Chapter 5
It was funny how the worst part of these nights was always the walk back. Like the walk of shame, if your sneaky link was a mad scientist with a hobby of torture and an aptitude for sadism.
You didn’t really mind the needles or the electricity, you just hated that she had any kind of power over you. Any form of vulnerability, whether it was forced on you or not, was not ideal. You could never lead anyone to believe you had any weakness of any kind. Not because you weren’t weak or didn’t need help, but because if they looked close enough there was the tiniest sliver of possibility they’d see that you liked it. You liked being weak because it meant the right person would have to come along and save you.
Thornhill was not the right person. She was just another threat, another entity praying on your downfall. She wasn’t special; She was the same as everybody else.
Your bones ached as you trudged up the stairs, and you gripped the railing tightly so you could help pull yourself forward with your arm. Virtually every joint in your body was stiff and your head was pounding. Your muscles were sore and breaths were shallow. You loved the feeling, but hated the shame.
Sleep tugged hard at your eyelids and by the time you reached your door they were half closed. Fumbling with your key you stumbled into your room and closed the door behind you. The bottom desk drawer was sliding open a moment later as you rummaged around for some pills. You took four, swallowing them down simultaneously. Your throat burned as they seized every opportunity to slow their descent and constrict your trachea.
The mattress squeaked when you flopped onto it. Your hands grasped at the comforter a few times in a feeble attempt to pull it over you, but they succumbed to sleep. Your brain was finally quiet.
It was hours later when you opened your eyes. Golden light pooled into your room through the cracks in the blinds, something that only happens in the late hours of the afternoon. Your body no longer ached, discomfort replaced with numbness. There was another knock at the door.
You rocked forwards and stood with a muffled groan, carefully navigating towards the sound with your tired limbs. The moment the door was unlocked Weems was inside, re-locking it behind her and guiding you gently backwards with her hands on your shoulders. It only took a slight application of downward pressure to coax you into a seated position on the side of your bed as she took one as well.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, still holding your shoulders as her eyes studied your face for any answers your appearance could volunteer.
“Fine,” you replied, forcing her to drop her hands as you shifted away from her and rubbed your forehand.
“I know these sessions aren’t very… pleasant… but I assure you she knows what she’s doing and truly cares—-“
“Listen, I get why you allow this to go on. Just please stop explaining it to me like you’re doing it for my own good.”
You massaged your face and sighed into your hands.
“Thornhill tells me you two are making huge strides. That she’s seen not just changes but improvements—-“
“Yeah because things have really been improving, haven’t they?” You shot back, standing up.
“You’re young. You don’t yet understand the magnitude of what she’s trying to achieve, or the countless—“
“I understand that something isn’t right; More red flags reveal themselves everyday and still you chose to bury your head deeper in the sand—“
“Careful, Rae. My tolerance has ends. You knew there were conditions upon your admittance, and that some would be quite demanding. I am more then sympathetic to your situation, but it puts me in a difficult place.”
“I’ve done nothing but cooperate since I’ve transferred! You promised you would judge me off my merits. Not my fathers.”
The air seemed to leave the room for a second, and Weems’s seething face glanced around quickly before returning to you. Even you felt uneasy.
“I’m warning you, Y/N, and I will not warn you again. I know more than you think. I know you lack control. I know you were in the woods last night because you could sense that boys fear. I know that if Thornhill hadn’t shown up in time, he very certainly would have met his demise. The only thing I’m uncertain of is whose hands his blood would stain. The monsters, or yours?”
Your jaw tensed hard but you couldn’t find the words to respond. She was right, after all. Everything she said was true, but she was missing the point. You crossed your arms, tightly gripping your chin in frustration.
“So by all means, label me a villain. So long as you grow up, take a long look in the mirror and remind yourself who you are, and what you’re capable of. I’ve judged you by your actions, and your actions alone, exceptionally fairly all things considered.”
You stared her down, but lost. With a huff you sunk back onto the bed, and her face softened a degree.
“Please, get some more rest,” she said, reaching her gloved hand over to hold your wrist. “I’m doing everything I can from my end, but while there is a monster outside of these walls it’s imperative you lay low. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire of something you didn’t do.”
You nodded, stifling a yawn as you rubbed your eyes. It was all just so exhausting. You wanted to let your guard down for once but it felt like it was always you against the world. No one would understand. The only person that seemed to be doing anything about anything was Wednesday, and she clearly wanted nothing to do with you.
“Don’t worry about your classes for the remainder of this week; I told Ms. Sinclair you weren’t feeling well but you would stop by her room at some point to pick up your coursework.”
Weems stood up and made her way to the door.
“Now I expect you stay away from the case from now on. You’re lucky those scratches were so shallow, last night easily could have ended much differently had they not been.”
You didn’t respond. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before continuing.
“I assure you, the sheriff and I are working tirelessly to reach the bottom of this. In the meantime, I trust you’ll use this recovery period wisely. Goodnight, Ms. Brooks.”
She pulled the door closed behind her, and you were left with nothing but silence and your own thoughts. You lay on your back as the golden splotches of light slowly grew darker, shades deepening until the room was a heavy blue. You glanced at the digital clock on your desk.
7:48 PM
That sealed your decision. You threw your feet over the side of your bed and stood up to collect your things. You shoved your binder and a notebook into your backpack and zipped it up, slinging it over your shoulder before checking your reflection in the mirror.
Your hair was a bit messy and matted down by sweat, but was otherwise surprisingly clean and still partially styled from the night before. You were in the clothes Thornhill had provided you earlier, which happened to be small, white shorts and a dark green tank top.
It was a skimpy outfit for your usual style and taste, but you didn’t even take the time to put on shoes before fleeing your dorm. You just had to get out of there. You had to be around other living things.
Wednesdays brows furrowed at the sound of the knock but her hands continued to click away at the typewriter. The bed groaned behind her as Enid stirred, followed closely by creaking floorboards and the door swinging open.
“Rae? Is everything okay?”
“Um, yeah, s-sorry for just showing up like this, I wasn’t really thinking. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe go over notes before the botany test… but it’s late, I should probably get g—“
“No, are you kidding I would love to! I am so going to fail that test tomorrow,” she exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you inside. You were caught off guard but filled with relief. It was impossible not to smile as warmth spread through you.
The room was full of soft light cast by flickering candles and orange lanterns. It seemed to be divided in two straight down the middle; Enid’s side colorful and bright, Wednesdays minimalistic and morose.
Enid dropped your wrist and rushed to clean up her space, rearranging one singular pencil before giving up with a defeated huff.
“I’m sorry, I was not expecting guests,” she said, her gaze stuck on the stacks of books and stuffed animals engulfing her desk. “Why don’t we just sit on my bed?”
“Oh, yeah, whatever you want to do is great for me, sorry again for the sudden intrusion,” you assured quickly, not caring if you had to stand outside so long as you were in the vicinity of another human.
“Don’t be silly, I’m like so totally psyched right now. Rae Brooks. Asked me. To study. Eeeee!”
You laughed, waving your hand dismissively as you climbed onto her bed. Crisscrossing your legs you shrugged your backpack off, unzipping the pocket and riffling through it.
“And she’s in your bed,” you pointed out, pulling a notebook from inside.
Enid laughed your comment off with a blush as she settled down across from you.
Wednesday cleared her throat.
“Weems told me you’d be stopping by, but I thought it would be later this week?” Enid asked, ignoring her roommate.
“Yeah, she thinks I’m sick and need to rest,” you say, watching Wednesdays braids as you speak. “But I’m fine.”
The chair screeched as it’s legs scrapped against the floorboards. Wednesday kept her body turned from you as she grabbed something from her drawer, then disappeared onto the balcony. You were staring.
“… good to hear. What did you want to start with?”
“Oh, right, um…” you snapped back to attention, holding your notebook sideways as you attempted to interpret your nonsensical chicken scratch. “How about… chapter three..?” You said, looking at a doodle of a frog eating a traffic cone.
“Ooo yeah, Carnivorous Flora in Central and Southern Botswana, that chapter was a doozy.”
“For real. Even with illustrations I’m confused.”
“I have an idea! Let’s make flash cards!”
And fifteen minutes later not one card had been made.
“Yep, on my life. Why are you laughing? I know it sounds dumb to have a crippling fear of bell peppers but 9 year old me was mad shook.”
Enid squeezed her heart as she doubled over her notebook.
“I don’t—I don’t believe you,” she wheezed between laughs.
“Oh, you don’t believe me? One time a girl at my table cut one open during lunch and I literally passed out, most traumatic shit of my life I swear to god.”
“But how?” She wiped away a tear.
“I think it was the seeds,” you laughed, joining in the joke. Enid’s energy was far too contagious to refrain any longer. Your body was so exhausted but your mind finally felt alive.
“Okay wait I have my three: I captained our team at the Poe Cup, the reason my nails can get so long is because I’m a vampire, and a psychic once told me I’d die happy at the old age of eighty—“
“That one’s the lie,” Wednesday said, the window closing behind her. “You will die alone and inconsequentially tonight in your sleep.”
“Oh come on, Wednesday, you’re being rude to our guest!” She turned to you and whispered, “I’m actually a werewolf the thing about the psychic was totally true,” then continued glaring at her roommate.
“No it’s okay, she’s not being rude,” you assured Enid, but your eyes were trained on Wednesdays back as she busied herself with something on her desk.
A hand scuttled by your knee, causing you to flinch.
“Oh, Thing!” Enid said, cheerfully scooping him up. “What’s the matter?”
The mutilated hand began to sign quickly, and she let him down onto the bed. He tapped urgently on her comforter.
“Ajax said that?”
More taps.
Enid squealed, jumping to her feet and racing to her closet. She appeared a moment later with one arm through a jacket.
“Oh, Rae, I’m so sorry, you don’t mind if I pop out for a minute, do you?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Wednesday answered for you.
“She doesn’t.”
Enid looked at you for confirmation and you nodded. She made an excited chirping noise and pulled you into a quick hug, then skipped out the door. You could hear her giggling all the way down the hall.
Wednesday finally looked at you, but you didn’t see, still fascinated by the sentient hand in front of you.
“That’s Thing.”
Thing extended his fingers for you to shake, which you did graciously.
“Aw, he’s quite charming,” you said, smiling down at him.
“Careful, his ego is already dangerously higher then his IQ.”
For a hand, he looked rather offended.
“I don’t believe that,” you reassured him quietly, a playful glow in your eyes.
Wednesday cleared her throat and Thing jumped. He patted your knee gently before scuttling off the bed, disappearing onto the balcony through a crack the girl opened in the window for him.
“I’m a little surprised you want to be alone with me,” you said after she shut the window.
She looked at you for the second time that night, but this time you were looking at her, too. Her expression was unreadable as usual, but you could sense the emotion beneath the surface. Was it discomfort?
“Did you think I’d be too afraid?”
It was less of a jab and more of a question. Now you felt uneasy, too.
“No… just cautious.”
“You mean the kind of caution that requires me to hold you at knifepoint?” She deadpanned, referencing the first night you almost ended Eugene. You narrowed your eyes, uncertain of where this was going. You got your answer when she flashed the hilt of a dagger in her sleeve.
“I have a lot to say, and I’m unsure how long that lunkhead will distract Enid, so I’m going to be blunt. Before you try, all the exits are sealed.”
She must have caught the tiniest flicker of your eyes towards the window.
“I dropped a melon out of there this morning; It took Thing four and a half hours to retrieve all the pieces.”
“Point taken. Am I really that bad?”
“I’ve interrogated foreign spies that fold quicker then you.”
You made a “not bad face”, shrugging at this new information.
“How did you get to Eugene before me?”
You sighed, running your fingers through your hair and looking away from her. You could hear her slowly approaching.
“I went outside to get some air, and I heard an explosion.”
“Eugene was over a mile away,” she pushed, crossing over the line.
“I could hear him running.”
She was at the edge of the bed now.
“No. You could sense his fear, couldn’t you?”
You looked at her, unable to hide your surprise. Her dark eyes were overflown with intensity as she gazed down at you. She read your mind.
“That night in your car. You could feel my heart rate increase.”
You furrowed your brows, and you could see her grip tighten around the hilt in her sleeve.
“Only, I wasn’t afraid, was I?” She continued, the corner of her mouth turned upwards in a cruel smile as she leaned towards you.
“So what are you?”
You felt lightheaded. You then remembered you had to breath to stay conscious. Your focus darted between her eyes, but the longer you stared the more you were certain you had lost. Your shoulders dropped as you exhaled in defeat, hiding your hands in your face and turning away again.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. Wednesday backed off a bit.
You took in a few breaths, and suddenly it was all so funny to you. You couldn’t help letting out a laugh or two before facing Wednesday.
“Did you know that my name isn’t even Rae?”
Wednesday raised her eyebrows.
“Yup. It’s just my middle name,” you nodded to yourself, tucking your knees loosely into your chest and wrapping you arms around them. “My dad named me after himself.”
You said it like it was the funniest thing in the world. Wednesday looked confused.
“Oh, sorry, no, his name’s not Rae. I guess I should thank him for at least not giving me a masculine name, father of the year everyone! Haha what a great guy.”
You no longer found it very funny.
“My dads name is Azrael.”
Wednesday blinked.
“As in...”
“The archangel, yes.”
It was quiet for a minute.
“I guess my actual father is buried somewhere deep inside the shell of his possessed body, but the odds of ever meeting him seem to be quite slim at this point.”
Like every other interaction she had shared with you so far, this was going very differently then she had anticipated. She gingerly sat down on the edge of Enid’s bed, her mind locked in deep thought.
“I’m—sorry.”
Did Wednesday Addams just apologize to you? You tried to read her face, but it was stoic as she kept her gaze away from you.
“Don’t be silly, it was only a matter of time before it got out. Besides, you more then anyone had a right to know.”
Without warning, her hand shot out from her sleeve and drove the dagger into your exposed calf. You cried out in pain.
“What the hell, Wednesday!” You said through clenched teeth, positioning your leg over the edge of the bed so you wouldn’t get blood on anything.
“I told you I was sorry,” she said defensively, already supplying gauze from her pocket and pressing it around the blade. Your mouth hung open in shock, unable to find the words to even begin to explain how off base she was.
“I had to see how you would react.”
“Oh okay, my fault. This is just your version of a trust fall, I’ll just go fuck myself then.”
“Would you stop squirming, you’re going to get blood on the sheets.”
You heard the window open, and Thing scuttled over the glass and across the floor, coming to wrap his hand comfortingly around your foot.
“Take a deep breath, I’m going to pull it out now.”
You couldn’t even comprehend what she had said yet before a searing pain shot through your leg.
“Hold this,” she said, handing you the knife. Only about a quarter of the blade was dirty.
You sat there for a moment while she wrapped your leg, but a wave of defiance washed over you. If she was going to play games, so were you.
You held in your breath and pushed yourself to your feet, wincing hard but too stubborn to give up now.
“Sit down you fool!” Wednesday hissed at you, her hands struggling to apply pressure over your wound. The sudden change in position caused blood to spurt out and soak what little gauze she had wrapped around your leg.
“Unhand me, wench,” you said, jerking your leg out of her grasp and hobbling over to her side of the room with as much dignity as you could retain. When you reached the far wall, you bent down and coated your palm in blood. Thing still hung onto your foot.
“What are you doing,” Wednesday asked, but it came out as less of a question and more of an order.
“Well, since you clearly believe I have enough of this useless substance to burn,” you replied, standing on your tiptoes and stretching your hand as high as it could go. “We might as well kill two birds with one stone and redecorate a little.”
You pressed your bloody hand onto the wall, smearing the handprint down as you pulled your arm back. You stepped away, admiring your work with your hands on your hips. “What a nice shade, really lightens up the space, don’t you think?”
Thing crawled up your leg and wrapped his fingers tightly around your calf to press his palm into the gash.
“Are you insane,” Wednesday stated through grit teeth. The desk chair screeched behind you.
“Probably not. Hm, there’s an empty space ri—“
You felt two hands on your shoulders, forcing you down into the chair. Wednesday knelt in front of you and continued to bandage your leg, only breaking focus to periodically glare at you.
The silence was less tense then the average botany class. It was surprisingly freeing, talking about your dad and standing up to Wednesday. Even if it was dumb. So dumb. The more you thought about it the funnier it got. You weren’t sure why you had reacted the way you did. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or the pills. Or the blood loss.
“You are such a drama queen,” Wednesday deadpanned, checking over her work one last time before looking up at you through her bangs. Your mouth went dry. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get the last bloody handprint off my wall?”
You scoffed and crossed your arms, refusing to look at her.
“Oh please, you’re not the victim here, Freddy Krueger.”
She seemed amused.
“If you’re going to sulk all night, that chair will be horrible for your back.”
“Yeah cause’ now your worried about my health,” you shot back sarcastically, stifling a yawn.
“You never told me your name.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“If you don’t tell me, I will refer to you as ‘simpleton’ from this point forward.”
Silence.
“Very well, simpleton, your leg should be healed by the end of the month. Considering you refrain from superfluous movement, that is…”
“It’s Y/N,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes.
Wednesdays face softened a bit.
“I really should be getting back to my dorm now, it’s been fun,” you said, bracing your hand on the desk to stand.
Wednesday was already up, almost guarding the way to the door.
“No!”
You squinted. That was too emotive.
“I mean, didn’t you hear what I just said? No superfluous movement.”
“So… what? You want me to curl up on the floor like a dog?”
She blinked.
Was Wednesday Addams asking you to sleep over? No, it couldn’t be. But you really wanted it to be.
“I guess it would be polite to stay until Enid gets back, so I can thank her,” you said, doing your best to sound like you meant it. “Is it okay if I sit here?”
She nodded, and you sat at the edge of her bed.
“Here, let me give you your notes,” Wednesday said, heading over to Enid’s bed. Why did she say it like it was funny?
Wednesday walked back over to you, handing you the notebook.
“Sit on this end,” she instructed, getting on the bed and leaning against the headboard. You didn’t move.
“For your back, simpleton, you have the posture of a newly evolved caveman.”
You still didn’t budge.
“I worded that—inappropriately. What I meant to say is you can support your spine much more sufficiently from this position.”
You smiled, amused by her explanation.
“Would you please just come over here, Y/N?”
It was too hard to stay away any longer. You moved over to sit next to her, extending your injured leg. She leaned forward and placed a pillow under your foot, elevating it as much as possible before settling her head back next to yours.
“Thanks,” you said, stifling a yawn. You were so tired.
Wednesday was staring at your stomach. The bottom of your tank top was pulled up, exposing a small portion of skin and a fraction of the scrapes. She didn’t ask for your permission, reaching out and lifting up the fabric all the way to the bottom of your bra. The scratches were big, but shallow. The cut in your side was scarring nicely.
“If you say, ‘personally, I wouldn’t let that slide,’ I’ll strangle you.”
She pulled your tank top back down.
“I was just making sure mine was worse,” she said, crossing her arms.
You raised your eyebrow and crossed your arms as well, but were too tired to investigate that statement further.
Time passed, at what interval you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was how good it felt to be around Wednesday, the burn in your leg barely an afterthought. It was too bad. The one you felt the strongest for was easily the most impractical one to feel this way about. Couldn’t you just feel this way about Xavier?
Thing clambered onto the bed. Both you and Wednesday were sleeping soundly, her head resting on your head and your head resting on her shoulder. All parties still had their arms crossed defensively, but your faces were peaceful. He took your notebook off you lap and set it on the desk, then climbed up himself and turned out the lantern.