Enid is missing."
"And you came to me... why?"
"Because you are currently one of the most wanted individuals on the eastern seaboard."
"...Not exactly flattering."
"You possess transportation, mechanical aptitude, extensive knowledge of secondary road systems, and considerable experience avoiding law enforcement."
Tyler stared at her.
"You came to find me because you.. want my help?”
"I found you because you're useful."
He looked down at the pine needle covered ground, then back at her.
"If we travel together, they'll assume you helped me escape."
"Technically I did.”
"You'll become a fugitive."
"Not my first time."
"And?"
Wednesday's expression never changed.
"You overestimate how persuasive you are."
Despite himself, Tyler laughed.
A short, tired laugh.
"You really haven't changed."
"No."
She'd already exhausted every lead she could reach alone. She simply couldn't search the rest of the country alone, without someone that knew how to hide because of their abilities.
"When do we leave?"
Wednesday didn't smile but she almost looked relieved.
"Tomorrow."
He nodded once.
"I know a place outside Jericho."
Wednesday turned to leave.
Behind her, Tyler called out.
"You know..."
She paused.
"...you could've asked anytime."
Without turning around, she replied,
"I did."
The next afternoon, they met in an empty parking lot just outside Jericho.
Tyler leaned against his battered pickup truck.