Chapter Text
At least the electric shock of the vision ripped Wednesday away from the torturous birthday party.
Enid was trying so hard and it was too easy for Wednesday to deflate the girl’s exuberance with her own deadpan disinterest. Who that knew Wednesday possibly thought she’d appreciate a birthday party? Let alone a girl who claimed “bestie” status?
She knew Thing’s fingerprints were all over this, but as an Addams, his intent was the suffering that Wednesday was currently experiencing. Touche, appendage.
The gorgon, sweet and stupid as ever, just wanted cake. Wednesday assumed that he and the others were there more to support Enid’s endeavors than out of any misplaced feelings of friendship for her. She’d feel awkward about this if she cared at all about her social standing within the Nevermore pecking order.
Except Xavier. Xavier, who was her top suspect for the murders in the woods and who followed her like a puppy that didn’t realize it would stop getting kicked if it just left the annoyed human alone. Xavier, who decorated her cake and showed up despite being mad at her for sneaking into his shed and asking him to the Rave’n and then going with Tyler when he realized she was lurking around because she thought he was the monster.
So, Xavier being there was weird to start. And he was acting oddly, too. He mumbled some obviously false justification for being there like how he was trying to put it behind him to be friends. And then stood closer to her than he usually did and stared at her as though waiting for her to… do something.
And then the inscription. And then the vision.
There’s Goodie again, being enigmatic and frustrating. She showed Wednesday a set of overgrown wrought iron gates but wouldn’t say where they were or why they were important. You’d think that a woman dedicated to saving outcast-kind from harm from monsters–of the human variety or otherwise–would be a bit more concretely helpful.
Though in every other vision with Goodie, the Addams ancestor was the only one who could interact with Wednesday, she now felt a presence at her back. Warm and close.
Goodie looked at something above Wednesday’s head. "The path of a Raven is a solitary one. You end up alone, unable to trust others, only seeing the darkness within them.”
“Bullshit,” Wednesday heard from behind her. Xavier. What was he doing here? How was he here?
“Excuse me, young man?” Goodie Addams was clearly not used to being spoken to that way.
“I said bullshit. Wednesday doesn’t have to be alone. And putting these ideas in her head is just reinforcing her own misguided belief that she’s better off without the people around her.” Xavier spoke passionately. As Wednesday watched him with a craned neck, he placed one hand on her shoulder and gesticulated in that way of his with the other.
Goodie held her chin with a haughtiness Wednesday honestly recognized from the mirror. “I see you are a raven, too, young man. You must have much power to insinuate yourself into this vision. That doesn’t mean you have rights to my bloodline.”
Xavier’s other hand came down to her shoulder, so he was now embracing her with just his hands. She felt supported and seen.
“Is there anything more you can tell me about the murders and how this all connects to Crackstone?” Wednesday pushed the conversation back to a topic she was both much more comfortable with and that felt a little more pressing.
But Goodie didn’t. And so the vision cleared away, leaving Wednesday laying in Xavier’s lap on the floor of the crypt. She quickly extricated herself and stood. Xavier got to his feet more slowly.
After enduring Enid’s concern and the others’ sidelong looks, Wednesday managed to chase everyone off. Except Xavier. When they were alone in the crypt, she wheeled on him. “How did you do that?” Her voice held as much accusation as question.
Xavier held his hands up in surrender. “I saw all of that play out in a dream a few nights ago. Well, the part about the gates and your ancestor being a bitch to you. I wasn’t there in the dream. I thought maybe if I was touching you when you went into your vision, I could get in, too, and intervene.”
“Intervene?” Wednesday hated repeating what others said like this but her head was swimming in too many directions for greater eloquence.
“What she said is bullshit. I’m a raven, too. We aren’t meant to be alone. Just because she ended up with a shitty life and trust issues doesn’t mean you have to, too.” Xavier argued with vehemence and, with that passion aimed at a target that wasn’t her, she enjoyed it. He ran hot to her cold, she wanted to touch that ferocity.
She thought out loud, putting the pieces together. “So you came tonight despite what I did to you and stayed close so you could invade my vision.”
Xavier laughed, a dark almost humorless sound. “I did also catch you and keep you from smashing your head.”
She knew what he was referencing. She was not about to thank him this time, either. So instead she blinked, slow and catlike.
He huffed again. “Anyway, if you still want to listen to Little Miss Loneliness, at least consider spending enough time with me to figure out how I just managed to get into one of your visions and change the outcome of one of mine.”
He might be a bit petulant for her taste, but Xavier did know how to dangle an interesting carrot in front of Wednesday. How did he gain access to her vision? Was it through touch? His foreknowledge through his own vision? Goodie said he’d have to be pretty powerful to have barged in like that.
Xavier must have seen the wheels turning in her mind behind the stony expression on her face because he smiled. That same teasing, self-assured smile as when he thought she wanted to ask him to the Rave’n. It made Wednesday want to bite his lips and wipe the expression from his face.
“Don’t mistake my academic curiosity as an overture of friendship,” she ground out.
“I would never,” he said, but that smug smile belied his words.
“How do you trigger your visions?” she asked. If they were going to work together, there was no time like the present to do so. She made herself comfortable on the crypt floor, sitting criss cross on the cold stones.
Xavier followed her lead, but he paused long enough to grab the cake and two forks. He set the plate on the floor between them, then handed the little molded chocolate grim reaper to her.
“I have no control. They come to me in my dreams. I’ve gotten pretty good at telling the garden variety dreams and nightmares from visions. But I can’t make them happen or stop them.” He paused and dug into the cake.
Wednesday took a bite and savored the bitter dark chocolate and the grainy sugary texture of the frosting. “So the dreams you’ve been having of the monster…?” she prompted.
Xavier’s guard was immediately up. “If this is your way of trying to figure out if I’m a killer, I’m leaving right now. You can fuck right off with the accusations.”
Wednesday wasn’t sure she could cross Xavier off her list, but the fact that he was willing to give her access to his mind and visions sure did go a long way towards declaring his innocence. “I’m not. I was genuinely assessing your control. I presume from your warnings to me that your visions don’t always come true.”
Placated, Xavier ate while he talked. “They’re rarely literally true. Sometimes they are super symbolic or just show one thing without context. Sometimes they show me a scene but then I’m able to change it, like what happened tonight.” It was kind of disgusting to watch a teenage boy masticating like that but strategy riveting to watch the chocolate line his teeth and how the texture in his mouth changed his enunciation. “What about you?”
It was against Wednesday’s nature to offer information about herself. Potential fodder for an enemy. But she understood quid pro quo. She did a better job of alternating between eating and speaking. Her Grandmama would be proud of her manners. “I get visions when I touch things. But I can’t control it, to make it happen or to stop it. Other than my conversations with Goodie, they are always literally true scenes of the past or future.”
Xavier hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting that our psychic abilities are almost exactly complementary to each other.”
She hadn’t noticed that and chided herself for Xavier picking up on an interesting connection before she could. She took another bite of cake. They continued to discuss theories and how to test them until she realized that the cake was finished.
Wednesday had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Sitting on the crypt floor, eating dark chocolate cake while having an intellectually interesting conversation. This was one of the best birthdays she could remember.