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Chapter Text

Wednesday did not hug people, unless it was a mere subterfuge to stab someone in the gut. Yes, close proximity was far easier to put someone ten feet under. So, when Enid barreled into her the way a rabid dog chasing a bone would, Wednesday was more than taken aback. She was outright appalled and ready to hiss at Enid for violating her boundaries in such a repugnant manner.

But when Wednesday kept Enid at an injured arm’s length and saw the blood and dirt caked onto her tear-stricken face, something inside of Wednesday shifted uncomfortably. Enid was hurt because she put her life on the line to save Wednesday. Enid wolfed out and fought the Hyde for her. Wednesday could have died tonight, but Enid saved her, and now it was her turn to be there for Enid.

Public displays of affection were the one thing worse than Wednesday’s severe allergy to color, and yet, she wrapped her arm around Enid and pulled her in before she changed her mind, feeling the little wolf hold on to her the way an anchor latched itself to the seabed. If any of their fellow students ever breathed a word of this, Wednesday would cut out their tongue and feed it to the wolves on the next full moon, even if said tongue belonged to one of them.

Enid was warm, similar to sitting in front of the fireplace and straying too close to the flames. Her nails clawed at Wednesday’s back with a desperate hunger, which was surprisingly not unpleasant. In fact, the slight scrape against her skin was a welcome gesture. Wednesday was vaguely aware of their fellow students watching them, so she closed her eyes to shut them out. All that mattered now was Enid.

Wednesday wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but when she opened her eyes, their peers were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had fallen into a coma, and this was nothing but a strange hallucination, conjured up by her subconscious.

“I-it hurts,” Enid whispered, whimpering. Wednesday knew right then it wasn’t a dream, for she would never dream of harming Enid. “Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Wednesday replied, familiar with the feeling of knocking on death’s doorstep. “I got you,” she told Enid, letting her lean on her shoulder.

The walk back to their dorm was slow, and with every step, Wednesday’s body ached. She felt the phantom of the knife twisting in her gut, despite Goody’s healing, and the way the arrow had lodged into her shoulder as she stepped in to save Xavier. If anyone was going to kill another student at Nevermore, it would be Wednesday, and only if she had a good reason to do so.

Enid limped, and Wednesday wished she had the strength to carry her, but she was no wolf. Making sure Enid was safe and looked after was the only thing keeping Wednesday from collapsing with her. She was indebted to Enid, and an Addams always paid their debts, one way or another.

A familiar sound of fingers pattering nearby caught up to them.

“Bath,” Wednesday mouthed at Thing.

Thing obliged, running along, disappearing into the fog.

When Wednesday and Enid reached their room, the space had filled up with steam and an overly sweet stench. The scent was so overwhelming that it almost drowned out the copper smell of blood. Almost, but not quite.

“W-Wednesday,” Enid gasped, eyes wide. “You’re bleeding.”

“Says you,” Wednesday replied, aware of her superficial arrow-induced wound, which was nothing compared to the gash on Enid’s neck and claw marks on her face. “The last thing you need to be doing right now is fret about me.”

“Of course I’m fretting! You’re my best friend, and you could’ve—” Enid’s words turned into a poorly muffled sob. “Wednesday, you almost…,” she whimpered, biting her lip.

“Hey,” Wednesday interrupted, taking Enid’s hands in hers, for Enid’s sake. “Enough of that,” Wednesday said, staring into Enid’s eyes, unsettled by the sight of her tears. “Please stop,” Wednesday pleaded when Enid’s sobs grew stronger.

“Enid,” Wednesday spoke through clenched teeth, feeling as powerless as she did the day her pet scorpion died. “Stop crying,” she demanded to no avail. “I’m alive,” she reminded Enid. “I’m alive,” Wednesday repeated, yanking Enid’s right hand closer and putting it against her chest.

The abrupt gesture put an excruciating strain on Wednesday’s need for personal space, but desperate times called for desperate measures. To her relief, the incessant tears stopped all at once. Finally, the torture that hurt more than being stabbed in the gut by a resurrected pilgrim had ceased.

“Wednesday, your heart…,” Enid whispered, staring at their joined hands. “Your heart is beating super-fast.”

“Satisfied?” Wednesday asked while she shoved Enid’s hand away, only to reach for it again the moment Enid lost her balance.

“There’s so much blood on you,” Enid said, trembling as she looked Wednesday up and down, and up again. “How are you still standing? How can you lose that much blood and not pass out?”

“My ancestor healed me,” Wednesday explained without delving into the details that would make someone as squeamish as Enid faint on the spot. “Now,” Wednesday pressed on, before being bombarded with a game of twenty questions. “Do you need a hand getting into the tub?”

Enid tripped over nothing but air.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wednesday noted, though she had figured as much.

“You want me to get naked… I-in front of you?” Enid asked, holding on to her coat with one hand while the other remained firmly in Wednesday’s.

Enid’s shame was misplaced and unwarranted, but Wednesday understood and respected the need for privacy. Her offer was never meant to violate Enid’s boundaries, as surprising as it was to find out she had one after all.

“I won’t look at you,” Wednesday promised, having no interest in voyeurism. She would rather go blind than observe people in an undressed state. “My eyes will be on yours, Enid. You have my word.”

Wednesday guided Enid toward their bathroom, keeping her eyes on Enid’s, as promised, not once breaking eye contact. Enid wriggled a little while she tried to take off her coat with one hand, gaze flitting toward Wednesday one second and moving away the next, over and over as though she worried Wednesday would look elsewhere.

“Somehow, you staring at me like that makes me feel even more naked,” Enid broke the comfortable silence Wednesday enjoyed for the minute it lasted. “It’s like you’re looking into my soul,” Enid added with a shudder.

“Fine, I’ll close my eyes,” Wednesday compromised before her patience ran out.

“Y-you…you’d do that?” Enid blinked, staggering a step that nearly sent both of them over the edge of the tub. “...For me?”

Wednesday didn’t understand the tone of surprise. “Why wouldn’t I?” she countered, tightening her hold on Enid’s hand so she wouldn’t stumble backwards into the water and hit her head on the marble.

“Wednesday, I’ve never even seen you blink!”

***

Whatever it was that Thing did to make their bathroom smell similar to cotton candy and hot chocolate made it hard for Wednesday to breathe without gagging. She was never a sweet tooth, preferring the balanced flavors of a quad over ice.

Wednesday heard the water sloshing around in the tub, the telltale sign of Enid finally getting in. Perhaps now, Enid could let go of Wednesday’s hands, unless doing so would cause Enid to slip underneath the surface. Wednesday could endure a few more minutes of being touched, she had survived worse things than a roommate.

“You can open your eyes now,” Enid said, and when Wednesday did, Enid was hidden under a thick layer of pink foam, save for her head.

“A bath bomb, really?” Wednesday hissed at Thing, jerking her hands free. “She is injured.”

Thing dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding the boot that Wednesday threw at him.

Wednesday wet a washcloth in the sink, ignoring the way her shoulder ached as she wrung it out. Xavier shouldn’t have brought a bow and an arrow to a sword fight, but at least he tried to help, and as far as friends went, Wednesday supposed he had the potential to be one of hers. The same went for Bianca, who proved surprisingly helpful when her distraction allowed Wednesday to stab Crackstone in the heart.    

“This might sting,” Wednesday warned, dabbing Enid’s cheeks with the precision of a surgeon, careful not to rub the dirt into her wounds.

Enid smiled tiredly, and just when Wednesday thought she was going to fall asleep in the tub, Enid grabbed Wednesday’s wrist. It was gentle, not tight, and then Enid started rubbing circles with the pad of her thumb on the inside of Wednesday’s wrist.

Wednesday’s hand stilled. “What are you doing?”

“Feeling your pulse,” Enid answered while the warmth of her skin grew nearly unbearable. “It calms me, but if it’s too much, I can totally stop.”

“You may continue,” Wednesday decided, choosing to hold her tongue.

The white washcloth turned red from the blood Wednesday wiped away, revealing the severity of Enid’s injuries. Even with her wolf healing, she would be marked for life, covered in battle scars she valiantly earned.

“I need to stitch you up,” Wednesday said, discarding the washcloth. “Thing, get my medical kit and something for Enid to bite.”

Wednesday would offer Enid her hand to hold, but she needed both to thread the needle, and Wednesday preferred not getting her hand crushed by a sudden burst of wolf strength. She liked keeping her hands intact to write and play cello, among other things.

To Enid’s credit, she didn’t wince when Wednesday cleaned her wounds with alcohol. But that was the easy part.

“Not my snood,” Enid groaned when Thing offered it to her to bite down on.

“Shh,” Wednesday hushed, stuffing the snood in Enid’s mouth, which was better for both of them. “Try not to move,” Wednesday instructed as she prepared her tools.

Wednesday applied the sutures as quickly and precisely as she could, painfully aware of every tear rolling down Enid’s cheeks in the process. Wednesday had to brush away most of them to stop Enid from getting her stitches wet.

“All done,” Wednesday announced, brushing a strand of hair out of Enid’s face. Wednesday wasn’t sure why she did that, but it was too late to take it back.

It had to be the exhaustion, wearing Wednesday down and making it impossible for her to think clearly.

“Thanks,” Enid sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Thanks, Thing,” she smiled when Thing handed her a tissue.

Wednesday held out her hands to help Enid out of the tub, looking only at Enid’s blue eyes. As soon as Enid managed to climb out and find her footing, Wednesday wrapped a towel around her.

“O-oh,” Enid whispered, glancing down. “This is your towel,” she commented, and it was, but Wednesday’s black towels made out of the finest Egyptian cotton were far more superior than those colored synthetic pieces of fabric Enid brought with her and ought to burn.

Wednesday put her hands loosely on Enid’s shoulders. “Do you feel steady enough to put on your pajamas by yourself?” Wednesday asked, needing to freshen up as well, and check whether she had to stitch up her shoulder or not.

Enid nodded and walked out of the bathroom. Her movements rivaled those of a snail, but she seemed strong enough to cross the small distance to her bed alone.

Wednesday filled the sink with cold water as soon as the door clicked shut. She gripped the marble edges and dunked her head under, opening her mouth to scream. Principal Weems was dead, and Enid nearly got herself killed protecting Wednesday. And what did Wednesday do? She left Enid alone in the woods.

When Wednesday finished freshening up and putting six stitches into her shoulder, she found Enid on her bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals, hugging her arms around her legs. It made Enid look smaller and younger, but not weak. Enid was many things, but weak was not one of them.

Wednesday grabbed the pillow and blanket from her bed, putting them down on the floor next to Enid’s bed to keep an eye on her, in case she ripped her stitches or wanted to talk.

Enid climbed out of bed and joined Wednesday on the floor, visibly grimacing in the process.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked, staring at Enid.

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, then I’m sleeping on the floor, too.”

Wednesday sat up. “You are not sleeping on the floor, Enid.”

Enid propped up her pillow. “Watch me,” she huffed, burying the back of her head into the pillow.

Stubborn little wolf, Wednesday thought as she got up. She resisted the urge to stomp her feet, considering it was something petulant children did, and Wednesday was not a child.

Wednesday extended a hand to Enid, pulled her upright, and guided her to the other side of their room. If Enid insisted on being in the same space, then Wednesday’s bed it was.

The beds at Nevermore weren’t meant for two, but Wednesday could prop herself up against the wall to circumvent that problem. Sore muscles were an acceptable price to pay after what Enid went through.

Enid stopped and stared. “Are you sure?” she asked, as if Wednesday holding up her blanket for Enid to crawl underneath wasn’t obvious enough.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, and I’m not letting you sleep on the floor. My bed will have to suffice.”

Enid sat down on the edge of Wednesday’s bed, giving her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. If she had to venture a guess, she would say Enid was happy.

Wednesday often found herself to be right, but oh, how she had wanted to be wrong when Enid moved closer and cuddled with her. So this was what it was like to die a slow, agonizing death.

Within seconds, Enid was softly snoring. Wednesday wasn’t sure what to do with her hands in the odd position she found herself in. If Enid wasn’t hurt, Wednesday would have shoved her out of her bed and threatened to cut off her arms.

Wednesday’s skin felt as though it was on fire, trapped in the wolf’s embrace.

“Soft pillow,” Enid mumbled in her sleep.

“I’m not a pillow, Enid,” Wednesday said as the space between them grew non-existent. “Enid,” she hissed at the sleepy little wolf, who didn’t stir.

Wednesday made a mental note to buy a bed made out of pure silver and decorate it with wolfsbane. Lots and lots of wolfsbane.

***

Wednesday was nearly finished packing the bags – Enid’s, not hers – when the door creaked open.

Finally, after thirteen minutes and forty-one seconds, Enid had returned. Not that Wednesday was counting. No, she merely kept track in case Enid stayed away too long and Wednesday needed to organize a search party. One more minute and nineteen seconds, and she would have started breaking down doors.

“I talked to Ajax,” Enid shared with a sigh, and for a brief moment, her lips curled into a pout similar to the face a kicked puppy would make. “We decided we’re better off as friends than boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Wednesday wasn’t keen on getting involved in other people’s disgustingly saccharine need for intimate relationships, but Enid was already wounded. Wednesday didn’t want her roommate to bleed emotionally, too. She found no satisfaction in seeing Enid hurt. Others, however, such as a particular stoner, deserved to suffer.

“Are you okay?” Wednesday asked, taking a step closer in case Enid needed a hug to compose herself.

“Mhmm,” Enid nodded, sucking her lips into her mouth before releasing them with a wet pop. “I guess almost getting my neck snapped on my first night wolfing out was a bit too much for him, and it was nice while it lasted, but we have nothing in common.”

Wednesday’s nostrils flared. “Tyler tried to snap your neck?” she seethed through gritted teeth, and while Wednesday had no fangs or claws to speak of, she would find a way to tear out Tyler’s throat as violently and excruciatingly painful as possible.

“It’s fine,” Enid brushed off, running her fingertips across the wound that said differently. “I won.”

“Fine?” Wednesday spat with the venom of a thousand scorpions, and when Enid flinched, she regretted raising her voice at her. “That is far from fine, Enid,” Wednesday said, keeping her volume down despite the rage roaring in her chest. “You could have died, and Ajax turns his back on you?”

That spineless coward was never good enough for Enid, and this was indisputable proof.

Wednesday felt her nails digging into the palms of her hands, threatening to draw blood if she didn’t stop clenching her fists, but she didn’t care. “I will find Ajax and I will staple his snakes to the wall one by one,” she hissed, wanting to connect her fists with his face. “I will scoop out his eyes with a spoon and force them down his throat. I will—”

The sight of Enid smiling at her with twinkles in her eyes resembling the stars at night made Wednesday stop in her tracks.

“Why are you smiling?” Wednesday asked, and she wasn’t easily unsettled, but that smile was entirely unsettling. She needed Enid to stop looking at her like that immediately, before she turned gravely ill from whatever disease this was.

“Okay, please don’t smother me in my sleep for saying this,” Enid said, holding up her hands, which was ironic considering she was the one doing the smothering last night. “But you’re cute when you’re angry.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened at the insult. “Say that again, and I will put spiders in your bed.”

Wednesday was neither cute nor angry. She was furious, and while her threats were hardly taken seriously by her roommate, she would maim Ajax in a heartbeat if Enid allowed her to.

Enid frowned as she looked at her bed. “Are those my bags?”

“What an astute observation, Enid,” Wednesday deadpanned, staring at the hideously colorful suitcases.

“You went through my things while I was gone?” Enid said. Crap, Wednesday should have asked. “And you didn’t break out in hives?” Enid gasped, smiling in that way again. “Why, it’s a miracle!”

“One more word out of you, and I’m tying you to the roof along with your things.”

“You don’t fool me, Wednesday,” Enid shook her head. “I know you like me too much to go through with your threats.”

What a preposterous thing to say. Wednesday did not like people. At best, she tolerated a few.

“Say your goodbyes,” Wednesday said as she approached her roommate, who was smart enough to swallow. Hard. Finally, a modicum of respect for her frightful appearance. “We leave in five minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” Enid nodded and turned toward the door. “Wait,” she paused, whipping her head around, wincing as she did. “What do you mean, we?”

“I’m taking you home to stay with me.”

Enid blinked. “You’re…kidnapping me?”

“It’s not kidnapping if you go willingly.”

Chapter Text

Enid stared at her bags, mildly impressed that Wednesday managed to close them because all of her stuff barely even fit when she got here, and Enid had bought a few extra things since with the weekly allowance her dad sent her. Even her bed was stripped while she was only gone for like ten minutes, and granted, Wednesday had an extra hand, but it was a lot to pack. Which meant she must have started the moment Enid left their room to talk to Ajax.

“OMG, you’re serious!” Enid realized, looking at her roommate, who had been really kind and caring last night. “You want me to go with you to New Jersey? Right now?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, and Enid needed to pinch herself to check she wasn’t dreaming. “Unless you do not wish to spend ten weeks with me,” Wednesday backtracked, smoothing out the creases of her skirt with her hands, or at least that was what Enid assumed she was doing because she didn’t spot any.

Ten weeks? Oh, wow, okay, Enid didn’t know Wednesday was inviting her to spend their entire extended summer break together. Enid honestly wasn’t sure what to think or how to feel about going to the Addams’ family home, and staying there when it was probably scarier than any haunted house she had ever been in. But on the other hand, Enid didn’t want to go home and deal with her family’s questions and pressure now that she had finally wolfed out.

Her mom and dad would be happy that she did, perhaps even proud of her for defeating a Hyde, but it still wouldn’t be enough to live up to their standards. Especially her mom’s, who always reminded Enid of how much she was fitting out even with outcasts, when she should be fitting in. Enid was too cheery, too colorful, too different, too much. She was the black sheep of the family, or better yet, the rainbow sheep, and she was tired of having to pretend to be someone else when all she wanted was to be herself.

“Enid?” Wednesday prompted.

“I can’t,” Enid said while she gathered her thoughts, and for a second, Wednesday’s stoic expression changed as she visibly swallowed and nodded. “I can’t leave in five minutes,” Enid clarified, sorry that she didn’t make that clear right away, but in her defense, she had a lot to process because so much had happened in one day.

Enid wasn’t even sure she wanted to say yes to going with Wednesday, but she was sure she didn’t want to say no. Wednesday could ask pretty much anything right now, and Enid would probably say yes, unless it was something like torturing Ajax for breaking up with Enid when it was really a mutual decision. Sometimes people grew apart, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends, and everyone knew first crushes didn’t last.

Wednesday’s mask slipped back on. “Ten minutes?” she asked, and while she didn’t smile, Enid could tell that Wednesday was smiling on the inside.

“Wednesday, we can’t leave in ten minutes! We didn’t even have breakfast yet, and I’m starving. I need, like, a whole stack of pancakes. And don’t you want to say bye to everyone, too?”

“You have one hour,” Wednesday relented like the secret softie Enid knew she was. “Meet me at the gate when you’re done,” Wednesday added, turning on her heel.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Enid said, grabbing Wednesday’s hand, pulling her back with one well-measured tug. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not,” Enid announced, smiling at her cute dark cloud of a roommate. “If you get to kidnap me, then it’s only fair that I get to kidnap you, too.”

“Enid,” Wednesday said, glancing down at the fingers Enid intertwined with Wednesday’s. “I will not tolerate handholding in public, or there will be consequences.”

“Sorry,” Enid grimaced, letting go of her best friend’s hand at once, whose slightly icy skin soothed Enid’s aching bones. “It won’t happen again. Cross my heart,” she promised, crossing her finger across her chest for good measure, “and hope to d—”

“Less talking, more walking,” Wednesday interrupted abruptly.

“O-kay,” Enid nodded. “Walking now.”

Enid thought that after their hug last night and Wednesday helping her get cleaned up, Wednesday had lowered her walls to let Enid in. They even cuddled, so she assumed she could be as affectionate with Wednesday as she was with her other friends. Apparently, Enid misjudged the situation because Wednesday was putting up a wall again, but that didn’t mean Enid was giving up on her.

Underneath Wednesday’s mask was someone sweet and soft and caring, who felt way more than she claimed. Enid hadn’t said anything last night because she didn’t want to make Wednesday uncomfortable, but Enid overheard Wednesday’s muffled screams coming from the bathroom, and Wednesday didn’t stop screaming for like three whole minutes. Enid knew her best friend was hurting last night, and she was sure Wednesday was still hurting right now.

***

The minute they went outside to get some air and food, Wednesday was approached by Bianca and Xavier, with the rest of the Nightshades not far behind, except for Ajax, who must have already left. It gave Enid the perfect opportunity to step away for a few minutes to call her mother, who had no idea that she wasn’t planning on coming home.

With a pit in her stomach, Enid looked through the contacts in her phone, finger hovering over her mother’s number. She could try her dad instead, but Enid knew he’d just give the phone to her mom because she always had the final say in everything. So, she bit the bullet and clicked call.

It only took two rings for Enid’s mother to pick up, which was much faster than usual.

“Hey, Mom, I’m calling to let you know I wolfed out last night,” Enid shared, starting with the part her mother would consider good news before bringing up what her mother would consider bad news.

“You did? Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Murray, come here, our little pup wolfed out on a blood moon.”

“Yes, it’s…great. I’m finally normal, like you wanted me to be,” Enid replied, swallowing while she gathered her courage. “So, um, Wednesday invited me to stay with her.” And I already said yes, so don’t make me take it back now, she wanted to add, but didn’t. “Is it okay if I go? It’s only for ten weeks, and I’ve been away from home way longer than that many times.”

Silence.

If her mom said no, Enid could consider running away, but she was underage, and she didn’t want Wednesday’s parents to get in trouble for housing her without her parents’ consent. In hindsight, Enid should have gotten her mom and dad’s permission before saying yes to Wednesday, but she wasn’t thinking straight.

“You can go, on one condition,” her mom said just when Enid thought she might have hung up on her.

OMG, her mom said yes! Enid was going to spend ten weeks with Wednesday, where they could bond some more and maybe even do each other’s nails. Enid preferred pink and blue nail polish, but she’d totally let Wednesday paint her nails black as a compromise.

“I’ll let Wednesday know I can go,” Enid lied, and she wasn’t a good liar, but it was easier to lie over the phone. “What’s the condition?” she asked, biting her lip, hoping it wasn’t something uncomfortable like having to spend the next full moon at home to prove that she could wolf out.

“I want to hear from you every week.”

“Of course,” Enid agreed, surprised by the simple request. “I’ll call and text,” she promised, barely containing a squeal when she realized that this was really happening.

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

When Enid hung up, she sensed someone behind her. She turned around, expecting it to be Wednesday, but it wasn’t.

“Oh,” Enid whispered, smile slipping. “It’s just you.”

“Happy to see you too,” Yoko said dryly.

Enid’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry!” she apologized hastily. “That was so rude of me, and I didn’t mean it like that! Of course I’m happy to see you!”

Yoko grinned, thankfully not seeming to take it to heart. “Who were you hoping for?” she questioned, tipping her tinted sunglasses down, staring at Enid in a way that didn’t even come close to Wednesday’s intense gaze.

“I thought you were Wednesday,” Enid admitted to her friend.

“Speaking of Wednesday, I’m surprised you made her go soft enough to hug you.”

Yoko had no idea just how soft Wednesday was, but Enid wasn’t about to tell her because it was private. Wednesday would hate it if people started gossiping about how she shared a bed with Enid, and she didn’t want that to happen either. What happened in their room was strictly between the two of them.

“Wednesday invited me to spend the summer at her place,” Enid revealed, because it would be hard to keep that part to herself if she was going to text Yoko every day and call her once or twice a week.

Yoko blinked before putting her sunglasses back on. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Enid gave her friend a playful push, relieved there were no bad reactions so far.

“Neat stitches, by the way,” Yoko commented. “Wednesday did a good job.”

“How did you know?”

“You weren’t in the infirmary,” Yoko answered, holding up one finger. “And they’re black,” she smiled, adding a second finger.

Enid didn’t realize her friend went looking for her in the infirmary, but it made sense why Yoko assumed she was there because the smell of Enid’s blood must have been extremely invasive to her vampire senses. She lost so much blood, it had to be at least two pints, but it was nothing compared to the blood Enid smelled on Wednesday last night. If Enid picked it up, then Yoko must have as well, along with every other werewolf and vampire.

Did someone go looking for Wednesday in the infirmary, too?

Enid gently touched the stitches on her cheek. “I think I’m going to have permanent scars once my wounds heal,” she sighed, grimacing a little at the thought of having a constant reminder of what happened.

“Nothing wrong with scars,” Yoko replied, which was true, but why did it have to be her face? They would be harder to hide there. “You’ll always be the second prettiest girl at Nevermore to me,” Yoko winked.

“Likewise,” Enid smiled at her friend, opening her arms for a hug.

“I’d be offended I’m not your number one,” Yoko said while she hugged Enid, “but after yesterday, I get it.”

“Don’t tell Wednesday I think she’s pretty,” Enid whispered in her friend’s ear. “She thinks compliments are insults, and I don’t want to wake up with a bunch of spiders in my bed.”

“Your secret is safe with me, E.”   

***

Enid joined Wednesday at the picnic table, smiling when she saw Wednesday wasn’t alone and hadn’t scared off the Nightshades. They were sitting on the other side of the table, but still, progress! Plus, it left plenty of space for Enid to sit with Wednesday.

Yoko walked over to Divina, leaned down, and kissed her. “Thanks for saving me a seat, babe,” Yoko hummed, moving to sit on her girlfriend’s lap.

“Anything for the shadow of my heart,” Divina replied while she wrapped her arms around Yoko’s waist.

Enid smiled, seeing two of her friends so happy together, like the song!

“There goes my appetite,” Wednesday grumbled, putting her cup of coffee down, which didn’t count as a meal.

“Hey, Enid,” Divina said while she smiled at Enid. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“A bit sore,” Enid answered, still recovering from her transformation and the aftermath that followed. “But I slept really well,” she added, wanting Wednesday to know she helped by letting her cuddle all night and letting Enid sleep until she woke up.

Enid wasn’t sure how long Wednesday had slept, just that she was already awake when Enid scrambled up in the few seconds it took her to remember why she was in Wednesday’s bed. During the many nights they slept in the same room, Enid hadn’t witnessed Wednesday sleeping even once because she was always still up when Enid went to sleep and awake by the time she woke up. If Enid didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Wednesday was a vampire.

“How about you, Wednesday?” Bianca asked. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from the nauseating view, I am fine,” Wednesday answered, glaring at Yoko and Divina.

“Sure,” Yoko grinned, revealing a glimpse of her fangs. “Give it a few months.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bianca sighed heavily. “I am not betting with you again,” she told Yoko. “Or you,” Bianca added, looking at Divina.

“Can’t blame us for having a radar that you don’t, Barclay,” Divina smirked.

Enid wanted to ask what they were talking about, but then her stomach started growling, reminding her of how hungry she was. She didn’t know how much time she had left from the one hour Wednesday had agreed to give her, so she should probably hurry up and eat. It was a long drive to New Jersey, after all. Seven hours in a car did sound better than six hours on a plane home to San Francisco with an overlay in Iowa, though.

“Here,” Wednesday said, sliding a tray full of food under Enid’s nose. “I ordered you a few things while you were busy,” Wednesday explained, which was one of the sweetest things anyone ever did for Enid.

There were cheese and ham sandwiches, and eggs both scrambled and boiled, and waffles with chocolate and syrup on the side, and croissants that made Enid’s mouth water, and a stack of fluffy pancakes, and bacon, and strawberries, and OMG, there was no way this was all just for her.

“You shouldn’t have,” Enid gasped, staring at the mountain of food, which easily cost as much as the allowance she got in a month. “Thank you, Wednesday. You are the best... Friend of mine,” she tried to recover, but it was hard to mask a compliment.

Maybe Enid should stop talking and start eating before blurting out something that would piss off Wednesday and make her revoke her invitation.

“You don’t have anything to drink,” Xavier commented, and he was right, but it was okay. Enid could get something to drink after breakfast. “Do you want my water?” Xavier offered, pointing at the unopened bottle of water next to his coffee.

Wednesday stood up. “I will be right back,” she announced, no doubt about to buy way too much.

“No, Wednesday, you don’t have to do that,” Enid said, resisting her instinct to reach for Wednesday’s hand again. “Sit,” Enid requested, smiling when her best friend listened.

Enid shifted her gaze from Wednesday to the other side of the table, catching Yoko sharing a look with Divina.

“Water sounds good, thank you, Xavier,” Enid accepted, grateful for the gesture and the potential friendship.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do for the newest member of the Nightshades.”

“If you accept our invitation to join, that is,” Bianca chimed in.

“I’d love to join!” Enid replied, happy to be included.

“Our offer still stands for you, Addams,” Bianca said.

“I shall reconsider my decision,” Wednesday replied, and it would be so great if they could be in a secret club together because it honestly wouldn’t be the same without Wednesday. “You will receive my final answer upon my return.”

Enid had ten weeks to persuade Wednesday that she belonged with the protectors of Nevermore. Wednesday was an Addams, a legend, and while Bianca made sense as the leader of the Nightshades, Wednesday should be assigned as co-captain. She’d have Enid’s vote and full support.  

But first, Enid really had to put something in her stomach. And Wednesday’s, if she could.

Enid bit into one of her croissants, moaning at the yummy flavor of freshly baked goods flooding her tongue. “Swo gwood,” she said around a mouthful, glancing at Wednesday only to find her staring. “You should…,” Enid swallowed her food, “try one of these.”

Before Wednesday could respond, Enid held one croissant out to her and smiled so much her cheeks hurt. She couldn’t help herself, though, considering what a wonderful day she was having. And it wasn’t even noon yet!

When Wednesday snatched the croissant out of her hand with a look that could kill, Enid worried Wednesday would throw it away and leave their table to start collecting the spiders she wanted to put in Enid’s bed.

“Stop making that face,” Wednesday snapped. “It’s…unacceptable.”

Enid relaxed her cheeks, clearing her throat as she reached for her tray. “Boiled egg?”

“Girl, I think she’s about to boil you,” Bianca commented while she got up. “It was nice knowing you, Sinclair.”

Chapter Text

Taking Enid with her was not Wednesday’s intended plan to spend her break, putting a halt to her desire to track down a serial killer and dismember them. Alas, this was the only choice to keep Enid safe, in case Tyler broke free and came looking for revenge. Enid nearly died the first time, and Wednesday would rather jump off a cliff than give him a second chance.

It was a relief Enid chose to go willingly, avoiding the need for more drastic measures. Wednesday had expected as much, however, considering Enid was obviously not fond of going home, and for good reason. What kind of mother wanted to send her child to a conversion therapy camp? It was cruel, and not in a pleasant way. Furthermore, there was nothing wrong with Enid, aside from her questionable taste and incessant urge to smile with the burning intensity of the sun.

“You keep bouncing your leg,” Wednesday noticed, mildly annoyed by the repetitive distraction, which had lasted nearly two minutes now. “Do we need to pick up flea shampoo?”

“I do not have fleas, Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, gasping as her leg stilled. “I’m just nervous, and you would be too if you were going to spend ten whole weeks with my parents–okay, you wouldn’t be, but I am. Nervous.”

Wednesday shut the book she was reading, which was rather anticlimactic anyway, considering the murder scenes hardly had detailed depictions of the victims’ suffering. “How can I help?” she asked, unable to endure seven hours of this without leaving Enid on the side of the road.

“Could you…,” Enid swallowed, fidgeting with those warm hands of hers that gave Wednesday something comparable to a sunburn whenever Enid touched her. She was wearing the same fuzzy orange and pink striped sweater she had on during their first night as roommates, but without the hideous floral skirt. Instead, Enid had paired it with soft light blue trousers, which was a small upgrade.

“Could you…,” Enid started again as though she didn’t have Wednesday’s full attention the first time. “Maybe sit here…with me?” Enid asked, gesturing at the empty space to her right.

Wednesday failed to see how moving to sit next to Enid as opposed to across from her could be construed as calming. Enid did, however, exhibit a strange fondness for touching others, which was evident when she embraced Yoko earlier today. Quite long, in fact. Perhaps Enid would prefer spending ten weeks with Yoko instead, seeing how she did replace Wednesday with that leech once.

“Wednesday, are you mad at me?” Enid sighed audibly. “You don’t have to sit next to me if you don’t want to. I was just saying how you could help me with my nerves,” she launched into an unwarranted explanation, considering there was no anger to speak of. “And I know you want everyone to think you’re scary, and sometimes you are, but I like being near you because you…you’re fearless. Nothing ever rattles you.” 

Flattering words, but Enid was mistaken, for there was one thing that did frighten Wednesday. In her sixteen years on this miserable landscape, she was no longer impervious to such a weakness. The mere thought of losing Enid, despite Wednesday wanting to tape her mouth shut sometimes, was unbearable. As she had told Enid, the mark she had left on Wednesday was indelible. It was permanent, impossible to erase.

Perhaps this was the price Wednesday had to pay for friendship.

“Earth to Wednesday?” Enid called out, piercing the silence Wednesday’s mind began to wander in.

Wednesday moved to sit next to Enid, thighs brushing as she did. “Satisfied?” Wednesday checked, putting a hand on Enid’s knee to help ease her jitters.

“Mhmm,” Enid hummed, lips curling up to form that treacherous smile. “If this were an Uber, I’d rate you five stars. Or four, because you did accuse me of having fleas.”

Wednesday tried to look out the window for possible roadkill to add to her collection or a hitchhiker to run over, but her eyes kept traveling back to Enid, mapping the stitches in case there was any sign of infection. It was unlikely there would be, though, considering Wednesday had often patched up her brother after a bad scrape.

“Hey, Wednesday? Why are you hesitating to join the Nightshades?”

“Social gatherings are not how I prefer to spend my time,” Wednesday answered, unwilling to participate in something as trivial as rooftop parties and skinny dipping, unless there was a piranha-infested lake she could push the others into to see whether a siren could outswim them without losing their tail. “Besides, I have already refused their offer once,” Wednesday explained, in case that wasn’t glaringly obvious during their atrocious breakfast, where she was forced to swallow a far too buttery and sugary croissant. “Taking it back would be a sign of weakness.”

“I honestly doubt they would see it that way after you saved our school,” Enid replied, though Wednesday would argue it was a joint victory, considering she wouldn’t have succeeded without Enid, Eugene, and Bianca.

“We saved Nevermore,” Wednesday corrected, imagining how many outcasts could have died if Enid hadn’t stopped Tyler so Wednesday could run to the school to stop Crackstone.

Bianca would have faced the pilgrim alone, and while she was an adequate adversary, it took both of them to send him back to hell. Without Wednesday, they would be digging a grave for whatever was left of Bianca, and vice versa. Wednesday hated to admit it, but it was nice to have people who had her back, even if one of them made her take an arrow to the shoulder.

Xavier was a nice guy, but in the end, as Wednesday had always suspected, all boys were stupid.

“Perhaps there is value in teaming up,” Wednesday reconsidered, willing to join on the condition Eugene received the same offer. “But I will not sample one of Yoko’s virgin mojitos.”

“Ooh, I had one of Yoko’s virgin mojitos when we were roommates,” Enid shared with an increased amount of decibels. “It was so good! She’s really great at mixing drinks.”

Wednesday furrowed her brows at the information her roommate hadn’t divulged before, despite Enid’s unrelenting tendency to mention every detail of each day, to the point where Wednesday wanted to stuff cotton balls in her ears. If Enid had kept that part of sharing a room with Yoko to herself, then it was plausible that there was more she had neglected to tell.

“Will you be moving in with Yoko after our break?” Wednesday asked, and as soon as the question passed her lips, she felt her jaw tense.

“Of course not. I already told you I would never,” Enid answered, and while she wasn’t wrong for once, that happened before her rather intimate hug with Yoko, who Wednesday had noticed eyed Enid quite frequently. “You’re the only roommate I’ll ever want. Pinky swear.”

Enid lifted her left hand, wiggling her littlest finger as she shifted on the cushion until she was sitting a bit sideways. Wednesday stared at the odd gesture, which held no relevance to strengthen the statement Enid had made. A blood oath, on the other hand, would be an acceptable offer.

Enid wiggled her pinky again. “This is the part where you put your finger around mine to lock it in,” she said, smiling in a way that made her eyes brighter, activating her secret weapon. “Unless…you actually want me to move in with Yoko.”

Before Enid could let her hand slip the way her smile did, Wednesday grasped her finger with enough force to bruise. It was too rough, but she couldn’t allow Enid to believe she wanted her gone because, as much as Wednesday enjoyed solitude, she didn’t want to be alone or end up with a new roommate she’d have to mysteriously disappear.  

“Whoa…,” Enid whispered, opening and closing her mouth. “For a second, your eyes turned completely black.”

Wednesday let go of Enid’s finger, keeping her other hand on Enid’s knee for now in case Wednesday had unintentionally upset her, seeing how her actions did erase Enid’s smile faster than snow in the sun.

“We should put up more decorations when we return,” Wednesday suggested, shifting her gaze to peer out the window to check for road signs indicating how long it had been since they left, considering she lost track of time.

“I’d love to add more decorations!” Enid exclaimed, and Wednesday didn’t need to look at her to know her smile had returned because she could hear it in Enid’s voice. “We could hang up lights, and maybe we can put tiny spider stickers on your side of the window or those little moons that glow in the dark. It would look so cu— cool.”

Stickers were for little children seeking validation from their teachers, and their room was bright enough without lights. Glow-in-the-dark adhesives were perhaps tolerable to accept, though not on Wednesday’s half. She preferred her dreamless sleep to remain immersed in a darkness equal to the black void in her chest.

“I have a collection of skulls and daggers I believe will improve the view,” Wednesday shared while her eyes landed on a road sign, indicating approximately half an hour had gone by.

“But we’re not allowed to keep weapons in our room. You could get expelled for that.”

“You’re right,” Wednesday replied, though that hadn’t stopped her thus far, and if they wanted to expel her, they had to find them first, which they wouldn’t. “Skulls it is,” she decided, snapping her eyes back to Enid, checking her stitches.

“I’m going to text Yoko before she gets on her plane,” Enid announced, and with some luck, it would be a turbulent flight ending in an explosion. “Should I tell her you said hi?”

Due to their close proximity, Wednesday couldn’t help but notice the pink heart next to Yoko’s name on the screen. “You can tell her I recommend the garlic bread,” Wednesday replied, looking away from Enid’s phone, before seeing something even more nauseating.

Hearts were generally reserved for lovers, which Yoko and Enid were not, considering Yoko had chosen to court Divina. Enid’s friendship with Yoko was obviously quite significant to Enid if it warranted that kind of emoji, in her favorite color, no less. Not that Wednesday cared how Enid seemed to miss Yoko after less than an hour apart.

Enid’s hand slowly crept down her thigh, inching toward Wednesday’s, where it rested on Enid’s knee, stopping when Wednesday glared at her. She thought Enid was satisfied with the offered touch, but her deliberate movements claimed otherwise.

Sighing, Wednesday turned her palm upward, allowing Enid to hold her hand for one last time. Enid’s fingers were warmer than before, sliding across Wednesday’s skin before intertwining with hers. When Enid squeezed, Wednesday felt as though the same was being done to her throat. She tried to regain control of her body, swallowing the discomfort churning in her stomach.

If Wednesday could survive a night being smothered with cuddles, she could endure a few hours of holding hands.

“I feel better now,” Enid exhaled, tilting her head until it rested on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Thanks, Wednesday,” Enid mumbled, followed by a yawn.

Wednesday wasn’t pleased to be turned into a pillow again, but at least she wasn’t being smothered entirely this time, and the silence that followed was a welcome reprieve. She tried to pry her fingers free to no avail, concluding that Enid’s hold was simply too strong to overpower without hurting her. Wednesday didn’t understand how Enid could sleep right now when Wednesday was up all night watching her sleep.

The weight of Enid’s head against Wednesday’s injured shoulder made her wound ache. The pain was bearable but slightly more present than the dull one of the stab wound Goody healed. Wednesday hated that in order to be healed, she had to give up her guide before she had the chance to truly get to know her ancestor, who was the only other raven that she knew of. Wednesday needed her and now she was gone, and so was Principal Weems.

Nevermore would never be the same without Weems, who died because she believed in Wednesday and went with her to confront Thornhill. Wednesday looked up to Weems, no pun intended. Weems was the parental figure Wednesday didn’t realize she had until she lost her, which left her feeling angry and sad, sitting with all of this grief in her chest. Wednesday wanted to scream, but couldn’t if she tried.

Wednesday’s eyelids felt heavy, fluttering against her will. She tried to pry them open, but she only had one hand, and as soon as she opened one, the other closed. Wednesday knew she was fighting a losing battle, where soon, she would be forced to yield.

Maybe just a couple of minutes then.

***

Wednesday’s eyes snapped open when she felt someone shaking her shoulder, and to her horror, the car had stopped moving. Her second realization hit her when she noticed Enid was still holding her hand with the other positioned on her lap, meaning she wasn’t the one who had awoken Wednesday.

Mentally preparing an explanation, Wednesday turned to look at the hand, breathing a genuine sigh of relief when she saw it was Thing rather than her mother and father, who would not let Wednesday hear the end of this unusual occurrence.

“We’re here,” Thing signed, pointing at the door.

“I can see that,” Wednesday replied flatly, still tired. “Thank you for waking me,” she told Thing, eternally grateful to him for sparing her the indignity of being caught in such a compromising position. “I trust we will not speak of this.”

“My lips are sealed,” Thing obeyed, throwing away an invisible key.

“You may expect several gifts soon,” Wednesday promised, as a token of her gratitude.

It wasn’t Wednesday’s intention to sleep until they arrived, let alone in such an awkward position, but her exhaustion was too overwhelming. Her body begged to go into a temporary coma, long enough to erase the aching feeling clinging to her bones. Nonetheless, Wednesday would rather die than have her parents find out she allowed someone to touch her and let them live to tell the tale. Repeatedly, she might add.

“Enid,” Wednesday said while she nudged Enid’s side. “Enid, wake up,” Wednesday insisted, shaking their joined hands.

When Enid failed to respond to Wednesday’s gentle methods, she raised Enid’s hand and bit down on the soft skin above her knuckles.

“Ow, what the heck!?” Enid exclaimed, yanking her hand away, awake at last. “Did you seriously just bite me?”

“I wanted to let you know it’s time to get out,” Wednesday explained, though if she could take it back, she wouldn’t. Enid was fine, Wednesday didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood.

“I can’t believe you bit me,” Enid whispered, but they had been over this already.

Wednesday smoothed the collar of her blouse to get rid of the creases, holding back a wince as she brushed over her injured shoulder. “Thing will run along and inform my parents of your arrival,” she announced, glancing at Thing, who took the cue and jumped toward the door.

Enid’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you’re kidding and you didn’t drive me all the way out here to stay with you without asking your parents for permission first.”

“I didn’t drive,” Wednesday stated matter-of-factly. “Lurch did.”

“Wednesday!” Enid groaned, revealing her claws. “Ugh, I can’t with you. You’re so…,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “So…”

“So?” Wednesday pressed, somewhat amused by Enid having ruined the car cushion without noticing.

It was fascinating how sharp Enid’s claws were, how she could slice things without effort, even in her human form. Wednesday had read several books about werewolves to expand her knowledge on things that went bump in the night, but those were nothing compared to observing one up close.

“Do not taunt me when my claws are out,” Enid warned with a fire in her eyes that was most intriguing. “I could nick you, or worse.”

Wednesday almost smiled at the thought of Enid leaving a permanent, tangible mark on her. Perhaps this would be an interesting summer after all.

***

“Mother, Father,” Wednesday greeted her parents. “You remember my roommate, Enid.”

“Yes, of course,” Wednesday’s mother smiled. “You’ll have to excuse us, Enid. We haven’t finished preparing a room for you yet, seeing how our daughter forgot to mention she wasn’t returning alone.”

Wednesday’s mother should be pleased that she wasn’t on the other side of the country, spending her summer break keeping an eye on Enid’s house. The only reason Wednesday chose to go home instead was because she could stand Enid’s family even less than her own, though Wednesday wasn’t intent on giving her parents the satisfaction of telling them.

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,” Enid said while she wrung her hands together.

“There is no need to apologize,” Wednesday’s father replied. “Any friend of our dear Wednesday is welcome to stay with us.”

“Whoa,” Pugsley gasped as he rushed down the stairs, staring at Enid. “You look ghastly!” Pugsley praised, smiling from ear to ear. “What happened to your face? Did you fight a bear?”

“She saved me from a Hyde,” Wednesday informed her brother, and by extension, her parents. “I would not be standing here in this mortal realm if it weren’t for Enid.”

Wednesday’s mother reached out to Enid, squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you for being such a good friend to our dark little angel,” Wednesday’s mother spoke with a kindness that Wednesday knew her mother didn’t have.

“Nuestra casa es tu casa,” Wednesday’s father told Enid.

Before her family smothered Enid with more of the hospitality Wednesday knew she enjoyed for some reason, she decided to show Enid around.

“I will give Enid a tour and do not wish to be disturbed,” Wednesday announced, moving toward the stairs. “We’ll see you for dinner later,” she added, turning to look at Enid, who stood frozen in place.

“Oh…okay,” Enid said, catching up. “Uh, thanks for letting me stay, Mr. and Mrs. Addams.”

When Wednesday reached the top of the stairs, she noticed Enid covering the stitches on her cheek with her hand. Wednesday paused, frowning at Enid’s strange behavior.

“My face looks horrible,” Enid exhaled, eyes shimmering with a wetness that made Wednesday want to murder someone. “I’m going to need so much make-up to hide my scars once my wounds are healed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Enid,” Wednesday said, confused as to why Enid would want to conceal something so dreadfully alluring. “Your face is perfect,” Wednesday assured the heroic little wolf, who spared her from dying a boring death at the hands of a spiteful boy, who got his silly feelings hurt when Wednesday stomped on his heart like she said she would.  

Enid dropped her hand. “Am I dreaming, or did you just compliment me?”

“It’s not a compliment, Enid,” Wednesday said as she walked on. “It’s a fact.”

Chapter Text

Enid knew the Addams family was well off because they had a personal driver and Wednesday was never short on cash to buy things, but Enid had no idea they were insanely rich. The driveway alone from the black iron gates with Addams spelled out at the top, to the front door with the bronze skull with a loose jaw as a door knocker, was three times bigger than the three-bedroom cabin Enid grew up in with her four older brothers, where she slept in the attic next to a pile of boxes filled with old clothes from when she and her siblings were little. Enid’s parents kept everything that wasn’t completely washed out or unraveling, to hand down to their grandkids one day, adding to the pressure where she had to find a mate and have a big family to add to the pack.

But Enid wasn’t sure if she even wanted that because she wasn’t like them. She didn’t want a daughter who’d have to carry the weight of the same expectations she did, or a son who might be pushed into leading the pack one day. Enid wanted a life where she could be herself, without having to follow in her parents’ footsteps and live under her mother’s thumb for years and years. Thankfully, she had four more years until graduation to consider standing up to her mom and risk getting kicked out of the pack, and while that might not be the worst thing, Enid did love her family and didn’t want to end up a lone wolf.

“This is the Moonlit Manor,” Wednesday shared while she gestured at the first door on the right, which had a gorgeous tree with orange and green-colored leaves carved into the mahogany.

It sounded like a lovely room, based on the name, and Enid wondered what it was used for. Maybe it had the most moonlight or strings of lights everywhere to create a luminous atmosphere that would be perfect for movie nights, but when Wednesday opened the door little by little like she really wanted to build up anticipation before the big reveal, all Enid saw was darkness. The second thing she couldn’t help but notice right away was the warm air, as if someone had turned on the heating during the winter and forgotten to turn it off again.

A light flicked on, and before Enid had the chance to observe and process what was inside, something flew past her head and brushed against her hair. She screamed and ducked, expecting more of what she thought was a bat annoyed by the intrusion, but when Wednesday caught the little creature, Enid noticed it was fluffy, like a hamster or a bunny.

“There is no need to be frightened, Enid,” Wednesday said as if she didn’t do that on purpose when she absolutely did. “This is Erebus,” the menace shared while the animal held on to her fingers. “He’s a Black Beauty sugar glider.”

He was a beauty indeed, with his shiny dark grey coat, which had a black stripe that started between his eyes and ended where his fuzzy black tail began. There were dark circles around his beady black eyes, like a raccoon, and he had a cute pink nose, and pink little hands and feet he continued to use to cling to Wednesday, who had to be his person.

“You didn’t tell me you had a pet,” Enid commented, watching in awe as Wednesday stroked the little guy’s head with a rare tenderness, and there was no way Yoko would believe Enid once she told her without a few pictures and a video to back her up.

“I distinctly recall mentioning my menagerie of pets,” Wednesday replied while her fingers stilled, which was sad for Erebus, who must have missed her a lot. “It was my first day at Nevermore, you were giving me a tour when a moron approached us, and—”

“Okay, your memory is literally insane,” Enid said, blinking at her best friend. “I thought you were kidding.”

“Wait,” Enid realized a beat later. “Pets? As in plural?”

“You might want to duck again,” Wednesday suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “seeing how squeamish you were the first time.”

Why did Wednesday say that like something not so cute was about to appear?

Enid followed Wednesday’s gaze as her eyes left hers, traveling toward a tree in the corner of the room that reached all the way up to the ceiling, watching as a tiny creature jumped from the top. When it glided through the air like it had its own invisible little parachute, Enid saw it was the same species as Erebus, but in a completely different color, aside from the matching black eyes.

“This is Nyx,” Wednesday introduced the white sugar glider while she caught it with her other hand. “She’s a Leucistic sugar glider,” she explained, and Enid had no idea what that word meant, but she guessed it had something to do with Nyx’s color.

What Enid did know was that Erebus and Nyx were kind of cute and definitely not scary or dangerous. There was no way those little furballs could eat people, let alone injure them, and the longer Enid looked at them, the more she wanted to hold one or even both, if Wednesday let her.

Enid had secretly and not so secretly always wanted a pet, but her mother thought it was ridiculous for her to have one because her mother believed pets and wolves didn’t mix. When Enid was about nine or ten, she found a kitten that was stuck in the mud and brought it home, but her mother forced her to give it away to some normie kid, and told Enid to never pick up strays again or else she would be grounded.

“Can I?” Enid asked, holding out her hands while she stepped closer. “Pretty please?” she added, smiling as she gestured at Nyx so Erebus could get more of the little head rubs from Wednesday he seemed to enjoy.

“Careful,” Wednesday warned, but Enid would never hurt Wednesday’s pets. “She bites.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “So, she takes after you then?” she noted with a chuckle, and while she could laugh about it now, it wasn’t funny when it happened. “I see.”

Wednesday blinked, and her cheeks had the faintest pink blush, but that had to be the heat because it was really warm in this particular room, and it was getting to Enid, too. She definitely picked the wrong day to wear her favorite sweater.

Enid gently moved the back of her index finger across the top of Nyx’s head, smiling when Nyx nestled herself around her thumb, and even though they had just met, Enid could tell that they were going to be inseparable during her stay. Nyx was an adorable little creature, and so was Erebus, who’d get his turn, too.

“She usually bites,” Wednesday insisted, and Enid believed her, but Nyx clearly had more self-control than Wednesday.

The names Erebus and Nyx sounded vaguely familiar, and Enid was pretty sure she stumbled across them somewhere at some point in her life, but her brain wasn’t really braining right now.

“Sugar gliders are marsupials,” Wednesday mentioned as she put Erebus on one of the branches of the tree. “They live mainly on insects, vegetables, fruit, and meat.”

“Oh, like koalas?” Enid replied, happy to learn more about Wednesday’s fascinating pets. “Minus the diet, I mean,” Enid added, because koalas were herbivores with a hunger for eucalyptus leaves.

Wednesday nodded. “Erebus and Nyx are nocturnal and thrive in a warm environment,” she shared, which explained the furnace-like temperature. “Their bedroom is kept at 84 degrees Fahrenheit to maintain their health.”

Enid’s mind tripped over the temperature, but even harder at the part where two tiny little furballs had a bedroom all to themselves. Back home, Enid would kill for just one room that didn’t double as storage space.

Compared to the tin can in San Francisco that Enid was relieved she didn’t have to spend her summer break in, the Addams family mansion was ginormous beyond any house she had ever seen, like a spookier, more haunted version of Nevermore. Enid faintly wondered if Wednesday had a map of her house, in case Enid needed to use the bathroom and got lost looking for one.

Enid kind of wanted to keep an eye on Wednesday, though, to protect her because multiple people had tried to murder Wednesday. And with all due respect to Wednesday’s family, they couldn’t keep her safe the way that Enid could, especially during a full moon. Plus, Wednesday had the annoying habit of seeking out trouble and putting herself in harm’s way. But Enid wasn’t going to allow that to happen on her watch.

“Sweet girl,” Enid whispered to Nyx, who was moving like she wanted to go elsewhere. “Is this where you want to be, hm?” she guessed, bringing Nyx closer to the tree. “You missed Erebus, didn’t you?”

Enid backed up a few steps, fanning herself with her hands, but it wasn’t enough. She had to take off her sweater before she melted into a puddle of sweat.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked the second Enid crossed her arms and grasped the hem of her sweater.

“I’m not getting naked, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Enid answered while she lifted the bottom. “I’m wearing a top underneath,” she explained, though with her sweater slightly raised, Wednesday could see so for herself.

Enid tilted her head up, groaning at the way her skin strained against her stitches.

“Stop that,” Wednesday bristled. “You’ll ruin my work.”

“But I’m hot,” Enid whined when Wednesday slapped her hands.

“I don’t care how hot you are, Enid,” Wednesday replied, apparently wanting her to faint from the heat. “You have to be careful.”

“If I can dress myself, then I can also undress myself,” Enid pointed out.  

“Yet here you are, wearing two layers of clothing.”

Enid groaned at how impossible Wednesday was being, pushing her buttons like she was daring Enid to push back, and if Wednesday kept this up all summer, she just might.

***

Enid was sure she hadn’t even seen half of Wednesday’s home yet, but the rumbling of her stomach got so loud that Mrs. Addams overheard it and insisted on moving on to the dining hall. It was a surprise she was hungry at all after Wednesday showed her the souvenir room, which was a space filled with body parts preserved in jars in a greenish liquid, straight out of a horror movie. The sight made Enid run out before she got too lightheaded and had those pungent smelling salts shoved underneath her nose again. And in different circumstances, she would have passed on food, but she did sleep through lunch, and she needed the calories. Plus, it would be rude to say no to Wednesday’s mother while she was under her roof.

The dining hall was larger than Enid’s home, with a table the length of a bus. Black chandeliers dangled from the ceiling with sparkling obsidian diamonds, holding lit candles that matched the yellow-ish ones spaced out on the table. There was no electricity or a sign of a light switch on the painted doves on the black wallpaper, so Enid figured they either chose not to use electricity in every room or didn’t have it everywhere.

But what caught Enid’s eye the most was the buffet that Wednesday’s parents had prepared. There was a pig on a silver plate with an apple in its mouth, a black bowl the size of a sink filled with white rice, four black slabs with an assortment of sushi, a basket with bread, a cheese platter, a charcuterie board, potato salad, a pot with a questionable grey liquid, and several tin cans filled with little round black things.

“You have outdone yourself, Tish,” Mr. Addams said, reaching for his wife’s hand. “This meal is to die for,” he exclaimed, pressing a kiss against Mrs. Addams’ knuckles, followed by one a few inches higher, and another.

“Gross,” Pugsley mumbled, looking away as Mr. Addams peppered kisses all over Mrs. Addams’ arm.

Wednesday yanked back a chair, causing it to screech as it scraped over the black and white tiled floor. “Do not make me book an overnight flight to San Francisco,” she scolded her parents, speaking to them in a way that Enid wouldn’t dare to try with hers.

“Someday you’ll understand, my little raven,” Mrs. Addams told Wednesday in an affectionate way, without any yelling or raising a hand.

Little raven was a cute nickname, and it suited Wednesday’s gloomy artistic vibe, but judging by the way Wednesday’s jaw tightened, Enid could tell she wasn’t a fan, and that Wednesday would do something worse than put spiders in her bed if she brought it up. Maybe Enid wasn’t the only one dealing with some kind of pressure from her parents, though Wednesday’s seemed much kinder because they still weren’t shouting or sending her to bed without dinner.

“This is a lot of food,” Enid said, hoping that they didn’t go out of their way for her because her appetite was nowhere near as big as she often claimed it was. “You must have leftovers all the time,” she thought out loud while she grabbed the chair next to Wednesday’s.

Enid waited for Wednesday to protest and tell her to pick a different seat, but Wednesday didn’t say anything.

“We never have any leftovers,” Pugsley shared, which was hard to believe because Wednesday almost never ate a full meal. “Our chickens eat everything, so they get fat enough for me to feed Chompie!” Pugsley explained with a huge smile.

“Who’s Chompie?” Enid asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“My alligator!”

Yup, Enid would have preferred not knowing they had a freaking alligator somewhere. OMG, what if she wolfed out, ran into Pugsley’s pet, and was forced to break his jaw open to stop him from chomping down on her?

Wednesday scooped two large spoonfuls of white rice onto her plate, reaching for the nearest black slab of sushi next. She retrieved a pair of black chopsticks from the side of her plate, where knives and forks were usually kept, which Enid now realized Wednesday didn’t have while everyone else did.

Enid watched curiously as Wednesday placed the chopsticks between her fingers, noticing her initials were engraved on them. Looking at what her best friend chose to eat almost made Enid forget about the empty plate in front of her, and just as she was about to go for the charcuterie, she saw Wednesday using her chopsticks like a pro, picking up a single grain of rice before dipping it into wasabi like it was ketchup.

While Enid could relate to liking sushi, wasabi was a whole different story. She tried it once, and it burned so bad she cried until she drank two glasses of milk, after which she vowed to never put that in her mouth again. But Wednesday acted as if wasabi was a side dish, putting it on every piece of sushi and grain of rice. It was completely unhinged, yet so Wednesday, and so was the smoothness and precision of her movements, like when she played her cello.

“Do I have something on my face?” Wednesday asked, eyes snapping toward Enid, who didn’t mean to stare.

“I didn’t know you knew how to use chopsticks,” Enid explained, and now that Wednesday asked, she actually did have some wasabi right underneath her bottom lip, which she was now licking, so never mind. “And I was wondering if maybe you could teach me sometime?” Enid added with a hopeful smile, looking forward to doing something with her best friend.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Enid suggested while her smile widened. “And the day after that, and the sixty-eight days after that.”

Wednesday looked away. “Sixty-nine,” she said hoarsely, like the wasabi was getting to her after all.

“Yes, but on the seventy-first day, we’re driving back to school, ergo it doesn’t count as one to be available for other things.”

“Touché,” Wednesday replied, and her voice hinted at a smile, but physically she didn’t. “As a reward for thinking outside the box, I will grant your request.”

Enid didn’t know when or where it would be, but she was super stoked knowing she would have sushi with Wednesday one day and learn how to use chopsticks. Probably sometime when it was just the two of them, because Enid guessed it required some hand touching to position her fingers right, and Wednesday made it clear there would be none of that around others.

“Tell me, Enid,” Mrs. Addams spoke up while moving the potato salad and the charcuterie board closer for her to reach. “Where do you see yourself after graduation?”

“Oh, uh, where I see myself in four years?” Enid replied, fiddling with her fork while she tried to come up with an answer. “To be honest, I haven’t really figured it out yet,” she admitted, seeing how it was actually four whole years in the future. “But it would be nice if I could have a steady relationship by then.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the one when the time is right,” Mrs. Addams said with such confidence it sounded like she was stating a fact. “Nevermore is full of potential.”

“I guess that’s true,” Enid considered, and she did need time.

Not four years, but the last thing she wanted was to start dating right away.

Nevermore was a big school with lots of groups, but Enid couldn’t think of any guy she liked enough to go out with, let alone kiss. She could meet some normie, but after what happened with Lucas, Enid could never trust a normie to understand and accept an outcast like her. No, no normies ever again. Enid’s soulmate was definitely an outcast.

Wednesday placed a salmon roll on Enid’s plate and nudged it with her chopsticks. Oh, how the tables had turned.

***

The room at the very end of the hallway where the tour had begun was completely black from the walls to the furniture to the wooden floor, and the tinted glass that kept out the sunlight and whatever view was out there. Even the pile of pillows on the bed were a shade of black, and Enid wouldn’t be surprised if the mattress was, too.

“This is my bedroom,” Wednesday announced, though the fifty shades of black décor pretty much gave that away already. “You may sleep here until yours is ready.”

Enid thought a guest room or a field bed or even a spot on a couch would have been prepared for her by now, but she wasn’t complaining about this arrangement, which was way better than sleeping in a strange place all by herself. Sharing a room with Wednesday was familiar and comforting, especially since last night when their friendship grew exponentially, and Enid found out that Wednesday really did care about her, and that it was mutual all along.

“Colors are strictly prohibited in my bed,” Wednesday stated as she walked over to her bed and started refolding her sheets, tugging at the edges to remove the tiniest of creases.

“That’s fine,” Enid agreed, nodding at the fair compromise. “Your room, your rules,” she stated, happy to be allowed inside at all, considering how strict Wednesday was about her personal space.

“I, uh..,” Enid began while she tried not to think about the colored streaks in her hair. “I have white pajamas, but they do have little red hearts,” she shared with an apologetic grimace. “But they’re very light because they’ve been washed a lot, and it’s all I have unless I sleep in my white top and boxers. Which I only have in pink and blue because white is no fun, and I don’t own anything black, not even for a funeral. Not that I’m saying black should only be worn at funerals because it really brings out your eyes, and you totally slayed with your outfit that night at the Rave’N,” Enid explained, pacing back and forth, waving her hands around as she talked. “I’m just saying I literally have nothing else to wear to stick to your dress code. And now that I think about it, I really didn’t bring enough clothes for ten weeks, and I should have gone home first to pick up more clothes because—”

“Enid,” Wednesday interjected, dropping the black pillow she was lining up with other pillows in the middle of her queen-sized bed. “Breathe.”

“But I—”

“Breathe in,” Wednesday insisted, inhaling loudly.

Enid nodded, pulling as much air into her lungs as she could.

“Hold,” Wednesday instructed while she opened the top drawer of the dresser next to her window, and Enid tried to, but Wednesday wasn’t counting to four like people were supposed to when helping someone regulate their breathing.

“Good,” Wednesday said just when Enid was about to turn purple and add more color instead of less. “Now breathe out,” Wednesday added at long last, like she waited on purpose.

Enid slowly breathed out, blinking when Wednesday pushed a black nightgown into her hands.

“You can change in my bathroom,” Wednesday offered, pointing at a door across from her bed.

Enid smiled at her best friend. “Okay,” she nodded, willing to wear one of Wednesday’s pajamas for one night, “but I’m not dying my hair black.”

For a fraction of a second, Wednesday’s lips curled up. “How about white?”

Enid’s jaw dropped at the quick and unexpected comeback. She needed someone to pinch her for real because first a compliment, and now a joke?

Who was this cutie and what did she do to Wednesday?

Chapter Text

Wednesday was not prepared for how strikingly well Enid looked in black when she walked out of Wednesday’s bathroom. If Ajax could see Enid now, he would eat his heart out and forever curse the day he ruined the best thing he ever had. Wednesday wanted to say something, but she’d hate to remind Enid of her break-up and inadvertently hurt her, so she remained silent instead.

Enid joined Wednesday on her bed, sitting on the other side of the pillows. Blue eyes met Wednesday’s one moment, flitting away the next before returning once more.

“Sooo,” Enid dragged out the syllable, moving the tip of her finger across the silk gown that Wednesday lent her. “Do you want to do something fun together?” Enid asked, which wasn’t a terrible idea.

Wednesday swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “I have an Ouija board,” she shared, happy to show Enid what a true seance looked like when it wasn’t performed by half-witted teenagers at a house party.

“Um, maybe some other time,” Enid replied, which was fine considering the dead weren’t going anywhere. Aside from Goody, who sacrificed her spirit to heal Wednesday. “For now,” Enid continued after a very short-lived silence, as usual unable to shut up, though Wednesday had grown used to the sound of Enid’s voice. “I was thinking more along the lines of watching a movie or playing a game.”

“What kind of game do you have in mind?” Wednesday asked while she got comfortable on her bed again, crossing her legs.

“Hmm,” Enid hummed, playing with a lock of her hair. “How about truth or dare?”

“Very well,” Wednesday agreed, sensing an opportunity despite the dull premise. “I dare you to fight me in one week’s time,” she challenged, seeing as how the rules of this insipid game demanded dares to be executed and questions to be answered, no matter how daunting they might be.

Enid was at Wednesday’s mercy, of which she had little to none. She did grant Enid leniency by giving her seven days to prepare for their duel, rather than face one another tomorrow, before sunrise. Wednesday counted on winning, though it would be much more satisfying to end up tied, whether it happened in the figurative or literal sense.

“You want me to fight you?” Enid frowned. “Why would—”

“I dared you to, therefore you must.”

“But I didn’t pick anything ye—”

“If I had a phone, how would you save my number in yours?” Wednesday questioned, and it shouldn’t matter to her, but it had been on her mind all day.  

“Oh, this one is easy,” Enid said, smiling as their eyes met, making Wednesday consider banning smiling from her room. “I’d put a black heart next to your name,” Enid answered, and while Wednesday liked black, Enid’s favorite color was pink.

Pink, like the heart next to Yoko’s name.

“Maybe a spider or a knife emoji, too,” Enid added with a chuckle. “Now, can I ask a question, or dare you to do something?”

Wednesday nodded, wondering which generic line would come out of Enid’s mouth, pulled from a random list on the internet where the dares were anything but daring and the questions were composed by a couple of Girl Scouts.

Enid shifted on the sheets, turning her body toward Wednesday. “Why were you screaming last night?” Enid asked quietly while her eyes searched Wednesday’s, as if the answer was written in them.

That was not a generic question, and while Wednesday had hoped for original ones, she did not anticipate Enid going off-script like this. In an instant, their roles were reversed, and Wednesday was now at Enid’s mercy, who indicated she had heard something that wasn’t meant to reach her ears. Damn that cursed blood moon, enhancing Enid’s senses.

“I felt upset,” Wednesday admitted, swallowing the bitter mixture of weakness and defeat. “I used Principal Weems to trick our enemy, without anticipating the risk. She should have been safe against a mere human. But she wasn’t, and now she’s gone,” she explained, and while Wednesday wasn’t the one who administered the nightshade, she was the poison.

Wednesday saw Enid remove the pillows she had meticulously put in the middle to share her bed equally, deciding to let it slide as long as they were awake, playing this twisted game referred to as fun.

“Weems was the beating heart of Nevermore,” Wednesday confessed, admiring her devotion. “She cared about all outcasts, even the lost causes.”

“You’re not a lost cause, Wednesday,” Enid said while she inched closer, crossing the barrier.

“My spirit guide was a raven, like me,” Wednesday exhaled, left with nothing but phantom pain and a book. “She was meant to teach me how to use my gift, but now she’s gone, and I’m alone as she foretold me I would be.”

“I’m not a raven, but I’m here,” Enid replied with the sickening sweet tone of pity, extending her arms as suddenly as she retracted them. “I’m always going to be there for you, Wednesday. Because it’s me and you against the world. Ride or die.”

When Enid caressed Wednesday’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, Wednesday froze. The gesture was intolerable, and she was about to slap Enid’s hand away when she removed it herself, drawing back with a remnant of a tear that was never permitted to leave Wednesday’s body.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Enid whispered, approaching further until their knees touched. “This stays between us. I swear it on my life,” she vowed, crossing her finger across her chest. “You’re safe with me, Wednesday.”

Wednesday felt a strange, unfamiliar feeling pushing against her ribcage. It was unpleasant to be seen as someone in need of protection, to be regarded as vulnerable and frail, when she worked hard to be feared. Wednesday hated her body for betraying her on such a profound level. Tears were pointless, and if Goody could see her now, she would roll over in her grave.

“I dare you to go to sleep,” Wednesday said, pushing Enid’s shoulders for good measure, watching as she lost her balance and landed on her back.

“Okay,” Enid sighed, righting herself. “I’m guessing you don’t want a hug.”

Wednesday didn’t want anything other than silence and space. Lots of space.

“Good night, Enid,” Wednesday said while she fixed the corners of her pillow until they were straight.

“But you’re still dressed,” Enid commented, gesturing at Wednesday.

Wednesday pursed her lips as she climbed out of bed. “I knew that,” she falsely claimed, though it was Enid’s fault she forgot.

Enid bit her lip but failed miserably to hide her smile. “No you didn’t,” she claimed with stubborn accuracy.

Annoying little wolf, Wednesday thought as she made her way to her bathroom. Something in Enid had shifted, beyond her transformation into a werewolf. She had more than claws now. Enid had teeth, and while her newfound boldness got under Wednesday’s skin, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t intrigued by the challenge.

Wednesday stripped and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The skin around her stitches was red and tender, but not swollen, and she wasn’t feeling feverish either. Within a week or two, her shoulder would be as good as new. Unfortunately, with minimal scar tissue, considering the small size of her wound and the steadiness of her hand with which she threaded the needle. But an arrow to the shoulder was more acceptable to live with than an arrow through Xavier’s heart.

When Wednesday returned to her bed in her nightgown, the pillows were back in the middle, lined up as she had done earlier tonight. They weren’t perfectly centered, but it was close enough, and she appreciated having her order restored. Wednesday couldn’t bear two nights in a row being smothered by a body several degrees warmer than hers. She would rather sneak into the local morgue and share a drawer with whichever soul escaped the mortal realm.

“Am I ever going to see you without braids?” Enid asked while Wednesday slipped under the sheets, even though their game of truth or dare had obviously ended. “Not that they aren’t nice, but you never—”

“I can’t sleep if you keep making noise,” Wednesday grumbled, about ten seconds away from a headache. “Stick to purring,” she added, crossing her arms across her chest in order to fall asleep comfortably.

“Okay,” Enid sighed heavily. “But I’m still not going anywhere,” she reiterated with a cheery tone. “You’re my dark cloud, remember?”

Wednesday did remember how they almost parted ways indefinitely, if not permanently. It was seared into her memory, along with every other interaction she had with Enid, despite her wishes to forget some. That time they fought, in particular, was hard for Wednesday to digest. She never wanted to feel the way she did when Enid left again.

“Good night, Wednesday,” Enid mumbled around a yawn.

“Night, Enid.”

Wednesday stared at the ceiling, willing her mind to tire itself out the way her body had. She wanted the darkness to swallow up her soul and spit it out at sunrise to suffer another day.

Alas, even when Enid started humming softly in her sleep, Wednesday couldn’t sink into hers. She had the strange and unsettling feeling that last night was better, when the opposite should be true. Enid was safely tucked in on the other half of Wednesday’s bed, far away from Tyler, who was sent to a psychiatric hospital called Willow Hill, over four hundred miles away in Vermont.

Wednesday turned toward her pillows and made a small gap. Enid was on her side, facing her way when she should be lying on her back or roll over to the right, rather than putting pressure on her wounds. Wednesday saw Enid twitch in her sleep and wondered if she was having a nightmare, though there was no pained expression to suggest she was.

Enid’s eyes fluttered open. “Howdy, roomie,” she whispered, smiling as she looked at Wednesday.

***

Wednesday stared at the blue and pink tie-dye shirt Enid was wearing when she joined her in the Moonlit Manor. It was unbelievable that Enid spent the better half of an hour in Wednesday’s bathroom, only to come out dressed in that. Perhaps Enid’s ramble last night about her clothes wasn’t misplaced, seeing how she indeed had nothing to wear. Nothing that wasn’t painful to look at, anyway.

“Hiii, Nyx,” Enid said, smiling from ear to ear as Nyx glided toward her. “You missed me too, huh?” Enid cooed, catching Nyx with both of her hands.

Maybe Enid’s scent naturally attracted animals for Nyx to be drawn to her. Wednesday wondered if Enid was unconsciously releasing pheromones to avoid coming off as a predator and to camouflage herself as friendly, although in Enid’s case, her kindness was not an act. 

Erebus followed Nyx’s lead, jumping toward Enid.

“Hi, Erebus,” Enid chuckled lightly, smiling as Erebus climbed up her arm, no doubt happy about her body heat. “Hi, little buddy.”

Wednesday never saw her pets bond with someone that fast, but she couldn’t blame them because Enid snuck up on her, too.

“Nyx, Erebus,” Wednesday called out with an urgent yet soft tone. “Vieni qui,” (come here) she commanded in Italian, patting the pocket where she kept their treats.

“Hey,” Enid gasped when Erebus and Nyx migrated from her arms to Wednesday’s. “That’s cheating,” Enid pouted while Wednesday fed her pets one mealworm each, doubting Enid had the stomach to touch worms as they wriggled about.

Insects were a good source of protein and nutrients for sugar gliders, and feeding them live insects mimicked the natural wild diet they needed to remain healthy. It made Erebus and Nyx think they were doing a good job hunting, which enriched their physical and mental well-being. Plus, the moisture in live insects kept them hydrated. But because insects had a high fat content, they were only suitable as treats, with a limit of five per day, though Wednesday never gave them more than three each to keep their diet as balanced as possible.

“I am not cheating,” Wednesday corrected, keeping an eye on Nyx so she didn’t steal Erebus’ treat as she often did. “They may like you, and that is fine, but at the end of the day, they are my children.”

“Awe,” Enid cooed, folding her hands together, hugging them to her right cheek. “That’s so—”

Wednesday glared at Enid, who shut her mouth at once. In hindsight, Wednesday should have done the same when Enid called her a cheater, rather than exposing her attachment to Nyx and Erebus. Wednesday had tried with every fiber in her body not to love them after what happened to Nero, but Wednesday had Erebus and Nyx since they were joeys, and she fed them with a syringe until they were old enough to be weaned. Therefore, she was their mother and had been for two years now.

“Can I take a picture of you guys?” Enid asked, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her pants. “I—oh.”

Wednesday watched Enid’s expressions shift from smiling to frowning while she stared at her screen, before frantically moving her fingers at an inhuman speed.

“Who are you texting?” Wednesday asked while she put Erebus and Nyx in their tree.

“My mom,” Enid answered, sighing as she continued to type. “She wants to donate a bunch of my stuff to the Grays, for their daughter Isla,” she explained with a huff, looking up from the device that allowed her parents to torment her from afar. “She says it’s time for me to grow up and get rid of ‘childish’ things,” Enid went on, adding quotation marks with her fingers. “So she’s giving my stuffed animals to the four-year-old I babysat last summer. And don’t get me wrong, I adore Isla, but those are mine, and it’s not fair of my mom to decide what I should and shouldn’t keep when she has been hoarding everything my brothers and I outgrew.”

Tears slid down Enid’s cheeks, and in that moment, Wednesday wanted to kill Esther Sinclair. Nobody was allowed to torture Enid, and if Wednesday had to go to San Francisco and break into the Grays’ home to retrieve the stuffed animals Enid was so sentimentally attached to, Wednesday would, even if she had to rip them out of that little girl’s hands.

Enid shook her head at her phone. “I should have never left the teddy bear my cousin Lucille gave me at home, or the monkey my dad helped me win that time we snuck out to go to the fair when I was seven, because my only friend moved away and I was upset and he wanted to cheer me up,” she shared while she dried her eyes. “But it’s too late now. My mom is going to give them to the Grays because once again, my feelings don’t matter.”

“Over my dead body,” Wednesday snapped, holding out her right hand.

“W-what…?” Enid blinked. “What are you doing?”

“I need to borrow your phone to yell at your mother,” and threaten to make wolf stew out of her.

Enid gasped. “You can’t yell at my mother, Wednesday,” she replied, holding her phone against her chest. “She’ll kill me.”

“If she lays one finger on you, I will—”

“Easy, thunder cloud,” Enid said, smiling for a second. “Promise me you won’t pull a Wednesday and sneak out to visit my home?”

“Yes…,” Wednesday considered, nodding slowly. “I promise I won’t.”

Enid raised a brow. “Or send someone else to do it?”

It was mildly alarming how well Enid had gotten to know Wednesday, thwarting her plans to seek out revenge, forcing her to let this go unpunished. Nevertheless, there was always another way, and Esther Sinclair would find out sooner or later what happened to those who crossed the Addams family. There would be no mercy or room for second chances.

Wednesday was going to find out what Esther loved more than anything in the world, and destroy it.

“Wednesday?” Enid prompted, frowning. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Wednesday clasped her hands behind her back. “We’re going out in five minutes,” she announced, and this time there was no room to stall with unnecessary goodbyes.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Enid giggled, waving her hand in a ridiculous salute. “Where to?”

***

The town was as empty as it was last summer, making one wonder how the shops hadn’t foreclosed yet, though Wednesday presumed her mother’s ever-growing collection of clothes had a hand in keeping them open. Their revenue certainly didn’t stem from the occasional sleazebag staying at the motel, buying outfits for his underpaid hooker while his wife was at home, trapped in a cursed marriage.

“Which store would you prefer to shop in first?” Wednesday asked, and while she had only intended to endure one, she wanted Enid to feel better.

“Oh, um… I don’t really…,” Enid said, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I only have a few dollars until I get my next allowance, which isn’t all that much.”

“You’re not paying, I am,” Wednesday stated, as was her intention all along. “Anything you pick is going into the wardrobe in your room, anyway. For you to take with you to Nevermore, should you wish to do so, or leave there until next summer.”

Enid blinked twice. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Next summer?”

“Or winter,” Wednesday responded, uncertain she would spend Christmas and New Year's with her parents. “Depending on where we’ll go for our holiday break, of course.”

“Um, Wednesday… I do have to go home at some point,” Enid said, wringing her hands together. “I can’t spend every break at your house.”

Wednesday didn’t understand why Enid would willingly return home to a family who did nothing but upset her when she could stay by Wednesday’s side. Enid never had to go back if she didn’t want to, but if she did, and Tyler was still alive, then Wednesday would have to go with her. Going within ten feet of Enid’s parents, however, might result in a series of fortunate accidents.

“I wish I could though,” Enid added after several seconds of silence. “I really like being here with you.”

“Consider your wish granted,” Wednesday replied, gesturing at the nearest store, where fabrics had gone to die out of shame for the hideous creations made with them.

“Okay, genie,” Enid chuckled, light and unburdened, if only for a moment. “Time to go back in your bottle.”

Wednesday felt that strange, unknown feeling stirring in her chest again. She had no idea what it was, but Enid seemed to be the direct cause of this most unusual occurrence, according to the evidence Wednesday had gathered thus far. It wasn’t much to go on yet, but it was a start toward an explanation, and a possible solution should one be necessary.

Enid skipped a step ahead, smiling while she chose the store to their left, where a mannequin dressed in pink feathers was displayed behind the window. If Enid wanted that plucked flamingo look added to her wardrobe, she could spend the remainder of their break in the chicken coop, grazing with the rest of them.

Thankfully, Enid ignored the display and walked on, stopping in front of four large rows with clothes on either side. Each row had a label on the left and the right, starting with undergarments and swimwear on the outer left, shirts and sweaters in the second row, skirts and pants in the third, and pajamas and jackets in the last. The colors were all over the place, chaotic and disruptive, and while Wednesday would rather watch paint dry than spend another second inside, Enid needed this.

“You may choose as many black pajamas as you want,” Wednesday announced, though white was a tolerable alternative.

“Oh…won’t my room be ready by tonight though?” Enid asked, tucking her hair behind her ears, which was a pointless endeavor considering the same few strands kept falling back in her face. “I’ve been here twenty-four hours.”

Twenty-one, but who was counting?

Wednesday shook her head, both in answer and correction. “My parents haven’t hired an interior designer yet,” she clarified, assuming they would, given the duration of Enid’s stay with them, and Wednesday’s intention to bring Enid with her again in the foreseeable future.

Wednesday hadn’t discussed that part with her parents yet, though she would eventually have to cross that bridge and explain why it was paramount to keep Enid close. It was not a request made by Wednesday on a whim, but an irrefutable deal they had to accept, unless they wanted Wednesday to cut all ties with them and file for emancipation. The thought had crossed her mind before, but as suffocating as her parents were, there was no place like home.

Enid’s eyes widened, and in the artificial light of the store, they seemed bluer. “They want to hire someone to decorate a room…for me?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her hair again, which grew irritating to observe.

Every single time Enid moved her fingers to touch her face as if it were a delicate flower, Wednesday was reminded of those same fingers on her cheek, catching a tear. It was horrifyingly intimate, and if Enid tried it again, Wednesday would hit her with a pillow and never bring up her foolish feelings again.  

“It’s an Addams family custom to personalize rooms to fit whomever resides in them,” Wednesday explained, though with Enid’s particularly colorful tastes, it was no small task to find someone suitable for the job. “Nevertheless,” Wednesday added while she grabbed a hanger that was placed in the opposite way of the others on the rack, putting it back the right way. “If you’re unsatisfied with our current arrangement, we can explore other options.”

“No, no, I’m happy with the way things are,” Enid said, raising her hands. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Wednesday almost smiled at that. “Don’t I always?” she remarked, turning to face Enid.

“You don’t fool me, Wednesday,” Enid claimed, taking a step closer. A little too close, but there was no way to back up without stumbling into a bunch of hangers, and Wednesday didn’t want to shove Enid away. “I know you love being roommates as much as I do.”

Wednesday was unaware Enid felt this strongly about sharing a room with her, until now. Perhaps Wednesday was wrong to assume Enid might gravitate toward Yoko again, or someone else entirely that Enid had more in common with.

“I do not love anything,” Wednesday exhaled, realizing she didn’t need to step back when she could simply step aside.

Enid gasped, smiling while she put a hand on her chest. “Not even Nyx and Erebus?”

Wednesday pursed her lips for a moment. “You’re insufferable,” she responded, moving away from Enid’s stupid know-it-all smile.

The sooner they were done here, the faster Wednesday could go home to practice a new piece on her cello in solitude. Meanwhile, Thing could keep an eye on Enid and paint her nails in that silver moon polish she appeared to favor.

“OMG, Wednesday, look!” Enid all but screamed, pointing at a mannequin wearing a black dress. “This dress is so you,” she claimed, grabbing the doll. “You should try it on!”

Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine,” she agreed, solely to shut Enid up. “But if you aren’t holding any clothes to buy by the time I get changed, I am leaving you here,” Wednesday warned, whisking the dress out of Enid’s hands the second she stripped the mannequin.

The dress was sleeveless, hugging the top of Wednesday’s chest like a glove when she tried it on in the changing room. It had a slit on the right, starting at her ankle and reaching up to her thigh, right above her knee. Wednesday stared at her reflection in the mirror full of fingerprints and hated the way the dress made her look like her mother, who, to Wednesday’s relief, finally seemed to have grasped the concept of space and didn’t push to turn this trip into a family outing.

When Wednesday walked out of the changing room, she found Enid standing only three feet away with an armful of hangers.

Enid’s jaw dropped. “Wednesday, your shoulder,” she said, furrowing her brows while she propelled herself forward.

Wednesday took a step back, leaving an arm’s length between them. “I am fine,” she stated truthfully, as far as physical wounds went, at least. “The arrow I was struck with missed my axillary artery,” she shared without adding that if it had hit her half an inch lower, she could have hemorrhaged and potentially died.

“I thought you said your ancestor healed you,” Enid commented, staring at Wednesday’s stitches.

Wednesday swallowed at the memory and how Xavier’s ill-timed need to play knight in shining armor nearly ruined Goody’s sacrifice. Wednesday faintly wondered if she would one day be a spirit guide to one of her brother’s great-grandchildren in need of a raven, but the main thing on Wednesday’s mind was who would guide her now.  

“You look a-ma-zing by the way,” Enid said gleefully. “You should totally wear this to the dance next year.”

There was no way in hell Wednesday would wear this dress again, and she had no intention of going to the dance next year. Xavier might ask her, given his inane and relentless infatuation with her, but the answer would always be no. Wednesday was not his muse to capture; she was his downfall.

“I’m taking this off, and then we are leaving,” Wednesday announced, opening the curtain of the changing room.

“Wait,” Enid said, reaching for Wednesday’s hand, stopping short of touching her. “I want to try something on first,” Enid explained, moving her armful of clothes. “Just one thing, to see if it fits, and then we can go.”

“Very well,” Wednesday sighed, backing away. “You have five minutes.”

Enid rolled her eyes. “I’ll come out when I’m ready to come out,” she replied with a huff and a smile, though an estimate of when that would be would be nice.

One minute later, Wednesday’s ears picked up a string of muttered curses after what sounded like Enid knocking her elbow into the mirror. Wednesday would ask Enid if she needed a hand, but hearing her struggle was more entertaining, so as long as Enid wasn’t bleeding, she was on her own.

Enid emerged in a black lace dress interfused with a reddish pink color, with ruffles at the bottom where it touched her knees. The sight was refreshing and surprisingly bearable, despite Wednesday’s usual aversion to color.  

“Can you take a picture of me?” Enid asked, handing over her phone. “From my good side,” she added, gesturing at her right, turning to hide her stitches on the left. 

Wednesday raised a brow. “You don’t have a good side.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, lowering her head.

“Both sides are equally worth capturing,” Wednesday clarified, appalled by the absurd notion that Enid had a bad side.

“Oh!” Enid said, smiling. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Wednesday found the camera on Enid’s phone and took a picture, photographing her as fully as she could. When Enid rushed over to look, she pressed her cheek against Wednesday’s, squeezing in close to see the tiny screen.

“I’m going to send this to Yoko real quick,” Enid announced, grabbing her phone from Wednesday’s hand. “If she likes—”

“For what it’s worth, I think you look ravishing,” Wednesday interrupted, though her opinion was clearly irrelevant, considering she wasn’t asked for hers. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to put my own clothes back on,” she said while she entered the changing room, yanking the curtain shut.

Once Wednesday finished, she waited for Enid, who giggled an annoying amount at whatever Yoko was texting her. For someone so eager to socialize, Enid was good at shutting Wednesday out and prioritizing her phone. Prioritizing Yoko, whose opinion Enid did value.

“Yoko and Divina think I should wear it to the dance,” Enid said while she moved the curtain aside. “They said we’ll match.”

“We?” Wednesday questioned, though she cared little what those two had to say.

“I’m taking you to the dance next year,” Enid announced with a blinding smile. “It’ll be our girls' night out.”

Wednesday blinked. “You are…taking me…to the dance?”

“Uh-huh,” Enid nodded. “And it won’t be kidnapping if you go willingly,” she added with a wink.

Chapter Text

Enid couldn’t believe how many clothes Wednesday ended up buying for her. It was like a whole new wardrobe, where nothing was passed down or thrifted, though Enid did have some second-hand stuff that was in decent shape. The bill for the shopping bags she carried inside the Addams family mansion was – well, Enid was messaging Yoko, so she didn’t see the total – but it was a lot.

Wednesday took her to no less than five different stores, and she paid for lunch! Enid hadn’t figured out how yet, but she was going to pay Wednesday back. Maybe not with money unless Wednesday could wait a few years for her to scrape enough together, but with favors, although Enid would do those for free. She could make another snood, but Wednesday didn’t seem to like the first one very much, so spending seven hours knitting a new one probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Welcome back,” Mrs. Addams said with a kind smile, standing in the hallway. “Lurch, the bags, if you will,” she requested, gesturing at Enid, who had grabbed her bags out of habit because she always carried her own stuff.

Lurch grunted, and when he took the bags out of Enid’s hands, she hoped he wasn’t in trouble for not bringing them inside when it was her fault. Enid just wasn’t used to the kind of life that came with a personal chauffeur and a butler, and she wanted to explain that to Wednesday’s parents, but they were so nice that she figured she didn’t have to.

“Don’t look so surprised to see me, Mother,” Wednesday said, staring at her mother in an almost glaring kind of way. “If I had any intention to run away this summer, I would not have returned home with my suitcase, though I am not here for you.”

“Well…,” Mrs. Addams exhaled heavily, a little misty-eyed. “I do hope you treat your friend kinder than you do your mother,” she added with an unwavering smile, and Enid felt bad for her.

Wednesday’s mom was so loving and warm, and Wednesday behaved like she hated her. Enid wondered if something had happened for Wednesday to be so cold to her own mother, who looked like she really needed a hug. Families weren’t perfect, and Enid guessed everyone had some kind of luggage, but Wednesday seemed pretty lucky from where Enid was standing.

Not everyone had a brother who didn’t bully them and a mother who didn’t yell at them. Not everyone went to bed with a full stomach and knew for sure they’d get food again the next day. Not everyone had their own space and the room to decorate it to their liking. Not everyone could lash out at their parents and know there wouldn’t be any consequences. Not everyone got to have a pet and love it without fear of having to give it away. Not everyone could bring someone home and be allowed to let them stay for two whole months without asking for permission first.

“Enid, dear,” Mrs. Addams said, drawing her attention. “What would you like for dinner?” 

“Oh, uh…,” Enid blinked at the question. “Anything is fine,” she answered, happy with whatever Wednesday’s mother decided to put on the table.

Enid probably looked like a picky eater last night because of how long it took her to put something on her plate, but she was just distracted watching Wednesday eat in such a graceful way. Back home, Enid was used to her brothers behaving like wild animals during meals. They ate everything with their hands, spilled stuff everywhere, and chewed with their mouths open. Sometimes, Enid couldn’t believe she was related to them, but the DNA test she faked her parents’ signature for last year claimed that she was.

“She likes steak,” Wednesday spoke up.

“I do,” Enid admitted, smiling and nodding while she thought about eating a juicy steak. “It’s a wolf thing.”

“Well then,” Mrs. Addams smiled. “Steak it is,” she announced, and with that, she left before Enid had the chance to thank her.

Enid followed Wednesday when she started going up the stairs, licking her lips at the knowledge there would be steak for dinner, which Enid hadn’t eaten in ages. It was expensive and her parents only bought it for special occasions, like her brothers’ birthdays. Enid asked for it for hers once, but her mother said her brothers needed it more, so that was that.

There was a clothing rack in the hallway, blocking the path to Wednesday’s door. Around the pole, Enid noticed a white card with her name written on it in black ink in cursive, with a little heart above the i. Mrs. Addams must have put it there while Wednesday took Enid shopping.

Wednesday wrapped her hand around the black metal and pulled it forward, wheeling it into her bedroom.

“Your new clothes should be cleaned in a day or two,” Wednesday shared, and Enid hadn’t even thought of that, but washing them was probably better because there was no telling how many people had tried them on before her. “After which, you can hang them here, along with the contents of your suitcase,” Wednesday said while she placed the rack in the corner behind the door. “For the time being, that is.”

“Right, until my room is ready,” Enid replied, aware that this was temporary.

Maybe Enid shouldn’t unpack, although her name was on the rack, and it would be rude to turn down a gift. Plus, it would be easier to pick out an outfit if she had all of them on display rather than having to go through her bags every time. And Wednesday’s room really needed some color to liven up the place.

“I am going to practice my cello for an hour,” Wednesday announced as she walked across her bedroom. “Meanwhile, you can spend time with Thing in his room.”

Enid blinked at the casual information that Thing had his own room, which she hadn’t seen yet because the tour Wednesday gave her never actually continued, and Enid hadn’t asked in case there was something worse than the souvenir room lurking in the shadows of the Addams family mansion. But Enid was really happy for Thing, who deserved his own space even if he didn’t take up a lot of room. Thing was an Addams, after all.

“Oh, um, would you mind if I stayed?” Enid asked, and while she couldn’t wait to see how Thing’s room was decorated, she wanted to hear Wednesday play.

“That depends,” Wednesday replied, putting her music stand in the middle of the open space behind her bed. “Can you be silent?”

Enid nodded, though she couldn’t guarantee she could be quiet for the full hour. She would try, of course, but there was something so moving about the way Wednesday played, which could lead to a compliment or two, and a standing ovation at the end of a song. It was like Wednesday poured her heart and soul into every note, so much so that she put people in a trance.

“If you give me five minutes, I can put on something black,” Enid requested, so she could sit on Wednesday’s bed without breaking her number one rule.

Wednesday raised a brow, head slightly tilted while she stared. “You have four minutes and fifty-four seconds left,” she stated while she continued setting up her things to play.

“Be right back, roomie,” Enid said, smiling as she moved past Wednesday to enter the bathroom.

Enid didn’t count how many minutes and seconds it took her to get changed, but when she returned, Wednesday was quietly waiting with her cello positioned in front of her. Enid sat down on the edge of Wednesday’s bed, sticking to the side Wednesday had wordlessly assigned to her.

Wednesday’s fingers curled around the top of her cello while she held her bow with her other hand, eyes fixed on the sheet music in front of her. For a moment, she was perfectly still, like the eye of a storm before it shifted and swept up everything in its path. But then Wednesday’s hands moved with the intensity of a tormented soul, blending the notes with melancholy.

Enid had the feeling she heard that same melody before, but differently.

“This sounds familiar,” Enid said out loud when her curiosity took the upper hand.

Wednesday’s fingers stilled. “It’s La Llorona,” she revealed, looking up at Enid.

“Oh, I see,” Enid nodded and smiled. “You gave it the Wednesday touch.”

Wednesday lowered her bow. “Explain.”

“Okay, so,…your version sounds more haunting and tragic,” Enid started, thinking how it sounded like Wednesday was chasing a ghost of something or someone, or both. Ay de mí – woe is me – as the lyrics included, reflected the grief Wednesday carried with her but rarely talked about.

“I can’t fully breathe when you play,” Enid admitted, sharing her truth. “Because if I do, I might breathe too loud and ruin the experience of witnessing your raw talent,” she explained, in awe of her best friend. “It’s like a siren song luring me into the sea, but with notes instead of words.”

“Your flattery regarding my performance of this piece is misplaced,” Wednesday replied, putting her bow down. “I have yet to master—”

“Just take the compliment, Wednesday,” Enid sighed, rolling her eyes at Wednesday’s stubborn refusal to recognize and accept praise.

“I’ll sleep on it,” Wednesday said while she moved to stand.

Enid shook her head. “Don’t make me throw pillows at you,” she warned, though she wouldn’t start a pillow fight in here because Wednesday didn’t like it when her space got messy.

“Pillows?” Wednesday repeated evenly. “How scary,” she added with a feigned gasp.

“Ugh, Wednesday,” Enid groaned, flopping down onto the soft mattress before sitting back up. “You’re so…,” she trailed off, wondering how she was the insufferable one when Wednesday took pleasure in getting under her skin.

Wednesday raised a brow. “So?” she pressed, case in point.

And nope, Enid was not doing this again because if she drew her claws, Wednesday’s mattress would be ruined, and her bed was way too nice to sleep elsewhere.

“One of these nights, I’m going to smother you,” Enid sighed.

Wednesday’s eyes brightened. “You’re welcome to try, lobita,” (little wolf) she challenged with an amused tone in her voice.

Enid had no idea how she was going to survive ten weeks with Wednesday without snapping, but no matter how hard Wednesday pushed, Enid still wasn’t going anywhere.

***    

The rich, earthy scent of a freshly cooked steak filled Enid’s nostrils when she and Wednesday joined Wednesday’s parents and brother in the dining hall. Every meal was plated already, but still steaming, like they walked in just in time.

“This smells incredible,” Enid said, inhaling as deeply as she could while she looked at her plate, which had steak covering one half and potatoes with veggies covering the other half. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Addams.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling at her. “Anything for our favorite guest.”

Enid reached for her knife and fork, aware of the others staring at her, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe they wanted to see if she really did like steak, so she cut off a corner and put it in her mouth. The flavor hit her tongue immediately as it practically melted before she even began to chew. It was sweet, buttery, and slightly nutty, and Enid had never eaten anything so delicious in her entire life.

“It’s Wagyu,” Wednesday shared when Enid devoured the last bite.

“Oh my…,” Enid whispered, tempted to lick her plate clean, but that would be bad etiquette, and she didn’t want to behave like a dog. “If you keep feeding me things like this, I might never leave,” she shared with a chuckle and a smile.

Wednesday pushed her plate next to Enid’s, inclining her head at the untouched piece of steak.

Enid’s heart warmed, realizing once again that Wednesday wanted to have her around and keep it that way. But Enid didn’t want to steal Wednesday’s food because Wednesday needed to eat too, and the iron would be good for her, so she nudged the plate back.

“Eat or be fed, Enid,” Wednesday said, moving her plate back toward Enid.

Enid cut off a piece. “You first,” she insisted, holding out her fork.

Mr. Addams laughed. “Cara Mia, this brings me back,” he said, grasping his wife’s hand, kissing her knuckles. “How thrilling to see our little death trap meet her equal.”

“Tamp down the exuberance,” Wednesday commented, moving her chair several inches away. “Enid and I are not alike, for she is the sun and I am the dark cloud consuming her light.”

Wednesday and Enid were different, but they weren’t total polar opposites either, and if Wednesday wanted to compare her to the sun, she should know Enid would never burn out. And like she told Wednesday before, they shouldn’t work, but they did. They already proved that by beating the odds and forming a friendship that turned into them becoming each other’s best friend.

Mrs. Addams snapped her fingers, and just like that, Lurch appeared with another plate and placed it in front of Wednesday.

“Your wounds seem to be healing well, dear,” Mrs. Addams said while she looked at Enid, and they were.

Enid was relieved that the soreness and the pain were gone, and she hoped the scarring would be minimal after her skin healed because she really didn’t want to look like she ran into Edward Scissorhands for the rest of her life. Then there were also the reactions of her parents, who had no idea what Enid did and what it cost her, but wouldn’t understand that the alternative was a price she could never pay. Maybe her parents would be proud and praise the marks of her victory, but that was wishful thinking. It was more likely that her mother would be upset that she ruined her face and neck, and tell Enid she should have never protected Wednesday.

But Enid would rather die than live in a world without her best friend.

“I can’t believe you fought a Hyde!” Pugsley exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re awesome!”

Enid smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Were you scared?” Pugsley asked, eyes comically wide.

“Terrified,” Enid answered honestly, shuddering at the memory. “But I wasn’t thinking about me. All I could think about was Wednesday.”

Enid’s heart was beating so fast when she almost didn’t get to Wednesday in time, seeing that monster ready to kill her. Tyler was bad news from the start, and Enid should have followed her gut feeling and pressed harder when she asked Wednesday if she was sure she could trust that normie. Enid regretted that she pushed Wednesday into his arms, sending her to the Weathervane to be with him, when Enid knew Wednesday deserved someone better.

“Ah,” Mr. Addams said, raising his glass. “True…,” he paused and shared a glance with his wife, “…friendship.”

Enid bobbed her head. “Wednesday is my best friend,” she told Wednesday’s family. “I’d go through fire for her,” Enid added, and it sounded sappy, but she would because friends had each other’s backs.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling with such maternal warmth it healed something inside of Enid. “Our Wednesday needs a friend like you.”

Enid would argue she needed Wednesday just as much, but Wednesday had stopped eating, and Enid didn’t want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. Wednesday wasn’t good with feelings, whether they were sad ones or happy ones, and Enid respected Wednesday’s need for distance. 

“Mother,” Wednesday said with a cold tone. “¿Qué estás tramando?” (What are you plotting) she asked, staring at her mother.

“Nada,” (nothing) Mrs. Addams answered.

“Estás tramando algo,” (you are up to something) Wednesday insisted, her voice carrying a sharp harshness, like a dagger. “Sea lo que sea, se acaba ahora,” (whatever it is, it ends now) she added, stabbing the black olive on her plate with the tip of her knife.

“¿Pasarías por el fuego por ella?” (would you go through fire for her) Mr. Addams asked Wednesday.

“Fuego del infierno,” (hellfire) Wednesday answered her father. “Pero eso no está en cuestión,” (but that’s not in question) she added, continuing her assault on her food.

Enid wondered at what point she should tell Wednesday she understood Spanish because her cousin Lucille’s mother was born in San Miguel de Allende in Mexico, and had taught Enid since she was five.

Maybe after their fight next Saturday, just to be on the safe side in case Wednesday got mad and invoked a military challenge where the winner had to draw first blood, because Enid really didn’t want to injure Wednesday with her claws.

***  

“I’m sorry I haven’t painted your nails yet,” Enid apologized to Thing. “Let me call Yoko first, and then we can do each other’s nails,” Enid promised, holding out her pinky, smiling as Thing put his finger around hers.

With Wednesday somewhere else in the mansion, Enid was alone in Wednesday’s bedroom with Thing, which gave her the perfect opportunity for a video chat. Not that Wednesday wasn’t welcome to join, but Enid doubted she was interested in talking to Yoko or hearing Enid talk to her, and Wednesday probably wanted some time to herself anyway.

Enid set up her laptop on top of one of the pillows, which she would put back in its place after her call, propping the one she slept on behind her back for comfort. As soon as her screen was on, Enid opened the connection to FaceTime, smiling when Yoko accepted after the first ring.

Yoko was sitting in bed, too. Her screen was darker, probably because of the blackout curtains she once mentioned she had at home, so she didn’t have to wear her sunglasses, but she did have pretty lights on the wall behind her, shaped like bats.

“Hii, Yoyo,” Enid greeted her friend with a smile and a wave.

“Hey, E,” Yoko replied, and when she smiled, Enid saw a glimpse of Yoko’s fangs. “Whoa,” she gasped, leaning closer to the camera on her end. “Did Wednesday convert you?”

Enid frowned at the strange comment, but then she remembered she was wearing Wednesday’s black nightgown to comply with her rule of no colors in her bed. Maybe she should have worn her own clothes and taken a seat on the floor or something, but it wasn’t the first time Yoko saw Enid wearing pajamas.

“I’m sleeping in Wednesday’s room,” Enid explained, and she would send pictures if Yoko didn’t believe her, but Enid figured the live footage was evidence enough. “But only temporary,” she added, which was an important detail that required a longer explanation that she wasn’t even sure she fully understood herself.

“Okay,” Yoko nodded, smirking. “But don’t dye your hair black.”

“That’s what I said to her! That I’m not going to dye my hair black!” Enid exclaimed, smiling at the memory. “And she suggested white.”

“There’s always grey…”

“Eww, no,” Enid laughed, never ever going for such a depressing color. “I don’t want to look like my mom,” she grimaced, but as soon as she brought up her mom, Enid remembered the conversation she had with her this morning.

“Hey,” Yoko said softly. “What’s wrong, Boo?”

“It’s my mom,” Enid answered, retracting her claws when she felt them scrape the palms of her hands, on the verge of puncturing her skin without meaning to. “She texted me today to let me know she packed up all of my stuffed animals to give to the sweet little girl I told you I babysat. She said I’m too old for stuffed animals, but they’re more than just stuffed animals to me.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“I tried, but she doesn’t get it,” Enid sighed, swallowing at the knowledge that the only thing from her childhood she desperately wanted to keep was gone. “And I asked if I could keep half of them, you know, to compromise, but she said I have plenty more at Nevermore.”

“Your mom sounds like a bitch,” Divina scoffed while she popped up on the screen and sat down next to Yoko, who pressed a little kiss to Divina’s temple.

Enid immediately smiled at the sight of the loving gesture, knowing Yoko didn’t easily let people see her affection toward her girlfriend. Yoko was lowkey a romantic, though, writing love letters to Divina and keeping a stash of her favorite snacks, which Enid thought was adorable.

“Sorry for eavesdropping,” Divina said, gathering her hair and putting it over her left shoulder. “I just got out of the shower and didn’t know you were in the middle of a call.”

“No, it’s okay,” Enid assured her friend, not upset in the slightest. “I wouldn’t tell Yoko anything I’m not okay with you knowing, too.”

Enid did talk to Yoko more because Yoko had approached her first, and they were roommates for a short time, but Enid liked that she was building a closer friendship with Divina, too. Hanging out with both of them was like a double bonus, and if Enid could swap her brothers for sisters, she would choose Yoko and Divina in a heartbeat.

Divina narrowed her eyes. “Are you wearing Wednesday’s pajamas?” she asked, shrieking when Yoko elbowed her.

“Technically, I am,” Enid answered, looking down at the black nightgown for a moment. “But this gown is so soft and smooth to sleep in, I might keep it and hope she forgets she lent it to me,” she confessed, although with Wednesday’s knack for remembering stuff, Enid might have more luck asking nicely.

“Interesting,” Divina said, handing a brush to Yoko. “I didn’t think little Addams would share her stuff that easily.”

Yoko’s lips quirked up. “Guess whose room she’s in, babe,” she commented while she started combing Divina’s hair.

Enid was done with relationships for a while, but she kind of wanted what Divina and Yoko had. Enid would love to share tender moments like that with someone, where she could relax and have her hair brushed, and get forehead kisses, and cheek kisses, and nose kisses.

Divina hummed when Yoko pressed her lips against her shoulder.

“You should change your name to Divine,” Yoko said to Divina, kissing her neck. “My divine angel,” Yoko continued, grasping Divina’s jaw while she pulled her closer.

Divina’s mouth crashed into Yoko’s, sharing a languid kiss while they held on to each other. Enid saw them kiss before, but not like this, not with their tongues exploring like that. It was a lot to witness, and it was a lot more than the quick pecks they usually shared in front of others.

“Um…,” Enid cleared her throat. “I’m still here, guys,” she reminded the happy couple before they went any further and made her have to see a therapist.

Divina pulled back, touching her fingertips to her lips. “Damn,” she shuddered, staring at Yoko.

“My bad,” Yoko said, retracting her fangs, licking a remnant of blood off her lips. “How are things with Wednesday, by the way? Did she buy that dress?”

“No, I think she hated it,” Enid answered, though she had no idea why. “But she did like my dress,” she added, happy that Wednesday not only approved her choice but complimented her for it.

“Oh, and Wednesday called me little wolf,” Enid shared with her friends. “But she doesn’t know that I know because she doesn’t know that I know Spanish.”

“She nicknamed you?” Divina asked.

“Do you think that’s what it is?” Enid questioned out loud. “You don’t think it’s derogatory?” she wondered, although Wednesday didn’t sound like she was trying to insult her when she said it.

“Not unless you think it is,” Divina shrugged.

“Maybe you should give her a nickname, too,” Yoko suggested. “See how she reacts.”

“Um, no thank you,” Enid grimaced, although she would love to give her best friend one. “I don’t want to wake up in a hole with Wednesday shoveling dirt on top of me.”

“Something tells me she wouldn’t put dirt on top of you,” Yoko replied before whispering something in Divina’s ear that Enid didn’t catch.

“We’re going to end the call now to watch a movie,” Divina announced. “Talk to you later, sweetie.”

“Okay,” Enid nodded, happy she got to see and hear her friends. “Talk to you guys later.”

“Good night, Wolfie,” Yoko teased. “And fyi, black becomes you,” she added with a wink.

Enid ended the call and closed her laptop, agreeing that black wasn’t a bad look on her, though she did prefer pastels. She just finished putting everything back in place when Wednesday entered, carrying a large black mug with a snake as a handle. Not a real snake, thankfully, or Enid would have been out the door by now. And she thought Wednesday had made herself a cup of coffee, but then Enid noticed the whipped cream and colored sprinkles on top.

“It’s hot chocolate milk,” Wednesday said while she approached. “I made it for you,” she shared, offering the drink to Enid, staring at her as she did.

Enid took a sip, and it tasted a little funny, but the chocolate was so good, and she liked the little marshmallows hidden under the whipped cream. Plus, it was really sweet of Wednesday to bring her something, spoiling her again. Wednesday was such a good best friend, and she really cheered Enid up and comforted her in her own way with that impromptu shopping trip.

Wednesday nudged the bottom of the cup, but Enid wasn’t stalling because she wasn’t a fan. She was just trying to figure out what that strange flavor was, guessing it was some kind of herb she hadn’t come across yet, or a special kind of milk. If it was the latter, Enid might prefer not knowing what animal it came from.

Enid drank the rest of the hot chocolate, licking her lips to show how yummy it was. Wednesday grabbed the empty cup, and for a second, Enid thought she saw Wednesday smiling, but Enid’s vision was a little bit blurry, kind of like the room was spinning, so it could have been a pout or a frown.

“Thank you, Ww…,” Enid yawned, and suddenly she had the overwhelming need to close her eyes. “I feel real…really sleepy,” she struggled to get out, but it was weird to be this tired because it wasn’t even half past nine yet, and she was used to going to sleep right after ten back at Nevermore, when everyone had to turn their lights off.

The last thing Enid saw before she couldn’t fight her sleep any longer was Wednesday covering her with a blanket, and then everything went black.

Chapter Text

“Enid is fine,” Wednesday sighed while Thing frantically tapped and signed, as if she would poison the little wolf she intended to protect. “The sleeping pills will wear off tomorrow,” she shared, and if the dosage and her calculations were accurate, Enid should awaken no later than noon.

Thing tugged at Wednesday’s wrist when she grabbed her backpack. “You promised,” he said, moving his fingers, pointing at Enid.

Wednesday was well aware of the promise Enid tricked her into, and as much as Wednesday wanted to break it, she wasn’t.

“I am not going to her house,” Wednesday stated, zipping her backpack open. “I am going to the Grays’ house.”

Enid was clever to call Wednesday out on her plans to send someone else to her house, but Enid never said anything about the Grays’ house. It was the perfect loophole for Wednesday to get what she wanted and uphold her promise. Well, what she truly preferred to do was break into Esther Sinclair’s home and burn it to the ground, but turning Enid into an orphan would not help Wednesday keep her close. On the contrary, it could make her lose Enid forever, which was not acceptable.

Wednesday grabbed her torch, a rope, a pair of gloves, a watch, a headlamp, a compass, and a roll with large plastic trash bags, shoving them into her backpack as quickly as she could to avoid wasting a minute of the time she needed to complete her mission.

“You have to stay with Enid,” Wednesday told Thing while she retrieved a dagger made out of stone secured with rope around a wooden handle, and tucked it into her right boot.

Wednesday had sharpened the stone herself while preparing for a different kind of summer travels. It was not as good as her steel collection, but it was undetectable and could pierce through flesh all the same when she applied slightly more pressure. Wednesday would have liked more weapons on her person, of course, but there was no time to make wooden spears and a stone axe.

Besides, a four-year-old little runt couldn’t possibly put up much of a fight.

Thing climbed onto Wednesday’s bed and held two fingers against the side of Enid’s throat, even though her chest visibly rose and deflated with every breath she took.

“Seriously?” Wednesday hissed while she grabbed another rope. “You think I would kill my roommate?”

“Just checking,” Thing signed, moving over to lean against one of the pillows.

Wednesday tied the rope around the foot of her bed, knotting it twice to ensure it would hold before she secured her climbing harness around her waist. Plummeting to her death was not in Wednesday’s top ten choices of ways to die, and dying at her own hands would be underwhelming and inconvenient. She had unfinished business to deal with first, on top of keeping Enid safe at all costs.

Enid was fine, resting on top of the pillow Wednesday placed under Enid’s head so her neck wouldn’t be sore tomorrow. There was a little bit of chocolate on Enid’s chin that she missed while licking her lips repeatedly. Wednesday thought of leaving it there, but on second thought, she didn’t want Enid to roll over in her sleep and smear it onto her pillow.

“Always messy,” Wednesday whispered, sighing as she licked the top of her index finger. She moved her finger across Enid’s chin, gathered the chocolate, and put it in her mouth. The sweet flavor made Wednesday cringe, but it was better than spending the night away, thinking about Enid’s face.

Wednesday paused when she caught Thing looking. “If you’d like to keep all five of your fingers, you will not breathe a word of this to anyone,” Wednesday warned while she slung her backpack around her shoulders. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Thing obliged, adding the Scout's honor sign.

After prying her window open, Wednesday turned to glance at Enid’s sleeping frame one last time, and then Wednesday spread her arms as she allowed herself to fall backwards. For a blissful second, she felt thrilled to be alive, but then her boots landed on the ground with a soft thud, and the moment was gone.

Getting down was an easy endeavor, but scaling the walls to get back in her room upon her return would not be as effortless. Of course, there was always the tree near her window that Wednesday could climb, after which only a five-foot jump was required to leap through her window.

Wednesday took off her climbing gear, hid it in the bushes, and retrieved the skateboard she stowed away earlier tonight while Enid was doing whatever it was that Enid did in Wednesday’s room. It was dark out by now, providing cover as Wednesday rode her skateboard to the gate. She did spike her parents’ wine with Rohypnol while her father was distracted singing a song in the kitchen, which was more potent than the sleeping pills she slipped Enid.

Once Wednesday reached the gates of her prison, she threw her skateboard over the top. The lock was not one she hadn’t cracked before, but she decided to climb to avoid leaving a trail. Wednesday gripped the iron bars, pulling herself up with each step. She was already over the gate and on her way down when her boots slipped. Wednesday expected a rough meeting with the ground that would earn her a couple of bruises and scrapes on her back, but unfortunately, her fall was broken by landing on someone else.

“Hi, little jailbird. How’s the escape going?”

“Uncle Fester,” Wednesday smiled as she got back on her feet, turning to face her uncle. “I thought you were going to wait at the airport.”

“And miss the start of the show?” Uncle Fester giggled, dusting himself off as he got up.

Wednesday had a getaway scooter hidden in the woods for emergencies, but if her uncle was here, they could use his instead. “Where is the sidecar?” she asked while she peered at the outline of a vehicle in the distance.

“There isn’t one,” Uncle Fester answered, taking a set of keys out of his pocket. “It’s a Kawasaki Ninja H2R.”

“You brought a motorcycle?” Wednesday gasped, smiling so much it physically hurt. “Can I drive?”

Uncle Fester handed over the keys, making a dream that Wednesday had since she was twelve come true. The motorcycle was a beautiful beast, all black and streamlined. It came with a four-cylinder engine with a mechanical centrifugal supercharger, and it had racing slick tires that weren’t allowed on public roads.

Wednesday put on the smallest of the two helmets resting on top, tossing the other one to her uncle. She had never driven anything other than a car during a high-speed chase, but Wednesday didn’t need lessons when she could learn by doing. The first thing she discovered, much to her dismay, was that the bike was too heavy for her to hold. To add insult to injury, Wednesday wasn’t tall enough for her feet to touch the ground.

“Hold on,” Uncle Fester said while he rushed to Wednesday’s aid, steadying the motorcycle. “Careful,” he cautioned as Wednesday got comfortable in the seat, “she goes from zero to sixty in three seconds.”

Wednesday smiled at the prospect of a thrilling ride. “Then you’d better hop on fast,” she warned, putting the key in the ignition.

“Step on it, toots!” Uncle Fester yelled as he climbed on.

The beast roared underneath Wednesday as she accelerated the speed, surpassing sixty miles an hour, then seventy, then eighty, then a hundred until she kept it steady at a breezy hundred and twenty. Wednesday had never gone this fast before, and the thrill of colliding with another vehicle in a grand explosion was exhilarating. She could increase the speed further, until it reached its limit of two hundred and fifty miles an hour, but if Wednesday died, Enid would be alone, so she didn’t.

Trees zoomed by as Wednesday zigzagged around traffic, missing a cyclist by a hair as they dove into the ditch. She could do this all night long, alas, the airport wasn’t that far, and the minutes she had spared on her schedule were useful for the pitstop she had to make before getting on the plane. Wednesday found herself thinking about Enid again, which wasn’t surprising considering this entire journey was for her.

Would Enid have wanted to go with Wednesday tonight if she had asked?

Even if Enid had said yes, Wednesday doubted she had the stomach to be her passenger. Knowing Enid, she would cling to Wednesday like a baby koala to its mother. And Enid would talk non-stop, listing every possible dangerous scenario, such as the plane going down or Isla Gray’s parents waking up in the middle of them breaking into their house. Yet, Wednesday wasn’t convinced she had made the right decision.

It had to be the distance, putting Wednesday’s mind in a state of unrest, knowing she wasn’t by Enid’s side to shield her from harm.

Wednesday slowed to a halt right outside the airport, feeling the motorbike tip sideways before her uncle planted his feet to keep it steady. As soon as Wednesday got on the plane, there was no turning back, although she burned that bridge the moment she put Enid to sleep.

“I saw my life flashing before my eyes,” Uncle Fester said while he lifted Wednesday and put her down on the ground. “What a fun little video,” he smiled, hopping off the motorcycle.

“If you tell anyone I couldn’t reach, I will gut you,” Wednesday warned her uncle, who was lucky to be one of her favorite people. Otherwise, she would not have let it slide that he picked her up when every Addams was aware of her aversion to touch.

The only exception was Thing, who was allowed to sit on Wednesday’s shoulder without facing imminent dismemberment or death.

Uncle Fester took off his helmet. “I would rather cut out my tongue than betray you,” he stated, locking his lips with an invisible key.

“Good,” Wednesday replied, taking off her helmet. “Can I drive again when we return?” she asked in advance, looking forward to feeling that alive again.

“Anything for my favorite Addams,” Uncle Fester winked, and Wednesday would say the same, but her uncle was one of three. “I can hijack the plane and let you fly. Just say the word.”

It was a tempting offer, but Wednesday would rather not add terrorist to her criminal record. She had to keep a low profile to stay off law enforcement’s radar. The speed limits she broke one road at a time just now didn’t count, of course, for there was no license plate to capture proof, and any footage they had was bound to be blurry.

Wednesday made it through the metal detector, as expected, while her uncle explained to security why his head made their machine and their wand go haywire.

Security frowned when Wednesday went through the bag check, opening her backpack to look at her supplies.

“Camping trip,” Wednesday explained, realizing a sleeping bag might have sold it more. “While my uncle is still alive to take me,” she added on a whim, drawing the sympathy card normies ate up like French fries at McDonalds.

***    

3:35 am Wednesday saw at the airport on her way out, setting her watch to the same time. They had one hour to pay the Grays a visit and return for their direct flight back, otherwise, they had to wait another hour for a plane with an overlay in Denver. It wasn’t a lot, but it would have to do.

Wednesday had to stay on track to make it back by eleven, and pretend she forgot she locked her brother in the dungeon. She did leave him a lightbulb he could use as a nightlight, and there were plenty of insects down there he could snack on. Wednesday wasn’t prone to showing such generosity to Pugsley, but he was kind to Enid during dinner and made her feel good about herself.

“Did you bring the map?” Wednesday asked while they searched the streets for a vehicle to borrow.

Uncle Fester reached inside his jacket. “This is the address my resources gave me,” he shared as he took out a map of San Francisco, where one location was circled in the woods, marked with a red X, not far from a secondary location marked with a black X. “The Grays live there,” he said, tapping the area in red. “And here-”

“The Sinclairs,” Wednesday interrupted with a curt nod, seizing the map. “Good work, Uncle Fester.”

“One of my contacts left a package at the edge of the woods,” Uncle Fester smiled as he stopped next to a jeep with a half-opened window. He stuck his arm inside to open the lock, giggling when the Rottweiler sitting on the passenger’s seat bit the sleeve of his coat. “That tickles.”

Uncle Fester opened the door and put the dog on the curb. He was about to shoo it away with a spark of his fingers when the fleabag ran off to either alert his master or get a taste of real freedom. “I didn’t even get to bite him back,” he complained as they got in. “Anyways,” he continued, grabbing the wires to start the car. “If you’re having a wolf problem, I can set up traps in the woods. Create a big bang during the next full moon that’ll blow them to pieces.”

Wednesday took a plastic bag out of her backpack and covered the length of the cushion to avoid getting hair on her clothes. It was bad enough that the inside of the jeep smelled like sticky lemonade, musky cologne, and wet dog, but Wednesday had no time to look for alternative transport.

“As much as I enjoy the image of one wolf in particular running into one of your bombs, I must decline,” Wednesday sighed, hating the fact she couldn’t physically harm Enid’s mother for Enid because of Enid. “But if you can find out what Esther Sinclair loves more than anything in the world, do let me know.”

Nothing said pain more than a broken heart, or so Wednesday had learned from observing others’ feeble emotions. Once she knew Esther’s greatest weakness, Wednesday would destroy it piece by piece, driving the dagger deeper until Enid’s mother went insane and begged for death’s cold and merciful embrace.

“Hmph,” Uncle Fester hummed while he drove. “Matters of the heart are tricky,” he said as he ran a red light, swerving to avoid a car headed straight for them, losing the mirror. “And I’m no more of an expert than you are, but if I had to guess, it might be a person. Maybe it’s her youngest kid, the weak little runt of the litter.”

“That’s impossible,” Wednesday replied, studying the map to ensure they were going in the right direction. “Her youngest is not weak, nor does she love her.”

If Esther Sinclair loved her daughter, she would accept Enid the way she was, whether she wolfed out or not. It was obvious Esther cared very little about Enid. From the moment Enid mentioned her mother, Wednesday sensed there was no bond between them. Enid could have died two nights ago, and none of her family members had reached out to ask her if she was okay. By now, the news of what went down at Nevermore had no doubt spread. And what did Enid’s mother do? She gave away her stuffed animals.

That woman did not deserve to have Enid under her roof, and if it were up to Wednesday, Esther Sinclair would never see her daughter again. Enid could stay with Wednesday and visit her grave long after she died, to annoy her as she always did, to keep Wednesday’s spirit on her toes.

“Ooh, a deer!” Uncle Fester exclaimed, speeding up as they neared the woods.

Wednesday’s body jerked forward when her uncle hit the deer, but she would rather risk going through the windshield than touch a seatbelt a dog chewed and slobbered on.

“Leave it,” Wednesday said when her uncle was about to reverse the jeep. “You can run over it again on our way back.”

“Alright,” Uncle Fester relented, continuing to drive forward. “But if it’s gone when we return, you owe me a body.”

“You can have Pugsley,” Wednesday offered, happy to sacrifice him to be slaughtered. “He’s been dead weight since the day he was born.”

Wednesday opened her backpack, taking out her gloves. She put them on and glanced at her watch, seeing that thirteen minutes had gone by since they left the airport. Wednesday stomped on her uncle’s foot, hitting the gas pedal harder until he quit driving like a normie afraid of getting a ticket. Why go forty miles over the speed limit when they could do eighty?

A minute later, they left the jeep in the ditch, next to the mile marker signaling they had arrived. One of the tires was on its last leg, and there was smoke coming from underneath the hood. Oh well, if Wednesday was going to break into someone’s home, she might as well steal their vehicle.

“So, what are we looking for?” Uncle Fester asked as they entered the woods. “Money? Family jewels? Antiques?” he guessed, smiling while he rubbed his hands together. “A grimoire on werewolves? Family journals containing their pack’s strengths, weaknesses, and secrets?”

Wednesday took out her compass and her torch, illuminating the path as she headed south. “Enid’s stuffed animals,” she answered, though the idea of getting her hands on a grimoire or journals of that kind was tempting.

While Wednesday had done her research on werewolves and other outcasts alike, she had never glimpsed upon a manuscript written by werewolves, passed down from one generation to the next. Wednesday wondered if Enid had some sort of guide, the way Wednesday had Goody’s book of shadows.  

“Ooh,” Uncle Fester said as his eyes lit up. “What kind of animals did she stuff?”

“I wasn’t referring to taxidermy,” Wednesday corrected, wishing she were. “Enid collects colorful soft toys.”

“To behead them with a guillotine?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Wednesday increased her pace, spotting their location not far ahead of where they were now. They had forty-two minutes left to retrieve Enid’s stuffed animals and return to the airport, which should suffice if they didn’t stall.

Uncle Fester picked up a pinecone and took a bite. “Crunchy,” he hummed, leaning down to grab another one, stuffing it in his pocket.

The Grays’ home was a wooden cabin, and when Wednesday went around the back, she saw a small light coming from a window. It turned out to be a nightlight, illuminating the room of a little girl soundly asleep with a tiny black kitten curled up at the foot of her bed, and a pink unicorn wrapped up in her arms.

Wednesday pulled her dagger out of her boot and used it to loosen the moldings around the window. With the help of her uncle, she got rid of the glass without the need to break it and alert the little runt’s parents. Wednesday climbed inside, slowly moving across the wooden floorboard to detect and avoid the creaky parts, sticking to the seams.

Uncle Fester loomed over the bed. “Do you need me to stun the kid?” he asked quietly as sparks danced between his fingertips, glancing back at Wednesday.

Wednesday stared at her uncle for even thinking about using electricity on a child who wasn’t old enough to tie her own shoes. One spark from his hands on an underdeveloped outcast could leave lasting damage, and Wednesday was not a monster hellbent on harming an innocent little runt. She did not kill outcasts or anyone else thus far, though there was one particular species she wanted to see extinct, even if she had to hunt down and kill each one personally.

“She’s four,” Wednesday pointed out, glancing at the kid Enid adored.

The adoration seemed mutual, from the looks of the pink and blue braid in the little girl’s blonde curls. It was heinously eerie, in an uncomfortable way, how this was precisely what Wednesday imagined Enid looked like as a tot.

Don’t wake up, Wednesday thought, not wanting to traumatize someone resembling Enid.

Uncle Fester backed away. “How about the parents?” he asked, tiptoeing toward a bunch of stuffed animals placed on shelves up on the wall. “Can I shock them if they walk in?”

“You may, but do keep them breathing,” Wednesday decided, turning away from the little girl. “My quarrel is not with this family.”

Wednesday grabbed the roll of trash bags from her backpack, tearing off two while she joined her uncle near the wall, handing him one.

“Not that one,” Wednesday whispered when her uncle was about to throw a little wolf plushie into his bag. “It’s not part of her collection.”

Uncle Fester frowned. “How can you tell?”

“It doesn’t smell like Enid,” Wednesday explained while she picked out the ones that did. “The fragrance is different.”

“Oh, okay,” Uncle Fester replied, putting the little wolf back, and Wednesday wondered if it was a gift from Enid to Isla. “What does Enid smell like?” Uncle Fester questioned, leaning closer to the shelf, sniffing the stuffed animals.

“There is no time to explain how lovely Enid smells when she’s not gassing herself with half a bottle of perfume,” Wednesday answered, surprised Enid hadn’t complained yet about the absence of her perfume, which Wednesday conveniently neglected to pack. “Keep going.”

Once there weren’t any more of Enid’s stuffed animals in the room, Wednesday only had one left to collect. With twenty-nine minutes remaining to get back to the airport, they had to move faster.

Uncle Fester picked up the kitten from the bed and opened his mouth.

“Put the kitty down,” Wednesday commanded with a low yet stern volume. “You cannot eat her pet.”

“Why do you care about this little girl?” Uncle Fester asked while he obeyed.

“I don’t,” Wednesday corrected, not caring in the slightest. “Enid does.”

“You must really like your friend to go through all of this trouble for her.”

“I do not like Enid,” Wednesday stated to get the facts right. “She is a walking disease,” she whispered, chucking the bags out of the window frame. “I can’t spend a day near her without my allergy pills.”

The past few days with Enid had made Wednesday dig into her reserves, so she didn’t itch all over when Enid initiated physical contact. And unlike what Enid believed, Wednesday had not touched Enid’s colorful clothes when she packed her suitcase. Not with her bare hands, anyway, although Wednesday did wonder if small doses of exposure therapy would reduce her allergic reaction over time. 

Uncle Fester scratched the back of his head. “Why do you spend your days with her when she makes you sick if you don’t like her?” he asked, full of annoying questions tonight. “Why not cut her loose and go after that scalper you’ve been meaning to catch?”

Wednesday did not recall seeking her uncle’s advice regarding how she chose to spend her time.

Ignoring her uncle pondering about things he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain, Wednesday placed her backpack on the bed. She took out a hideously fluffy stuffed animal she bought at the airport’s gift shop, having anticipated this scenario where the little girl was asleep, cuddling one of Enid’s plush toys.

Wednesday managed to make the trade without causing Isla to stir, and when she turned toward her backpack, she saw the kitten was trying to climb in. Sighing, Wednesday scooped the purring little thing up, staring while it tried to play with her thumb, scratching at her glove.

Wednesday put the kitten down and hissed at it when it tumbled off the bed and tried to follow her, not interested in housing another stray. The only kitty who was welcome by Wednesday’s side was Enid.

***  

It was 11 am when Wednesday climbed over the gate in broad daylight, after she had successfully thrown the bags over on her third attempt. Wednesday was not weak, but Enid had a large collection of stuffed animals, and Wednesday was working with an injured shoulder.

Wednesday ran as fast as she could, freezing when she spotted her mother standing beside the rope that led up to her room. But it was too late, with no darkness to slither into, her mother saw her.

“Wednesday!” her mother called out. “Where the hell have you been?” she asked, approaching in large strides. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

Wednesday could tell her mother she wasn’t thinking about her, but it would only put a strain on the tether barely holding them together as it was.

“When your father wakes from your little stunt with his wine, we will discuss your punishment. In the meantime, I demand an explanation.”

“I did it for Enid,” Wednesday confessed, dropping her trash bags full of evidence. “Her mother gave away the collection of stuffed animals she is nauseatingly fond of, and it broke her,” she explained, feeling her blood boil at the memory freshly imprinted in her mind. “And you can punish me all you want, but I do not regret this. No torture compares to the tears in Enid’s eyes when someone hurts her.”

“Oh, Wednesday,” her mother exhaled, resting her right hand on her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I would rather jump out of the plane without a parachute than spend the mother-daughter time you think we should have, where your only goal is to turn me into a copy of you, Wednesday thought bitterly.

“You’re right,” except you aren’t. “I should have told you” nothing.

Wednesday would never be her mother’s daughter beyond sharing blood. She would never have a heart-to-heart with her, never seek her advice, never team up with her, never introduce a romantic partner to her, and never provide her with grandchildren.

“You can be excused,” her mother deflated, unusually reasonable. “But this is your only pass,” she added, holding up her index finger. “For Enid.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Wednesday went inside, tripping her brother on the stairs as she walked past him. Alas, he only fell a couple of steps, with nothing but a lousy bloody nose to show for it.

“Good morning to you too, sis,” Pugsley grinned, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “What’s in those bags?”

“You will be if you don’t get out of my sight,” Wednesday deadpanned as she went further up the stairs.

Wednesday reached her room and slipped in silently, finding Enid still asleep where she had left her. Enid was smiling in her sleep, the way she always did when she had what she called a good dream before telling Wednesday all about it the next day. Enid’s smile was brighter than those nights when she dreamed of Ajax taking her on dates, and bored Wednesday with the details.

Perhaps Enid was dreaming about Yoko, the recipient of a heart emoji in Enid’s favorite color.

Wednesday ripped the trash bags open with her nails, pursing her lips as she piled the stuffed animals together next to Enid’s clothes. Once the colorful assault on Wednesday’s skin was sorted, she walked over to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and grabbed her allergy cream. She rubbed a thin layer on her hands, exhaling at the relief as her rash vanished.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday told Thing as he climbed onto her dresser. “You should leave now,” she requested, not wanting an audience when Enid awoke from her slumber.

Wednesday took two allergy pills, just in case surprising Enid resulted in a day full of clingy touches.

When Thing left, Wednesday kneeled beside her bed, watching the micro-expressions on Enid’s face shift, noticing the way a lock of her hair was caught on her eyelash. Wednesday hesitated for a moment to leave it be, but then Enid scrunched up her nose, so Wednesday reached out to fix it for her, to make Enid comfortable even if it made Wednesday a little queasy.

Time, however, ran out at that treacherous second.

Enid’s eyes fluttered open. “Jesus!” she gasped right when Wednesday’s fingers were about to make contact with Enid’s forehead.  

Wednesday withdrew her hand and cleared her throat. “I guess I don’t need to check for a pulse, seeing as you are awake,” she claimed while she moved to stand, straightening her back.

“You…you put something in my drink,” Enid blinked up at Wednesday, moving the blanket aside while she sat up. Enid’s eyes were wide and so blue, like the lake Wednesday nearly drowned in when she was little, until her mother pulled her out and forced her to cough up the water she had swallowed.

“Why would you…,” Enid stammered, brows creasing. “Why did you do that?”

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t try and stop me.”

“Oh, no,” Enid shook her head. “What did you do? Where did you go?”

“After putting you to sleep, I took a plane to San Francisco to retrieve your beloved collection,” Wednesday answered, gesturing at the colorful display in her room. “I did not go to your house, and no harm befell the Grays. And while I am aware you may not have wanted this, I can’t tolerate an entire summer of you crying over a fixable issue. Therefore, this had to be done, and—”

Wednesday faltered when Enid smiled at her, losing track of her thoughts.

Enid bit her lip, which only made it worse. “You stayed up all night?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ears where Wednesday knew it wouldn’t stay because it never did.

Wednesday shook her head. “I slept on the plane,” she answered, which was not part of her original plan, but it was a surprisingly wonderful flight. “The turbulence and the screams of terror were music to my ears,” she recalled fondly, wishing she could have recorded it to play on nights when she couldn’t sleep.

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Enid grimaced. “But I’m glad you slept well,” she added with a smile.

“I brought you a gift from my travels,” Wednesday shared while she retrieved a stuffed animal from her backpack. “For your collection,” she explained, holding it up by the white tag with care instructions to avoid unnecessary contamination.

“It’s…pink,” Enid stated, staring at the plush little monstrosity that was supposed to resemble an elephant.

“I’m aware,” Wednesday responded, dangling it closer until Enid took it from her.

Wednesday preferred the black bear or the striped zebra she saw at the gift shop, if she had to pick one at gunpoint, but Enid’s favorite color was pink.

“I love it,” Enid claimed, hugging the elephant to her chest before putting it with the rest of her stuffed animals. “I think I’ll name her Rosie or better yet, Elli, as in elephant.”

Wednesday would suggest aw as in awful, but at least Enid was happy and that was all that mattered.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” Enid stated, biting back a smile. “You’re the best,” she claimed, bouncing on her feet. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Enid reached out for a hug but stopped herself a few inches short of touching Wednesday, who was about to lean in to accept the contact. Instead, Enid wrapped her arms around herself.

“Go ahead,” Wednesday sighed, bracing for impact. “Hug me before I change my mind.”

Enid put her arms around Wednesday’s waist, soft and slow as though she doubted the offer was real. Wednesday returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Enid, feeling the little wolf’s warm cheek brush against her neck as Enid nuzzled her face there.

Wednesday stiffened when Enid’s hands caressed her back, moving in random patterns. It was new and strange, but then Wednesday felt the slight scrape of Enid’s nails, familiar and welcome as it added a sensation Wednesday appreciated. Unlike the hug, which was getting tighter with every passing second.

“E-Enid,” Wednesday wheezed, wincing at the firm pressure. “I…can’t…breathe.”

“Oh, I know,” Enid replied, squeezing a little bit harder. “And if you drug me again,” she whispered, her breath hot in Wednesday’s ear, “you really won’t be able to breathe.”

Wednesday’s chest constricted, and when Enid let go, Wednesday still couldn’t breathe quite right.

Chapter Text

Enid had expected an angry message from her mother by now, questioning why her stuffed animals went missing from Isla’s home the night after her mother told her she got rid of them, but she hadn’t received any texts or calls yet. Maybe Mrs. Gray and Mr. Gray hadn’t told anyone about the break-in because nothing else was taken, and they didn’t want to make a scene or admit they didn’t realize they had an intruder. Enid did feel kind of bad for Isla, who was probably very happy when she was gifted such a large collection of cuddly friends, and likely woke up sad when she saw they were gone.

Wednesday was insane for having gone all the way to San Francisco, entering the woods that housed the second-largest werewolf pack in their country, with numbers that grew every year because they wanted to be the biggest. It was a huge relief that Wednesday didn’t go during a full moon, but it was still extremely dangerous to face werewolves in their human form. Even the little ones, like Isla, who clawed out a boy’s left eye last summer because he was calling her names and was standing too close when she lashed out.

Enid’s stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought of the pack pouncing on her best friend. She still couldn’t believe the surprise that awaited her yesterday when she woke up, because it felt surreal. But it was real, and so was the surprise Wednesday presented to her this morning. Enid wished it was just a dream this time, but unfortunately, she was wide awake.

Where Monday morning had been sweet and really nice – minus the realization that she’d been drugged, which was just wrong and not to mention borderline criminal – this Tuesday morning was pretty much the opposite.

“Oh,” Enid clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while she looked at the sword and the white fencing gear next to her stuff in her little corner of Wednesday’s room. “Um,” Enid swallowed, moving the sheets aside. “Why do you want to fight me exactly?”

“I mean,” Enid added before her peculiar best friend could reply. “I know you dared me to, but why?”

“Relax, Enid, it is not a fight to the death,” Wednesday deflected when Enid just wanted a straight answer from Wednesday. “You have four days left to prepare.”

It was cute that Wednesday thought Enid was scared, and while she kind of was, she wasn’t worried that Wednesday would hurt her, but rather that she would lose control and defend herself with her claws in the heat of the moment. Wednesday was just so good at poking and pushing Enid into a state of pure frustration, and she hadn’t felt the same since she wolfed out. She could feel it in her bones, lingering like the moon was still with her.

“Four whole days?” Enid gasped, smiling as she got up. She stretched out her arms and craned her neck. “How generous,” she mocked, though not even four weeks would be enough to rival Wednesday’s fencing skills.

Enid had never even picked up a sword until she went to Nevermore, where she had to because it was a part of the school’s curriculum, and the nurse didn’t believe her when she skipped class a second time, claiming she had a migraine. It did get better after that because Yoko offered to spar with her, and Yoko was really patient with Enid while she learned the basics of fencing.

“Hold still,” Wednesday said suddenly, and that was the only warning Enid got before Wednesday was in her personal space.

Wednesday grasped Enid’s chin, and like a jolt of electricity, her brain caught up to the fact that Wednesday was right in front of her, touching her. Enid thought Wednesday was mad at first, but then her iron grip softened, her cool fingers lingering on Enid’s skin while urging her head sideways until she complied. From the corner of her eye, she saw Wednesday studying her like she was slowly undressing her, peeling away one layer at a time until she could see into Enid’s soul.

Intense gaze aside, it felt nice to feel Wednesday’s fingers on her skin. Enid ran so hot as a wolf that it felt soothing whenever Wednesday allowed physical contact, like getting ice cream on a warm summer day. Enid had no idea what Wednesday was doing or what she was looking for, but she didn’t mind Wednesday taking her time. And Enid wanted to tell Yoko how nice Wednesday’s fingers were, but then she would have to reveal that Wednesday had touched her and explain they had held hands before.

Yoko could keep a secret, though. She hadn’t told anyone the major secret Enid shared with her when they were roommates.

“It’s time to remove your stitches,” Wednesday announced while she dropped her hand, raising a brow when Enid whined at the sudden loss of contact. “I have to remove them, Enid,” Wednesday pressed, thankfully not a mind reader. “Otherwise, they’ll get infected, and your skin might grow over them.”

“Okay,” Enid sighed, plopping down on Wednesday’s bed.

Enid did look forward to getting rid of her stitches, but not the part where they had to be removed. She was not a fan of pain, and she didn’t want to have to bite down on something again. It hurt when she got those stitches, though Enid’s wounds had healed a lot since that night, so maybe it would hurt less this time around. Plus, Wednesday was nowhere near as cruel as most people believed she was. Scary exterior or not, Enid highly doubted Wednesday would harm her.

Wednesday settled on her bed next to Enid, holding a silver-colored tin box. The sight made her swallow, and it was silly because, logically, Enid knew it was just metal that looked like silver rather than actual silver. And the pair of scissors that Wednesday grabbed from the box wasn’t made out of silver either, but it still caused Enid to flinch.

“Sorry,” Enid mumbled, taking a deep breath. “It’s stupid, but I got hurt by silver once, and I know that’s not silver, but it looks like silver,” she explained while she tried to pull herself together.

Enid wrung her hands, feeling sweaty all of a sudden, and deep down she knew she had nothing to fear, but her brain wasn’t quite getting the message and kept prompting her to run. Silver was just really, really bad for wolves. Like, way worse than a vampire’s allergy to garlic. It burned like fire, and it could kill Enid if it came into contact with one of her vital organs.

“I was nine when it happened,” Enid shared, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth at the memory. “I was playing in the woods when I felt something prick my foot through my shoe. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt. It hurt so bad, and I screamed so loud, my dad came running. Turns out, it was a silver nail on a wooden plank, hidden beneath a pile of leaves. I never discovered who put it there, but we did have poachers that year, so it was probably them.”

The wound it left took weeks to heal, and it never went away entirely because Enid was stuck with a little round scar on the heel of her right foot. She hated that it happened in a place where she was supposed to be safe; hell, she hated that it happened at all, but at least it was very easy to cover up. And nobody outside of her family knew it was there. Enid never even told anyone about that day until now. Until Wednesday.

“Enid,” Wednesday said, extending her pinky. “I swear I shall never expose you to silver.”

Enid wrapped her pinky around Wednesday’s, smiling at the sweet, earnest gesture, which meant way more to Enid than she could say. She hoped Wednesday wasn’t grossed out by her clammy skin, but if she was, it was impossible to tell because Wednesday’s face was perfectly straight. Her grip was just as bruising as the first time they locked in a pinky promise, but Enid could handle Wednesday’s surprising strength.

Wednesday wriggled her finger free. “May I proceed?” she asked, and her continued kindness made Enid feel much better.

“Yes,” Enid exhaled, putting her hands in her lap. “I trust you.”

Wednesday’s dark eyes lingered for a couple of seconds like she wanted to say something, but then she adjusted her grip on the scissors and leaned in close. Her breath was warmer than Enid expected it to be as a puff of air touched her face, and if she had to take a guess as to why Wednesday was breathing so hard, Enid would say that Wednesday was most likely picturing herself flaying those poachers alive.

Enid wanted to move her head, but she should probably hold still, and she couldn’t see her cheek without a mirror anyway. There was a bit of tugging as Wednesday removed the stitches there, but it didn’t hurt. Her fingers were nimble and gentle, and so soothing every time her fingertips fluttered against Enid’s skin. Her neck, on the other hand, was more sensitive, but the pain was minimal. Wednesday didn’t rush, and she didn’t pull hard, and she paused for a moment after every stitch she undid, like she was checking if Enid was still okay.

“Wednesday, can I ask you something that might sound weird?” Enid questioned when Wednesday was done removing the last of her stitches.

Wednesday put the scissors back in the tin box. “I assume you’ll ask either way,” she replied, and she wasn’t wrong, but still.

“Well, then?” Wednesday prompted, turning so they were face-to-face. “What is it, Enid?”

“Could you…Would you…,” Enid trailed off, finding it hard to maintain eye contact right now. “Can you put your hand on my neck, just for a minute? It’s a bit sore, and the coldness of your skin really helps.”

Wednesday’s gaze dropped to Enid’s neck before meeting her eyes again. “Do you need me to fetch you an ice pack?” Wednesday offered while she swung her legs over the edge of her bed.

“No, no, ice packs are too cold,” Enid replied, which sounded silly for a wolf, but it was true. “I just need you.”

Enid considered pleading, but she didn’t want to force Wednesday into doing something she really didn’t want to. Physical contact wasn’t as natural as breathing for Wednesday, like it was for Enid, whose favorite love language was touch. Plus, Wednesday had done more than enough to make Enid happy and show how much their friendship mattered.

“I must admit,” Wednesday said while she reached out, “this is not how I pictured my hand on your neck.”

“You fantasized about touching me?” Enid smiled at Wednesday trying and failing to uphold her little psychopath act.

“You know that is not what I meant,” Wednesday said through gritted teeth. “Do not tempt me to demonstrate,” she warned, pressing her thumb lightly against Enid’s throat.

Enid shouldn’t be smiling right now, but it was nice to know she could get under Wednesday’s skin as easily as Wednesday got under hers. And strong grip or not, that little cutie was no match for Enid, even while she was in her human form. But Enid wasn’t looking for a playful fight because the risk of it turning into a real one was too high.

“How does my skin look?” Enid asked to shift the attention and diffuse the frustration her poking had caused.

“Pink,” Wednesday answered while her cool fingers traced a line down Enid’s cheek and neck. “But not the ugly kind,” Wednesday added, dropping her hand, and Enid guessed that minute was over by now.

“Do you really think my face would look perfect if the scar never went away?”

“Always,” Wednesday exhaled, and the way she breathed that single word like a promise, with unwavering confidence and earnest eyes, made Enid’s heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” Enid nodded, smiling at her BFF, which was a title that Wednesday had earned by now. “But if nobody wants me like this, I’m staying with you,” Enid joked, getting up so she could pick out an outfit and maybe try on one of her new clothes, now that they were washed and dried.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Enid,” Wednesday huffed incredulously behind her. “What kind of kidnapper would I be if I let my hostage go?”

Enid was not prepared for the sight that greeted her when she turned around, because not only was Wednesday kidding along with her, Wednesday was smiling. And it was beautiful and adorable because dimples. Wednesday Addams had dimples in her cheeks when she smiled!

“I love your smile,” Enid blurted out, grimacing when her enthusiasm promptly made said smile disappear.

Wednesday blinked. “I was smiling?”

“You were,” Enid nodded. “Hand to the moon, you were,” she swore, surprised that Wednesday didn’t realize she was smiling when she was so freakishly good at controlling her facial expressions.

“Curious,” Wednesday hummed while she moved to stand. “Stockholm syndrome is generally reserved for the victim, not the captor.”

Enid rolled her eyes at the remark, knowing that Wednesday was just being Wednesday, thinking how it didn’t take away the fact that she smiled. Yoko and Divina were not going to believe Enid when she told them, and unfortunately, she had no evidence other than swearing it wasn’t a hallucination or a dream.

“Do you need a hand with your stitches?” Enid offered, guessing that Wednesday was hiding her wound from her parents because Enid hadn’t heard her mention it once, and she always kept it covered up. “I mean, I have like literally zero experience, but I’m sure you could tell me what to do.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Wednesday replied, lifting her chin ever so slightly. “I’ll rip mine out next week.”

“O-kay,” Enid blinked, and she hoped Wednesday wouldn’t actually pull hers out so violently, but Enid wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

***   

While Wednesday requested some alone time to write and practice her cello without an audience, Enid decided to uphold the promise she made Thing two days ago. But first, Enid wanted to say hi to Nyx and Erebus, just for five minutes, because they were probably sleeping anyway or getting ready to take a nap.

Enid opened the door to the Moonlit Manor, feeling around for the light until she found the switch. She spotted Nyx in the tree, hanging upside down on a little swing attached to one of the branches. Nyx’s beady black eyes stared at Enid while her tiny hands grabbed the air.

“Hold on, little cutiepie,” Enid called out, smiling as she made her way over to the tree. “Here you go,” she said, holding her right hand out near the swing.

Nyx accepted the invitation immediately, climbing onto Enid’s open palm. The longer she stayed with Wednesday, the more Enid realized why Wednesday chose such cute little pets rather than a Python or an alligator, like Pugsley had.

“I missed you too, sweet girl,” Enid cooed, stroking the top of Nyx’s head. “Now, where is—”

Enid laughed when Erebus glided toward her, landing in her hair, which he seemed to like doing.

“My hair is not a nest, buddy,” Enid sighed softly, reaching for the clumsy little creature, whose eyesight didn’t seem all that well.

Erebus chirped, clinging to Enid’s hand like he was telling her not to put him down, and she wasn’t planning to just yet. Enid couldn’t stay too long either, though, considering her promise to Thing was already more than a day overdue. Plus, the adorable pair needed a lot of sleep during the day, so Enid shouldn’t keep them up much longer.

“You two are so cute, like your mother,” Enid whispered, smiling at the fact that Wednesday had called herself Erebus and Nyx’s mother. “She’d kill me if she heard me calling her cute, but you two can keep a secret, right?”

Wednesday really was a cutie, even more so now that Enid knew what she looked like with a smile on her face. She hoped to see Wednesday smile more often, preferably every day, but considering the fact that she hinted at it being accidental made it unlikely that she would smile again soon. Nonetheless, Enid did make her smile once, so there was hope she could do it again. Because it had to have been Enid’s doing.

Enid kept replaying that moment in her head, over and over, frame by frame. She thought about how she had joked about staying with Wednesday if nobody wanted her because of her scars, and how she had assumed that would have been the end of their conversation. But then Wednesday teased her about how she wouldn’t let her go, calling herself Enid’s captor. And just like that, the smile™ happened.

So, in conclusion, Enid knew two things for sure. Number one, Wednesday smiled because of her. And number two, Wednesday Addams was definitely the prettiest girl at Nevermore.

“I have to go now,” Enid told Wednesday’s furbabies. “I’m sorry, guys,” Enid apologized as she put Nyx and Erebus back in their tree. “But I’ll visit again soon, okay?”

Enid turned off the light on her way out. The drop in temperature when she stepped out into the hall made her shiver for a second before she adjusted, and she wondered if the Addams family had some kind of air conditioning system blowing cold wind into their house because it was summer, after all, so it was supposed to be warm. But they didn’t have any windows that actually let the sunlight in, and maybe the walls were isolated really well.

“Two lefts and a right,” Enid mumbled to herself while she recalled the directions Wednesday gave her. “Second door behind the statue,” Enid continued, passing by a statue of the grim reaper holding a scythe, shrieking when a spider climbed out of one of its hollow eyes.

It wasn’t a tiny spider either, and oh, God, Enid really wasn’t a fan of creepy crawlers.

“Nice, not so itsy bitsy spider,” Enid shivered as she walked in a bow around the statue. “Please don’t be one of those jumping spiders,” she whispered, exhaling when the spider crawled into the grim reaper’s other eye.

Enid knocked on Thing’s door and waited, glancing at the statue just in case the spider came back. Thankfully, the door creaked open, and when Enid rushed inside, she saw Thing’s fingers wrapped around the handle.

“Hi, Thing,” Enid waved. “How’s it hanging?”

Thing let go of the handle, dropping onto the floor. He shrugged and pushed his door shut.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by sooner,” Enid apologized, chewing her lip because she should have visited Thing yesterday. “Will you forgive me if I give you a proper manicure and let you use my favorite nail polish?”

“Forgive what?” Thing signed, followed by a thumbs-up.

“You’re the best,” Enid smiled, happy that he wasn’t mad at her.

Enid looked up, gasping quietly when she saw a little runway complete with a red carpet and spotlights, leading up to a mirror attached to the wall. Right next to the carpet was a jewelry box filled with rings, from plain ones to very sparkly ones with diamonds, and rings that shone like only real silver did. Thing also had a chest full of gloves, most of them fingerless and black, and a collection of Victorian-esque wrist cuffs he probably strutted around in on his personal little catwalk. 

“OMG, Thing!” Enid exclaimed, taking in the arrangement of colorful pillows on Thing’s bed, which was almost as big as Wednesday’s bed, but still bigger than the one Enid had at home. “I love your room!”

“More than Wednesday’s?”

“Yes, more than hers,” Enid confirmed, although Wednesday’s room did come with a great roomie.

“But she did put my stuffed animals in her room, so it might be a tie,” Enid reconsidered, and the black theme suited Wednesday, who abhorred color so much she acted like she was actually allergic to anything that wasn’t black or white.

“You can put them in my room.”

“Aww, Thing, I like being roommates with you, too,” Enid smiled brightly at the offer. “But I pinky promised Wednesday to be hers.”

Thing shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Enid settled on Thing’s bed while Thing gathered his supplies from a drawer filled with nail polishes and creams that put Enid’s collection to shame. Thing had every color of the rainbow, including one bottle of nail polish that actually looked like a rainbow. It was so pretty, Enid couldn’t wait to get her nails done.

“My birthday is coming up next Wednesday,” Enid shared while she put nail polish remover on a cotton pad, and she had tried not to think about it, but with it only being eight days away, it was hard not to.

“My parents don’t really celebrate my birthdays,” Enid explained, in case Thing wondered why she wasn’t itching to go home. “But I’ll probably get a text from them, and my dad might put some money on my card.”

Turning seventeen wasn’t a big deal anyway, and Enid’s sweet sixteen wasn’t a total bust either because she had celebrated it with Isla, and Isla’s mother had baked a cake with lots of frosting while Isla’s father put up balloons and decorations everywhere. Sometimes, Enid wished she had been born into their family instead of hers, so she could have a mother who loved her, and a sibling she’d actually like.

Isla’s parents were hip and young, and considered a bit controversial because their bloodline wasn’t all werewolves, which was a big no for their species. But because their blood wasn’t polluted, as Enid’s parents called werewolves who mated with non-werewolves, Mr. and Mrs. Gray were accepted into the pack. Enid didn’t know the story, but according to rumors she had heard, Isla’s aunt – and Mrs. Gray’s sister – married a siren.

Land and water shouldn’t mix, but Enid didn’t see why they couldn’t as long as they were happy.

***   

Wednesday stared when Enid exited the bathroom, ready to get comfortable under the sheets, only to falter mid-way there because Wednesday’s eyes kept following her, like one of those paintings on the wall at a museum that couldn’t move but looked like they did.

“Um…,” Enid said while she stopped. “Is something wrong?”

Wednesday’s gaze traveled down, and then slowly back up. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s a babydoll,” Enid answered, glancing down at the pajamas she got on their shopping trip because it looked cute and pretty, even though it had zero color or fun patterns. “White is allowed in your bed, right?”

If it wasn’t, for whatever reason Wednesday decided to give, Enid could totally get changed into one of the black things she picked out. Like the silk top with the shorts that was almost as smooth as Wednesday’s nightgown, or that lacy dress that was kind of see-through but only exposed a portion of her stomach.

“The color is fine,” Wednesday declared, which sounded promising, and yet Enid felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop or hit her in the face. “But why must you sleep in lingerie?” Wednesday asked, and there that darn second shoe was.

Wait, what? What did Wednesday say? What did she call Enid’s pajamas?

“Wha—” Enid spluttered, feeling her face getting hot because babydolls weren’t some kind of sexy underwear. “This is not lingerie,” she shook her head, eyes wide. “It’s not,” she insisted, though she wasn’t so sure anymore because what if it was?

Enid swallowed. “Is it?” she questioned while she struggled to remember which section she found it in exactly, although she could have sworn it was very close to other dresses specifically intended to wear to bed.  

“You have a cellular device, Enid,” Wednesday deadpanned, turning on her heel. “Look it up.”

“Oh, God,” Enid groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Kill me now.”

“I prefer you alive,” Wednesday replied, turning back to look at Enid.

That was a lovely sentiment, and it was good to know, because if Enid was about to die from embarrassment, then Wednesday could resuscitate her.

“Okay, well…,” Enid said as she decided to accept her little outfit mishap. “Lingerie or not, I like it,” she stated honestly and without shame this time because while it was unintentional, nobody else would see it anyway. “And it’s just us girls in here,” she told Wednesday, who could wear lingerie too if she wanted, because Enid wouldn’t mind.

“So, if it bothers you…,” Enid continued when she was met with silence. “Then you’ll just have to lend me one of your nightgowns again,” she stated with a shrug and a smile. “Permanently,” she added, mentally crossing her fingers that she could get her hands on one sometime this summer.

“I see,” Wednesday pursed her lips for a second. “This is a mere ploy to steal my belongings.”

“It didn’t start out that way, but yes,” Enid nodded, guilty as charged.

“While I can’t deny preferring my wardrobe over yours, I do not condone people raiding my closet,” Wednesday said so seriously it was kind of adorable watching her puff out her chest a little, like she was trying to make herself seem tougher. As if she could ever hide what a softie she was underneath her scary goth appearance. “It lacks originality, and you are far too unique to submit to such subpar behavior.”

Enid sensed a compliment in there, but if she pointed it out, Wednesday would only deny that she gave her one or claim she was stating a fact. Wednesday did make a good point because Enid wouldn’t want anyone to copy her either, but if Wednesday ever wanted to borrow something of hers, Enid would loan it to her in a heartbeat.

“I guess it’s settled then,” Enid declared as she walked toward her roomie’s bed. “Good night, Wednesday.”

“You played me,” Wednesday said while she approached the other side of her bed. “What a sly little wolf you are.”

Enid’s jaw dropped before she composed herself. “What did you call me?” she asked, though she didn’t need Wednesday to repeat herself to know the answer.

“You heard me,” Wednesday claimed with a cheeky smirk, and oh, God, seeing her smirk was just as cute as seeing her smile. “Night, Enid,” Wednesday exhaled while she climbed into bed.

“Night, cutie,” Enid replied as she got under the sheets.

Wednesday lifted her head above the pillows. “What did you say?” she grumbled, probably contemplating which pillow to smack Enid with first.

Enid propped herself up on her elbow and smiled. “You heard me.”

Chapter Text

“Wednesday, darling,” her mother called out when they passed one another in the hallway. “Have you seen my silverware?”

“I have,” Wednesday answered with a curt nod, though she didn’t need her mother’s judging glance to know that those two words wouldn’t be enough to terminate her search. “It’s in the dungeon along with everything else crafted from silver,” Wednesday revealed, quite favoring storing it there for the foreseeable future, if not perpetually.

Wednesday made a vow yesterday to never expose Enid to silver, utilizing Enid’s weak version of a sacred oath. Nonetheless, sworn in blood or not, Wednesday intended to keep her word, and therefore couldn’t tolerate silver under their roof as long as Enid was with them. So, Wednesday took her mother’s cups, platters, knives, forks, and spoons, as well as Thing’s assortment of silver rings, her father’s collection of watches, Pugsley’s coins, and various candlesticks and photo frames. 

Her mother frowned, and if her mother hadn’t been so absorbed in her morning activities with her father, she would have noticed it wasn’t only her silverware that had disappeared. “You woke up at the break of dawn to throw all of our silver in the dungeon?” she asked, voice dripping with the disapproval Wednesday had heard since her mother discovered that she was a raven.

If she were a dove like her mother, perhaps things would have been different between them. But Wednesday couldn’t change who she was any more than her mother could, whose will she would never bend to. And disappointment or not, Wednesday needed her psychic abilities as a raven to protect her family from danger and keep them from dying. Sometimes, she wished she would care less, so she could forge her own path, without looking back. Alas, Wednesday was not strong enough to sever ties with her family. On the contrary, she feared her mother would cast her out, leading her to spend her life alone, as Goody had told Wednesday she would be.

The path of a raven is a solitary one, Goody had spoken like it was written in stone.

The foresight of solitude should have made Wednesday happy, but it didn’t. She hated that she yearned for company, to face her foes with allies by her side.

“Wednesday?” her mother prompted, and Wednesday detected no disgruntled tone in her voice this time.

“I overslept,” Wednesday responded, which was unfortunate considering she had hoped to avoid running into her family. Particularly her mother. “But yes, I did. In honor of an oath I swore to Enid, who, mind you, is a werewolf,” she explained, straightening her back to stand taller. “And you know as well as I do that in our family, our word is as binding as a legal contract.”

Her mother exhaled audibly. “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” she commented with a strange twinkle in her eyes, and a sense of warmth she didn’t have. At least, not for Wednesday. Not for a raven.

Wednesday knew where she stood with her mother. Preferably at least two feet apart, with their backs turned to one another.

“Enid saved my life, for reasons I may never fully grasp,” Wednesday said, so regarding that, her mother was not wrong that she had grown to care for the very roommate she could not stand when they first met.

Enid put her life on the line to save Wednesday and nearly died as a result of her decision. It was as though Enid wanted to trade Wednesday’s life for hers, to take her place on death’s doorstep, even though Wednesday had failed to be the friend Enid deserved. Wednesday didn’t know what drove Enid to save her, but she was grateful and ready to spend the remainder of her life protecting Enid.

“I would burn all of the silver in the world for her,” Wednesday declared, and if she found out who those poachers were, she would burn them, too.

Her mother smiled at her, which was most unsettling. “I’ll have Lurch dispose of our silver at once,” her mother announced, rather than demanding Wednesday to put it back, regardless of her promise.

“You will?” Wednesday responded, relaxing her shoulders a tad now that there was no verbal fight to brace for. “Why?” she questioned, wondering if her mother had a fever that had made her delirious.

Her mother reached out in the empty space between them, brushing her hand in the air near Wednesday’s cheek. She moved her eyes to watch her mother’s fingertips, which were close to making contact with her skin, but didn’t. It was an odd gesture, and while it wasn’t an unfamiliar one, it was usually Wednesday’s arm her mother almost touched.

“You are my daughter,” her mother whispered with a teary smile.

Wednesday’s ribs ached uncomfortably, though she couldn’t fathom what had wounded her.

“Come join your father and me for breakfast in an hour,” her mother requested while she lowered her arm to her side. “I’ll have a quad over ice waiting for you, and a venti furraccino with two pumps of chocolate, one pump of strawberry, and an extra pump of steak sauce for Enid.”

It was news to Wednesday that her mother knew Enid’s favorite drink, although her mother had been rather curious when it came to Enid, asking her a series of questions, such as what drew her to Nevermore. The answer? Enid’s parents, who went to Nevermore and graduated a year before Wednesday’s parents enrolled there.

“Mother,” Wednesday said before her mother resumed her stroll. 

“Yes, my little raven?”

Wednesday’s eyes hardened at the nickname, which served as a mockery for their differences and the divide it had created between them. Her mother might as well outright call her ‘my little failure’ instead, for it would be no less cruel than reminding her that she was a raven when her mother wanted a dove.

“How goes the search for an interior designer?” Wednesday questioned, awaiting the opportunity to reclaim the other half of her room before Enid’s colorful items tainted it further. “Has father contacted one?”

“It has been a fruitless endeavor so far, but we caught wind of one in Zurich, who might have the portfolio to match Enid’s taste.”

“Fine, I suppose I can suffer a little longer,” Wednesday responded, used to a life filled with torment.

With those parting words, Wednesday continued to roam the hallways, to check on Erebus and Nyx before returning to her room to see if Enid had woken from the dream that caused her to mumble incoherently in her sleep. The only words that Wednesday did understand from her roommate, afflicted with a severe case of sleeptalking rather than sleepwalking, were cute, soft, and pretty.

Wednesday had half-expected to hear Enid say Yoko’s name, and she would have taped Enid’s mouth shut if she had. If Enid continued whispering nonsense in her sleep every night, however, Wednesday would have no choice but to resort to any means necessary to keep her quiet.

When Wednesday entered the Moonlit Manor, neither Nyx nor Erebus was anywhere to be found. Wednesday’s parents knew better than to remove them from their room, and not even Pugsley would be stupid enough to try that again after Wednesday threatened to put his alligator on the menu, which left only one possible culprit.

Wednesday marched toward her room, but when she opened her door, she refrained from voicing her discontent. Enid sat on the floor at the foot of Wednesday’s bed, clad in a black shirt with an orange cat on the front, along with the words ‘I’m feline fine’, over a pair of black leggings that revealed how fit her legs were. Not that Wednesday hadn’t noticed before, given Enid’s choice of sleeping attire last night, which provided ample view of her muscular calves and thighs.

Erebus and Nyx were tucked under the collar of the ridiculous t-shirt, with their little heads poking out and resting against Enid’s collarbones. Wednesday tiptoed closer until Enid flashed her a smile as their eyes met.

“Morning, roomie,” Enid whispered, patting the space next to her. “I’m keeping them warm,” she said quietly, glancing down at Nyx and Erebus, who no doubt enjoyed the little wolf’s constant heat.

“Morning, Enid,” Wednesday exhaled, crouching down in front of Enid, whose surprising outfits as of recently weren’t all that terrible, minus the pun.

“I woke up and went to say hi, but they kind of fell asleep and they looked too comfortable to move,” Enid explained silently, blinking every few seconds, likely due to the lock of hair that kept getting caught in one of her eyelashes. “And I wanted to be here when you came back from whatever you snuck out to do, so I figured it would be okay. Because I’m hot. I run hot, I mean.”

Wednesday knew what Enid meant, remembering all too well what it felt like to be enveloped in Enid’s warmth.

Enid chewed her lip for a moment. “You must have woken up really early,” she commented, though it wasn’t as early as Wednesday had preferred. “I did not grind my canines in my sleep again, did I?” Enid asked, reminding Wednesday of a nuisance she once pointed out to pretend she didn’t care that Enid went to sleep in Yoko’s room.

“You did not,” Wednesday answered, deciding to keep Enid talking in her sleep to herself for now.

Wednesday reached out to caress the top of Nyx’s head, realizing too late where her hand was until she accidentally brushed her finger against Enid’s collarbone, who shivered at the contact.

“That was inappropriate of me,” Wednesday said as she pulled her hand away. “I apologize.”

“It’s okay, I really don’t mind,” Enid whispered, smiling in that way that did wicked things to Wednesday’s stomach, beyond succumbing to the flu. “You just caught me off guard there, Wednesday.”

“Why are you whispering?” Wednesday wondered out loud.

“I don’t want to wake our furbabies.”

Wednesday stared as the answer registered. “Our what?”

“Uh, yours. I meant yours,” Enid spluttered, grimacing for a second. “But maybe we can kind of co-parent them while I’m here?”

“You want to co-parent my chil—my pets, who, for your information, are not furbabies,” Wednesday responded, appalled by her beautiful sugar gliders being called a word werewolves might use to refer to their flea-riddled offspring.

“Please?” Enid whispered, batting her eyes. “We’d be great partners, like Thelma and Louise.”

Wednesday was not familiar with the reference, which was irrelevant either way, as was Enid’s poor attempt at begging. Erebus and Nyx were not furs, and they weren’t Enid’s children. Wednesday could tolerate sharing her room for a while, but she drew the line at her pets.

Nyx should have bitten Enid.

***   

The next morning, Wednesday went outside after a refreshing cup of coffee to practice her aim before the sun reached its peak on this dreadful summer day. She put her black leather briefcase on the ground and clicked it open to look at the small set of her sharpest knives. This collection of six was a gift which Wednesday received from her Uncle Fester, after she successfully disarmed him in a blindfolded sword fight three winters ago.

Each dagger was passed down from one Addams to another, and Wednesday was convinced that the one with the initials G.A. carved into the hilt belonged to Goody. At first, Wednesday had assumed it was her father’s, but he had told her it wasn’t when she inquired about the dagger with the jagged edges and curved tip. The raven’s head at the bottom of the handle should have given away its owner immediately, though Wednesday hadn’t heard of Goody until she met her in a vision.

“Focus,” Wednesday said to herself when she felt her eyes sting.

There was no point in wallowing over a lost spirit or the fact that there may not be another to guide her. Wednesday did not need help, although some guidance would be preferable to master her abilities. But Goody was gone, and it was Wednesday’s fault for turning her back on Thornhill to check on Weems.

Wednesday grabbed one of her daggers and flung it at the target Lurch set up for her. The blade lodged itself in the heart of the dummy, and while it was a decent throw, it wasn’t as satisfying as a live target. Unfortunately, her parents prohibited her from using her brother as a target after he lost a toe. It was an accident, of course. Wednesday had aimed for Pugsley’s foot, but he moved to catch a butterfly.

Wednesday clutched a dagger between her teeth, ducked and rolled, before jumping back up on her feet and aiming for her target’s head. The blade whooshed as it zipped through the air, piercing itself between the dummy’s eyes, which was fine, but still unsatisfactory without blood and someone screaming.

The snapping sound of fingers told Wednesday she was no longer alone.

Thing snapped his fingers twice more, tapping the ground when Wednesday looked at him.

Wednesday grabbed another dagger from her briefcase, tossed it in the air, and caught it by the blade. She considered throwing it at Thing for interrupting her training session, but after nearly losing him to a knife wound, Wednesday chose to spare him, for now.

“What?” Wednesday bit out, and this better be important, considering how sparse her alone time had been since she brought Enid home with her.

Thing moved his fingers as fast as he could. “Enid’s birthday is next week,” he revealed, which did not sound as urgent of a matter as he made it seem.

Then again, Enid had shown a particular fondness for celebrating the day people were forced onto this plane of existence, as was evident by her subterfuge when she lured Wednesday out into the woods and sprung a surprise party on her in Crackstone’s crypt. The location was acceptable for social gatherings, but two-thirds of the company – commonly known as Yoko, Divina, Kent, and Ajax or nuisance number one through four – weren’t.

And Wednesday had made it excruciatingly clear to Thing that the only day to warrant a party would be her funeral, unless he wanted his to happen sooner. Wednesday’s mind hadn’t changed, and while she would rather put her dagger through her skull than acknowledge someone’s birthday as though it were a joyous occasion warranting presents and hideously saccharine creations, Wednesday could consider making an exception.

“When?” Wednesday asked, balancing the hilt of her dagger on one finger.

“Wednesday.”

Wednesday nodded as she counted. “Six days,” she concluded, and she had no idea Enid’s birthday was on the 28^th of June, though Wednesday had never bothered to ask.

Enid hadn’t told her – Wednesday would have remembered if she had, along with every other detail of Enid’s life the little wolf bored her with. It struck Wednesday as odd that she hadn’t, insinuating that perhaps Enid was not keen on celebrating her seventeen years on Earth after all. But Enid must have mentioned it to Thing, who deemed it important enough to share.

“She said her parents don’t celebrate her birthday,” Thing divulged, which was not surprising considering their continued failure as her legal guardians. “I asked her if they ever had, and all she did was sob.”

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife. “You made Enid cry?” she replied as she approached Thing, who tripped trying to move away from her.

“Not on purpose,” Thing signed with a newfound speed as if his life depended on it, but the hatred spreading through Wednesday’s veins wasn’t aimed at him.

“Get out of my sight, before you lose a finger,” Wednesday warned, thinking of starting with his ring finger. “This is my private practice time.”

Thing ran off, leaving Wednesday alone with the new information that made her imagine her target was Esther Sinclair, along with that spineless coward of a husband of hers, who was equally guilty for letting Enid down. Wednesday wanted to kill Enid’s parents, but first, Wednesday had to dispose of the only monster worse than Esther and Murray Sinclair.

Wednesday had thought it over and decided that captivity wasn’t enough to keep Enid safe. Tyler Galpin had to die, so he could rot in the ground instead, in an unmarked grave.

“Good morning!” Enid called out just when Wednesday threw her dagger.

Wednesday’s jaw tensed when she missed the dummy entirely, tasting the bitter defeat of being observed failing a skill she had nearly mastered.

Enid chuckled, warm and carefree. “Nice aim,” she teased, standing there smiling.

Wednesday reached for another dagger. “You may want to stand very still,” she warned as she calculated her aim.

The blade zipped past Enid’s head, moving a few strands of her hair as it almost nicked her ear.

“Are you insane!?” Enid shrieked, tucking her hair back behind her ear when a hairclip would be much more efficient in securing it there. “You could have hit me!”

“Question my aim again, and I might,” Wednesday deadpanned, though she would never hurt her friend.

“Okay, that’s it,” Enid nodded while her claws extended. “You may want to run.”

Wednesday remained in place, eyes widening as Enid ran toward her with an enthralling determination. Before Wednesday had the chance to decide what her next move would be, Enid tackled her to the ground, cradling the back of Wednesday’s head in her hand.

Enid’s smile was more blinding than the sun as she looked down at Wednesday. “Any last words?” Enid asked, holding her other hand up in the air, claws drawn.

Kill me before that smile of yours does, little wolf, Wednesday thought as it burned right through her.

“Never underestimate your opponent,” Wednesday answered at last when she retrieved the knife she kept on her person, poking Enid’s side with the hilt.

“Hey,” Enid squirmed, letting out a giggle. “That tickles.”

“Does it now?” Wednesday responded, poking Enid’s other side.

“Oh, I am so gonna get you one of these days.”

***   

Wednesday stood in front of her sink, staring at her bathroom mirror until the sight of Enid combing her hair over and over grew too irritating to ignore. Wednesday shifted her gaze and glanced at Enid’s soft locks, which refused to stay behind her ears, though not for a lack of trying on her part.

Enid wasn’t wearing lingerie tonight, Wednesday noted as she sized up her roommate. Instead, Enid had chosen to wear a black top that stopped a few inches above her black pajama shorts, although Wednesday would argue that it hardly qualified as proper sleeping attire. Perhaps it was a wolf thing, considering how hot Enid was all the time.

“Here,” Wednesday offered as she held out four hairpins for Enid to take and keep.

Enid turned until they faced one another, frowning as she looked down at Wednesday’s palm. “What are these?” Enid asked while her warm fingers picked up the black hairpins one by one, lingering a split second longer with the last one.

“Hairpins, to keep that unruly hair of yours in place.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, blinking. “Thanks, I guess.”

Wednesday arched a brow when Enid managed to put them in her hair all wrong. Not one of them was straight, and that simply wouldn’t do. Wednesday couldn’t let Enid walk out of her bathroom with her hairpins placed unevenly.

“Come here,” Wednesday demanded with a sigh.

Enid turned again. “Hm?” she hummed, frowning as she put her brush on the black marble sink.

“Come here,” Wednesday repeated to the hard-of-hearing little wolf. “You need a hand.”

Enid blinked, mouth slightly agape for a second before she closed it. “With my hair?” she questioned, as though that wasn’t obvious by now. “You want to give me a hand…with my hair?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, inwardly recoiling while she reached for Enid’s pink bedazzled hairbrush.

“OMG, you’re serious!” Enid squealed, stepping into Wednesday’s space. “Yoko is not going to believe this,” Enid exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.

Wednesday glared at the mention of her nemesis. “Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I will have your tongue,” she spat quietly, watching as Enid swallowed like a nice, obedient little wolf.

“So, um…,” Enid trailed off while her eyes flitted around the bathroom. “Should I sit on my knees or the edge of your tub or…?”

While Wednesday wasn’t opposed to the idea of Enid on her knees, such a position would require Wednesday to bend down as well.

“Don’t move,” Wednesday requested as she leaned onto her toes to make herself slightly taller, so they could be at eye level. “Enid,” she bit out. “I said, don’t move.”

“I’m not moving,” Enid huffed, breathing hot air onto Wednesday’s face as she did. Heat aside, the minty scent of Enid’s toothpaste was not unpleasant. “I’m just smiling.”

Wednesday took the hairpins out of Enid’s hair and combed it for her with that heinous brush. Despite her allergy pills, Wednesday’s skin itched at coming into direct contact with the pink color. She was fine for now, though she would have to apply her cream before going to bed to avoid her skin breaking out into hives.

Brushing hair that wasn’t her own was strange and new, and borderline uncomfortable, but Wednesday had brought this upon herself and wasn’t planning on stopping what she started. She noticed Enid purring quietly, which Wednesday had never heard Enid do when combing her own hair. Such a curious little wolf.

Wednesday made two crosses with her hairpins, one on the right and the other on the left, spaced out evenly. It was quite the improvement, and at last, it would cease Enid’s need to run her fingers through her hair.

“It’s different, but I kind of like it,” Enid declared while she turned her head from left to right in front of the mirror. “Too bad you’ll have to do this again tomorrow, though. Because I can’t sleep with pins in my hair. They won’t stay in place anyway,” she explained, which sounded valid for someone incapable of staying still for more than half a minute. “But I’m totally open to making it up to you and combing your hair for you.”

Wednesday threw the pink brush in the hamper with Enid’s laundry, wishing to discard it in the trash instead.

“Wha—hey!” Enid objected, moving to retrieve her hives-inducing object. “Don’t use my hairbrush to prove your perfect aim.”

“The last person who touched my hair lost the ability to touch anything ever again,” Wednesday stated matter-of-factly, remembering the foolish cheerleader who pulled her hair and would never hold another pompom.

“Stay away from the braids,” Enid nodded, rolling her lips into her mouth. “Got it.”

“You need a new brush,” Wednesday announced, willing to pay for one.

Enid rolled her eyes. “You can’t turn everything black, Wednesday.”

“White it is,” Wednesday noted, and she wasn’t kidding.

If Enid wanted her to comb her hair every day, Wednesday needed a brush for Enid that wouldn’t cause her allergy to flare up. Wednesday’s supply of pills and cream wasn’t endless, and she did not want to explain to her mother why she was running out of both as fast as she was. Black, white, and grey were the only acceptable options to continue giving Enid a hand, who could keep the horrific pink one for personal use.

“Don’t make me use my claws,” Enid warned, holding up her hands while her claws appeared.

Wednesday stepped closer and stared at the little wolf’s claws, tempted to touch them.

“Ugh,” Enid groaned, retracting her claws. “Why do you look like…like…,” she bit her lip and shook her head.

“Like?” Wednesday pressed, meeting Enid’s eyes.

“Like you’re turned on.”

Turned on?

Chapter Text

Yesterday was all fun and games, but today, Enid had to be serious because her fight with Wednesday was happening tomorrow, and Enid was seriously underprepared. Fencing just wasn’t her cup of tea, but she didn’t want to let Wednesday down, who enjoyed a decent sparring match. Enid wasn’t expecting to score any points tomorrow, but that didn’t mean she had to give up and hand the win to Wednesday either.

Enid was a wolf, for crying out loud, which ironically was also kind of the problem. Her claws were way too dangerous to use in a friendly fight, and Wednesday had looked scarily interested in them the other day, like she wanted to find out how easily they could prick through her skin and have some weird, violent itch of hers scratched.

“Huh,” Enid whispered when she put on the fencing suit and realized it was a perfect fit. “Wednesday must have remembered my size,” she mumbled to herself as the fabric hugged her snuggly without being too tight.

Enid picked up her sword and headed outside. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that would usually lead her to the beach, where she loved to build sand castles and dip her toes into the water while basking in the sun. Enid missed that, and she missed trying to teach Isla how to surf while getting knocked down by waves together. But Enid wasn’t unhappy spending her summer vacation away from home because being here with Wednesday was the closest thing to a real sleepover she ever had.

Ideally, there would be movie nights involving lots of snacks and maybe a few more people to play games with, but Enid could wait until the winter break for that to happen. Yoko had already invited Enid to spend a week at her place then, along with Divina and Bianca, and Enid wasn’t sure if Wednesday wanted to tag along, but she totally should. Otherwise, Enid wasn’t sure if she was even going because they were pretty much a package deal at this point. Wednesday was her BFF, after all, and Enid really had the feeling that Wednesday was slowly warming up to doing fun things together.

Enid lifted her sword and tried to remember the exact way to place her feet, but she wasn’t used to rough terrains because back at Nevermore, they had mats to break her fall when she had to back up fast. Plus, at school, Enid didn’t partner up with the only girl who could take Bianca’s title as captain of the fencing team. Wednesday was extremely agile, doing all kinds of acrobatic stuff that turned her matches into an edgy dance.

Not that Enid couldn’t do a cartwheel or anything, but she couldn’t do it with a freaking sword in her hand!

Enid took off her mask. “Okay,” she breathed, taking in the fresh air. “Knees bent,” she remembered while she moved her feet. “Find my balance… aim at my opponent. The invisible one, for now.”

“Lead with my front foot and—”

“Enid?”

Enid almost dropped her sword. “Mrs. Addams, hi,” she replied, using her free hand to wave at Wednesday’s mother.  

Mrs. Addams approached, and in that long black dress of hers, it looked like she was gliding across the ground. “What are you doing?” she questioned, looking down at the sword in Enid’s hand.

“Oh, um, I’m practicing for my fight with Wednesday tomorrow.”

“You’re having a duel?” Mrs. Addams frowned. “Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Enid answered, and she could mention the dare Wednesday gave her, but it still wouldn’t explain why.

Mrs. Addams’ brows smoothed out while her face relaxed. “Your hair looks different,” she commented as she stared at Enid’s head.

“It’s just a couple of hairpins.”

Mrs. Addams smiled. “I like it,” she said while she touched a lock of Enid’s hair, just for a second.

“Um… thanks, Mrs. Addams,” Enid replied, smiling as well. “And thank you so much for the furraccino with extra steak sauce you made for me this morning again.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Mrs. Addams said, and with that, she went back inside.

Enid went back to practicing, which was futile without a partner, so she tried to think about what Wednesday would do and what moves she would make. Enid sure had observed Wednesday enough when she sparred with Bianca to know some of her signature moves, but blocking them would be hard because it wasn’t about strength. Endurance, that Enid had going for her, but trying to outrun Wednesday until she got tired was hardly a good game plan unless the goal was to make Wednesday mad.

Mrs. Addams came back outside, her outfit changed from the elegant dress she had on to black pants, a blouse, and boots. She had a sword in her right hand, which she raised as she got closer.

“Um, Mrs. Addams,” Enid gulped, facing the Addams family matriarch. “I’m really not good at this.”

“You need not fear me, Enid. I’m here to help you.”

Enid exhaled a deep breath, relieved she didn’t have to fight Wednesday’s mother, who used to be the captain of the fencing team at Nevermore when she was a student there, and was an alumni legend whose trophies were displayed at school for all students to see.

***  

When Yoko answered the call right away and the video connected, Enid didn’t expect to see her with a hand up Divina’s shirt. Yoko and Divina were in Yoko’s bed, facing away from the camera, smiling at each other in between kisses. And Enid didn’t mind them expressing their love for one another so freely when they always kept their relationship kind of lowkey at Nevermore to the point where they weren’t even in the same dorm, but Enid didn’t need to see two of her friends – or any people – getting handsy like that.

“Hi, you guys,” Enid said, waving at the camera. “What’s up, Yoko? Aside from your hand up Divina’s shirt.”

“Oh, shit,” Yoko cursed, pulling her hand away. “Enid, hey. Fuck,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “I must have left the auto-accept calls function on.”

“Smooth,” Divina snorted, cheeks reddened, and neck covered in a hickey and what looked like a small bite mark. “What if it was Bianca?”

“She might realize boys are overrated and join us on our side, babe.”

“Just because she kissed a girl once for a dare doesn’t mean she isn’t straight,” Divina replied, smiling while she shook her head. “Trust me, I would have let her go to second base if she wasn’t. Before I swore my undying love to you, of course, shadow of my heart.”

“Bianca kissed a girl!?” Enid blurted out at the same time Wednesday walked into her room.

Oops, that was not subtle, but thankfully, it wasn’t an accidental outing since Bianca wasn’t gay.

Wednesday whispered something that Enid didn’t catch because it was too quiet and she was too distracted by her call with Yoko and Divina to use her wolf hearing. But before Enid had the chance to see if Wednesday wanted to join her and say hello to their friends, Wednesday turned on her heel and left faster than she had entered.

“Would you?” Divina asked, facing the camera. “For a dare?”

“Um…I guess,” Enid answered, because a quick peck wouldn’t mean anything anyway, and girls smelled nice. “But I’m done with dares for a while,” she added resolutely, already sore from this morning, and she had yet to fight Wednesday tomorrow.

“Cute babydoll,” Yoko commented. “White looks great on you.”

“I think it’s sexy,” Divina chimed in.

“Really?” Enid replied, feeling her whole face getting hot – or hotter than usual. “Do you think it’s too intimate? Do you think that’s why it bothered Wednesday so much?”

“Bothered, huh?” Yoko grinned, biting her lip. “Babe,” she sighed, nudging Divina’s side. “Eyes up.”

“Sorry,” Divina said while she averted her gaze. “You know how I feel about girls in lingerie.”

Enid gasped because she had never gotten that kind of attention from a girl before, and it felt strangely thrilling that she could. Divina was drop-dead gorgeous, so it was a major compliment that she had trouble keeping her eyes to herself. Wednesday had sized Enid up more than a few times, too, but not in that way, only in the ‘judging what outfit you’ve chosen’ way.

Wearing her babydoll was not on Enid’s bingo card today, but after spending hours in the sun, training in her fencing suit, she needed something light and airy to relax in.

“What did you guys get up to so far?” Enid asked, propping herself up on her stomach, swinging her legs in the air. “Anything new?”

“We watched Happiest Season last night,” Divina answered.

“I was rooting for Riley,” Yoko shared with a groan. “She’s so hot, I would let her step on me.”

“Is that the movie with that actress from Twilight?” Enid questioned because she thought she saw the cover of the movie they watched once at a video store, but she wasn’t sure if it was her or not.

“How dare you bring up that offensive assault on vampiric culture?” Yoko scoffed. “We do not sparkle in the sun! My skin isn’t made out of diamonds, it’s made out of—”

“Wifey material,” Divina interjected, smiling at Yoko.

Yoko grasped Divina’s chin. “Soon, babe, soon,” Yoko hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to Divina’s lips.

“Jacob is kind of dreamy, though,” Enid exhaled, sorry not sorry that she watched Twilight, despite all of its inaccuracies about vampires and werewolves.

“I thought you had better taste,” Yoko replied with a grimace on her face. “But at least you dumped Ajax, so maybe you do.”

“What’s wrong with Ajax?” Enid frowned. “Is it the Gorgon thing?”

“No, Boo, I don’t care about species mixing,” Yoko replied, which was true considering her girlfriend was a siren, who was sitting right next to her, planning their future wedding, which Enid would love to attend as a bridesmaid. “And he’s not a bad guy,” Yoko added, which was also accurate. “He just isn’t your type.”

Yoko was right about that last bit, too, but Enid had wanted Ajax to be her type. He should have been because he was kind, patient, funny, sweet, and overall such a nice guy. But Enid just wasn’t feeling it with him, and she wasn’t sure if she ever did feel more than friendship because she never craved more when they kissed. And Ajax sensed that too because she never opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. Enid had wanted to, but it felt too gross to even try.

“What do you think my type is?” Enid wondered out loud.

Yoko shrugged and smiled. “I’ll let you figure that one out,” she winked like she knew something Enid didn’t.

“How are things with Wednesday?” Divina asked. “Is she the reason your hair is different?”

Oh, Enid’s friends had no idea that Wednesday was the entire reason that it was, but Enid wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that Wednesday did her hair. Wednesday made it very clear that it was a secret, so no matter how much Enid wished she could tell Yoko and Divina everything about her summer vacation, she couldn’t.

***  

Enid propped her pillow up between her back and the headboard, glancing over at Wednesday on the other side of the line of pillows that separated them. It sucked that there was a border between them, but Enid kind of got it because Wednesday liked having her own half, and it was her room to do with what she wanted. But on the other hand, Enid didn’t bring any color into Wednesday’s bed besides the little bit of pink and blue dye in her hair, so Enid had hoped Wednesday would have stopped putting pillows between them by now.

“Wednesday?”

Wednesday’s eyes moved from the ceiling to the side. “Yes, Enid?”

It was eerie how motionless Wednesday kept her body, lying there with her arms crossed over her chest, like a vampire in a coffin in one of those old movies that got a lot of details wrong about actual vampires. Yoko and the rest of her species didn’t sleep in caskets but in beds, just like everyone else. And she didn’t burn in the sun, though her eyes were very sensitive to sunlight. The need to consume blood was true, but vampires didn’t go around biting people and draining them of their blood. They had their own shops where they could buy bags of blood, kind of like getting groceries, where the rarer blood types were more expensive.

“Do you want to play a game before we go to sleep?” Enid asked, far from tired because it wasn’t even ten yet, and she couldn’t spend hours lying silently in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Wednesday replied, moving her back in a straight line as she sat up. She turned on the lamp on her bedside table, illuminating the room with a warm yellow glow. “Which one do you have in mind?”

Enid hadn’t expected Wednesday to agree right off the bat, but it was great that she did. Maybe this was a good sign that Wednesday wanted to do fun things together and even enjoyed it, or maybe Wednesday was just being generous because of their upcoming fight. Whatever the reason was, Enid was happy that Wednesday said yes, unless she was about to suggest using her Ouija board. Enid did not like the idea of disturbing spirits one bit, particularly the angry ones.

End grabbed her phone from the bedside table. “I have this game on my phone that we could play,” she shared, and she got it from Yoko, who played it with Divina and said it was a good bonding activity.

“What type of game?”

It was called the empathy game, but Enid couldn’t tell Wednesday that, or she might change her mind and get all grumpy about Enid suggesting it in the first place. But it was such a good game to get to know people beyond stuff like favorite colors and food, and what kind of things they liked doing in their spare time. And there was still so much Enid didn’t know about Wednesday because she didn’t talk much unless she was putting together clues to solve a crime.

“It’s a question game,” Enid explained, which technically wasn’t a lie because it was all about answering questions. “There are three categories – imagine, memory, and who is – and we each take turns picking one, and then it’ll give us a random question to answer.”

“Very well,” Wednesday said while her expressions remained impassive, but her agreement to play was about as enthusiastic as Enid knew Wednesday would get. “I choose memory.”

Enid had expected her roomie to pick that one, finger already hovering over the memory option. “When did you wish you had a second chance?” she read the question on the card that popped up on her screen.

“During our last night at Nevermore,” Wednesday answered quite fast, not even taking a minute to think, implying that she had thought about this before.

Enid had thought about that night a lot as well, going over every detail. The way things went down wasn’t perfect, but she wouldn’t change anything because she got there in time to save Wednesday, and both of them survived. And afterward, they had that hug that changed the course of their friendship forever. The scars weren’t Enid’s favorite, but she would gladly endure more of them for Wednesday.

“I left you alone in the woods,” Wednesday recalled, but it was fine because she had a good, completely valid reason for that. “If I could go back to that night, I would not run off. I would stay by your side until the end.”

Enid wanted to squeeze Wednesday’s hand and tell her it was okay, but Enid knew she couldn’t touch Wednesday whenever she wanted to. “You’re my ride or die, too,” Enid reminded Wednesday, who had nothing to regret because she was in no position to fight a Hyde.

Wednesday crossed her legs, facing the line between them. “Like Thelma and Louise?”

Enid mirrored Wednesday, getting comfortable on the other side of the pillows. “Exactly!” Enid confirmed, smiling at the great example of two besties who were as thick as thieves, and the fact that Wednesday agreed that they were like them. 

“Okay, I choose imagine,” Enid shared while she clicked the randomizer to pick a card. “If you could switch lives with someone for one day, who would it be?” she read, shuddering at the thought of going all Freaky Friday with someone.

Swapping bodies wasn’t something Enid was interested in doing, at all, because she very much preferred to look like herself and stay true to her colors, but if it was only for one day, it might be fun to walk around in someone else’s shoes and experience firsthand how others treated them. Switching lives with somebody with a loving mother, for example, would be very nice to have for once in her life, and definitely something that Enid would give up her body for, for twenty-four hours.

“I’d probably choose you,” Enid decided with a nod and a smile. “It would be nice to play the cello like you can, and to see you in a color that isn’t black or white. But if I’m super honest, I’d do it to be an Addams for a day.”

“You want to be an Addams?” Wednesday replied, and when she stared, Enid noticed a twinkle in Wednesday’s dark eyes, like she was smiling without moving her lips. “Why?”

Enid could say follow-up questions weren’t part of the game, but it was fair of Wednesday to wonder why Enid went with her when she could have picked literally anyone in the world.

“Your family is so nice, and your mom loves you so much, I feel like she would hug me if I was you, because she would think that I am you. And I don’t think I could fool your family into thinking that, but if I don’t speak and try really hard not to blink, she might think I’m you long enough to hug me just once.”

“You want my mother to hug you?” Wednesday asked, and the light in her eyes was long gone by now, replaced by a scowl. “Why?”

“Because mine never does, Wednesday!” Enid blurted out, ripping off the band-aid of a very old wound that had never stopped bleeding. “My mom doesn’t love me, and yours loves you so much that she’d move heaven and Earth for you. I bet your mother would hug you every day if you let her. Meanwhile, mine won’t even hug me on my birth…,” Enid broke off when her voice cracked.

“Enid,” Wednesday swallowed, “you can hug me if—”

Enid threw herself over the pillows and flung her arms around Wednesday’s shoulders before she could finish that sentence, burying her nose in Wednesday’s neck while she all but crawled onto Wednesday’s lap.

“Thank you,” Enid sniffled because she really needed that, so freaking much.

“Enid.”

“Mhmm?”

“I hate it when you cry,” Wednesday said while she wound her arms around Enid’s waist with a tightness that would have been too much if she hadn’t been a wolf. “It’s…unbearable,” Wednesday exhaled, and Enid knew emotions made Wednesday uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I would like to go to San Francisco,” Wednesday announced with a sharp edge in her voice.

“No,” Enid chuckled through her tears. “You can’t kill my mother, Wednesday.”

“Permission to paralyze?”

Enid knew her mother wasn’t perfect, but she was still her mother, and Enid didn’t want her to get hurt. It was sweet how Wednesday wanted to play knight in shining armor, and also kind of cute, but Enid didn’t need Wednesday to go around slaying dragons for her.

After hugging for a while, Enid let go and went back to her half, feeling a lot better now.

“Your turn,” Enid said as she grabbed her phone. “Which category do you pick?”

“I shall go with who is.”

Enid nodded, clicking on the category. “Okay…what do you enjoy most about getting older?” she read, and if Enid had gotten that one, she would have said that getting older meant getting closer to being free.

Then again, as a werewolf, Enid could never be free from her family’s pressure. She couldn’t live her life the way she wanted to because, as a wolf, she had strict expectations to reach, regardless of her feelings. But maybe she could still be free in some ways, like making her own traditions, where each birthday involved steak and not just for boys and men, but for girls and women, too. 

“Being closer to death’s embrace,” Wednesday answered, which was extremely morbid, and Enid didn’t want Wednesday to die. Not until both of them were old and gray, with a life full of adventures behind them.

“If you die prematurely, I’ll find a way to the spirit realm so I can kick your ass,” Enid huffed.

The corners of Wednesday’s mouth curved up. “Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. And don’t you dare die on purpose or else…,” Enid trailed off, and she could show her claws, but that would have the opposite effect of what she wanted.

Enid went back to her phone, pressing imagine. “Which imaginary creature would you have as a pet?” she read, smiling at the fun question. “Why, a unicorn, of course! They’re my favorite imaginary creature.”

“I choose who is,” Wednesday said when Enid looked at her expectantly, and maybe Wednesday was hoping for another question she could give a dark answer to.

Enid looked at the card that popped up and smiled. “What can’t you live without?” she asked, curious to hear what mattered most to Wednesday.

Wednesday pursed her lips for a moment. “My pets, my family, and you,” she answered while their eyes met.

Aha! Enid knew Wednesday loved Erebus and Nyx and cared about her family. And – wait.

“Me?” Enid checked, blinking.

“You.”

“Good,” Enid smiled, nodding. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Enid would have chosen Wednesday too if she had drawn that card, along with the rest of her friends, who meant the world to Enid, too. But there was just something about Wednesday that was special, like it was destiny for them to be friends. Enid didn’t know if her friendships would last throughout her life, but she was never letting go of Wednesday because they were basically soul-friends, and Enid would hate it if they drifted apart.

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Enid read her next question while she thought about her answer. “Hmm, the first thing I wanted to be was a dancer because I used to dance all the time when I was about seven or eight, but then I wanted to be a lifeguard because I’m the weird wolf who likes being in the water, and I’m a decent swimmer. But what I really wanted to be, more than anything, was a teacher, so I could teach and help the next generation of werewolves.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Dancing?” Enid replied, watching as Wednesday nodded. “I don’t know,” Enid shrugged, though it was a good question. “I guess I just wasn’t happy anymore, and I stopped to learn more serious things, like how to cook and how to iron denim trousers.”

Wednesday’s brows furrowed. “You don’t wear denim.”

“I don’t,” Enid confirmed while the memory of why she quit dancing started coming back to her. “But my mom wanted me to learn that stuff for my future husband,” she explained, remembering how her mother had told her that dancing was silly and a waste of time.

Wednesday’s eye twitched. “She wants you to be a housewife,” she stated, which was kind of it, yeah. “My mother forced lessons on me, too. To be like her and father, even though I explicitly told her I shall never follow in their footsteps.”

Enid had no idea that Wednesday dealt with similar pressure as she had, and Enid didn’t think Wednesday’s parents were like that because they seemed so easy-going. But Enid had only known Wednesday’s mom and dad for a week, and Enid knew lots of teenagers struggled with their parents’ expectations, so it wasn’t that strange that Wednesday was in the same boat. 

“I choose imagine,” Wednesday announced suddenly. “And this shall be the last question I answer tonight,” she added, which was fair because it was getting close to midnight.

“What would you do with a ‘get out of jail free’ card?” Enid asked the question on the card that popped up.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Kill all Hydes,” she answered, breathing harshly through her nose.

Enid blinked at what sounded like a mission Wednesday wanted to sink her teeth into, whether it would land her in prison or not. But it would be a really bad idea to go around the globe to hunt down Hydes, and maybe there were Hydes out there that weren’t evil, with good masters who didn’t send them on killing sprees and helped them control their rage when they transformed.

Plus, Hydes were rare, and after having lost the last of the Yetis, Cyclopses, and Minotaurs several decades ago, and with Avians and Vanishers close to being the next to go extinct, wiping out another species of outcasts didn’t sound like the best way to deal with one bad apple. A very bad, very rotten, very toxic apple, who did deserve to die for the horrible things he did, but that didn’t mean all Hydes deserved the same fate.

Enid picked a category without looking for her final turn, kind of stuck on the erasing a species thing.

“What objects would you save from your burning house?” Enid read out loud, which was an easy one to answer. “If there was a fire, I would save my clothes and the box under my bed because it has all of the drawings Isla made for me and lots of silly pictures we took last summer, and this adorable clay mug she gave me for my birthday that she painted all by herself.”

“The two of you must be close.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” Enid confirmed, smiling as she thought about the memories she had captured with her camera as well as her heart. “Isla is my favorite kid in the whole world.”

“She looks like you.”

“I know,” Enid nodded, aware of the similarities in their physical appearance and the fact that Isla dyed her hair the same way she did. “But don’t let that fool you. She has your fearlessness and your fighting spirit.”

Wednesday arched a brow. “I doubt that.”

“She clawed out a boy’s eye, Wednesday,” Enid shared, which should be proof enough to make her point. “Like…if you and I had a kid together, it would be Isla.”

“I abhor the idea of having a furbaby.”

Enid rolled her eyes. “Wolf hater,” she teased, knowing Wednesday didn’t mean it like that.

“I don’t hate you, little wolf,” Wednesday replied softly. “Quite the contrary.”

“You know, the opposite of hate is—”

“Night, Enid.”

“Good night, roomie.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday covered her mother’s black calla lilies with a plastic sheet to avoid getting blood on them after what happened last summer, when she stabbed one of her cousins for thinking the height difference between them made her a weak opponent. He bled like a pig, and squealed like one too when she spilled his guts all over her mother’s flowers.

It was on purpose, of course, and while Wednesday did not concern herself with the survival of her mother’s precious lilies, Wednesday did owe her mother for cleansing their home of all its silver, including the pieces she somehow failed to add to the purge herself. Wednesday tugged at the corners of the plastic to straighten it out when she had the feeling she was no longer alone in the garden.

Soft footsteps approached Wednesday from behind, with every step slower and fainter than the last, until they ceased altogether. It wasn’t her mother to complain about the plastic suffocating her lilies, considering her footsteps were lighter and had a consistent pace. It wasn’t her father either, whose footsteps were like a stampede, or her brother, who no longer snuck up on Wednesday since she cracked one of his ribs.

“Hello, Enid,” Wednesday acknowledged her friend, who had approximately nineteen minutes left to get ready for their duel, give or take a few seconds.

“Hi,” Enid spoke barely above a whisper. “I, uh…,” she cleared her throat. “I’m guessing our fight is still on, hmm?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Wednesday responded as she turned around, noticing a lack of color in Enid’s cheeks, which were perfectly rosy earlier this morning. “I dared you to,” Wednesday reminded Enid, whose blood she wasn’t out to spill.

The plastic sheet was merely a precaution to take Enid’s speed and strength into account in case Wednesday failed to dodge in time when Enid struck. Wednesday had taken to fencing when Enid was still a little runt, but Wednesday was no wolf, and with the proper training, Enid could be a formidable opponent. Furthermore, the swords that Wednesday used at home weren’t as blunt as the ones at school. They were sharpened rigorously, ready for battle at any time. And rainy nights, where the chance of being struck by lightning amidst a fight was too exhilarating to pass up.

Pugsley got hit during one such night a few months ago, but instead of going into cardiac arrest, his abilities grew stronger. The pathetic spark he spent years using to create a zap outmatched by a stun gun now revived rats in the dungeon. Soon, he would no longer need Wednesday to fight his bullies for him. But she would still seek vengeance on anyone who dared to torment her little brother.

“You dared me to, therefore I must?” Enid chuckled, wringing her hands together while she stared at the ground. “Yeah, I’m aware of that,” she sighed heavily, lifting her head as she looked around. “But you didn’t even let me choose between truth or dare.”

Enid’s complaint was irrelevant because she inevitably would have chosen dare at a certain turn, whether it was on the first or the last. Thus, it would have always led to this outcome. But if Enid wasn’t up for the challenge, perhaps Wednesday could accommodate her.

“If you feel our fight is unfair, I won’t use my dominant hand,” Wednesday offered, although it wouldn’t make much of a difference considering she was capable of fighting with both. It might, however, create the illusion that it did.

“No, that’s not…,” Enid shook her head. “You shouldn’t fight with your left hand, Wednesday,” she exhaled, biting her bottom lip as their eyes met.

Wednesday pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, irritated by the implication that she was inept to fight with her other hand due to her injured shoulder. Granted, it would interfere with the healing process, but Wednesday wasn’t against pulling a few stitches. A superficial wound was nowhere near enough to bring her down and bench her.

“Go change,” Wednesday told Enid, who would be wise to put on her fencing suit rather than fight in that soft pink dress with the little bows attached to the straps. This was not the time for Enid to model her good looks and match her outfit to her scars, which, unfortunately, had grown pinker as they healed.

“You have twenty minutes,” Wednesday announced, adding five more than Enid originally had left.

Enid crossed her arms. “It will take as long as it takes,” she responded with a huff. “I’m not going to ruin this dress by rushing to take it off for you, so deal with it or find someone else to dare.”

Wednesday watched as Enid spun around and marched back into the house. If Enid brought that same fire to their fight, Wednesday wouldn’t mind waiting, even if she had to stay outside until nightfall, or postpone their duel to a later date.

Half an hour later, Enid returned with the proper fencing attire.

“So, uh…what are the boundaries?” Enid asked while she glanced around, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right. “Do we fight from here to that tree over there, or…?” she guessed as she gestured from the covered flowers to the tree near Wednesday’s bedroom window.

Staying on the grass would be softer in case of a scrape, but this wasn’t Nevermore, and enemies didn’t care about their opponent’s comfort. The world was a cruel place, and while Wednesday had little to no kindness to offer, Enid was not her foe but her friend.

“The only rule is no retreating indoors or outside the gate,” Wednesday answered, though it would be impressive if Enid could make it to the other side before Wednesday caught up with her.

“Driveway and garden,” Enid nodded as she adjusted her grip on her sword. “Got it.”

“First to strike thrice wins,” Wednesday decided, to give Enid the opportunity to hit her at least once.

One strike was to be expected from a newly transformed wolf who had tapped into increased strength and speed. Two would be impressive and a sign of immense growth, and Wednesday would be proud if Enid broke through her defenses twice. Three, however, was impossible for an opponent who wasn’t determined to master fencing.

If Enid won, then Wednesday had grown rusty. In which case, she needed to devote an hour daily to practice, though Wednesday might do so regardless, alongside training with a variety of weapons. Her return to Nevermore was only nine weeks away, and Wednesday had to concentrate on her mission to take Tyler out once and for all. She had yet to put the pieces into motion, but her Uncle Fester was on board with breaking into Willow Hill to handle Tyler before he escaped and went after the people closest to Wednesday.

Perhaps she should push Enid away for her protection, but Wednesday doubted that staying away from Enid would keep her safe, and Wednesday preferred Enid by her side, where she could shield her as soon as a threat appeared. So no, distance was not acceptable. Wherever Enid went, Wednesday would follow.

“Ready?” Enid asked, smiling as she put her right foot forward and bent her knees, raising her sword up to the back of her head. It was an unusual position to take on at the beginning of a duel, one Wednesday only saw one person close to her use before. “En garde!” Enid exclaimed, crouching a little bit lower.

Wednesday blocked Enid’s sword as it swung over her head, clashing mid-air. When Enid moved, Wednesday moved with her. They danced across the grass to the symphony of metal colliding with metal. Enid’s thrusts weren’t as lousy as they used to be, and her parries deflecting Wednesday’s attacks had improved as well.

Enid grunted with every strike she tried to land and gasped with every move from Wednesday she blocked. The constant noise was somewhat distracting, but it did give Enid away when she was about to swing.

“Stop moaning,” Wednesday said as her sword struck Enid’s. “You sound like a wolf in heat,” Wednesday added, although she had never heard a werewolf in that particular distressed state before.

Enid lowered her sword, piercing a patch of grass between them. “I’m not in heat!” she exclaimed, raising her weapon. “Oh my God, Wednesday.”

“Then why are you still moaning?” Wednesday pushed, adjusting her stance to move forward.

“I’m going to get you.”

“I’m right here,” Wednesday responded, gesturing at herself with her left hand. “Come and get me.”

Enid took a step back, and another, going further as Wednesday advanced. Putting distance between the two of them and her mother’s flowers wasn’t the worst idea, but any attempt to flee was futile. During the muted shuffling of feet across the garden, Wednesday noticed a shadow lingering nearby.

Wednesday should have known their fight wouldn’t go unnoticed, though she had no bone to pick with Enid. This wasn’t the kind of duel where the winner gained something valuable, like respect. If Enid won, however, Wednesday would reward her for her achievement.

Enid dodged behind the tree as it blocked Wednesday’s sword aiming for Enid’s chest. She lifted her left arm, wrapped it around the tree, and dug crescent moons into the wood with her claws. Wednesday watched as Enid’s natural weapon went deeper. But in doing so, Wednesday took her eyes off Enid’s other hand. It was a mistake that Wednesday regretted when the tip of Enid’s sword poked her side.

“One down,” Enid announced, smiling at her subterfuge. “Two more to go.”

“You’ll only be counting to three when keeping track of my points.”

Enid’s claws retracted. “Can you at least admit you were distracted?”

Wednesday pursed her lips, and right or not, she didn’t need to confirm what Enid already knew.

“I think you nicked me,” Wednesday said, using her free hand to touch her side.

“Oh no,” Enid gasped, stepping out from behind the tree. “Are you okay?” she asked, wide-eyed, while she stared at Wednesday’s hand.

Wednesday turned her sword and smacked Enid with the flat side. “Who’s distracted now?” Wednesday countered, though it appeared Enid had nicked Wednesday’s side.

It was only a scratch, though. The tip of the sword couldn’t have gone further than half an inch deep when it pierced Wednesday’s suit. But if Enid’s nose didn’t give her away, there was no need for Wednesday to cause concern where none was necessary.

“That is so unfair,” Enid responded, back to moaning. “I thought you were actually hurt.”

Wednesday advanced, intent on scoring her second point to break the tie. 

“Hold up,” Enid said when Wednesday tossed her sword from one hand to the other. “Are you, like, ambidextrous or something?”

“I am,” Wednesday confirmed, feeling her stitches stretch against her shoulder. “Though I favor my right,” she admitted, but it was better to keep an opponent on their toes. “As do you,” she pointed out, aiming for Enid’s left side.

The tip of Wednesday’s sword pricked the left side of Enid’s suit, deep enough to score without adding injury.

“You leave your left side open too much,” Wednesday commented, in case Enid wasn’t aware of her rookie mistake.

Enid rolled her eyes. “You sound like your mother,” she muttered, a little too loud for Wednesday to miss, given their proximity to one another.

Wednesday moved faster, going forward until Enid’s back knocked against the tree with a thud and a grunt.

“Three,” Wednesday counted as she pressed the blunt side of her sword to Enid’s throat.

“Um, Wednesday,” Enid gulped against the metal. “Could you…?” she asked, pointing at Wednesday’s sword.

Wednesday tossed her sword aside. “I may have won,” she said as she took a step back to create space between them. “But your subterfuge was clever,” she admitted to give credit where it was due. “You should always seek to exploit your opponent’s weakness.”

Enid leaned against the tree and smiled. “My claws make you weak, hm?”

Damn that little wolf.

One of these days, Wednesday was going to shut that pretty mouth of hers.

***   

Wednesday entered the kitchen, leaning on her toes as she reached for the cupboard. She opened the door and sighed, seeing her mug pushed two inches farther than the spot she kept it in, circled with a black marker. Either her mother cleaned and forgot to put it back, or Thing was cross with her again and sought ways to inconvenience her rather than confront Wednesday directly.

If it was indeed the latter, Wednesday had no idea what she did to upset him. She did take away Thing’s silver trinkets, but he liked Enid more than Wednesday did, so she doubted he held that against her.

“Amateurs,” Wednesday muttered as she flattened her palms on the countertop. She pushed herself up, using her right knee as leverage to climb on.

Wednesday considered dusting her mug for fingerprints, but she needed a quad over ice before she murdered someone. Probably Pugsley, whose body she could give to Uncle Fester, seeing Wednesday owed him one for that deer that was no longer there when they returned from the woods. Although it would be unfortunate to no longer have a sibling to torment.

Wednesday grabbed her black cauldron mug – a gift from her grandmama for being a seer – and climbed down from the countertop. She was in the middle of making her coffee when she sensed someone behind her.

“Hello, Mother,” Wednesday said without turning around. “If you’re done spying on me, I would appreciate fifteen minutes of solitude.”

“You held back during your duel,” her mother commented, as usual criticizing what Wednesday did.

“It is not my intention to wound her,” Wednesday responded, though she didn’t expect her mother to comprehend the complex nature of her relationship with Enid, which Wednesday barely understood herself. “I want Enid to defend herself when there is no full moon to empower her,” Wednesday clarified, revealing her sole purpose of challenging Enid.

“She is stronger than you give her credit for, darling.”

Wednesday left her mug sitting on the counter as she faced her mother. “I never said she is weak,” Wednesday bit out. “Enid is magnificent, and if I can unlock her true potential, nobody can mortally wound her.”

“It warms my cold heart seeing you with her,” her mother expressed with a smile, and Wednesday wanted to tell her mother not to get used to it, but that would be a lie. “The friendship between you two is exceptional.”

Wednesday would call it unconventional, though she would rather not dwell on the specifics of her entanglement with her roommate.

“You helped Enid with her training,” Wednesday mentioned, certain after watching Enid incorporate moves they didn’t teach at Nevermore.

Her mother nodded nearly imperceptibly. “I caught her practicing yesterday.”

Wednesday gave Enid a week, and she waited until the last day to train. It befuddled Wednesday how she had befriended someone so chaotically disorganized when they could have been enemies, but a world where she hated Enid didn’t exist. Wednesday did dislike Enid at first, but like a cockroach, her peppy roommate kept seeking her out until Wednesday grew used to having her around.

And now, Wednesday would hijack her father’s car and cross the border with Enid to keep her out of Tyler’s and Esther’s claws. Wednesday might do so regardless because she had the feeling that Enid belonged with her, to remain her friend as others inevitably grew distant. They could run away together, like Thelma and Louise did, according to the information Wednesday tracked down on Enid’s phone while Enid slept.

“I have missed seeing that beautiful smile of yours, my little raven,” her mother commented suddenly, alerting Wednesday that her facial expressions had slipped in the presence of her mother.

“Stop,” Wednesday spoke up, done biting her tongue. “Stop reminding me I’m not a dove.”

Her mother frowned while she tilted her head. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” she responded, as if denying it would make it less true. “Wednesday, I’m sorry.”

Wednesday could share her thoughts on the matter, but she would rather pull out her teeth one by one with a pair of pliers than talk about feelings with her mother. She had exposed enough, divulging her hatred of that nickname, along with the reason why.

“You are the apple of my eye,” her mother claimed with watery eyes and a smile. “And as much as the thought of you going mad the way Ophelia did and losing you like I lost her terrifies me, I’m proud to be your mother.”

“Proud?” Wednesday sneered at the flagrant dishonesty. “Do not feign pride when you have ceaselessly pushed me to be like you.”

When Wednesday had to endure lessons learning a number of ballroom dances, she spent hours in bloodied shoes, repeating each routine over and over until her mother was satisfied with the result. And when Wednesday’s etiquette coach ran for the hills, her mother took it upon herself to teach her, criticizing her along the way for the tiniest imperfections.

“It’s not a deception,” her mother insisted. “You are my darling girl. My dear little raven.”

Wednesday stiffened when her mother’s fingertips brushed her cheek. This was not what Wednesday wanted, and she made that clear as she pulled away. For years, her mother had respected Wednesday’s number one boundary, and now that was damaged, too.

“Why must you fight me so?” her mother asked, and if she thought they would hug it out, then she was the one who had gone mad.

Speaking of people driven to insanity, Wednesday thought as her mother’s words lingered like the Patchouli in her perfume.

“Mother,” Wednesday pressed, straightening her spine to the point of discomfort. “Who is Ophelia?”

“Forget I said her name,” her mother answered with a wave of her hand. “You don’t need to concern yourself with her, Wednesday. You have Goody.”

Wednesday pursed her lips at the news of another psychic raven in their bloodline. One her mother knew but never breathed a word about before, when her mother knew she would present as a raven years prior to her powers beginning to manifest. Therefore, the existence of another psychic raven ancestor when Wednesday thought she had none left was a matter that concerned her entirely and should not have been kept a secret.

Where was her mother’s pride in her being a raven if she wanted Wednesday to be alone?

“Goody is gone,” Wednesday announced, sharing a significant detail of what went down during her last night at Nevermore.

Her mother’s complexion paled further than usual, perhaps realizing that Wednesday needed that ancestor. She could inform her mother as to what Goody did that caused her to disappear, but Wednesday was certain her mother could figure that one out on her own.

“Whatever you do, don’t listen to Ophelia,” her mother cautioned while she shook her head. “She’s not well.”

“Nobody in our family is, Mother.”

“Not like Ophelia,” her mother claimed, as persistent as a dog with a bone. “She was consumed by her powers, and I tried to help her, but your grandmama sent her to an asylum,” she explained while she grabbed a glass from the cupboard. “I won’t let what happened to my sister happen to my daughter.”

Sister.

Wednesday had an aunt – a raven, like her – who could step up and be her new spirit guide. Something her mother quite vocally opposed, but what else was new?

“Let me help you,” her mother insisted while she poured herself a glass of wine.

“You told me a living psychic cannot train other psychics, only the ghost of an ancestor can,” Wednesday reminded her mother, whose ability was useless to her, regardless of whether she was dead or alive.

Her mother set her glass down in such a swift motion, it shattered upon impact. “I forbid you from speaking with Ophelia, and that is final,” she commanded, pointing a bleeding finger at Wednesday.

Wednesday grasped her coffee and paused on her way out, back turned toward her mother.

Wednesday wanted to tell her mother how, ever since it was known that she was destined to be a raven, she believed she would never be good enough for her, and how it turned out that she had believed so in vain. For there was only one failure in this family, and for the first time, Wednesday was certain that person wasn’t her. But she couldn’t get those words past her lips, too aware of how deep they might cut.

“It’s not up to you or me to decide who comes forward to guide me,” Wednesday pointed out instead.

Enid told Wednesday that she was loved by her mother, and despite her vehement inclination to disagree, Wednesday questioned whether Enid had voiced a fearful truth.

“You can either accept who I am, or let me go for not being who you wanted me to be. The choice is yours, Mother,” Wednesday decided, reconsidering her idea to go her own way.

“And if you touch me like that again,” Wednesday added in an afterthought, “it will be the last time I set foot in the same room as you.”

***   

Enid was propped up on Wednesday’s bed, leaning on her elbows as her stomach rested on top of the mattress. Wednesday stood in front of her dresser, glancing at Enid swinging her legs back and forth, clad in that white babydoll again. Enid smiled as she listened to a pop song on her phone that made Wednesday’s ears bleed from the sheer volume alone, trumping the voice in her head as she tried to sort her thoughts.

Wednesday opened her mouth to tell Enid to go somewhere else before she flung her phone out of the window, but then Enid started lip-syncing, and seeing her have fun reminded Wednesday of Enid’s upcoming birthday. Not that Wednesday had forgotten – on the contrary, Enid was on her mind every waking hour.

Perhaps, a few more minutes of enduring what Enid called music wasn’t entirely unbearable.

Enid rubbed her right shoulder and leaned more on her left elbow, looking up from her phone at Wednesday, who caught Enid’s gaze. “Why does it feel right every time I let you in?” Enid mouthed along, moving her head from one side to the other. “Why does it feel like I can tell you anything?”

The lyrics, while filled with an emotional struggle that made Wednesday want to projectile vomit, were a slight upgrade compared to the nonsense Enid usually listened to.

“We could be free,” Enid lip-synced, touching her left hand to her right shoulder again, kneading her skin. “Freeee,” She hummed, reducing the volume on her phone.

Wednesday turned her gaze toward her open drawer to select her clothes for tomorrow, so she could place them on top of her dresser. It was more efficient to prepare rather than Enid’s unhinged method of tossing her clothes into a pile until she found what she wanted to wear. 

“I really like this song,” Enid shared as if her inability to remain still wasn’t an indication of that, although she hardly ever stopped moving. “It’s one of the songs from this movie that came out this week, called K-pop Demon Hunters.”

Wednesday grabbed her oversized black hoodie and placed it atop her dresser while she glanced at Enid, whose smile put the brightness of the sun to shame. Scientifically speaking, it was impossible for a smile to blind someone, but if anyone could succeed at doing so, it would be Enid.

“There are clips all over social media,” Enid continued, reaching for her right shoulder with a slight grimace this time. “And the visuals are so stunning. No wonder it took more than seven years to make.”

Seven years, and the best they could come up with was a song full of rhymes? As far as visuals went, Wednesday preferred films sans color, such as Psycho.

Enid moved her hand to her neck, rolling her head as she massaged herself.

Wednesday went to her bathroom and filled up the tub with soapy hot water. She grabbed a couple of towels, placed one on the floor, and put the others on the hooks on the wall behind the bathtub. Wednesday thought about lighting a few candles to use instead of the light, but she didn’t want them to get knocked over.

The room was silent when Wednesday returned. Enid was still on her bed, but sitting up rather than lying down. Enid yawned and stretched out her arms before rubbing her neck and her shoulder again. Wednesday wondered if Enid’s back was sore from their fight as well.

“Enid,” Wednesday called out as she stood a few steps away from her bathroom door.

Enid rubbed her eyes. “Mhmm?” she hummed, peering up at Wednesday.

“I drew you a bath, should you wish to relax.”

Enid scrambled up and stumbled. Wednesday instinctively reached out, but Enid was too far away and managed to catch herself before colliding with the floor. 

What a clumsy idiot, Wednesday thought while she lowered her arms.

Enid approached, smiling that bright smile of hers. “Thanks, Wednesday!” she exclaimed, close to Wednesday’s ear.

Wednesday was about to tell Enid to tamp down the exuberance when Enid leaned forward and pressed her lips against her cheek. Enid’s mouth was soft and smooth, like Wednesday’s silk sheets, which were of the highest quality on the market. And somehow, Enid’s lips were even warmer than her ridiculously hot hands, spreading their heat like wildfire.

In the split second it took for Wednesday’s brain to process the unpermitted touch she failed to predict before it happened, Enid stepped back. Her blue eyes widened, mouth agape while her hands shot up to cover her mouth. Wednesday, on the other hand, kept hers firmly closed as her mind relayed Enid’s brazen action.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Enid gasped, moving another step further away. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she claimed with a grimace on her face. “I’m just tired and you’re my bestie, so I wasn’t thinking.”

Wednesday clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her spine as she did.

“Please don’t kick me out,” Enid pleaded while she wrung her hands together. “I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to do that to you. And I’ll understand if you want to kick me out, but—”

“Stop talking,” Wednesday interjected, and her voice lacked bite, but one verbal fight was exhausting enough for one day. “Go bathe before the water turns cold,” she insisted for both of their sakes.

Enid sucked her lips into her mouth and nodded, doing as she was told.

Wednesday touched her cheek, but the warm sensation Enid’s lips left behind wasn’t detectable on the surface. It was new, and Wednesday wondered if it was a wolf thing she wasn’t aware of, until now. Nonetheless, the gesture was unacceptable, and if it weren’t a mistake on her enthusiastically touchy roommate’s part, Wednesday would not have shown mercy.

“Enid,” Wednesday grumbled when the sensation not only lingered but spread through her veins, like a toxin. She knocked on her bathroom door and entered without awaiting a response, keeping her gaze away from the tub to respect Enid’s boundary regarding her undressed state.

Water sloshed around and spilled near Wednesday’s feet, followed by a familiar gasp.

“What have you done?” Wednesday hissed, pointing at the cheek Enid’s lips had touched.

“I’m sorry about the pink lipstick mark. It should wash right off with a bit of water, though.”

Enid’s lipstick, of course. That was what Wednesday’s body reacted to.

Chapter Text

♫ Here with you, I can finally breathe. You say you’re no good, but you’re good for me. ♫

Enid sang the lyrics to Free over and over in her head, partially because she loved the song, but also to distract herself while she processed stuff.

Yesterday was a lot, like seeing the Mount Everest a lot. Enid was so worried that Wednesday was angry with her about the whole kiss on her cheek incident. Total brain fog, by the way, and a hundred percent accidental. Though at the same time, it kind of wasn’t a mistake. It was just an old yet newish habit because Enid had kissed Yoko on the cheek before, too, like good friends did. But she knew Wednesday was iffy about being touched, like ninety-nine percent of the time, tolerating it in very small and limited doses.

It was tough for Enid to sleep, not knowing if she had hurt their friendship, and such a relief when Wednesday brushed her hair for her and put in the pins, just like Wednesday did the morning before, and the one before that. Enid wanted to talk about it, but couldn’t think of any explanation that would be remotely helpful in Wednesday’s book. It was probably better to let it go and act like it never happened, because it shouldn’t have. And it wouldn’t have if Enid were awake and alert enough to think for a second first.

Enid would like it very much if they could have the kind of friendship that involved kisses on the cheek, though. Wednesday’s skin was so nice to touch, blending so well with Enid’s heat as a werewolf. She imagined Wednesday’s lips were even better, though Enid might never know for sure unless Wednesday kissed her on the cheek at some point, too.

A girl could dream, right? Because once upon a time, a hug seemed just as unlikely to happen. Enid could be patient, the patientest even, which wasn’t a real world, but it should be. And if Wednesday never warmed up to cheek kisses, then that was okay too because Enid didn’t need Wednesday to touch her to know that they were besties.

“We are going out today,” Wednesday announced suddenly as they stood in her bathroom, getting into their morning routine where they shared the space until they were about to undress, although sometimes they just turned their backs to one another for that. “Choose your clothes accordingly,” Wednesday added while her eyes traveled down Enid’s pajama, as if she would ever go outside wearing lingerie.

“We as in us?” Enid asked, gesturing between the two of them with her left hand while she held her white toothbrush in her right. It was one of Wednesday’s spares, which she gave to Enid after she accidentally bit off the head of hers after getting a text from her mom. “Or is your family coming, too?” Enid checked, just to clarify what Wednesday meant exactly by ‘we.’

Either way was fine, really, but Enid needed to know to help her pick the right outfit because if all of them were going, she would probably go with something classy, like a dress with cute ruffles or bows. But if it was a girl’s day out with Wednesday, then Enid had way more options because everything went with black and white. Too bad it was too warm for matching snoods, though, but at least there wouldn’t be a third wheel this time. So, yay!

“You and I,” Wednesday answered, and Enid liked the sound of that.

“Copy that, roomie,” Enid replied, smiling while she added a salute. “How many minutes are you giving me this time?”

“A hundred and eighty minutes,” Wednesday said dryly, putting that black charcoal toothpaste of hers on the white bristles of her black toothbrush.

Three hours? Sounded like a lunch date, or at least Enid hoped it would involve food because she hated skipping meals, and she had gotten hungrier since she transformed for the first time. Enid thought it was a temporary side effect, but apparently it wasn’t, and it kind of started to worry her. She wished she could talk about it with another wolf, but Enid had barely spoken to any of the furs at Nevermore, and she didn’t want to discuss it with her parents in case something was wrong with her.

Enid grabbed her strawberry toothpaste. She had mint as well, but she liked the strawberry flavor, and Enid’s teeth were in perfect condition. It was a wolf thing to have strong and healthy teeth so she could bite through bone during a full moon. Not that Enid wanted to attack animals because that was way too cruel, but it was good to know that she could. Wednesday should probably lock her up during the next full moon, though, to protect Pugsley’s alligator.   

“What?” Enid mumbled, pausing mid-brush when she caught Wednesday staring.

“Your teeth are sharper,” Wednesday replied, pointing at one of her own upper left teeth, and then at one of her upper right teeth, mirroring the location of Enid’s fangs when she transformed. “Fascinating,” Wednesday whispered while she took a step closer, ogling Enid like she was some kind of science project.

Enid bent toward the marble sink and spat out her toothpaste. She ran her tongue across her upper teeth, exhaling when she felt that those two particular teeth were indeed sharper than usual, but only a little bit. Wednesday must have observed her a lot to even notice, though nothing really went by Wednesday’s keen senses.

“Is there anything else that looks off about me?” Enid questioned, wondering if Wednesday thought she was weird for eating like a boy going through a growth spurt after hardly touching any food at all on her first day at Wednesday’s house.

“Enid,” Wednesday sighed, putting her toothbrush down. “Nothing about your looks is off-putting to me,” she said while she made eye contact. “If I were to take you to a museum, they would claim you as stolen art and lock me up for theft.”

OMG, she didn’t just say that!

Enid’s face got so hot at the major compliment, she felt it all the way up to the tips of her ears and all the way down her neck. For someone who wasn’t used to comforting people, Wednesday sure knew how to boost Enid’s confidence and make her feel good about herself. She loved how Wednesday didn’t mock her feelings, even if she didn’t understand them.

Wednesday blinked when Enid snapped her toothbrush in half.

“Oh, no,” Enid grimaced at the broken halves, caused by a lapse in her strength. “Wednesday, I’m—”

“Breathe,” Wednesday interjected, holding up her right hand, and Enid wanted to put her palm against hers, but that probably wasn’t why Wednesday held it there. “It’s just a toothbrush.”

“Right,” Enid nodded, but it was Wednesday’s.

On the bright side, Enid didn’t break anything valuable or destroy something in Wednesday’s room, but if Enid wasn’t careful, she could. Something about her was different, and not good different. More like what-the-heck different. It was the same feeling she had right before her bones started to crack during the blood moon, and it was worse whenever her mom texted her something upsetting, like how she was donating some of Enid’s clothes to charity.

That was how Enid ruined her toothbrush before Wednesday gave her a spare, but Enid hadn’t told Wednesday about the message because she didn’t want Wednesday to do something rash to get her clothes back. It would be pretty much impossible to track them down anyway, and they weren’t as priceless as Enid’s stuffed animals. She didn’t need Wednesday to get angry when she was already contemplating ways to turn Enid into an orphan. And she didn’t believe that Wednesday would kill her family, but Wednesday might harm them. Quite badly, even.

Because Wednesday said that she couldn’t live without Enid, and Wednesday had asked for her permission to paralyze her mom. It could have been an empty threat to make Enid feel better, but she had the feeling that Wednesday wanted to do it for real, and would in a heartbeat if Enid said yes. 

Enid rinsed her mouth, smiling when Wednesday handed her a new toothbrush. She owed Wednesday – not just for the toothbrushes but also for the shopping spree that she took her on last Sunday – and Enid knew that Wednesday wasn’t after getting something in return, but still. Enid owed her bestie a favor for sure, regardless of whether Wednesday agreed or not.

When Enid finished up in the bathroom, she went back into Wednesday’s bedroom to pick out an outfit. The moment Enid walked in, she saw Wednesday swallowing some type of pills. Probably iron supplements or vitamins that helped keep her healthy, if Enid had to guess. Wednesday must have been taking them for a while because the bottle that she put back in her drawer was nearly empty, and yet it was Enid’s first time noticing.

“No one sees me the way you do,” Enid sang quietly while she looked through her improvised wardrobe, glancing at Wednesday, who was putting some type of cream – sun cream, maybe? – on her face.

“Take my hand, it’s open,” Enid hummed along to the melody in her head, and she had to see that movie as soon as she got back to Nevermore. “What if we heal what’s broken?”

“Enid.”

“Yes?” Enid asked, shifting her gaze from her clothes to her roommate.

“I am going to the kitchen,” Wednesday announced, zipping up her hoodie, and – wait, when did she get dressed? What the heck? “Would you like a hideously colorful drink?”

“Yes, please,” Enid nodded, and she would tag along, but there was no way she would walk around in her babydoll. “Thanks, roomie,” she smiled, blowing Wednesday a kiss.

Wednesday mouthed something on her way out that Enid didn’t catch, and she really needed to start tuning in to her surroundings more. But if Wednesday had wanted her to hear, then she would have spoken up.

Enid wondered where they were going soon, and she loved how going out on Sunday seemed to be their new thing. First, the shopping trip last Sunday, and now going to some place Wednesday hadn’t disclosed yet. But she hadn’t told Enid about those stores beforehand either, keeping it a secret until the last minute instead, which was cool because Enid loved surprises. Nice ones, anyway.

*** 

Yamada, the sign outside of the building read where Wednesday had Lurch drop them off. A mixture of sweet and savory smells came from inside, which only grew stronger and more yummy when Wednesday opened the door. Enid’s stomach growled, even though she had just eaten four pieces of toast with eggs, a bowl of yoghurt, and one of Wednesday’s mother’s homemade blueberry muffins two hours ago.

Wednesday led Enid all the way to the back of the restaurant, where a plaque with ‘Addams’ engraved on it sat in the middle of a table tucked around the corner, like a hidden booth. The cushions were made out of black leather, with plenty of space for two on each side. Three, if people squeezed close together.

Enid slid into the booth, smiling when Wednesday moved to sit next to her. Maybe it was just about leg space and not so much about wanting to be close, but either way, Enid wasn’t complaining.

“The menu here must be expensive,” Enid guessed, though for her lots of places were pricey. But not have-your-own-signature-plaque kind of pricey. “And I know you can afford it, but I would be just as happy with a hotdog or a pretzel.”

Wednesday wriggled her nose, which was cute to see. “I would rather chew off my hand than eat such snacks,” she grumbled silently, and that tracked, but hotdogs weren’t that bad with the right topping.

Enid wanted to tell Wednesday that she should try out for the theater club next year because of her flair for the dramatics, but Enid strongly preferred making it to her seventeenth birthday. Her birthday was only three days away at this point, and maybe she should tell Wednesday, but Enid didn’t want to burden her best friend with expectations. Wednesday wasn’t a birthday celebrator, and while that was really hard for Enid to grasp, it was just something she had to compromise on. 

But Thing might surprise Enid with a cupcake and a party in his room, which would still be more than her parents ever did to wish her a happy birthday.

“What kind of snacks do you like?” Enid asked, genuinely curious because she never saw Wednesday eating things like popcorn or chocolate or chips or ice cream, and surely she had to like something.

“The kind that makes others squirm,” Wednesday answered, and that wasn’t really an answer, but it was enough for Enid to let it go.

A waitress approached their table, wearing a maroon blouse that was half tucked into black pants on her left side, and held up by a belt. The silver color of her belt buckle matched the chain attached to her left pocket and the dragon necklace around her neck. A bit of ink was visible where her blouse didn’t fully cover her arms and her chest, but not enough for Enid to see what kind of tattoo she had.  

Oh, God, Enid thought when she suddenly realized where her eyes were. It wasn’t intentional to sit there staring at another girl’s chest, but unintentional or not, it was really rude and inappropriate, so Enid quickly looked elsewhere. And when she did, she noticed a pair of cute black platform boots with bat wings on the girl’s feet that looked like something that Wednesday would have in her shoe closet but wouldn’t wear in public to hide how cute she was.

The last thing Enid noticed about their waitress was her black ponytail, sweeping back and forth across her lower back as she reached their table. And the girl’s polite smile, which seemed more sincere than just practiced for 5-star reviews and tips.

“Good to see you again, Wednesday-san,” the waitress greeted Wednesday, bowing her head.

“Konnichiwa, Yuzuki,” Wednesday replied with a short nod. “I have missed your family’s spicy salmon rolls.”

“We make them extra spicy for you, heatseeker,” the waitress – Yuzuki – winked at Wednesday.

Yuzuki looked like she was their age, and from what Enid had gathered so far, Wednesday was a regular at this place, or at least regular enough to have a budding friendship with the pretty waitress, who had a nickname for Wednesday. Enid wondered if Wednesday had a nickname for Yuzuki, too, but Wednesday didn’t really bother with calling people anything other than their name unless it was an insult. She did give Enid one, though.

Yuzuki smiled at Wednesday while she put down a pitcher of water and two glasses. “Who is your companion?” Yuzuki asked, glancing at Enid, who was a teensy bit uncomfortable with Yuzuki leaning over their table.

Up close, that dragon necklace looked like it was probably made of real silver, and even though Yuzuki was approximately one foot away from Enid, it made her shift toward Wednesday until she couldn’t scoot any further. And Enid didn’t mean to use Wednesday as a human shield, but she wasn’t painfully allergic to silver like Enid.

But even so, it was a silly move because Yuzuki was closer to Wednesday, which made her closer to Enid now, too.

“This is my friend, Enid,” Wednesday answered while she said nothing about Enid leaving basically zero space between them.

“Best friend,” Enid corrected with a proud smile. “And roommate.”

Wednesday moved her eyes to the side, staring at Enid in a way that told her she should probably scoot a few inches to give Wednesday her personal space back.

“Your loss,” Yuzuki smiled at Wednesday before looking Enid up and down, who had opted to wear a pink top with black pants and suspenders. “Or not,” Yuzuki added, winking at Wednesday again. 

Yuzuki turned around, swaying her hair as well as her hips as she walked away.

It was nice that someone seemed eager to be Wednesday’s best friend, but that spot was taken, and Enid was never giving it away. Wednesday was hers, and if Yuzuki or anyone else wanted her, they would have to fight Enid because she was not letting Wednesday go. Not ever.

Wednesday turned her head. “Was that necessary?” she questioned in a whisper.

Enid frowned. “Was what necessary?”

“Telling her that we are roommates.”

“Oh, that,” Enid replied, blinking when Wednesday clenched her jaw and breathed harshly through her nose. “Um, I guess not,” Enid admitted, pouring herself a glass of water to gulp down. “But we are roommates and that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Was Enid’s outfit not okay? She didn’t want to embarrass Wednesday by looking like she couldn’t afford to eat here, although her pants and suspenders were new, paid for by Wednesday when they went shopping a week ago. Maybe Enid should have picked one of her dresses, but she thought the suspenders looked neat and different. Good different. Plus, Enid had always liked seeing other girls with an outfit like hers.

Wednesday’s jaw relaxed. “Yuzuki’s culture is not like ours,” she shared with a deep exhale. “She thinks we are fornicating.”

As soon as the last part of Wednesday’s sentence came out of her mouth, Enid choked on her water.

Okay, Enid shouldn’t have said anything, but how was she supposed to know that their waitress with the killer smile would think that they were being physically intimate with each other? Roommates were super common at boarding schools and in college, for outcasts and normies alike. And it was popular beyond education, too, because tons of young adults rented a space together to cut costs, which Enid definitely needed to do in the future if she ever wanted to save enough money for a place of her own.

“Should I move to the other side of the table?” Enid offered, just to make Wednesday more comfortable and to stop Yuzuki and her family from thinking that they were more than friends.

Not that it was a bad thing if people mistook them for a couple – Enid wasn’t homophobic, and it would be flattering if people thought that she could pull the prettiest girl at Nevermore – but she doubted Wednesday would like people to think that they were dating.

Wait, was Yuzuki into Wednesday?

“Don’t move,” Wednesday said, so staying still it was. “I can’t teach you if you do.”

Enid’s lips parted in a silent gasp as she connected the dots. “You mean…?” she asked, wriggling two fingers to mimic chopsticks.

Wednesday raised a brow. “We may be here a while,” she commented dryly, and for a second, she smiled.

“Hey,” Enid laughed, smacking Wednesday’s thigh.

“Oh no,” Enid whispered when Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly. “Wednesday, I’m—”

“Not in trouble,” Wednesday interrupted. “Yet,” she added with a smile that was as disturbing as it was cute.

Enid really hoped she hadn’t hit Wednesday too hard, though she shouldn’t have hit her to begin with. It was meant to be light and playful, and it felt light, but judging by the look on Wednesday’s face, it was probably the kind of slap that might leave a bruise.

Halfway through her second glass of water, Yuzuki came back with a black slab full of sushi and a bowl filled with wasabi. Enid hadn’t ordered anything yet, and neither had Wednesday, but she must have told the owners what to prepare when she made their reservation.

It was a bit odd that a table was reserved for them when the rest of the restaurant was empty, though.

“Enjoy your meal,” Yuzuki said with a kind smile. “On the house, heatseeker,” she winked, and yeah, okay, she definitely liked Wednesday.

Enid could tell Yuzuki what being roommates actually meant, but it was probably better if she didn’t. Besides, if Wednesday wanted Yuzuki to know that it was all a big misunderstanding, she would personally tell her. Wednesday didn’t mince her words, after all.

When Yuzuki left them alone so they could eat, Enid realized there weren’t any chopsticks on the table, or another kind of cutlery, for that matter. She thought Yuzuki forgot, but then Wednesday pulled out her personalized chopsticks, so maybe they were supposed to bring their own, or maybe Yuzuki assumed that they did.

“May I?” Wednesday asked, gesturing at Enid’s right hand.

Enid smiled at the sweet request. “Always,” she answered, raising her hand for Wednesday to take.

Wednesday’s fingertips brushed against Enid’s as Wednesday placed her chopsticks between Enid’s fingers. She watched while Wednesday adjusted her grip, and Enid was happy to learn, but it felt very different from holding a fork.

“All you need is practice and determination,” Wednesday claimed while she moved Enid’s hand with hers, toward the slab full of food. “With those, you can master this skill,” Wednesday added as she helped Enid pick up the first piece of sushi.

“Sure thing, sensei,” Enid replied, though what she really needed was luck and Wednesday’s steady hand to guide her like she was doing right now.

Enid grimaced when Wednesday dipped the sushi in the bowl full of wasabi, drowning it in the spicy green stuff that would burn Enid’s mouth. Thankfully, Wednesday didn’t move Enid’s hand to her mouth because there was no way she would open it if she did. Enid watched as Wednesday wrapped her lips around the food, and Enid couldn’t believe that Wednesday was really sharing her chopsticks. But she was because when she helped Enid to grab another piece of sushi, Wednesday brought it close to Enid’s mouth.

Enid was completely fine with it, though. She wasn’t grossed out by Wednesday, who had kindly licked off the remnants of wasabi from her chopsticks after eating the first piece of sushi, so Enid didn’t have to hunt down Yuzuki for a glass of milk. Yuzuki was right to call Wednesday a heatseeker. When it came to food, anyway, because other hot things, like the sun, Wednesday didn’t like so much.

Just when Enid opened her mouth to eat, Wednesday let go of Enid’s hand, without a heads-up. 

Enid dropped her sushi, and in a reflex, caught it with her other hand, using one of her claws. “Ta-dah!” she exclaimed while she lifted it to her lips, devouring it in one delicious bite. “How’s that for skill?” she grinned, proud of herself for being smooth for once.

“You are ridiculous,” Wednesday whispered with a twinkle in her eyes. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“And yet you took me to your house,” Enid pointed out, retracting her claw. “So I might be ridiculous,” she admitted with a nod and a smile. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

***  

They wandered around long after the sun had set and turned the sky into a black canvas, but Enid didn’t mind because there weren’t any cars driving by or other people walking the same streets as they were. It was as if everyone else had gone to sleep already, which made it a lot easier for Enid to focus on Wednesday, whose heartbeat was super steady.

Enid opened the plastic wrapper from the salmon wrap she bought with the little bit of money she had. “Do you want a bite from my wrap?” she asked, hoping she made the right decision by not choosing the veggie wrap she had in mind first.

Wednesday’s favorite food seemed to be sushi, so it was a safe bet that she liked salmon. Unless it always had to be spicy, which Enid’s salmon wrap wasn’t, because it just had cream cheese and lettuce. But Wednesday needed to have some dinner as well, and while she never claimed she was skipping it, their usual dinnertime had gone by roughly two hours ago. They did have multiple courses at the restaurant, though. With Enid eating most of the food because she could stomach way more than Wednesday could.

“It is yours,” Wednesday answered while she made a left turn.

“I bought it for both of us,” Enid replied as she kept up. “Please, Wednesday?”

Wednesday stopped and took a bite before resuming their walk.

Enid smiled at the small victory and took the next bite before offering it to Wednesday again. They ended up sharing it equally, and when it was all finished, Wednesday took the plastic wrapper from Enid and stuffed it into one of her pockets.

Enid wanted to ask Wednesday where they were going exactly when they ended up at a park. There were grey pebbles on the ground, placed under and around a bunch of equipment. There was a swing set, the kind with black rubber seats and steel chains, and a merry-go-round with a black platform and white handles to hold, and a parkour with black monkey bars, and a steel slide that would get too hot to use in the sun, and a long log turned into a see-saw with no handles to avoid falling off, and a huge black spider net to climb.

“This playground has been abandoned for a while,” Wednesday shared as the one lamp out of four that wasn’t broken provided just enough light. “They wanted to tear it down, but my father bought the property.”

“Whoa,” Enid gasped, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you have your own playground,” she said while she took it all in, realizing once again how different life was for people with lots of money to spend. “Back where I grew up, I pretty much had to fight someone to go on the swings.”

Wednesday stepped onto the pebbles. “In San Francisco?” she asked, turning her head to look at Enid.

“Yeah,” Enid confirmed, nodding. “Back…oh,” she trailed off when it clicked that she hadn’t referred to it as home, and maybe it wasn’t anymore. If it ever really had been her home to begin with.

“Honestly…I don’t think I can call it home if you aren’t there,” Enid confessed out loud, chewing her lip. “You are my home, Wednesday.”

“It is settled then,” Wednesday replied, resuming her walk. “You are staying with me.”

“Yeah,” Enid exhaled softly. “Maybe I am,” she agreed, because it wouldn’t be so terrible to live with Wednesday, and maybe Enid’s parents wouldn’t care if she didn’t spend the next break with them either.

Enid followed Wednesday to the merry-go-round, and Enid wondered if Wednesday’s father had changed the playground to match Wednesday’s color scheme or if it was always this black, white, and grey. Odds were that it was the former because playgrounds generally had way more color, like red, blue, green, and yellow, and Wednesday’s father seemed to adore Wednesday very much from what Enid had observed. Even more than Mrs. Addams, who loved Wednesday dearly, but strangely hadn’t said a word to her during breakfast. Except for good morning when she walked in with Enid.

“Hold on,” Enid warned when they hopped onto the merry-go-round, putting one foot on the ground to get it going.

Enid used some of her strength to spin the platform, but as soon as it took off, Wednesday stumbled and bumped into Enid, arms flailing until they settled around Enid’s waist.

Enid lifted her foot to slow the merry-go-round down. “I meant hold on to the bars, but sure, this works,” she chuckled, putting one arm around Wednesday to steady her better. “I got you, Wens,” Enid promised, looking into Wednesday’s eyes.

Wednesday was cute when she scowled. “Don’t make me push you,” she grumbled, and she could try, but she didn’t have that kind of strength.

“Fair warning, I’m pulling you down with me if you do. So, don’t you dare.”

“Dare?” Wednesday replied, and right then, Enid knew she fucked up.

“Wens…”

Chapter Text

Wednesday procured a black hairbrush from the plastic bag Thing had brought her, per her instructions, while everyone else was occupied filling their stomachs with her mother’s breakfast. It was a small change, but a necessary one, to avoid further contact with Enid’s pink monstrosity of a brush.

“Here,” Wednesday spoke up as she placed it on Enid’s nightstand. “If you prefer white, however, I can exchange it for one,” Wednesday offered, glancing at Enid, who was in the midst of rummaging through her clothes.

“You really hate color, don’t you?” Enid commented, as though that wasn’t obvious since the day they met.

Yes, one happened to despise color when allergic to it, although Wednesday’s condition seemed to be the object of mockery and disbelief. Wednesday didn’t comprehend why everyone outside of her family treated it as a joke when she had it listed on her medical files, which was why, at Nevermore, they provided her with a custom uniform to avoid being sued for negligence.

Wednesday could present Enid with the evidence, but those files were private and contained more than her roommate needed to know. Enid had panicked before at the prospect of Wednesday dying, and therefore was better off not discovering that she was in a coma three years ago due to kidney failure. Unfortunately, Wednesday’s restful sleep as she awaited death’s embrace ended when she woke up with a new kidney from an anonymous donor and a scar on her abdomen.

“Do you want my help with your hair or not?” Wednesday asked while she grabbed the hairbrush.

Enid dropped the t-shirt she held in her hands. “Yes, please,” she answered, smiling in that way that made Wednesday feel strange, but she found she disliked it less as time went by.

“Good little wolf,” Wednesday responded, watching as Enid’s cheeks changed from rosy to red.

It was fascinating how such a small, unintentional praise elicited an immediate reaction, though people generally hungered for praise in any form they could receive it for the dopamine it released. Praises were considered rewards, and it was no surprise to uncover that Enid was fond of them. Wednesday would keep that in mind, but even with this new knowledge, the key was to be genuine and only offer praise where praise was earned.

“Come here,” Wednesday beckoned while she approached her bathroom.  

“Coming, roomie!” Enid called after her with the enthusiasm of a puppy receiving a treat.

Wednesday sat on the edge of her tub and gestured at the space next to her as she waited for Enid to follow suit. Despite her instructions, however, Enid sank to her knees in front of Wednesday. The proximity, combined with the sight of Enid smiling up at her, caught Wednesday so off-guard that she lost her balance.

Wednesday tried to remain upright by using her free hand to hold on, but didn’t reach far enough and missed her mark by an inch. She tipped backward and braced for the inevitability of a collision between the back of her skull and the marble inside of her bathtub.

“Gotcha,” Enid said while she gripped the front of Wednesday’s shirt, sparing her a possible concussion. “Sorry about the claws,” Enid added with a grimace as she steadied Wednesday, leaving little holes in the cotton of her shirt where Enid’s claws retracted.

Enid bit her lip and blinked. “I didn’t get you, did I?” she asked, ducking her head when she should be holding it high.

“Your reflex is immaculate,” Wednesday assured, using the back of the brush to lift Enid’s chin. “Never apologize for showing me your wolf,” Wednesday told her roommate, who should be proud of her abilities.

“Now get up,” Wednesday requested with a soft yet urgent tone. “You belong beside me, not beneath me.”

“Okay, but can we sit elsewhere?” Enid responded, chewing her lip as she braced her arms on either side of Wednesday’s legs. “Because if you fall again, I’ll probably end up on top of you,” Enid explained, which would be most inconvenient and intolerable.

Enid was welcome to put her sharp claws on Wednesday without asking, but not that hot body of hers. Being smothered by Enid’s heat once was a punishment that Wednesday did not wish to suffer twice. In hindsight, she should have allowed Enid to sleep on the floor on their last night at Nevermore, but Wednesday couldn’t do that to her injured friend. She would rather endure Enid cuddling with her every night than watch Enid in pain.   

Wednesday nudged Enid’s arm with her leg until she moved. Once Enid was no longer keeping her in place, Wednesday got up and walked over to the chair where Enid often put her clothes to keep them off the bathroom floor. Wednesday placed the chair in the center of the room, in front of the mirror, and gestured at it with her hand until Enid caught on.

Enid ran her fingers through her hair. “Wednesday?” she said softly while she looked at the mirror.

“Yes, Enid?” Wednesday responded, waiting for Enid to drop her hands so she could brush her hair.

“Do you think my blue hair dye is starting to wash out?” Enid asked while she turned her head a little, twirling a blue lock of hair around her finger. “My pink hair dye kind of looks more vibrant, doesn’t it?” she added as she turned her head to the other side, lifting a lock of pink hair.

The blue streaks in Enid’s hair had indeed begun to fade since they left Nevermore, but they were visible enough from where Wednesday was standing. Personally, she preferred the softer shade, considering it allowed Enid’s eyes to stand out more than her hair, proving that color wasn’t always hideous to look at. Enid didn’t need synthetic chemicals to color her hair and paint her face when she had such natural beauty underneath.  

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Enid whined as she fidgeted with her borrowed nightgown, loaned to her by Wednesday as an apology for pushing Enid off the merry-go-round last night. “Ugh, I knew I should have sprung for the more expensive brand like I did with the pink, but I didn’t want to spend all of my money.”

“Your hair is fine, Enid,” Wednesday sighed, confused how such a pretty and popular girl could succumb to foolish insecurities. “You don’t need artificial dyes to enhance the natural beauty of your soft locks.”

Enid’s hands stilled. “Did you just compliment my hair?”

“It’s not a compliment, it’s—”

“A fact?” Enid interrupted with a chuckle and a smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard that excuse before.”

“Call it what you want, Enid. It won’t diminish my opinion.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with your opinion, art thief,” Enid chuckled, warm and pleasant.

Wednesday knew that particular compliment would come back to bite her in the ass, but it was the truth. Enid’s features were captivating and art-inspiring, and the longer Wednesday had her company, the stronger she realized she needed to rewrite her book to correct her portrayal of Enid.

Enid was bound to break many hearts, but if anyone ever broke hers, Wednesday would stab theirs.

Wednesday brushed Enid’s hair and secured the hairpins so Enid could return to throwing her clothes around haphazardly, and hum that song she couldn’t get out of her head.

“I’m going to remove my stitches,” Wednesday announced, deciding that it was time to do so before the remaining four ripped. She exerted herself too much on the monkey bars last night and tore two of her stitches, but it didn’t matter, considering they had to come out anyway.

“I’ll be out once I’m finished,” Wednesday said, and she expected Enid to move, but she didn’t. “Enid—”

“I heard you,” Enid interrupted while she leaned against the sink. “But I’m not leaving.”

Wednesday could argue that Enid was too squeamish to stay, but her roommate was too stubborn to listen, and Wednesday didn’t have all day. She grabbed her medical kit, which she had left on her side of the sink, and exposed her left shoulder.

“Um, Wednesday…,” Enid whispered, working her jaw. “Why is that side loose?”

“I pulled two stitches recently,” Wednesday answered while she began to rip out the other four.

Wednesday’s skin was sore and slightly red, but the wound had healed enough for it to start forming a scar.

“Seriously?” Enid huffed while she crossed her arms across her chest. “You pulled not one but two of your stitches? And you didn’t say anything?” she commented, narrowing her eyes at Wednesday.

Wednesday looked the other way, swallowing at Enid’s stern tone and darkened gaze.

“Unbelievable,” Enid muttered, shaking her head while she ran a washcloth under the faucet. “Come here,” she sighed as she wrung out the washcloth before turning to face Wednesday.

Wednesday took a step closer and remained still as Enid did the same. Blue eyes searched Wednesday’s with an unspoken question, perhaps to inquire how she had torn her stitches exactly. Wednesday could tell Enid, though she would rather not sour Enid’s memory of the fun they had yesterday.

Enid dabbed the lukewarm washcloth against Wednesday’s shoulder, drawing a sharp exhale out of her mouth.

“Are you okay, Wens?” Enid asked softly, lowering the washcloth.

Wednesday had noticed Enid calling her that once in a while since last night. It was unusual, but tolerable, as far as Enid was concerned. If anyone else were to repeat it, however, they would end up without a tongue to speak, considering the nickname belonged to Enid and Enid alone.

***   

Spending the afternoon outside, while planned, wasn’t going the way Wednesday had in mind. But when Enid suggested breathing in fresh air in the garden, Wednesday grabbed a black fleece blanket from her room and followed Enid out. Soon, Enid’s birthday would come to pass, and Wednesday could resume her daily schedule without giving in to Enid’s spontaneous whims.

“No, no, no,” Enid said while she cupped her hands around a daisy. “You can’t eat the bee.”

Wednesday sat cross-legged on her blanket, steering clear of the grass to avoid staining her black and white striped leggings, as well as her dress, which was suitable for dry cleaning only. She could have changed into a pair of previously stained clothes from her trunk in the storage room, though the smell of blood would draw unwanted attention and concern from Enid.

Keeping Enid happy was imperative to ensure she had no reason to leave. Wednesday wasn’t good at making friends, but she had connected with Enid, and Wednesday needed her to stay, even if the exposure to color slowly killed her. Oddly enough, however, Enid made Wednesday want to delay her date with death, for she could not protect Enid if she didn’t roam among the living with her.

“Nyxie, no,” Enid huffed as she kept Nyx away from the bee she tried to grab. “We do not eat our helpful little friends,” Enid continued, and she was right, though not in the way she thought. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve read that their venom is fatal to you guys if you get stung,” she added, which was right.

Bee pollen and honey were safe for Nyx and Erebus to feed on, but living bees were not. Wednesday would have intervened if Enid hadn’t, who continued to grow more tolerable, and made an effort to learn about sugar gliders beyond what Wednesday had shared with her.

“I’m putting you in time out,” Enid said while she placed Nyx on the blanket with Wednesday.

“Okay,” Wednesday spoke up, sparing a small smile. “You may co-parent my children throughout the duration of your stay,” she relented in a belated response to Enid’s request. 

Wednesday wasn’t above using Nyx and Erebus as an incentive to keep Enid around. The stronger their bond, the better, so if Enid wished to be a mother-figure to them, she could be. Sentimental attachments were paramount to someone as soft-hearted as Enid, who yearned to tether herself to others. Wednesday had no such desire in the past, until she lost Enid as a roommate and was overcome by sorrow.

With that memory seared into her brain, Wednesday reconsidered her decision to urge her parents to find an interior decorator for Enid’s room. Wednesday would rather torch every vacant room than watch Enid move out again. It was strange how infectious friendship was, changing Wednesday’s perspective, but it didn’t feel wrong to let Enid in.

“You’re letting me co-parent your kids?” Enid responded while her face lit up like the stars at night, bright and beautiful. “Really?”

“If you solemnly swear not to refer to them as furbabies.”

Enid nodded. “I accept your terms and conditions.”

“Welcome to the family.”

Enid squealed. “Just so you know, I’m mentally hugging you right now,” she said with a blinding smile while she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Ridiculous,” Wednesday whispered, giving in to her urge to smile. 

“Your ridiculous, remember?”

“Vividly,” Wednesday swallowed.

Enid took out her phone and pranced around the garden while she took a number of pictures of her surroundings as well as herself, posing for each one. Wednesday did not doubt that Enid would share several of them on social media, for her followers to see and comment on with silly emojis and grammatically inaccurate opinions.

Wednesday watched as Enid leaned against the tree and held her phone up with one hand while she made a peace sign with the other. Wednesday failed to comprehend Enid’s obsession with photos that didn’t pertain to images of a crime scene, but at least Enid wasn’t distraught over another message from her mother, whom Wednesday found out had donated some of Enid’s clothing she had left in San Francisco.

Not that Wednesday had intended to read the latest conversation between Enid and that hag of a mother of hers, but Wednesday had happened to stumble across it last night when Enid left her phone in the bathroom after changing into Wednesday’s nightgown.

“We should take a selfie of us,” Enid suggested as she rushed closer. “Just one picture,” she insisted, batting her eyelashes.

“Very well,” Wednesday relented, though she refused to smile or say cheese. “You may take one.”

Enid sat down next to Wednesday and lifted her arm before putting it down again.

“Is it okay if I move closer?” Enid asked, though she didn’t have those reservations yesterday when they went out for lunch.

In fairness, Wednesday presumed it was the silver that Yuzuki was wearing that made Enid move, although it didn’t explain why she shifted closer to it rather than further away. Unless she knew that Wednesday was hellbent on protecting her, even if she had to shove Yuzuki to keep her distance from Enid.

“Just get it over with, Enid,” Wednesday answered while she leaned her side toward Enid’s to appease her.

“Okay…,” Enid smiled as she held up her phone. “3…2…1,” she counted, and then a flash went off.

How considerate of Enid to warn Wednesday about that detail.

“Wanna see the pictures I took?” Enid asked, and the first answer that came to Wednesday’s mind was no.

Enid moved her finger across her screen and gasped when a picture of Wednesday was revealed, which appeared to have been taken last night. She was at the playground, lying on top of the monkey bars, where she smiled down at Enid, who had told Wednesday that there was no way she had the strength to pull herself up on bars she could barely reach. Wednesday was aware of Enid holding her phone, but Wednesday didn’t know she had used it to take a picture of her.

“I meant to swipe the other way,” Enid groaned. “You weren’t supposed to see…”

Wednesday blinked. “You took a picture of me smiling?”

“I can delete this one, if you want,” Enid offered, hovering her fingertip above her screen. “Because I should have asked your permission first,” she added, and Wednesday would have preferred that, but then she wouldn’t have smiled, considering she never did when someone took a photograph of her.

Enid was the first to capture one of Wednesday smiling, and she could instruct her to delete the dreadful evidence, but it was a part of a good memory which Enid seemed intent on preserving.

“You can keep the picture,” Wednesday decided, for now. “But do not share it with others.”

“I swear I’ll never show it to anyone. You can trust me, Wednesday. I would never share you.”

The feeling was incredibly mutual. Wednesday didn’t want to share Enid either, especially not with that leech or some idiotic boy.

Enid scrolled on, showing the new pictures that she took today, including several of Nyx and Erebus.

“I’m totally going to use this one as my new home screen wallpaper,” Enid announced, smiling at the selfie of Wednesday and her. “I’ve always wanted a picture of me and my bestie,” Enid shared while she changed her home screen wallpaper from her standing near a rainbow to the picture of the two of them. 

Yoko had a heart in Enid’s phone, but Wednesday was on Enid’s screen. That had to mean more than a silly pink heart emoji. Plus, Enid swore that they would always be roommates and referred to Wednesday as her best friend, whereas Yoko was just a friend. And Wednesday allowed Enid to co-parent Erebus and Nyx, which Yoko could not offer her.

Wednesday frowned when she felt a light tug at her left braid, and then her right, but it wasn’t Enid. With a sigh, Wednesday realized that her pets were no longer on the blanket. Her suspicion was confirmed when Enid giggled, as if it wasn’t her fault for bringing Erebus and Nyx out in the garden.

“I can give you a hand if you allow me to touch your hair long enough to do so,” Enid offered while she held up her hands. “It’s up to you.”

Wednesday could manage on her own, though she would rather not have to redo her braids by using her technique, where she untied them to shake Erebus and Nyx out of her hair. It was an undignified sight, and too messy for Wednesday’s liking.

“Fine,” Wednesday relented, betrayed by her own children. “You may help me.”

Enid knelt on the blanket and leaned in close. Her breath was warmer than the sunlight, but the strawberry scent of the milkshake she drank earlier, while too sweet for Wednesday’s liking, wasn’t unpleasant.

“Howdy,” Enid grinned when their eyes met.

“Eres ridícula,” (you are ridiculous) Wednesday whispered while she fought her urge to smile, to hide her weakness. “¿Qué me estás haciendo?” (what are you doing to me) she wondered quietly, sticking to Spanish so she could speak without being heard.

“Um…Wednesday?” Enid said as she backed up, holding Nyx and Erebus in her hands.

“Yes, Enid?”

“Ridícula means ridiculous, right?” Enid translated accurately, though that one was easy to decipher. “You have a nice accent, by the way. And a lovely voice in general, no matter which language you speak.”

Wednesday’s stomach flipped at the unprecedented flattery.

“I need to go to town,” Wednesday announced as she got up. “Will you look after Erebus and Nyx while I’m gone?”

“I’d be happy to babysit our kids,” Enid responded with a smile and a nod. “But don’t disappear too long, okay?”

*** 

Wednesday walked up to Thing’s piano, opened the wing, and placed the small trunk carrying her purchases from her outing this afternoon inside. Thing wouldn’t mind, and it was one of the few places where Wednesday’s mother and her curious little brother wouldn’t snoop around. Wednesday’s room belonged on that list, and while Pugsley knew better than to set a single toe inside, Wednesday couldn’t say for certain that her mother wouldn’t.

With Enid around, setting up traps to deter intruders was not an option, although her presence did have its advantages. Wednesday hid Goody’s book in Enid’s colorful suitcase to ensure her mother didn’t torture Thing until he gave it up. Wednesday’s mother wouldn’t go near Enid’s belongings or threaten her, not when Wednesday had made it clear that Enid was under her protection and therefore untouchable.

Wednesday glanced at her cello, which she told Enid she would play for an hour while Enid listened to music in her room. Wednesday sat on her chair and wondered if Enid was propped up on her bed, singing along to her music while her legs danced through the air.

Wednesday shook the mental image of her roommate and positioned her cello between her legs. She turned the sheet on her music stand in front of her, skipping pages until she found the one she was looking for. Wednesday reached for her bow and started playing an old favorite of hers.

“Come on, baby,” Wednesday sang as she followed the notes, moving her bow. “Don’t fear the reaper.”

Her father chose that unfortunate moment to walk in, clapping as he entered the Echo Chamber – named for its acoustics, which enhanced any musical performance. Wednesday did not recall providing her father with a verbal invitation of any kind to witness her play, and promptly paused at the intrusion.

“Bellísima, my little tormenta,” her father said, kissing the tips of the fingers on his right hand. “I haven’t heard you sing since that storm we chased for your eleventh birthday,” he reminisced with a smile. “You have your mother’s talent.”

“I enjoyed it when the pastor fainted after the storm swept away the church,” Wednesday responded, remembering well how bystanders had called her a blasphemous girl and told her she would go to hell.

The lightning that struck that night amidst the storm was marvelous. It was the only birthday Wednesday had willingly celebrated, and when a rooftop came down on Pugsley’s head, Wednesday sang a rendition of ‘Another One Bites The Dust’. Unfortunately, her mother insisted on digging him out, ignoring Wednesday’s suggestion to return the next morning to look for his remains.

“Do not speak of this with Mother,” Wednesday requested as she put her cello aside. “I am not interested in harmonizing at the next burial in our graveyard.”

“I won’t say a word,” her father promised, locking his lips with an invisible key.

Wednesday noticed her father approaching her with open arms and quietly stepped into his embrace. Her father was soft, but he was one of Wednesday’s favorite people. And normie or not, her father was special and meant more to Wednesday than she was capable of saying.

“Father, I need your help,” Wednesday spoke up as she waited for the one-sided hug to be over so she could move her arms again. “It’s…imperative.”

“What is it, my little storm cloud?” her father asked, and of all the nicknames he had given her, storm cloud and tormenta – the Spanish word for storm – were Wednesday’s favorite.

“Can you pick up a refill of my allergy cream and pills?” Wednesday requested, and she wished she wouldn’t have to ask, but her prescription was running out at an alarming pace. “It appears my allergy is getting worse,” she divulged while she thought about the situation with Enid’s lipstick.

Wednesday hadn’t broken out into hives that night, so the two pills she took an hour prior to the unbidden touch must have worked long enough to wash off the evidence. However, something had gone wrong for Wednesday’s body to react the way it did. Perhaps the damage was entirely internal from the pink color entering her pores, poisoning her from the inside out.

“I’ll ask your mother,” her father said while he finally let go, but if Wednesday wanted that, she would have done so herself. “She keeps a supply in our bathroom, and she never goes anywhere without your grandmama’s cream.”

Wednesday wasn’t aware that her mother did that, considering she never mentioned it whenever she handed Wednesday a new bottle of allergy pills. She had always assumed that her mother picked up her refill on the last day when her bottle was supposed to be empty, if she stuck to one a day, which Wednesday had not.

Her father’s information shone a new light on the matter, but it didn’t change anything.

“Mother and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” Wednesday responded, although she believed her father was aware of that fact and used her health as a crutch to force a conversation between them.

It was a futile attempt, of course. Wednesday had said what she needed to, and now it was up to her mother to decide whether she wanted to accept a raven or push her away. Either was fine, though Wednesday would hate it if their family tie ended up severed. Her mother may have failed her, but at the end of the day, Wednesday would put her life on the line to save her mother, as she would for every Addams, and for Enid.

Wednesday swallowed, but the lump that had formed in her throat refused to go away. “I need one more favor,” she asked her father while he was still there.

“Anything for my little bombita.”