Magic At Nevermore

“So, anything troubling you at the moment?”

“Other than wasting the valuable seconds of my ever-decomposing life on this feeble attempt at psychological probing, no.”

“This is therapy Wednesday, not some psychosomatic interrogation.”

“Funny how often those two tactics coincide.”

Wednesday watched the therapist clamp her mouth shut. Ms. Lindsay was the same woman she met when she and Caspian went into town. She was on the younger side, Wednesday was sure her master's degree hanging on the wall was still warm from the press it came from. Wednesday was honestly quite surprised that Ms. Lindsay agreed to come back after their first session. She was even impressed at her attempts to reach her.

Useless to be sure, but admirable nonetheless.

“Wednesday,” Ms.Lindsay began, clearing her throat. “I'm sure you know that for this to work, we both need to cooperate. Therapy is a proactive activity.”

Wednesday quirked an amused brow. The absolute hubris of these small-town normies. “What gave you the notion I want this to work?”

“Well, your principle certainly does and it's been made quite clear, especially after the recent attacks on the school, that progress must be made in this room. Of course, I'm not pressuring you or anything-”

“What?” Wednesday began in a bored tone. “A therapist trying to make a name for herself potentially having a hidden agenda? That would be utter nonsense. Don't tell me an industry whose consumer demographic consisting of the emotionally vulnerable, could possibly be amoral. That the systems put in place prioritizes the bottom line over its patients, offering its services to those privileged enough to afford them when those who truly need them live below the poverty line? Impossible.”

Ms. Lindsay hung her mouth open, at a loss for words. Wednesday stared at her dully, absentmindedly picking at a hangnail. She could only throw so many dry remarks before they lost their lustre. She had a whole semester, after all, even Wednesday couldn't keep it up for that long.

It was true Weems was more adamant about her therapy than ever. Her first session after the quad attack was the most 'progress' she'd ever made. She for once actually spoke willingly. About what happened rather than how it affected her of course. Wednesday had to admit, recanting everything in excruciating detail was ironically therapeutic.

But Ms.Lindsay somehow still found ways to diagnose her. The minute their session began today, Wednesday was grilled with baseless accusations. She's apparently suffering from PTSD due to the countless attempts on her life, and her 'fear' of Tyler somehow manifested itself into self-destructive tendencies that negatively affect those around her.

She swears that Ms. Linsday was throwing everything and anything at the wall just to see what sticks.

Speaking of, the therapist picked up her jaw. “Let's get back to the Quad-”

“I think we've exhausted that line of thought.”Wednesday cut in easily. “ I've seemingly developed post-traumatic stress disorder. Which in turn, heightened my apparently preexisting antisocial personality disorder and sociopathic predilections. I'm awaiting my medication most eagerly.”

Ms. Lindsay eyed her seriously. “There will be no such prescriptions.” The woman let out a carefully concealed sigh of frustration, suddenly scrutinizing her. “What about your friends? You mentioned the role they played in your survival. You feared for their safety.”

Wednesday tilted her head. She was keen to see where Ms.Lindsay was going with this. “Yes, I feared for their well-being.”

“Was there any reason as to why you'd feel protective over them? A true narcissist wouldn't. Is there something that can't be explained through logic alone?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “If me admitting that I care about them will move things along then yes I do.”

“Wednesday, this isn't an interrogation. You aren't inclined to share anything you don't feel comfortable sharing.” Ms. Lindsay sat motionless, her voice annoyingly neutral.

Wednesday thought about it for a moment, concluding it wasn't that scandalous to say aloud. “I did not like seeing them in danger because of me…It…never bothered me before but after one particular outing last term, it was brought to my attention.”

“And…you came to that conclusion by yourself?”

Wednesday hesitated, recalling the event. “Yes. With some aid from choice people.”

Ms.Lindsay stared at her for a second before leaning forward. “You said last session how your friends, uh-” The woman flicked through the file in her lap.” for some reason tolerate you.'Can you explain what you meant by that exactly?”

Wednesday bit her tongue. She didn't even remember saying that last time so it must've been mentioned in passing. It would seem she underestimated Ms.Lindsay's commitment to her craft.

The therapist's soothing voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Remember, this isn't an interrogation.”

Wednesday opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. She thought about whether she should go with the truth or divert the conversation. But something about Ms.Lindsay's observant gaze told her she wasn't about to get off that easily.

Besides, Wednesday didn't think it was that big of a deal. In shying away from it she'd be admitting the opposite. “All my acquaintances I've made thus far have been out of my doing. Enid is naturally outgoing, so of course she tried to befriend her roommate. Xavier continues to have a weird fascination with me even though I wrongfully accused him of murder. Bianca, well I wouldn't call our…connection friendly, but it's a tolerable competition. And Ajax… well he's there too.”

“And how does that make you feel? Believing that your friendships were..out of your doing, as you put it?”

“Inadequate and undeserving.” Her instant response surprised both herself and Ms. Lindsay. Wednesday knew that her relationships were completely made from a one-sided perspective, but she wasn't aware she held such strong feelings on the matter. So much so, they were quite literally bursting at the seams.

Wednesday cleared her throat. “I've always prided myself on earning my way through life. I don't take freebies well.” She jutted out her chin to accentuate the fact that she was unbothered by her spoken revelation. Because she was unbothered, right?

Ms. Lindsay drew her lips into a careful smile which made Wednesday flush, From embarrassment or rage she did not know. “We are our harshest critics. The more headstrong a person is, the harsher. It's normal to feel like we don't deserve some of the things that seem to just, 'fall in our lap'. If I may infer, is it so far-fetched to suggest that someone of your perspective, would believe that the universe can seem…volatile and random at times?”

Wednesday only nodded out of fear of what she could suddenly blurt out next.

“Well, just like how the worst can so easily happen to us, so can the good. We as humans tend to focus on the negative and quickly discredit the positive.”

“But the universe tends to balance things out in the end,” Wednesday mustered as icily as she could.

Much to her dismay, the therapist only nodded thoughtfully. “It can appear so at times, but it is ultimately up to us. We shape our reality. How you…react to the randomness if you will.”

There was a lull in the conversation. Unlike Kinbot the therapist was frustratingly apt at her job. Wednesday sifted through her mind catalogue of topics she could switch off too. Unfortunately, she was slow on the trigger.

“Would you say that your feelings of inadequacy are in direct conflict with your hyper-perfectionist mindset?”

Wednesday was taken aback. “How very blunt of you.”

The smallest proud smile graced the woman's lips. “I've learned you don't care for anything less.”

Wednesday chewed on the inside of her cheek, breaking eye contact for the first time. “I…Don't know how to… appease others. I never needed to. Never wanted to.”

It was true, Wednesday never appreciated the upside of friendship. She understood that they can provide assistance in a multitude of ways, but so can a henchman. Humans are wildly inconsistent and unpredictable. The spectrum of people spanning from Ajax to Machiavelli was mind-numbingly large. So much so that she decided she was better off not even trying to look for the perfect ally. But she didn't have the perfect friends, did she? After some thought, she found she didn't particularly care. In fact, she wouldn't have it any other way.

“And that inability you have, that hasn't affected you before?”

“No.”

“But it does now?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not enjoy your current relationships?”

“…No.”

“So why is your apparent inability to make friends suddenly bothering you ?” Ms. Lindsay furrowed her brows, staring expectantly at her.

Wednesday shifted in her seat. She definitely underestimated the woman. It seemed that Ms. Lindsay knew about strings Wednesday didn't even know she had. “Perhaps I simply get frustrated when I can't seem to accomplish something right away. That mixed with my previous frustrations at how I obtained my existing peer group...” Wednesday's voice petered out.

“Are you currently trying to make friends?” Ms.Lindsay finished.

Wednesday blinked. She felt her mind tug at a topic she would rather not bring to the forefront. A raven-haired, wand-wielding, topic to be exact. She never considered what she was attempting to do with the boy as 'making friends', but the present revelation was like a slap in the face.

Yes, Wednesday was in fact trying to befriend Caspian.

Yes, she didn't know how to go about it.

Yes, that frustrated her to no end.

Those facts were painfully obvious. Of course, she felt that way. But there was a strange feeling of weightlessness once Wednesday put them in coherent thoughts. Her mind went back to her first attempt which ended as poorly as it could. She remembered feeling angry, humiliated even, but determined to see it through.

But determination can only take you so far if you lack the proper knowledge.

Wednesday brought her eyes back to Ms.Lindsay. “I understand. You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. As a perfectionist myself, it's normal to feel frustrated about those sorts of things. And as a young lady who's gone through all that you have, it can feel like these negative emotions can be dialled to 11.”

At Wednesday's continued silence she began again. “I want you every morning, to list out at least 5 things you are grateful for that are out of your control. It can be as simple as the ability to walk, to the weather, and yes, even your friends. Because when we remind ourselves of the good that can come our way, we not only will attract more of it, but it can lessen our negative preconceptions.”

Wednesday stayed silent, her unfocused eyes staring at Ms.Lindsay. Was it possible that her troubles with companionship were more than just surface-level? That it was more than just preventing her from achieving an end goal? That she actually longed for a connection? Wednesday felt her stomach churn, she was truly disgusted with her present inner dialogue and shoved it to the side. Though, it was hard to ignore the constricting sensation in her chest.

Ms. Lindsay sighed, patting her knees. “With that, I think it's time we take our customary 15-minute break, don't you think?”

Wednesday practically jumped out of her seat, heading straight to the bathroom.

“Oh and one more thing!”

Wednesday stopped mid-stride, cocking her head back.

“I know how hard it is to make friends. My advice is to take the initiative and make the first steps. Respect their boundaries and be yourself. Like therapy, friendship takes meaningful proactivity to work.”

Wednesday paused, before yanking the washroom door open.

Once alone she let out a calming breath. She barely recognized her pensive reflection staring back at her.

Therapy may not be a psychological interrogation, but it definitely felt like one.

Wednesday replayed their conversation over and over again. Specifically her 'assignment'. She had to list various things she was grateful for that she didn't cause. The Wednesday an hour ago would scoff at the idea of trying such an insulting practice, but she couldn't help but seriously consider it now.

Thing hopped out go her bag, scampering to the sink.

“5 things I'm grateful for…” Wednesday murmured curiously, eyeing the appendage.

“Well…I'm grateful for my natural articulation and writing. I'm grateful I was born in a prosperous situation. The fact I'm a relatively healthy person. Did I mention my astute intellect?”

She couldn't help but crack a smile at the annoyed hand who flashed a thumbs down.

Wednesday blew her bangs out of her eyes. The exercise felt foreign on her tongue but it wasn't unwelcome. “I suppose my friends and family deserve a spot on the list. They could've abandoned me on the side of the road at any point, yet they somehow found the strength to refrain.”

Thing struck the porcelain.

Wednesday closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. “Yes, I remember the time I was literally left on the side of the road. But Uncle Fester said it was an accident.” Thing's hesitant twitch made Wednesday narrow her eyes suspiciously. “It was an accident…wasn't it?”

Before Thing could make a move, her left pocket began to vibrate. Wednesday fished out her phone, arching a brow at the caller ID.

“We'll continue this discussion later.” She glared at Thing from under hooded eyelids before answering.“Xavier.”

“Hey, Wednesday!” Xavier's usual monotone voice was frantic. This should be interesting. “Um, I need to ask a favour.”

At her silence, the boy on the other end wasted no time .“Caspian dropped his pet Gerald in town. I was wondering if you could go fetch him.”

Wednesday shot her brows up. “Caspian…dropped, his pet?” That was the last thing she expected to hear.

“Yeah…he called it a Niffler. Never heard of it so I assume it's a magical cat or something. He seemed pretty upset and he told me to get it back asap before it could…nevermind, he was talking gibberish. So can you help?”

Wednesday looked at Thing incredulously. She guesses there was some merit to Therapy. She was already attracting golden opportunities, and she was already prepared not to turn them down.

“I can, where is this Niffler?”

“That’s the thing, I don't know. Caspian was all over the place I forgot to ask. I'll send you his number, I’m about to go to class.”

Wednesday winced. “Ms. Skrillps? Good luck.” She said honestly. Wednesday wasn't one to usually complain about teachers. She believed if one really wanted to learn, one would seek knowledge no matter what. But Ms. Skrillps was just a plain bad person let alone a teacher. She could harbour the only answer to immortality and Wednesday will still consider skipping to try her luck in a book.

“Thanks…For the favour and the luck.”

Wednesday stuffed the device back in her blazer pocket. “Looks like we'll have to cut our session short…again.” She spun around in the small bathroom, glaring at the golden safety on the window.

“Thing, if I recall you have some experience picking locks?” Thing leaped onto the window sill, cracking his fingers. But before he got to work, he tapped a teasing question.

Wednesday smirked. “I'm in a mood, I thought I'd let you have this one.”

Once she was a good distance away from the building, she procured her phone. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the highlighted 10 blue digits Xavier sent her.

Wednesday bit her bottom lip in thought. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with her. She was fairly confident that Caspian had the emotional maturity to shelve whatever ill will he had for the sake of his beloved pet. But if she was being honest with herself (something she's apparently doing now since therapy), she wasn't completely sold on that. He'd probably think she would be a fate worst than death for Gerald.

To his credit, usually, she would be, but not today.

Thing squeezed her shoulder.

“Do you think it would be wise to contact him?” Wednesday muttered hesitantly.

Thing paused in thought, before tapping confidently. That was all she needed. Wednesday promptly stashed the phone away.

“I agree. I was told to take initiative anyways.” If she was going to befriend Caspian, she had to start somewhere. If she learned anything from Enid last term, surprise gifts were apparently what normal people enjoyed. Wednesday sighed, now facing an equally daunting task.

Where would Caspian's pet be?

Her first lead was the local animal shelter, just a short walk away. But when she inquired about a pet cat named Gerald she was met with shrugs. She then made her way over to the fire station and got the same treatment, though she caught a few stray nasty looks. No doubt she's earned quite a reputation amongst the town's first responders. She quickly left the scene, just in case one of them had the bright idea to ask the police.

Wednesday sat on the side of the curb, glancing at her watch. She still had time left but she had no idea where to look. Judging by Xavier's rushed voice, she's assuming Caspian would want the Nifler retrieved sooner rather than later. She supposes she'll have to give Caspian a call after all.

But just as she dragged her phone out of her pocket, she froze.

Her mind flashed back to the day they both went into town. She always remembered that day for its…uncomfortable ending, but its beginning was equally momentous. Caspian was snappy and in a mood before their altercation in the woods. He couldn't wait to get into town. The whole car ride, he was impatient, worried, and nervous like she's never seen him before. She just thought he was put off by her presence or annoyed by the errand, but no.

Caspian was looking for Gerald.

Wednesday's eyes widened at the realization. She sprang up so fast Thing almost fell out of her jacket as she bee-lined straight for the church. Wednesday wasn't sure what she hoped to find at that cursed location, but that was the only spot she knew he was snooping about. Perhaps she can retrace his steps from there.

Wednesday stood, hands on her hips exactly where she was that day. Her eyes glazed over the surrounding environment. Nothing but dead trees and a light dusting of snow.

“See any signs of Nifler?” She wondered aloud. Thing crawled out from the warmth of her black puffer jacket. Wednesday sniffled, rubbing her lips as she began scanning around.

She was about to turn when she heard the faintest whimper.

Wednesday froze in her spot, straining her ears. One look at Thing told her that it wasn't the wind that made that sound, and a second whimper confirmed it. She followed it as silently as she could. She felt like she was going around in circles, the sound drifting with the wind, leading her every which way. Eventually, though, she found a clue. She noticed a trail of odd webbed footprints in the snow. She followed its winding path around before finding its end at a bush

Wednesday approached it suspiciously. It was a completely normal-looking bush. That is, if Coincya Wrightii grew in Vermont America and not exclusively on the southwest coast of England. Especially if said Coincya Wrightii had not a single flake of snow on it from last night.

She crouched down, another sniffle emanating from the small shrub. “What do we have here?”.

Wednesday drew her brows together, the plant was flimsy, and she could see right through it. But all signs told her that Caspian's pet was in this far-from-home foliage. She scrutinized the greenery a bit more, realizing that some of the plant's distinct ruffle edges were more straight and blocky than she remembered. Like someone drew them from memory.

“How strange…” She whispered as Thing hopped off her shoulder. He tapped matter of factly. “You're right, Caspian is a magic user. Strange is par for the course.”

Wednesday drew her hands outwards, rubbing them, before tentatively reaching out to caress the shrub.

She drew in a sharp breath. Her hand phased right through the perfect unmoving plant.

“Fascinating…”. She watches as Thing crawled curiously over, doing the same and scampering back hastily at the slight stinging sensation.

Wednesday hobbled forward in her crouch position, rolling her sleeves up. She bit her bottom lip determinedly, watching as her hands, then arms disappeared into the illusion.

She groped around absentmindedly before she felt her fingertips graze fine short hair.

Then all of a sudden, something bit her hand.

Wednesday hissed, drawing back so abruptly she fell on her bottom. She only had a millisecond to examine the bite mark before a blur of blueish green dashed away.

“Thing!”

The hand sprung into action, perusing the small blur through barren trees. Not a second later Wednesday heaved herself back up.

Gerald wasn't particularly fast, but he was annoyingly crafty. Always taking the most winding and inconvenient paths. Wednesday ignored the whipping branches slashing her face as she raced further and further into the desolate woods. She dove and ducked around branches and trees. Clawed up hills and jumped over streams.

“Hmpf!” She tripped on a wayward root, falling face-first into the wet dirt. Gritting her teeth, she clutched her aching hand tighter as she scrambled up. She felt her cheeks warm and her lungs sting from the cool February air. She made a mental note to inquire exactly what a Nifler was and why on earth anyone would want one as a pet. 

Her ears perked at a small yelp just ahead of her, Wednesday quickening her jog.

She pulled back a particularly thorny branch to find herself in front of a jagged rock face. At its base, was a dust cloud of barred teeth and stitched fingers.

“Thing!” Wednesday approached the scuffle, stopping short when she realized she wasn't sure what she could do.

She watched helplessly for a while before dropping to the ground. If Thing came out on top or not, they'd still need a way to suspend the animal. Wednesday swiftly tugged the laces free from her combat boots, using her mouth to hold the strings. She was just about finished her second boot when she heard a small snorting yelp. She glanced up with wide eyes, waiting with batted breath for the dust to settle.

Thing was sprawled out over the prone form of what appeared to be a cyan-coloured platypus. Her helping hand was of decent size, but he barely covered the entire creature as is. His fingers pinned down their tiny webbed paws, his middle one struggling to keep Gerald's head tacked to the ground.

Wednesday got up, tripping slightly as one of her boots left her feet. She ignored the cringe-inducing sensation of her socked foot against mud as she strode over to the struggling pair.

The Nifler made a menacing clicking sound, though Wednesday found it impossible to take seriously when it sneezed like a kitten promptly after.

She made quick work stringing up the creature. She gathered its tiny hands and feet behind its back, tying them all up in one big knot. With Thing's help, she clamped his bill partially shut. Wednesday was pretty confident that Niflers had nostrils, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

“Slowly ease off.”

The hand carefully alleviated the pressure. The second Gerald felt the weight leave his body, he started tugging and pulling at his binds fruitlessly.

Wednesday sat back on her heels with a small sigh, watching the Nifler writhe around on the floor.

“Are you injured?” Wednesday turned towards her companion. Thing gave her thumbs up, but she took it upon herself to inspect him. Besides a couple of scratches and bruises and cold fingertips, Thing would be fine. Nothing a spa day with Enid couldn't fix.

Thing suddenly started tapping frantically.

Wednesday glanced down, staring at her hand. “Oh.” She was surprised to see it dripping blood. She numbly opened her clenched palm, eyeing the red gush from two small punctures. She rifled through her bag for her clean gym shirt, wrapping her hand as tightly as she could.

Now that her chase through the woods has come to a successful end, she could finally absorb all that transpired. Caspian's pet was some odd-looking platypus rodent hybrid. She scrutinized the little creature who has now given up, laying motionless on his belly. She guessed she can see the novelty of such a creature, they had the looks of a platypus without all its evolutionary setbacks. Honestly, Wednesday wasn't sure how Darwinism allowed for such an inefficient species as a platypus. They had a multitude of mismatched traits and were subpar at utilizing any of them.

It also dawned on her that Caspian somehow dropped him behind the church. Wednesday concludes she must've walked in on his search at the worst possible moment. How was it their timing was always so impeccable? But the fact that Gerald wasn't there initially and Caspian only knew where he was now, must've meant that he wasn't necessarily found but rather caught.

Caught using some sort of interesting illusion spell. She'll store that in her increasingly overflowing vault of questions to ask.

“We should start heading back.” Wednesday conceded after a particularly cool gust of wind.

She sprung up, thanking Thing as he dragged her other boot to her. After slipping her foot in, she carefully approached Gerald. She plucked him up by his binds, holding him a good distance from her face.

“Troublemaker you are.” Wednesday scowled slightly, rotating him as if inspecting a piece of meat at a butchery. The Nifler has finally stopped snarling at her, staring blankly with its black beady eyes that seemed to always look guilty yet completely unbothered by that fact. If Enid was here, she would undoubtedly squeal at how cute it was.

However, the Nifler's relatively calm demeanour suddenly turned rabid when Thing hopped onto her shoulder.

“Enough.” Wednesday corralled the struggling Gerald into her bag, clasping it shut. She carefully swung it over her shoulders, observing her surroundings.

“Any ideas how to get back?” She grumbled dryly. Thing shrugged, pointing lazily as he retreated back into her jacket, taking a well-deserved rest.

Wednesday sighed, trudging forward. Who knew making friends was going to be this eventful?

“Oh, my heavens! What happened to you child?”

“I fell out a window.”

“You fell out a wind- Larrisa! What kind of establishment are you running here?” Nurse Abner stared at Wednesday in horror, looking her up and down.

Wednesday eventually found her way back to civilization, meeting a worried Weems and Ms.Lindsay outside her office. Nurse Abner was the third reaction to her state, a reaction she initially thought was an overt one. But after catching a glimpse of her reflection, she found their assessment reasonable

Wednesday's usual perfect pristine self was gone, replaced by some dirtied-up imposter. Twigs and leaves stuck out of her jet black her, and one of her distinct pigtails was halfway undone. Her black school uniform was torn up and wet with mud. Her pale face was littered with micro scratches and skids of dirt. Her bleeding hand was dripping down onto her loose boots that shifted every time she took a damp step. It looked like she just finished an expedition in the trenches in the Argonne Forrest during the first world war.

“Believe me, I am equally disturbed by how easy trouble finds my students.” Weems hisses, but it lacked any real bite.

The drive back was tense. Weems knew she was up to something and made it quite clear there was a real chance she could be suspended if she pulled such a stunt again. But for some reason, Ms. Lindsay of all people took the blame, saying how the window wasn't properly secured in the first place. Wednesday wasn't sure why the young therapist felt the need to do such a thing, but it saved her skin nonetheless. Weems reluctantly accepted that excuse, out of lack of energy no doubt. She just spent her morning debating with the town council. She was attempting to persuade them to reinstate Nevermore's visitation privileges amongst other safety measures. Wednesday pitied the principal. Trying to reason with normies was never easy.

Nurse Abner sighed. “Whatever the case, come in come in, I seem to have my work cut out for me.” Wednesday left Weems at the door, entering the infirmary. She only caught a glimpse of Caspian's bed before she was promptly placed onto one, the curtains drawing around her. The woman asked some preliminary health questions and checked for any real injuries. When it was clear that Wednesday only suffered minor ones, Nurse Abner visibly relaxed.

“Let me see your hand dear.”

Wednesday offered her wrapped appendage, the Nurse hissing through clenched teeth before creasing her forehead. “A…bite mark?” She shot a suspicious glare at the girl.

Wednesday shrugged. “I fell onto a den of stray cats.”

“Oh dear, I'll have to check you for animal-transmissible diseases now. Have you received a rabies shot? Never mind that, let me just get your file. Keep pressure on the wound, I'll be back in a minute.”

The nurse wiped her hands on her apron, giving her one last exasperated look before leaving.

Wednesday instantly shot up at the sound of the door, approaching a familiar silhouette.

She drew the curtains back, unsurprised to see a startled Caspian caught in the act of eavesdropping.

“What the hel- Merlin's beard what happened to you?” He sat up, giving her a tentative once over. His eyes lingered on her bleeding hand before shaking his head. “Scratch that, I don't care. I just hoped you have forgotten about the last time we met.” He patted his wand carefully.

Wednesday couldn't help but bristle, recalling the unpleasant interaction. She put her hands up in surrender. “I remember just fine. I'm here to give you something.” Wednesday began carefully taking her bag off.

Caspian laughed coldly, twiddling his wand as he eyed her every move. “What could you possibly give me- Gerald? What the fuck!”

Wednesday reeled at his sudden mood shift as she presented the tied-up creature. The animal spun around slowly, perking up at his owner's astonished voice.

Wednesday slowly approached Caspian, the boy sitting up in his seat. “H-how did you…Who told-”

“Xavier notified me of your situation. I deduced Gerald's approximate location, unveiled your illusionary trap, and with the help of Thing, caught him.” Wednesday carefully transferred the Nifler into Caspian's awaiting hands.

Wednesday watched semi-amused at how Caspian turned over the lump of fur like he was inspecting the ripeness of melon. The boy didn't speak, his eyes scrutinizing every bit of his pet. He lingered on Geralds's bound arms and bill, his eyes quickly darting down to her injured hand.

Wednesday shifted uncomfortably. She seldom felt out of place and awkward in her own skin. It was she who usually made people feel that way. But never in her life did she feel the need to immediately leave a social situation. Her therapist did say that making friends would feel uncomfortable at first. But it would appear she elected to leave out the skin-crawling uncertainty that also came with it.

Should she leave? She came to give him his pet, she's completed what she set out to do. But she didn't want the conversation to be over. But she couldn't muster the words. He wasn't talking to her anymore, should she take that as her cue to leave? Or was it an invitation to speak? Why was human interaction so needlessly complicated?

Wednesday cleared her throat. “He doesn’t seem to like Thing.” She offered plainly.

Caspian stopped the turning of his pet. The air between them was as thick as the blood running down her fingers. When her cheeks got too warm for her liking, she was about to pivot on her heel and make her grand escape. But his grumbled voice came back. “He probably thinks he’s a baby Acromantula.”

“Oh…” Wednesday stared at the boy. When it was clear he wasn't going to elaborate on what exactly an Acromantula was, she bite her lip. “Makes sense…So I’m assuming that’s what you were actually doing when I interrupted you that day?”

Another silence befell them, quite honestly Wednesday wasn't sure she could take any more of it. Thankfully for her, it seemed Caspian couldn't either.

He suddenly drew his eyes from his pet, appraising her. He wasn't outwardly volatile, but he was far from friendly. His eyes were ruled with mild contempt and disdain. Wednesday guesses she could work with that.

“So what now? Have I just sold my soul to you?”

Wednesday arched a brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t kid me, Addams, you don’t do anything for free. Save me the trouble and just spit out what you want so I can remind you why I don’t have to do anything you say.” He spat out. She supposes she spoke too soon, the fire and hatred quickly returned to his eyes.

“I don’t want anything in return,” Wednesday said honestly. She sifted through her mind as to what she would even ask for. Answers mostly but she wasn't even thinking of that when she accepted Xavier's plea.

“Bullshit,” Caspian snared. “You always want something in return. What is it? An IOU? A future favour? A blood sample?”

“No.” Wednesday felt a frustration bubble on her skin. It wasn't the angry kind, but one of confusion. How clear did she have to be that there were no strings attached? It was a long shot that he'd even respond as calmly as he did.

Caspian snorted, holding up Geralds's tied-up form. “So is this what, charity? A peace offering? A white flag?”

Wednesday pouted her bottom lip stumped. “I was asked to do it…I was able to…so I did.”

Something flashed across his eyes but it was quickly squashed, Caspian chuckling lifelessly. “As simple as that? Eh?” He didn't wait to hear her response. “This changes nothing you know? Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday stood rooted to her spot, feeling a sense of defeat she's never experienced before. It was soul-crushing rather than bone-numbing. It made her chest ache rather than her mind. It wasn't a pleasant sensation she can say that.

Caspian looked up, his face contorting in utter bafflement. “Um…Fuck off?”

Wednesday drew her bottom lip back, quickly fleeing the boy's scolding gaze. She sat on the edge of her hospital bed, utterly exhausted. Both mentally and physically. So much for taking initiative in friendship, it seems like everything she did was met with hostility. But through the woes, she grasped onto the small flashes of civility he gave her. The rational part of her mind said she was making progress, that she just needed to take his hostility on the chin. She supposes after all she put him through, that was the least she could endure. But it still didn't make whatever she was feeling any better.

Wednesday perked her ears, hearing a hushed voice coming from the other end of the room.

“You absolute bafoon of a pet! I feed you, I keep you warm, and you just decide to bugger off? Look at me - Hey! look at me, I'm the chap who bought you alright.”

There was a pause, Caspian's voice growing considerably softer. “What the bloody hell's wrong with you mate? We have to stick by each other from now on do you understand? We’re all we got off home…Gerald?…Gerald! OW!”

Wednesday turned slightly at the sharp clatter of fallen trays and ruffled bed sheets. She could make out Caspian's struggling form and Geralds's bouncing plump body reaching for the curtains.

“I should never have freed you! You’re going back under until I can bloody walk again. Incarcerous!”

There was a squeal and dull thump, followed by Caspian's tired sigh as he laid back down.

Wednesday turned back around, mimicking him. She crossed her arms over her chest, placing her hands on her shoulder as she gazed up at the ceiling.

At least she wasn't the only one getting on Caspian's nerves.