when she was one, wednesday addams discovered the word love.
it had been one of the first words she learnt and unsurprisingly enough, it had been taught to her by her hopeless romantic of a father, gomez, and being wednesday, she’d instantly despised it, despite not knowing what it’d meant.
after learning the meaning, she loathed the word even more.
love required relationships. relationships was meant vulnerability, capability to be hurt.
so she promised herself she’d never love anyone, or anything, for that matter.
and she hadn’t.
the only time she’d shown the faintest hint of affection had been towards her pet scorpion, and considering the brief nature and brutal end to that relationship, it’d only bolstered her belief that relationships were painful.
so she’d stopped doing relationships entirely.
or at least she hadn’t, until nevermore academy, or more specifically, until enid sinclair.
naturally, being wednesday addams, she’d dismissed the feelings as meaningless, treating enid as she normally did despite the fact that her treacherous heart practically doubled in pace whenever around enid.
it hadn’t been until the night wednesday was whacked in the head with a shovel that she realized that she was, in fact, in love with enid sinclair.
it was already well into the night when wednesday came to.
the first thing she registered was the pain.
a dull throbbing ache that she felt in her skull, not at all the kind that she enjoyed alongside the chaffing bonds of metal against her wrists, forcing her arms to hang loosely from above.
she opened her eyes. her vision was disorientingly hazy and blurred, not at all like what she was used to, from what was most likely a concussion.
candles were strewn everywhere and the room looked eerily familiar, but in her somewhat stupefied state, she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before. gothic architecture adorned the walls and there was a large stone coffin situated in front of her. crimson light poured in through a circular hole in the ceiling, bathing the coffin in a sinister carmine glow.
a figure moved in front of her and her vision cleared enough for her to recognize the place as crackstone’s crypt and the figure as tyler.
“kind of a deja vu thing we got going on here, huh?”
in spite of her situation, wednesday felt a prickle of annoyance.
“except i won't cry and whine like a child.”
she felt a twinge of satisfaction upon noticing the flicker of irritation dance across his features,
“tyler, go wait by the boat.”
the command came from thornhill, or rather, laurel gates, from somewhere far away.
“yes. listen to your master and be a good little hyde.”
he promptly left, walking into her on the way.
“i have to admit, that shapeshifting stunt with weems almost worked.”
thornhill’s voice directed her attention to the tomb, which had six or so jars of various body parts floating in some undisclosed liquid of which thornhill was screwing lids onto.
“but as my father always said, if you wanna outsmart an outcast you gotta out-think em.”
she stood, dusting off her hands.
“you know, we have roots that go all the way back to joseph crackstone.”
thornhill stared at her expectantly, as if she was expecting her to clap.
“so you keep from a line of psychotic killers too.” wednesday said, her voice as cold as ever,
her words had seemingly struck a nerve in thornhill. her expression changed from somewhat smug to angered.
“joseph crackstone was a visionary, dedicated to protecting normies from outcasts until his life was cut short but your ancestry goody addams, and then to add insult to injury, they stole his land to build that abomination of a school.” she took in a deep breath and walked away from wednesday, back towards the tomb, “but throughout the centuries my family has remained committed to crackstones mission. my brother died serving that cause. i decided to take a different approach, the supernatural.”
she fixed the last lid on the jar and wednesday felt her eyes travel across them. there was a head, two toes, what appeared to be a liver, and several others.
then came the realization.
“tyler’s been collecting all those body parts to resurrect crackstone.”
her eyes widened, betraying just the tiniest hint of emotion. thornhill noticed, a smile on her face now,
“the one man who nearly succeeded in eradicating the outcasts.”
“you can’t wake the dead. believe me, i’ve tried.”
in response, thornhill removed a book lying on the coffin and held it so that wednesday could see. the book had a cover of what looked like leather and inscribed on the centre was a golden cross.
“i believe your ancestor, goody addams would disagree.”
wednesday’s eyes widened upon recognising it her thoughts racing as she put the pieces back together.
“goody’s book of shadows. you’re the one who stole the original from pilgrim world.”
thornhill smiled again, although wednesday couldn’t tell whether because her plan was finally in motion or because wednesday was finally catching up.
“it wasn’t enough for goody to kill crackstone, she had to curse his soul too.”
thornhill grew closer, enough so that wednesday could see the expression of almost maniacal joy behind her eyes. everything made sense now, except a single question that festered in her mind.
“what does this have to do with me?”
a pause.
“my dear wednesday, you are the key. your arrival set the chubby wheels of my plan in motion. goody sealed crackstone in his sarcophagus with a blood lock, only one of her direct descendants can open it.”
you are the key.
that was what goody had said, wasn’t it?
“a living descendant on the night of a blood moon so i bided my time and i made you feel special until you were ready to be sacrificed.”
wednesday felt the witty retort she’d come up with die in her throat. thornhill reached for the chain binding her wrists together and began to drag her towards the tomb, but before she arrived, the door to the crypt flew open.
it was enid, dressed in a light pink robe, thing perched on her shoulder, a mix of concern, bewilderment and fear written across her face. shock was added to the mix as she took in what was occurring in front of her.
a short pause followed in which no one seemed sure what to do. then wednesday came to her senses.
with a tremendous effort, she lashed out with her foot, planting a firm kick on thornhill’s shins and knocking her to the ground.
enid rushed forwards to help, offering her a hand, half expecting wednesday to shrug her off. to enid’s surprise, wednesday accepted.
“wednesday, are you-” enid gestured wordlessly towards her forehead,
“i’m fine.” came wednesday’s response, taking in a shaky breath, then, “we should go.”
“but, like,” enid began, concern lacing her voice, “are you alright?”
“i’m fine.” she repeated, taking a step towards the door, “we should-”
a shuffling sound alerted her to thornhill’s resurgence and she turned and saw her, unfortunately looking relatively unharmed, a gun pointed at enid.
crack.
the gun flashed. a small explosion.
perhaps it was out of instinct. perhaps it was out of love. perhaps it was out of both.
either way, there was definitely no logical thought behind her next actions.
she heard enid’s scream before she felt it. a stinging sensation in her chest.
she blinked, a small gasp escaping her and her hand jumping up to the injury.
then she felt the pain.
it wasn’t enjoyable. it collected around the hole in her chest, growing more and more excruciating by the second until abruptly, it stopped.
no, not just the pain. everything. every sensation ceased, to be replaced with a feeling of sheer, total and utter numbness.
then her knees gave away and she fell to the floor with a dull thud.
“WEDNESDAY, NO!”
a scream. enid’s scream. louder this time.
another crack followed by a metallic ping, then a clattering sound as the bullet fell to the ground.
the sound of footsteps pounding away.
a muttered “fuck” from thornhill.
the thud of a door swinging closed.
“fuck. wednesday? oh fuck. wednesday?”
it was enid, her voice shaky, as she bent down besides wednesday. she felt a warm hand remove hers from the injury, then heard enid gasp.
“it’s bad, isn’t it?”
“no. you’re gonna be fine. you’ll be alright. we just have to get help.” enid diverted her attention to thing, “get help.”
“it’s too late, enid.” wednesday said, her voice quiet,
enid lowered her face so that they were eye to eye, iridescent cerulean meeting dark brown.
“no it’s not. you’re okay wednesday, you’re going to be alright. you’re not dying. i’ll make sure you won’t.”
enid made as if to stand, but wednesday grabbed her wrist, tightening her grip,
“wait.”
enid stopped.
“can you stay?”
enid looked at her in confusion,
“you’re hurt. badly. you need help.”
“thing’s already gone.” came wednesday’s response,
a pause followed, then, quietly
“i don’t want to be alone.”
another silence.
“okay.”
an unsaid agreement seemingly passing between them, enid sat back down beside her, their fingers now interlaced.
a moment passed. whether it was seconds, minutes, hours, or days, she didn’t know, or care.
it was nice, being with enid.
she felt her grip begin to slacken.
little flecks of gold began appearing in her vision, her dazed mind vaguely registering them as stars.
“wednesday?”
it was as if enid was right next to her, yet a whole world away when she heard it,
wednesday opened her mouth to respond. she didn’t know what she was going to say, but she knew she was going to say something. anything to comfort the girl who’s arms she was presently dying in.
wednesday let out a cough. a feeling of pain in her chest that shouldn’t be there, and something else. something different. something she’d felt before.
it was something she couldn’t quite put into words. but it wasn’t hate, disappointment, annoyance, guilt or blame. they weren’t there anymore. she couldn’t feel them anymore. the feeling was all she felt.
it was complex. thorny. sad. happy. calming. exciting.
it was words. emotions. memories. everything.
three words formed in her mouth. eight letters filling her mind.
but before she could get anything out, she felt her eyelids grow heavy.
she saw everything grow dark. heard everything fade to silence. felt all feeling begin to fade from her body.
but enid stayed, her fingers intertwined with wednesday’s, right there, at the end of all things.
enid stayed, and so did the stars.
ba dum tssss