Chapter Text
The prospect of Nevermore was a mixed bag. While she didn’t like the prospect of going to her parents’ alma mater she could admit there was a certain appeal to going to a school for people like them. Going to normie schools her whole life had run the gamut of traumatizing to insufferable in all the worst ways. One of the less enjoyable parts of going to this new school, other than the threat of her parents’ shadows was the fact Pugsley would not be immediately attending with her. While she had only been expelled and handed a (dropped) attempted murder charge for their little piranha prank, Pugsley was serving time in a facility for criminally insane youth. Sexism at its finest, giving her the lighter sentence. He’d only be in there for a few months at most anyway. They hadn’t built an institution yet that could keep an Addams in against their will.
If Nevermore was anything like how her cousins who already went there described then she might actually even enjoy her time there. Not that she would ever let her parents know that. She would maintain a firm stance of being completely against the whole thing on sheer principle. She would do what she needed to escape or get expelled. There were other outcast schools she could attend. She didn’t need to go to the one where she would be haunted by the academic histories of her mother and father. Especially her mother. She knew what her mother was hoping. In the circles of society that actually mattered Wednesday was already considered quite popular. Morose, anti-social, apathetic with violent tendencies and a macabre imagination Wednesday was the epitome of charming.
Captain of the fencing team, Queen of the Dark Prom, President of the Séance Society — her mother had made Nevermore her kingdom and now she was hoping to mold Wednesday into her perfect heir. The concept galled her. She didn’t appreciate any attempt to make her anything but herself. Tragic that her mother thought she could do it without Wednesday pushing back. They had been close when she was younger, now she had very little interest in talking to her. They never saw eye to eye about things anymore. The onset of her visions last year had only made her sense of disconnection and need for isolation intensify. Her visions seemed to be largely prompted by contact and the sensations that came with them were disorienting and left her feeling ragged and weak. She had never been exactly fond of touch to begin with, but her newfound abilities made her all but phobic of it. She was not so blind that she didn’t see how this and her increased silence had strained her relationship with her family but there was little that could really be done about it.
While Wednesday had no intentions of being like her mother — to become a housewife and live in some insipid fugue state of hyper-adoration — she would admit that finally being able to fully explore the festering pit of horror that was teen drama and the human emotion of affection was novel and possibly even exciting. The people at her old schools had never really interested her — a few had platonically but never romantically. And even if she had found one appealing she was not going to experiment in affection on someone so beneath her on the off chance she actually did become attached and ended up tragically stuck with them. The prospect of being emotionally bound to someone who listened to Taylor Swift was simply too demeaning to risk it. Nevermore at least was more likely to have people who would have like minds — or minds that could hopefully better appreciate her own. So if she did end up choosing to keep one of them it would at least be a more tolerable arrangement.
She had intended to play the field, let the gnawing horror of a crush split her open like a rib stretcher, and organically dictate her potential romantic obsessions. But while on their tour Enid had delved into the drama of Bianca and Xavier and her interest was piqued. Pursuing either would potentially involve a love triangle or some new drama of her own. They were both popular which in her experience meant there was an inherent amount of drama in their lives and relationships which was an appealing prospect. She was not interested in a romance that did not involve some amount of agony. The entire point of even entertaining all this romantic nonsense was to experience a new level of psychological torment. The old ones were getting dull.
In the end, Xavier won out on gaining her attention for now, as trite as having two girls (or girl-adjacent in her case) in competition over a boy was. Enid had described him as a “tortured artist” which had an immediate appeal. Wednesday considered herself a somewhat dangerous and unstable writer so there was more of a chance for some kind of mutualism to form between her and Xavier. Enid had called Bianca the Queen Bee of Nevermore which had reminded Wednesday too much of her mother and the path Wednesday was so desperate to avoid. She anticipated antagonism would naturally stem from that and likely sink all attraction between her and Bianca swiftly. She couldn’t help that she was allergic to popularity chasers, oppressive social hierarchies, or being crammed into a mold. But who knew, maybe that would only stoke later fires. Hate and love were separated only by a knife’s edge.
Their fencing duel had certainly been charged with something. Sadly for Wednesday the determination and contempt that had fueled her challenge to Bianca had curdled into self-pity and disgust after. Wednesday wasn’t used to defeat and she was a miserable loser. She had left fencing practice humiliated and positively seething. The gargoyle had been an almost welcome way out of having to deal with the aftermath of her public shaming on her first real day. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. It would have been a cop-out anyway.
Waking up to Xavier in the Infirmary had been a tease with the electric chair. She looked him over with a critical eye, now closer she could see he was certainly more attractive than she’d originally thought. She enjoyed how long his light brown hair was (longer hair always ended up more unkempt), how skeletal his frame was, the dark circles under those eyes the color of dead moss, and the way his resting expression was so sullen. She’d been concerned that he was too pedestrian, that he lacked the kind of macabre charm that mattered but she could see now he did possess it. It wasn’t so obvious as say, Uncle Fester’s striking good looks, but Xavier had the sort of allure a victorian recovering from consumption had along with the kind of odd movement patterns of someone who was simply too long to be allowed. His features odd and shifting from unimpressive to striking almost from moment to moment. So in the end he was decidedly pleasing to the eyes.
There was something undeniably romantic in a more classical sense about the notion that they had both saved each other’s lives at different times, even if she still left the need to disparage his own rescue. It was the kind of thing that lead to life debts and made her think of tragic ends met on grand adventures for the sake of people who didn’t deserve such loyalty. She hadn’t realized before that this Xavier was Xavier Thorpe. Xavier Thorpe the boy she and Pugsley frequently tormented when they were dragged to events or dinners or she was in some way forced to interact with other outcast children. He was so utterly unrecognizable compared to his younger self that the possibility they were the same person never even crossed her mind.
The Thorpes and Addams family had had a relationship for while now, however outside of events to which they were all invited she hadn’t really been personally subjected to it. It was another thing contained primarily to the sphere of her parents and Grandmama. She supposed that wasn’t quite true anymore now that she was going to school with Xavier. She remembered him being reasonably fun. He had been sensitive and with a melancholy sensibility she had enjoyed. A good mix of morbid but not so jaded that he was impossible to torment. She had enjoyed his company back then reasonably enough. He’d certainly been more tolerable than most of the children she had been subjected to.
So far he hadn’t been put off by her macabre demeanor or abrasiveness so perhaps there was hope he could supply fodder for a nice life-destroying obsession. He was handsome, tolerable, and vaguely interesting at the moment. History-changing obsessions had been founded on less. Maybe she would get a chance to take some ideas from Annie Wilkes’ playbook. She had been wanting to use sledgehammers more and perhaps snapping and holding her favorite artist/delusion-based paramour captive could be her version of happily married. That felt like having her cake and eating it too, having a torrid romance without becoming her mother and succumbing to the bleak life of a housewife. A real monkey’s paw kind of twist to things. The bats in her stomach were riotous at the prospect.
Regardless, the encounter gave her something to share with Enid. As Wednesday understood it, part of the pleasure found in debasing oneself with amorous emotions was to share and discuss them with peers. These conversations were important for allowing for more doubt, misconception, or ill-placed confidence to grow in your mind and make the romantic process more harrowing to endure. Enid’s tendency towards shrill screams, love of gossip, and maniacally peppy nature were already signs she would be a perfect partner with which to engage in these teen rituals. Wednesday had only just met the girl but she just knew that when she recounted the tale of Xavier saving her life and waiting by her bedside Enid would make her ears bleed. She could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of possible hearing loss.
In a strange twist, she ended up using the recounting of her near death to cheer Enid up after their little maudlin heart-to-heart. Which also went to prove that Wednesday could in fact cheer someone up unlike Enid’s claim otherwise. An act she was frankly loathed to commit normally but she did so enjoy proving people wrong. Enid’s squeals had proven to be as piercing as she’d anticipated and Wednesday relished in the agony and visceral desire to flinch away from the flailing girl.
“Wow that’s just soooo—“ She made a high-pitched sound and flailed her hands again. “I mean it sucks you almost died and stuff but it’s so cool he like, saved you and wanted to talk and stuff! Xavier is like, one of the most popular boys in our year! Do you like him? It sounds like he might like you!”
“I currently haven’t found any reason to wholly dislike him, save he might be a bit too blue-blooded for my taste. Other than that he hasn’t offended my senses so far. He might even have some worthwhile qualities. Visually at least.”
Enid grinned. She began to pace, wringing her hands in delight as she did. “This is so cool. I hope he does like you— see, I have this like, HUGE crush on his bestie Ajax and if it all worked out it would be SO cool if we could all go on like, double dates and stuff together! Oh and maybe he could help get Ajax to notice me!”
“The idea of going anywhere with you on a double date is the most viscerally horrific thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” A beat. “I can’t wait.”
However, Wednesday’s capacity to tolerate Enid’s cheer quickly waned, exhaustion set in and they readied for bed. Once she was safely ensconced in her bed she let her mind return to the dead farmer and the sense that something was indefinably wrong with Nevermore. Pleasant thoughts and curiosities that lulled her into a deliciously restless sleep.
Wednesday was still of two minds about escaping Nevermore. On one hand, she stood by her previous claims about not allowing herself to be chained to her parents’ legacy and her desire to be free of the industrial education complex. She had even considered reaching out to the normie who had offered to drive her during her failed escape attempt earlier in the week but the talk with Enid stayed her hand. Her mother had made it clear family support during her escape would not be an option. If she left it would mean a life on the run or possibly a different school if she was apprehended.
If she managed to escape Nevermore it would be the 9th school under her belt and she imagined any school willing to be her 10th was bound to be unpleasant. She was under no illusions about how she had gotten into as nice a school as Nevermore with her track record. Both of those options would mean no chance of a truly miserable double date, no sharing gory tidbits of fixation over nail polish, and no watching teens damage themselves psychologically over pointless titles. Yes, theoretically those were all things that could still happen at another school but there was no guarantee of that. Here however they were pretty much certain.
In the end, she decided to wait, to bide her time when it came to her escape. She would maintain an acquaintanceship with the normie boy and thus maintain access to a car but see what painfully trite teen drama inflicted itself on her while she waited for Ms. Weems’ focus to move elsewhere. Either she would find Nevermore gave her enough to entertain herself and she would stay or the heat from her last escape attempt would have cooled off enough to better ensure her next try was a success. She could be patient when she needed to be, especially when she could find ways to service multiple schemes at once.
She and Enid went to the mandatory “fun” that was the Jericho Harvest Festival together. Even just walking beside Enid was its own kind of agony, her sugar pop presence like an acid slowly eating through Wednesday’s skin. It was part of what she liked about Enid, what miserable company she was. Bright, loud, overly energetic, and far too social — she was an irritant of the highest order. Every interaction was a walk down a tightrope of pleasurable self-inflicted torture and utter aggravation. They stopped at a dart-throwing booth after Enid cooed over the stuffed prizes the booths offered for the 80th time that night. Wednesday resolved to finally get her one so maybe she’d shut up about them when Xavier joined them.
“Jeez, you get any better at this, you’ll be taking home a whole pack.”
Wednesday didn’t turn to look at him though she noted his presence as intensely as one would a predator’s. Or prey, in his case. “Pandas don’t travel in packs. They prefer solitude.”
“All right.” He replied, she could hear the wince. “Subtle hint taken.”
With that, she flashed her gaze over at him for a brief moment. That had not been the intent of her comment. She had simply wanted to correct his statement, not imply she was uninterested. That was quite literally the opposite of her goals involving him. The flutterings of panic started as she began to try and formulate a way to salvage this blundered interaction. Thankfully Enid was an excellent wingman.
Enid snorted. “Well, wolves do. Stick with us Xavier. Wednesday is like, super good at this stuff. She can get you a prize too if you want!”
Wednesday turned to him fully just in time to see a small lopsided smile quirk on to his face. It did something deliciously vile to her insides. “You’re getting Enid a panda?”
“I’ve always wanted to enable someone’s addiction. Though enabling hers does mean I run the risk of being suffocated in my sleep someday. At least a panda’s coloring is less physically painful to look at than the rest of her fuzzy army.”
He grinned then, huffing out a staccato laugh that was more breath than sound. She liked that. Liked that he didn’t laugh as loudly and defined as others did. It made it more bearable to be around — which was an important factor to consider as she sorted out who her potential romantic victims might be.
“Well I’ll take whatever the next booth gives out— I don’t think you’re gonna get a second stab at this one.”
The attendant running it brought over a truly massive stuffed panda that was half Wednesday’s size. Enid immediately hugged it to her in a death grip with an excited squeal. Maybe that quip about being killed by a mass of stuffed animals hadn’t been so inaccurate. Regardless they left the stall to prowl the carnival grounds once more, Wednesday catching Weems’ eye as they did. She looked suspiciously at Wednesday but with a cautious hope at seeing her with her peers. She’ll let the older woman have it for now. Lull her into a false sense of security while Wednesday schemes.
While she certainly intended to win Xavier something now that it’d been put on the table Wednesday herself was more interested in the rides. These traveling attraction kinds tended to be ricketier than those in theme parks. Maybe one could fall apart while she’s on it or a festivalgoer would get severely injured on one. That would really make the whole night worth it. She thinks as they’re walking about she sees the boy from the Weathervane — Tyler— loitering around but she doesn’t put much thought into it. She’s already neck-deep in nonsense between Enid and Xavier, she’s not going to try and add another nuisance to the equation.
After a little meandering and a few minutes of Wednesday having to do the demeaning task of hand-feeding Enid the funnel cake she insisted they get because she also insisted they don’t sit down but keep walking — they sidled up to another stall for Wednesday to dominate. This one had the least stuffed animal options she’d seen which was explicitly why she picked it. She handed the plate of funnel cake over to Xavier who had been picking parts of it off the entire time like a vulture she’d been Enid’s slave. Their hands touched as she did, hers small and corpse cold while his are large, thin, and warm. She thinks about his slender fingers momentarily before she wipes her hands off on her pants and gets to tossing rings. Naturally, she succeeds without flaw, and out of all the cheap, ugly prizes he could pick he goes for a shitty little bag of colored acrylic “pirate” gems. At least it’s not another monstrosity like Enid’s panda. He slides them into his pocket with a grin and Wednesday feels like she’s accomplished something.
Everything Wednesday knows about romance is from her psychology books, being subjected to her parents, and any bits that might have crossed her path while taking in various media, or from observing the world. She knew she was by far no expert and the fact that her interpersonal skills were shaky did not help her. She did however understand that the first steps were geared generally around lulling the target into a sense of fondness for you and comfort in your presence. Outside of her one misstep at the start, she had been successful so far in keeping her target engaged and amused. Xavier had been pleased the majority of their time together and seemed eager to engage with her. Then again he had been the one to come and engage her from the start. Perhaps he had already set his sights on her? It might make her plan easier if he had. As much as she enjoyed a challenge this was her first foray into seriously considering trying to hone her craft in flirtation, an easier mark was probably best.
Eventually, they decided to take a turn on the Carousel. It’s not one of the rides she’d prefer to go on but the carousel is probably the only one outside of the Ferris wheel they can get on without having to find a babysitter for Enid’s panda and she refuses to be stuck with the pink demon at a great height and no escape so the Ferris wheel is out. Enid sat in the sleigh with her black and white albatross in the seat beside her while she and Xavier sat on the horses just ahead of it. Wednesday caught him sneaking glances at her a few times, his smile had not left his face for hours now, only waxing and waning like the moon. Her heart began to beat dangerously. Perhaps he did like her? Was her wretched world of emotional turmoil going to start so soon?
When they finally got off that miserable thing he continued his carrion behavior. All night he had been slowly getting closer to her, like a vulture circling a particularly rancid carcass. At first, the funnel cake had been his excuse to get within her sphere. Now they were almost brushing arms as they walked. Something she found both revolting and exhilarating. He’d engaged them both in conversation all night but his focus had always been more obviously on Wednesday over Enid. Xavier seemed to smile the most when she gave him even semi-positive attention. The werewolf girl looked positively diabolical with glee when Wednesday looked over at her to try and confirm her suspicions about Xavier’s intent. Enid waggled her eyebrows at her when she met her eyes. So it seemed Wednesday was correct in thinking Xavier had some interest in her. The bats in her stomach attacked themselves.
“So Xavier, do you um, know if Ajax is like, totally definitely single or like, interested in anyone at all oooooor…”
Frankly, Wednesday was impressed she’d taken this long to finally ask him about Ajax. She’d lasted far longer than Wednesday had anticipated, though it was a blunt fumbling mess of a question. Xavier just gave her a knowing grin and that breathy punched-out laugh.
“Nah, no girlfriend. He’s just coasting, hanging out. Pretty sure though that if a cute werewolf girl asked him out he’d be way into it.”
Enid squealed again and buried her face in the panda. Wednesday couldn’t imagine how her smile had gotten wider, she’d already been doing that for hours. Wasn’t her face tired? Wednesday’s was just from the proximity.
“Is there anyone you’re interested in Wednesday? Anyone you’d like me to put in a good word with as well?”
He was trying so hard to act casual and nonchalant asking that even she can tell he was masking his interest in the answer.
“Possibly. Though putting in a good word won’t be necessary.” Since you seem quite interested already. She holds that last part in, it’s only been a week she’s been here and this is only her first attack on his defenses. It’s far too early to make such a bold move and potentially miss out on some quality nail-pulling pining, or worse ruin her plan before it’s even really started. Even so, her cold dead stare bores into him, willing him to understand her meaning and it seems like he does when he opens his mouth to reply—
Then she’s bumping into Rowan and being knocked into the next century by a vision.
Without thinking she’s pulling herself out of someone’s arms and chasing after him, completely ignoring the shouts of her companions and single-mindedly following the boy into the woods thinking only of the vision of his untimely and gruesome death. Until now she’d never tried much to change or interfere with her visions, content to simply note them and catalog the results when they came as a means of learning her capacities. But the same instinct that made her take on Bianca after she’d humiliated the boy in fencing was kicking in now. She had no idea if she could do anything to save him but she would at least try. Maybe that would be enough to put off future guilt.
Turns out the road to hell really was paved with good intentions after all. Rowan was either deranged or better informed about the future than her own visions had left her. Either way, it didn’t change the fact he had her pinned against a tree as he choked the life out of her. Her vision was beginning to black out around the edges when the creature saved her, savaging her would-be murderer — a trade she wasn’t so sure she was glad about. She locked eyes with the thing for a brief moment before the sound of voices pierce the night air and it raced away again into the woods. She crawled over to Rowan’s body, still incredulous at the turn of events. When Xavier and Enid found her she was holding the picture of herself and staring at Rowan’s mangled form.
The two stopped a bit away from her, Enid muffling a scream in with both hands.
“Oh shit…” Xavier breathed. He walked closer to her in a daze.
By the time she was standing, he was beside her staring uncomprehendingly down at Rowan’s broken form.
“We need to alert the authorities.” Wednesday was working on autopilot.
Xavier’s arm wrapped around her to gently usher her away and back to Enid and the festival beyond but his eyes stayed on Rowan’s body until she flinched away from his touch. He looked at her briefly, his hand coming to hover just behind her instead before his gaze was drawn back to Rowan. The boy had been his roommate. How long had he known him? Normally she’d make some snide comment about men and their delicate sensibilities but she was too tired and bewildered to do it. The adrenaline was wearing off and vision and near strangulation were starting to get to her. She eased into the hand at her back. For now, she’d just be happy for the physical support. She had no interest in collapsing before they made it back to school.
“Yeah… Right. We’ll tell Weems.” He replied distantly.
She looked up at him. “Don’t you mean the sheriff?”
Xavier made a face. “Yeah, I don’t really trust the cops to look after outcasts.”
She supposed she understood that. Cops in general weren’t worth much more than target practice. They certainly didn’t have a good track record looking after outcasts. Still, she got the sense he wasn’t just speaking generally, but about the Jericho police force in particular.
“I’ll run up ahead and get Weems. You help Wednesday okay?” Enid was clearly anxious to get away from the body. She really was a puffball.
“Yeah, no prob.” He replied. It was ridiculous how they were talking like she wasn’t there.
Enid dashed to civilization leaving them to crawl back in her wake. Neither a vision nor a strangulation had ever made her feel so chewed up as this had. Perhaps it was the combination of the two? She’d certainly never had a vision, run a small race, and then been choked out before, and contrary to the belief of many she wasn’t superhuman. As much as she hated it she did have physical limits. As they walked away Xavier gave the body a last look over his shoulder, before occupying himself with fussing over her. About halfway back they came across Enid’s abandoned panda, she must have discarded him when they chased after Wednesday to run better.
“Her bear…” Wednesday bent slowly and picked him up. She must truly be in a stupor if she was planning to carry back her roommate’s bear.
She was just making note of that before things started to get even darker and farther away. Xavier’s voice was muffled as her body slackened and the world faded into black.