Work Text:
Wednesday prided herself on her detective skills, and as such knew that when all of the evidence was pointing at the same conclusion, then there was a high probability of said conclusion being the correct one.
The conclusion she had reached? What all of her research and evidence was pointing to?
She was a coward.
At least as far as her current predicament was concerned.
A few months into their second semester together, Wednesday had begrudgingly come to accept that she had finally begun to experience one of the worst parts of being a teenager.
She had developed feelings of a romantic nature for someone. A “crush”, as Thing had so aggravatingly pointed out to her.
On Enid, no less.
After spending a solid two days ruminating on her damn, hormonally influenced brain— and occasionally wondering whether or not she should remove the potentially malfunctioning organ; a fluorescently colored puppy on two legs? Really? —the ravenette eventually came to the conclusion that of all the candidates for her to crush on, Enid was by and large the most tolerable.
Barclay was second, but the pair of them would probably tear eachother apart physically and mentally before too long. An entertaining notion— to be sure —but still a poor substitute for the blonde wolf.
And why shouldn’t she have some mild feelings of affection for Enid? The girl was strong, clever, loyal, and almost too kind for this world. And she was brave. The kind of brave that whimpered at the mere thought of entering an abandoned house but would do it anyway. The kind that would run into a forest at night because her friend was in danger and she was going to throw herself at said danger without even knowing if she could help at all.
The kind of brave that saw a dark-eyed shadowy psychopath wrapped in thorns, and decided against all odds and better judgment to try and befriend her anyway.
So yes, Wednesday had developed feelings for one Enid Sinclair.
Feelings that— ever since she first acknowledged them —have grown from being a simple “crush” to something that feels terrifyingly close to “love”.
Which inevitably led to her current conclusion about herself. Namely, that she was a coward.
Because they were now at the end of the semester— packing up to return to their respective homes for the summer, to be specific —and Wednesday had still failed to properly convey her feelings to the blonde despite being self aware of them for literal months now.
And she had been trying to confess! Plan after plan for confessing had fallen through or been aborted at the last minute, and the psychic had to face the facts that her shortcomings were most likely self-sabotaging in nature.
She was scared.
Of being rejected, or— even worse —losing Enid completely.
Wednesday sighed as she closed her trunk and stood up in the now stripped bare room. It was an irrational fear, she knew that. Even if Enid did reject her advances, the blonde wasn’t the kind of person to completely cut off ties with people for something like that. The wolf was still friends with Barclay even after she found out that the siren had poisoned Yoko last semester just before the Poe Cup.
She would still be friends with the goth; Wednesday knew that as surely as she knew where every knife on her person was hidden.
That didn’t make the fear any less sharp.
“Annnnnnd – grr – done!” Enid’s bright voice chirped from behind her. Turning to face her, Wednesday found the blonde on her bed, sitting atop a suitcase and grinning triumphantly. Judging by how concerningly bulgy the suitcase looked, the goth guessed it had required a fair bit of the wolf’s strength in order to be zipped shut.
“All finished?” Wednesday inquired casually, even as her heart ached. They were due to leave tomorrow and both had agreed it would be less stressful to pack the majority of their belongings the night before so that they— or rather, so that Enid —wouldn’t rush about the next day trying to track everything down. With the blonde’s task completed, they were now that much closer to the inevitable good-bye. It would be months until they could once again see each other in person.
And Wednesday still couldn’t bring herself to say anything!
“I am–” Enid grinned, breaking the goth out of her spiraling train of thought, “–and I got the appetite to prove it! Wanna head to Jericho for one last snack from the Weathervane?” she asked, already moving to put her own shoes on.
“Yes. But before that I...” Wednesday took a step closer to the wolf, whose head tilted at her curiously, a soft smile still on her beautifully scarred face.
Say it. Just say it.
“Enid, I–”
–wish for this to be a date.
–want to call you mine.
“–I–”
–wish to shower you with all the love you deserve even if I don’t feel worthy of it!
Say something! Anything!
“...Wends?”
“...I-I feel like this achievement is worthy of a hug. Would you like one?”
Coward.
The itch of failure was somewhat soothed by Enid’s smile gaining a mischievous but nonetheless warm tinge to it.
“Ah, Wends; I knew you were secretly a hugger!”
“Only when it concerns you,” Wednesday argued; hating how she could only admit that much. “Now do you want the hug or not?”
“Yes please!” Enid said in a rush before Wednesday could threaten to change her mind. She skipped over to the psychic, who dutifully held her arms open while she stood waiting.
This was not the first time they had hugged. Or even the tenth. After the Crackstone debacle, Wednesday had allowed the blonde to encroach on her personal space more and more. The physical contact seemed to soothe some irrational part of the wolf that still worried she was in danger. Eventually Wednesday admitted that the effects worked both ways and would at times initiate contact herself.
So it was rather surprising to the ravenette when the warm and downright cozy feeling she had come to expect from having Enid’s arms wrapped securely around her quickly turned into the spine-straightening shock of a vision.
Wonderful. Just what I needed, she groused internally as she took a moment to compose herself. With a vexed huff Wednesday opened her eyes; bracing herself for whatever horrid tragedy was waiting to unfold before her. Perhaps it would help improve her mood.
She curiously eyed the hallway she found herself in and her brow furrowed as she took everything in from the hardwood floorboards to the knickknack covered walls and cobwebbed bespectacled ceiling. There were differences, to be sure, but Wednesday knew exactly where she was. This was the hallway that led from the foyer towards the kitchen.
This was her home.
Some force bade her to turn around in time to see a woman round the bottom end of the grand staircase and begin walking towards where she stood.
At first glance she thought she was gazing upon a younger version of her mother, perhaps during a time not long after she had married her father.
But the longer she looked, the more she realized how wrong that was.
For one thing, this woman was far shorter than her mother should have been at the age she appeared. And she had never seen her mother wearing her hair in a single braid pulled over one shoulder. Or wearing a black button up paired with a sharp pair of slacks. And she most certainly would not have had a cell phone—
Me, Wednesday thought as her lungs stuttered against her ribcage. This is me.
“–I will not be rewriting my report, I do not care how much Detective Bullock complains; the cause of death was clearly explained in my first submission,” the future version of Wednesday groused, clearly annoyed with whoever was on the other end of the line. Partway down the hallway she paused and her eyes darted upwards for a moment before she carried on, casually shifting so that her phone was now held against her ear by her shoulder alone.
“Tell Bullock he would do well to expand his vocabulary a bit; I’m sure I could track down a preschool book he could borrow.”
Wednesday could almost make out a male voice replying exasperatedly on the phone, but it was drowned out by a high pitch screech coming from above. She jolted out of the way— expecting to see some sort of vicious assailant, or perhaps some kind of vile beast —and was floored to bear witness to a combination of the two.
Falling through the air from their hiding spot atop a cabinet, was a blur of blonde and glinting metal, which Older Wednesday caught with both hands, guiding the momentum of the creature downward in a spin before swinging upwards and lightly tossing it back up into the air; neatly catching it again as it returned to her hands in a fit of—
Giggles?!
The young ravenette was stunned to realize that her older self was holding a small child .
A girl, surely no older than three, dressed in soft black and blue clothes, with a mess of blonde hair, dark eyes, and a wide toothy grin that was reflected in the small paring knife she clutched in one tiny fist.
“Nothing, Commissioner,” the woman replied, raising an eyebrow at the still giggling toddler in her grasp, “–Just someone trying to kill me. I will speak with you more tomorrow. Good-bye.” Propping the child on her hip for a moment, she ended the call in the middle of the “Commissioner’s” angry sounding retort. Slipping it into her back pocket she held the girl at arm’s length once more.
“And what exactly are you up to?” she asked in a deadpan that belied the spark of amusement her younger self saw dance through her eyes.
“‘Sassin’!” the girl giggled, kicking her legs happily.
“Sassing?” the corner of her lips quirked up the tiniest bit, “I didn’t realize that required a knife now; you seemed to manage it just fine using your words.”
“No, not sassing–” the girl shook her head, waving her little knife emphatically, “‘Sassin’!”
“Oh. Assassin,” Wednesday nodded in understanding, “Though that is what you would be called; the action itself would be ‘assassinate’, or ‘assassination’.”
“...Sassation?” the girl tried, tilting her head like a small confused puppy.
“...You could also call it an ‘ambush’,” the woman offered.
“Am-bush?”
“Very good, pequeña” Wednesday smiled, drawing the girl back to her hip and pressing a kiss to her head. “Though next time maybe try to save your scream of joy until after you make contact.”
“M’kay!”
Young Wednesday’s jaw dropped. What?
“Now, where is your mama?”
Mama– What?!
“Ki’chen!” the girl proudly proclaimed, pointing the way with her blade, “Lunch!”
“Is it lunchtime? I hadn’t noticed,” the woman drolled as she carried the child the rest of the way down the hall. The pair had nearly turned the corner out of sight before present Wednesday shook herself out of her stupor and quickly followed after them. She sped around the corner, only to brake suddenly when confronted with her older self’s back as she and the toddler looked into the kitchen.
Leaning around her, it didn’t take Wednesday long to figure out what she was gazing at.
There was another woman standing in the kitchen, bustling about and setting some dishes on the kitchen table. Taller than both Wednesdays, decked out in blue jeans, a pink top and a splatter painted apron, with long blonde hair in a half updo. She was facing away from her silent audience, but the ravenette knew who she was before she turned around and showed off scars that had gone silver with age.
Enid.
“Hey you two~” the blonde positively beamed when she finally caught sight of them.
“The top of the cabinet? Really?” Future Wednesday stated more than asked; present Wednesday couldn’t see her face but she could hear the small smile in her own voice.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Enid grinned, plucking the child from the ravenette’s hip, making the girl giggle as she rubbed their noses together. “Did you try to get Mommy~? Did you~?”
“Ambush!” the girl giggled, limbs outstretched like a starfish.
“It was admittedly an admirable attempt,” the ravenette remarked, crossing her arms, “But the execution could use some work.”
“Oh hush,” Enid admonished, propping the girl on her own hip and finally relieving her of the knife. “Just admit that you were impressed that our little hellspawn got the drop on you.”
Our hellspawn? Wednesday blinked, finding herself having to lean against the wall to stay upright. She’s– Our–
“No blood, no points,” her doppelganger quipped as she passed the blonde pair— pecking a quick kiss on Enid’s cheek on her way by —and began pulling glasses out of the cupboard.
“Was that Gordon I heard on the phone?” Older Enid asked as she placed the wiggling girl into a high chair.
“Yes,” Wednesday answered as she set the glasses on the table and started to fill them from a jug. “Evidently I was using words of ‘too high of a caliber’ for Bullock again; although how the man has gone twenty years of service and never encountered the word ‘decapitation’ before is beyond me.” She moved to the little girl and crouched down so they were eye-level with each other. “Do you know what decapitation means?”
“Head gone!” the toddler crowed.
“Perfecta; it means the head is detached from the body,” she tapped the girl’s nose, making her giggle. “Honestly, if a three year old knows that, then Bullock has no excuse.”
“Sweetie, I’m pretty sure only our three year old knows what that word means,” Enid smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of said girl’s head as she took her own seat.
“Hm. Fair point. Our daughter’s intelligence is well beyond that of her peers.”
“And you are so humble about it.”
“I am, in fact,” Wednesday argued. “If I was not then I would be parading her around the town screaming at the top of my lungs like a fool. Or worse; make some social media account devoted solely to pictures of her and her exploits.”
“That would sound a lot more convincing if I didn’t know you take just as many photos of her as I do.”
“Taking them is not the same as sharing them for all of the internet to see.”
“Private settings exist for a reason, dear.”
The pair of them gently teased each other back and forth, the girl’s head twisting back and forth between them like she was witnessing a tennis match. Meanwhile, current Wednesday continued to lean against the wall and try to comprehend all that she was seeing.
This was the future.
This was her future.
One that she shared with Enid.
She had to tell her; clearly it would go well! Her visions hadn’t lied to her yet.
She could have this.
Right?
Wednesday came back into her body with a gasp, only half surprised to find herself still locked in an embrace with the blonde wolf. It wouldn’t be the first time Enid had kept her upright whilst in the midst of a vision.
“Holy fucking shit,” Enid whispered by her ear, surprising the goth by taking several deep gulps of air as well. Had her sudden vision startled the girl so much?
“Enid? Are you alright?” With no small amount of effort, Wednesday managed to push her friend far enough away that she could get a good look at her face. Enid’s jaw was slacked open a crack, and her eyes were a thousand miles away.
“Enid?” She shook her shoulders gently and was rewarded by the wolf blinking back into the room. Her wide blue eyes met dark brown and— after a moment that Wednesday’s concern managed to stretch into an eternity —her mouth finally began to move.
“...Your eyes...” Enid said, in a voice that was barely louder than a murmur.
“What? What about them?” Wednesday asked, feeling as her brow furrowed in confusion.
“...She had your eyes.”
“She? Who–” Wednesday was grateful that Enid still had her hands on her sides, or else her response would have floored the goth in both a metaphorical and literal sense.
The little girl.
The little girl with blonde hair had dark eyes.
The little girl from her vision had—
“You– You saw my vision? How?!”
“I-I don’t know!” Enid stated loudly, looking on the verge of a panic attack, “One second I was hugging you and the next I was in some dark colored hallway–”
“That was my home...” Wednesday explained reflexively before she shook her head to focus, “Wait– Where were you? I did not see you.” Not the current version of you, atleast, she thought, mind flashing for a moment to the Enid of the future.
“I...I’m not sure,” the blonde released the ravenette— to her quiet displeasure —and dragged her hands through her hair. “I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak– I...” Enid grimaced as she met Wednesday’s eyes again, “I think...I could only see what you saw? Like, I was stuck in your head?”
That sounds odd, but in a way it makes sense, Wednesday mused before she was struck by a new thought. Not only had she somehow dragged Enid into her vision, but the specific vision Enid had seen—
Was of a future where they were together.
“So you–” Wednesday paused to clear her throat; aggravated to find she felt somewhat embarrassed at the thought of the blonde seeing all of that, “–You saw ...what I saw? With the girl and the kitchen an-and–”
“–And me? Yeah. Yup. Uh huh. Saw all of that,” Enid spewed in a rush; head nodding so quickly the psychic was worried she’d give herself whiplash. “Ar-Are all of your visions like that?”
“No. No, not really. Usually there is a lot more screaming. And blood.”
“Right. Right. Yeah uh, that– that makes sense. Yeah.” The wolf started fidgeting and looking everywhere but at Wednesday.
“...Right... Um. So...what, what did you thi–”
“–Are you hungry? I’m hungry! How about we go to town like we said we would!” the wolf spat out before spinning on her heels and marching straight for the door.
“–nk about– Wha– Wait– Enid?!” Wednesday rushed after her friend— who had already left the room and was proceeding to walk downstairs —barely remembering to close their door behind her.
“What are you in the mood for?” Enid asked far too casually as she rapidly descended down the staircase, the psychic struggling to keep up, “I’m feeling like muffins–ooh! Or maybe a cupcake? Although the last time I had one of Weathervane’s cupcakes— did I tell you about this?”
“Enid, hold on–”
“–It was a few weeks ago, I went with Yoko— I think you were off doing Hummers stuff with Eugene.”
“Enid–”
“–How is Eugene by the way? I haven’t seen him in a minute. We should invite him along if we see him.”
“Would you please just–”
“– Anyway, so Yoko and I were at the Weathervane and they had red velvet cupcakes, right? And you know how much I love red velvet–”
“ENID!” Wednesday finally yelled, throwing her entire body weight against Ophelia Hall’s front door as the wolf went to pull it open, slamming it shut with such a bang that Enid jumped slightly. To the goth’s bemusement, it seemed like the blonde’s words had been directly tied to her state of motion; once her feet came to a stop, so did her mouth. Momentum gone, she was left staring at the door, chest heaving slightly; though Wednesday couldn’t say if that was from all the talking, her quick pace down the stairs, or something else entirely.
The goth was thankful that their dorm seemed relatively empty at the moment; she didn’t want any more witnesses to this than necessary.
“Can you please stop for two seconds and tell me what is wrong?” And something had to be wrong; why else would Enid have run away the way she had?
The blonde bit her lip and slowly shook her head, refusing to meet the ravenette’s eye. Why wouldn’t she look at her?
Wednesday’s heart tripped over her ribs and into her throat as a thought occurred to her.
Enid started acting like this after the vision.
Enid was acting like this because of the vision.
She was deflecting, trying not to think about what she— what they —had seen.
What if she hadn’t liked it?
What if it wasn’t what she wanted for her future?
What if she blamed Wednesday for inadvertently showing her the future?
Wednesday felt sick; she had to fix this!
“I-I’m sorry,” she said, pushing every ounce of feeling she had into those two words. She had to make Enid understand she would never force her into something she didn’t want. Ever! “I did not mean to– I didn’t even know I could–” Why must her words fail her so much; why now of all times?!
“It was never my intention to make you upset, though clearly I have failed in that endeavor. Again.”
“I’m... I’m not upset,” Enid argued quietly, though her words were undermined by the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
“Do not lie in some attempt at sparing my feelings,” Wednesday spat out, “It is obvious my vision has-has disturbed you, and I am so, so–”
“It didn’t disturb me!” the wolf snapped, eyes finally meeting the goth’s with an intensity that she felt down to her very bones. “That little girl was adorable! And-and you were beautiful and I– I just–” she choked on a sob and buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.
“...Enid?” Wednesday said softly, hands raised to either side of the quaking wolf, but not touching her. Not yet.
“...I want it...” Enid whispered, so, so quietly, that if Wednesday hadn’t already been right in front of her she didn’t think she would have heard it.
“...What?” She misheard her. She had to. Enid couldn’t have possibly said—
“I want it, Wednesday,” the wolf confessed again, dropping her hands and revealing the tear marks that streaked down her face. “I– I want it so bad it hurts,” she whined, clutching at her chest as if that would alleviate the ache that had settled there ever since she’d come out of that vision.
For what felt like the umpteenth time that day— that hour —Wednesday felt absolutely floored.
“You-you want that? What we saw? Wi-With me?”
“I’m sorry!” Enid cried with a shudder.
“Wha– Why are you sorry?!”
“Be-Because I know it’s not what you want!”
“What?!” Wednesday’s mind flew into a panic. Where in the world had she’d gotten that notion?!
“You-you said you didn’t want to get married!” the wolf explained, hands waving erratically now. “Th-That you didn’t want kids! Or– Or–”
“–I do if it’s with you!” the goth yelled, snatching the blonde’s hand out of the air and bringing it down to her own chest. Whether it was her words or her solid but gentle grip on her hand, Enid froze; wide, red tinged eyes meeting Wednesday’s, gazing at her as if she’d never seen her before.
“Wha...What?”
“I want it too, Enid,” Wednesday explained, swallowing her heart back into place and stamping the fear still lingering in her mind back into submission. “What we saw– that day in the kitchen? It was more than I could have ever dreamed of. And– And I have been dreaming of it. For...quite some time now,” she confessed.
“You have?” Enid whispered; as if too loud of a noise would startle the moment they were sharing into running away, never to return.
“I have,” she nodded, determination flooding her veins with every second that past, “And if it’s what you want–”
“It is!” Enid asserted, adding her own hand to the ones already clasped tightly between them, “It really is!”
“–Then it’s yours,” Wednesday declared. “That day, all the days leading up to it, and every single day after that I can possibly give you; they are all yours, Enid.”
Enid snorted, face lit up by a grin that threatened to blind Wednesday with its brilliance; gods did she love this girl.
“Wednesday Addams,” she said, shaking her head softly, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d just proposed to me.”
“And?” Wednesday raised up a single eyebrow as she dragged Enid’s hand upwards, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “I have already promised to give you the rest of my days on this plane of existence; I see no reason not to give you my last name as well.”
Enid gurgled something that sounded like “Wednesday”— her face gone completely scarlet with the intensity of her blush —but the goth wasn’t sure; she was too busy wondering where in hell this confidence was when she had needed it months ago?!
“D-Date!” The blonde finally managed to say after several long moments of incoherence.
“Hm?”
“We should go on a date,” Enid declared, face still red but eyes sparkling with determination. “Atleast one before we start making...certain plans.”
“Ah. Fair point. Weathervane?” Wednesday asked, moving to the side so that they could finally open the door, one hand still holding on to Enid’s.
“Sounds perfect,” the blonde grinned, swinging their conjoined hands as they walked in sync down the front steps.
They were halfway across the quad when Enid said, “...Olivia.”
“Hm?”
“For our daughter,” Enid explained, smiling softly, “For a little girl, I... I’ve always liked the name Olivia. I’d call her ‘Liv’ for short.”
Wednesday rolled the name around in her head. Olivia Addams. Hm.
“...Only if her middle name can be ‘de la Muerte’,” she eventually stated, making the wolf laugh.
“No; I want her middle name to be whatever day she’s born on. Like you.”
Wednesday blinked. “Really?”
“Mhm! I’m hoping for a Tuesday.”
“Why?”
Enid shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know; I just like how it sounds. Olivia Tuesday Addams.”
“Hm. Olivia Tuesday Addams,” she tried it out and felt a smile start to spread across her own face. “You’re right; it does sounds perfect.”
“Thank you, I’m awar– You have dimples?!”
Wednesday let out a chuckle— flabbergasting the blonde even further —and for once in her life found herself excited for what the future could bring.