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Wednesday was an Addams, which was distinctly not-strictly-human.
It wasn’t the same as being not-human, like being a vampire, or a faceless, or a gorgon. And it was a different brand of almost-human than werewolves.
Her powers weren’t the same as other psychics, with visions in cryptic dreams or reading the clouds. Her powers weren’t the same as different psychics with telekinesis, or telepathy.
Her powers weren’t the same as other almost-humans, like magicians or sorcerers or anything of the sort.
She was an Addams. She was something unique.
An amalgamation of unconventional abilities, from poison immunity to low body temperature to being able to hold her breath indefinitely, Wednesday considered one of her abilities to be “not feeling emotion.”
It didn’t take long at Nevermore to learn that that wasn’t quite correct. And so she adjusted it to “not showing emotion,” but she was proven wrong again, and again, and again.
Because she may be not-strictly-human, but there were still human parts of her, as intrinsic as her beating heart, that she would never be able to remove.
And so instead, she settled for “not letting her emotions affect her until the job was done.” She could do that.
At least until the nightmares started.
It started quietly, like a creeping chill. Waking up breathless and sweaty, not being able to tell what was wrong, the scar on her stomach tingling.
Then it became waking up with tears rolling down her face, seeing Eugene’s bloody body on the ground, seeing Tyler’s face as he mocked her, seeing Rowan, Enid, Bianca, Xavier, Principal Weems, all dead.
And then the screaming started.
White hot pain pacing through her body as Crackstone smiled with blackened teeth and twisted the knife, Enid’s body in her arms, they’re dying, she’s dead and Wednesday is dying and she failed everyone and she wants her mom-
“Wednesday! Wake up!”
Wednesday shot out of bed, pressing herself against the corner of the room as she tried to orient herself. Her breathing was ragged, her body hurt so much, she could feel the knife, she could feel the knife-
Enid was standing by her bed, looking distraught. She was alive, thank the lords, she was alive, but worried, upset, scared-
Wednesday grabbed her stomach- just above the tender scar- with a choked sob, and slid down the wall.
“Wednesday?”
Enid’s voice was terrified, and she didn’t move.
Wednesday let out another sob, the tears finally rolling down her face.
“Oh my god, Wednesday…”
Enid was moving towards her, and Wednesday flinched back, hitting her head against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Enid murmured. “Can I… move closer? I’ll be slow.”
Wednesday didn’t respond, and so Enid started taking hesitant steps, one at a time, until she was sitting beside Wednesday against the wall.
Not quite touching, but there. Wednesday needed her there.
Not dead, not dead, not dead, not dead-
She let out a pained groan as she cried, and Enid slowly, slowly reached out, gathered Wednesday into her arms, and brought her into her lap.
Wednesday clung to her like a lifeline.
“It’s okay,” Enid said softly. “You can let go. You don’t have to be strong right now. I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt us with me around.”
And so Wednesday buried her face in Enid’s shoulder and wailed.
She let everything out. The fear, the pain, the guilt, the betrayal.
It was all her fault. If she had been a better friend, Eugene wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If she had been faster, smarter, stronger, Dr. Kinbott and Principal Weems would still be alive. If she hadn’t been so fucking weak-
Enid was rocking her back and forth, repeating “It wasn’t your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for,” over and over, like a mantra.
They sat like that for hours, until the sun started creeping up on the horizon, and the sky became a pale grey. Wednesday’s crying had tapered off at some point, and she had sagged in Enid’s arms, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go.
Wednesday listened to the steady sound of Enid’s heart as she rocked them back and forth, back and forth, humming different soothing tunes to stay awake.
Wednesday’s hand was cramped from clutching onto Enid’s shirt so tightly for so long.
“Enid,” Wednesday said, voice rasping. “I can’t let go.”
“We can stay like this for as long as you need, Wednesday,” came Enid’s unhelpful reply.
“No, Enid, I mean my hand is literally stuck like this.”
Enid looked down, and said “Oh,” softly.
One of her hand’s covered Wednesday’s, and she slowly massaged circles into it, urging the blood to start moving again. One by one, Wednesday’s fingers unlocked, until she was finally, finally able to let go.
And she launched herself out of Enid’s grip.
“Not a word to anyone,” Wednesday hissed, but it sounded more pathetic than menacing.
Enid looked so tired when she nodded and stood up. “It’s alright,” Enid said. “I won’t tell. You deserve to have someone safe.”
Those words echoed in Wednesday’s head all day.
The next night it was the same, with Enid shaking her to wake up, Wednesday catapulting herself from the bed in a panic, and Enid soothing her for as long as possible.
Over and over, night after night.
Wednesday waited for the knife to the back, for people to start whispering about her when she passed, but it never came. And when someone asked Enid why she was falling asleep in class, she just shrugged and said “Nightmares.” It stopped the questions pretty fast.
But even Enid had her limits.
Wednesday was brushing her hair, getting ready for bed, when Enid came up behind her at the mirror and tugged her to her horribly colorful bed. Wednesday tried to protest, but Enid was having none of it.
“Neither of us are getting any sleep, Wednesday. The teachers can only be lenient with me for so long, and you can’t keep surviving off of two hours of tossing and turning.” And then, softer, “It might help.”
So Wednesday relented, and climbed into bed with her.
The nightmares didn’t go away, but they became bearable. She would occasionally wake up screaming, but Enid’s arms would tighten around her, and she would soothe her back to sleep.
“It’ll be okay,” Enid said one night. “I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt us when we’re together.”