Sets and Reps
He has to keep going. He has to.
If he gave up now, how could he ever look at himself in the mirror again?
A great duelist once said, 'It is when you believe you have nothing left, is when you cast your strongest spell.'
There were many times he thought he couldn't do it. The Troll dungeon debacle in his fourth year, the mix-up with the mermaids in his third, hell, even the quidditch game where he ate all those blunger connections. Yet he pressed forward and survived. Digging deep within himself, harnessing power he never knew he had.
He needed that now more than ever. He counted the seconds down on the huge digital clock, savoring every moment of rest.
Just one more set.
He pushed the dumbbells off his knees, one after the other.
Caspian ground his teeth. He could do it.
One may say he's hit the first real will-breaking resistance in the gym. After his physical check-up, Mr. Bailey gave him a choice between regiments. Something called a PPL or a full-body workout.
He chose the full-body workout rather than the one denoted by three letters.
He later found out it stood for push-pull leg and was the more popular option. Upper body Pushing motions on one day, upper body pulling on another, and legs for the last, and repeat. But even then, he decided to stick to his original choice. It had him in the gym three times a week rather than six. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed lifting to a certain degree. But he wasn't obsessed.
At first, he was thrown off by how complicated something as simple as getting stronger could get. Reps, range of motion, 1RPM, PRs, the difference between activation and engaging. Clavicular heads, sternas, deltoids, triceps, biceps, and latissimus dorsi (he swears that one was a spell).
He had about a billion questions on the first day. On his twenty-fifth, Bailey practically barked at him to 'Google it for Christ's sake!'.
Which he did.
Which only confused him.
What was the difference between a powerlifter and a bodybuilder? What's a bulk and a cut? What is a 'natty' and why are there so many 'non-natty's'? Is weight training better than calisthenics? What's plyometrics and why were all these blokes so big! Here he thought the Ravenclaw 6th-year beater was large. But standing next to these guys participating in 'Olympia', he was a dwarf.
But apparently, they were unhealthy and unauthentic? But that actually doesn't matter because something called BMI doesn't tell the full story? What's 'tren' and why do an alarming amount of people use it? Why was everyone so obsessed with 'calves' and 'forearms'? What's a pump and why was 'leg day' always skipped? What are calories and why does one need to track them.
Where do they run off to?
Why is protein measured in grams, but Americans use ounces for everything else? What is a metabolic feeding window?
Running is good, but too much is bad for your joints and musclier hypertrophy. Training to failure is bad, but close is good (what is considered close?). Why was bloody taking off your shoes to lift acceptable under any circumstance?
After an evening falling down the online fitness rabbit hole, he took what he needed and vowed to never return. It was just complicated argument after complicated argument and contradictory answer after contradictory answer. From his research, he's deduced it was basically just four things.
Eat right, sleep a lot, lift heavy things, and be active.
And he's been doing that ever since he joined the gym here. He was very strict with himself. The only days he skipped were the ones where he had that blimey cast on.
This was his third day back since the injury. Due to last night's events, he wasn't as awake as he should be. His peers offered him a caffeinated beverage called 'pre-work out', but he politely declined. He didn't want to rely on caffeine to do well in the gym like everyone else.
He only drank coffee when he had an assignment due or after a loopy night out. Not to mention, his gym mates had a nasty habit of taking too much. They would run around shouting like maniacs. Don't even get him started on 'smelling salts' which he also declined.
But when he was fighting for his life at the bottom of a 170lb squat, he was having second thoughts. Maybe he should've overdosed on pre-workout and smelling salts like everyone else. But he dug deep and fought through it. He managed to complete his leg portion of the day with no problem. He may not be able to walk for the foreseeable future, but at least he didn't quit.
His upper body, on the other hand, wasn't as easy.
He brought the dumbbells down as controlled as he could, pushing up. His arms were shaking and his face was twisted up. Just one more rep.
The second he reached the top, he let his arms flop to the side, releasing the weights.
He let out a tired breath, he did it.
He reached for his phone, changing the blaring song in his earbuds. It was a nameless rap song Ajax recommended. He scrolled through the playlist before opting for a rock hit he fancied. After having access to unlimited music, Caspian found himself gravitating to the same few songs. It was ironic. His past self would kill for this variety, yet here he was. Still listening to 15 tracks.
He reached for the metallic 'Nevermore' branded water bottle, taking long swig of cool water.
He started to feel a strange sensation wash over him like he was being watched.
A quick glance around outright proved his suspicion. He was being watched,
By everyone in the gym.
He narrowed his eyes, polishing off what was left of his bottle. What was everyone's problem now?
He casually gazed around, meeting the looks of every sweaty teen boy and girl he could see. They had their eyes wide and mouths open in disbelief. Some even stopped right in the middle of their workouts, the weights hanging lifelessly by their sides.
Caspian furrowed his brows, screwing up his water bottle. He didn't know what everyone was staring at. It wasn't like he lifted some insane weight. It was a ninety-pound incline bench press. For his standards, it was heavy, but he's seen people in here do what he just struggled with as a warm-up.
He planned to ignore it, but the scandalous whispers started up shortly after. He let out an annoyed sigh. He was just about to ask everyone what the bloody problem was until he caught something in the corner of his eye.
“Oh, my days!” Caspian jumped, reeling so far back he nearly fell off the bench.
Looking down at him was Wednesday of all people. She stood there impossibly still, eyes as dead as ever.
“Merlin's beard, you are creepy as fuck just standing there…” Caspian ripped his ears buds out, grasping his already aching chest. “What's your bloody problem?”
“I was waiting for you to finish your set.” She drawled out tonelessly. “You didn't go all the way down on the last one.”
He swallowed, willing his racing heart to settle. “Are you an expert in weightlifting now? Is dominion of all things morbid not enough? Why not critique my form while you're at it.”
“Gladly,” She folded her arms. “Your feet weren't planted. Your elbows were flared out instead of inward at 30 degrees. Your wrist wasn't stacked on each other, which could cause injury in the long run.” She recited without missing a beat.
Caspian creased his forehead. She just stared back with a bored intensity that only she could pull off.
“How do you-”
“I've studied injuries of various sorts and the cause of them. Gym-related injuries are some of the most common in our society.”
He arched a brow. “Healer in your future?”
“Think more sinister.” She pursed her lips.
He swiped his face with a towel, appraising her. “I'm guessing your foots healed.”
“I wasn't able to wait the recommended 48 hours, so I injected my ankle with various supplements and wrapped it in athletic tape. I'll make a full recovery by tomorrow. Barring any unexpected 'missteps'.” She shot him a pretty nasty glare.
He shook his head. “Well, considering you limped down here to see me, must be important.”
He pushed himself up with a groan, his legs still very much sore from his death-defying squat. He set the bench horizontally, dragging it back and under the bar.
“You said to keep you posted,” She began. “I've come across something.”
“Already?” Caspian raised a brow, adjusting the bar and safeties. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Do you really care how much sleep I get?”
“Do you really care about my answer to that question?”
Wednesday frowned, thinking for a second. “No.”
“So you're losing nothing in telling me” He bent down slowly, un-racking a thirty-five-pound plate. “It's just something people ask.”
“Like how people ask 'how are you?' even though no one actually cares?”
“Well…when you put it like that, seems kinda fake.” He let out an annoyed grunt, securing the clip before moving to the other side. “Do you always have to point out the bleak in life?”
“Helps when a majority of life is bleak,” She mused. “I slept a healthy 6 hours and 33 minutes. I did this between classes.”
“Finally, an answer!” He gestured to the heavens. “For such a 'no nonsense' oriented person, you make answering questions complicated.”
“Well, you ask purposelessly complicated questions.”
He glowered at her, but there was no real fire behind it. She seemed to always have an answer for him. It was impressive yet maddening at the same time. He has long learned she was immune to his smooth-talking, but his comebacks? A skill he's sharpened in the pits of the Slytherin house? She'd be able to outwit the best Hogwarts had to offer without breaking a sweat.
He nonchalantly scanned the crowd behind her. He was surprised to find everyone still staring. Just as, if not, more intensely as before. The whispers definitely increased tenfold. He tore his gaze away. Nosy lot.
“Remind me to never ask if you've eaten.” he adjusted the clip before plopping down on the bench. ”You'd somehow make it into the political commentary of the state of chips. - wait…you still didn't tell me what you're doing here?
“I need to talk to you.”
“I need to finish this exercise.”
Wednesday stuck out her bottom lip slightly, darting her eyes to the barbell and then to him. “You can't do it while I'm here?”
“No!” His eyes widened. The last thing he needed was Wednesday Addams leering down at him as he tried to hit a tough chest press. “Give me 15 minutes, wait outside the change rooms” Caspian hissed, jerking his head to the side.
Wednesday locked her jaw. “I didn't cut my study time short to”
“Well, that's your problem. I didn't ask you to come.”
“I timed it for when your Friday workout ends. Right after the last period. It lasts an average of 1 hour and 23 minutes. That includes time to change, your warmup, and post-stretching routine.”
“Well, I took a little longer today on the leg portion because it was taking- wait...” Confusion clouded his features. “How do you know my schedule?”
They exchanged alarmed looks. The sound of obnoxious gym music blaring in the back.
“I'll be waiting outside the changrooms.” She promptly spun on her heel.
“Addams?” Caspian called out worriedly. “Addams, how do you know my schedule?”
“You're 3 minutes and 40 seconds late.” Wednesday rose gracefully from her seat.
He rolled his eyes, swinging his small duffle bag over his shoulder. “Poor little goth girl had to wait and extra 3 minutes. She'd cry if she had tears.”
“Says the boy who couldn't press 115 pounds with someone watching him.” She retorted smoothly, following him out the doors.
He was careful to keep pace with her slower awkward one as they strolled through the halls.
“First off, I had to drop the plates to 25s.” He winced, remembering his failure on the first repetition. Thank Merlin for the safeties. “Second, you don't watch, you judge, huge difference there. And third, I make odd faces when I lift heavy.”
“Your face is odd all the time where's the problem?”
“Did you just…”He felt a grin tug at his lips. “Did you just rip on me?”
He's never thought he'd be smiling at the prospect of getting insulted. However, it was strangely charming when it came from her. Maybe she did have a sense of humor after all.
Wednesday shrugged. “I told the truth. You make objectively strange faces at random intervals of the day. Like during Autopsy II with the calf brains. Or during Vampire Fanging when Yoko demonstrated -”
“Ok ok,” Caspian pinched the bridge of his nose. He stood corrected. She was just snarky. “What do you want?”
“I found an interesting pattern in Tyler's behavior.”
Caspian stopped dead in his tracks. “Why in Merlin's beard didn't you lead with that?”
“There were an alarming amount of people watching us,” Wednesday spared a glance over her shoulder. “I didn't want anyone overhearing.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line. So she noticed too.
He jogged to catch up with her. “Couldn't you wait for later, y'know when we do our botany project?”
They didn't work on their project during their designated Thursday time slot this week for violent Yorkshire pudding-related reasons. So they decided to make up for it after classes today.
“I didn't want to cut into our time allotment. We're on a very strict schedule.”
“It's just…” He groaned, already feeling tired. “It's so much work.”
“You're the one who wanted to accelerate the process.”
”Well can I decelerate it? I'm burnt out on all things corn.”
Caspian was worked to the ground when it came to their botany assignment. It was the most intense project he's ever been a part of. No breaks, no slacking off, just straight nose to the grindstone for three hours, three times a week.
They've finished the lab portion of their assignment, rather she did. He happily stood and recorded the process while she did all the heavy lifting. Which was probably for the best. He didn't know what all those little glass cauldrons, bubbling liquids, and whirring devices did.
They gathered all the data they needed in a timely matter. Next up was the really tedious and time-consuming part. The research.
“We can scale back the intensity and cut our session time in half. If we account for midterms study times, we'll finish in mid-April. Our sessions can leave room for more pressing matters.”
“Y'know, we're like the only group besides Barclay who actually started. Most would probably start when we finish, or perhaps the week it's due.”
“Your point is?”
Caspian shrugged his shoulders. It was probably for the best to start early. Mid-terms were on the third week of March, after the break. And March started this week. Before he knew it, he'd be studying for exams and swamped with half a dozen ISUs for his other classes.
“Best I don't reveal anymore until we get to a secure location.”
Caspian followed as her eyes scanned their surroundings. Half the students they passed openly gawked at them. The other half didn't care. Did they always get stares or was this a new thing?
Maybe it was the stark contrast between their looks. Wednesday had on her pressed uniform while he wore a pair of sweats and an athletic long-sleeve. Her hair was pristine while his was ruffled and wet. Her skin was clear, while his was still flushed from the workout.
He brushed off the looks, taking a swig of his protein drink. “Did you have a chance to speak with Enid?”
“Half of Ophelia Hall skipped classes today,” Wednesday noted. “She wasn't there when I rose at dawn, presumably sleeping off the slumber party in one of the other rooms.”
He nodded along. He really wanted to explain himself to the girl. Not like there was anything to explain, but he couldn't shake the look she gave him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked a little betrayed. Which didn't make sense. She made it quite clear where they stood with each other. Why were girls so complicated?
His eyes drifted down to her ambling foot. “I still would like to see how your ankles healing up.”
She sent a sidelong glance. “Why?”
“Why not?”
Wednesday thought about it as they turned down a busy hallway. “I'll allow you to inspect the state of the sprain but nothing else.”
“Works with me. Ah- Let's go this way.” Caspian ghosted his hands over her shoulders, guiding her left. “The floors are usually wet from the leaky fountain. Same with the 5th floor and the Witchcraft and Sorcery corridor.
She arched a brow. “You seem oddly well-versed in the conditions of the academy's flooring.”
“You pick up on things when you couldn't walk for a month.”
It was when they were on the third floor did she realize she could've sued the school for the safety hazard.
Caspian still isn't sure if she was joking or serious.
“So what's this pattern you speak of.” He collapsed into the bean bag chair, closing his eyes contently.
Ever since they started working in the library nook, he's been eyeing it. Before he was too cautious to try it around her.
Wednesday frowned, taking a seat at the desk. “It's better if you sit here while I explain.”
“My legs are about to bloody fall off. I'll sit where I want.” He waved her off, sprawling his legs out. “Start talking.”
He felt her glare on his skin before an audible sigh came from her corner.
“The police reports state that Tyler was last seen about were 3 miles outside the town of Westford.”
“So?”
She paused. “Both times they were tracking him, they lost him at the exact same point. Somewhere near Westford.”
“Big forest out there. He could've just found some hole in the ground and bid his time. Fed off of wandering elk or something.” Caspian mumbled, placing his hands behind his head.
“A 15-foot monster eluding the full might of the national guard and state troopers?” He heard her scoff. “I highly doubt that.”
“Ok, then he reverted back to human form.”
“And no one saw him? You said yourself he needs to eat.”
“So what are you suggesting then?”
“There's either something in Westford or around it that is of importance to Tyler. Why else would he keep going back?”
“If we completely disregard the fact that, again, the woods is a bloody massive place with infinite hiding spots, then yes I see your point.”
“That's not all. The undocumented room found in the basement of the Gates house was empty. No sign of life.”
“Shocker.” He rolled his eyes.
When she made no sound, he tilted his head down at his disapproving face. “What?”
“I know you can critically think Caspian. I've seen you do it.” She retorted, doing nothing to hide her annoyance . “If I wanted to explain every last excruciating detail, I'd speak to Ajax. You do want to prevent another attack, right?”
He lolled his head to one side. Couldn't argue with that now could he? He narrowed his eye sin thought.
“If it wasn't some holding cell, then it was probably housing something important. From my experience a hidden room usually means treasure.”
“Go on.”
He exhaled sharply, propping up on his elbows. “Well, it was hidden in the first place…So whoever stole it knew of its existence. Whoever knew of its existence, was close with Laurel. Maybe whoever stole it needed funds?”
“Think deeper.” Wednesday implored, staring intently at him. “Beyond the surface level.”
Caspian met her eyes. He wracked his brain for possibilities. He didn't exactly plan on solving a mystery today. He actually planned on taking a much-needed nap. As they say, recovery time is just as important as gym time.
He kissed his teeth. “Why have a hidden room in the first place?”
“Exactly.” She agreed. “Was this the doing of a long-forgotten ancestor or was it a new installment? Why did the criminal need to access it now?”
“Maybe we shouldn't be asking why they were hiding it or even who they were hiding it from.” He sat up. “But what they were hiding exactly. Maybe It's something that holds sentimental value? But from what I heard of the family lineage, they don't seem like the sentimental type. No...going to an extent like that…they were keeping something…something...big in there”
“My sentiments exactly.” Wednesday nodded. “I'll keep you updated only if you plan on offering substantial insight like that.”
“I'll keep critically thinking if you let me work out in peace.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing down. “Speaking of, let's have a look see at your ankle.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “Are you sure? It requires you to leave your oh-so-comfortable seating arrangement.”
He hauled himself up with a groan, taking the two steps to the desk. With an even louder groan, he squatted down.
“It's doing nicely,” He scanned his wand over the affected area. The orb of light glowing a healthy green. “Should be fully healed no later than tomorrow morning.”
“A sprain like this usually takes weeks to fully heal by nonsurgical means. I've exhausted my allowance of medical aid for the term.”
“I'm sure you can just pout and get some more from mummy.”
Wednesday glowered dangerously at him.
“Oh don't give me that look.” He scoffed. “I've seen your room. I bet half of those antique devices cost a fortune.”
“I rather not explain to my parents what I was doing that constitutes the need for a replenishing of medical supplies.” She clipped before hesitating. “And most of what you saw was handed down to me-
“Ever heard of generational wealth?” He clicked his tongue, collapsing into the rickety wooden chair beside her. “And your wardrobe isn't really 'granny's-hand-me-downs' now is it? I doubt that black leather cropped jacket you wore last night was a family heirloom.”
Wednesday pressed her lips in a thin line, opting to glare silently.
“I reckon 112 - no “ He self-corrected, furrowing his brows as he recalled the feel of the quality leather. “At least 119 Galleons for that alone.”
He locked eyes with her dead ones.
“I wasn't aware I was talking to the next Karl Lagerfeld” She mumbled incredulously.
“I worked in a clothing shop for a summer.”
With one last exasperated look, she checked her watch. “Well, now that you're here we should start working on the project. Do you have your notes on the history of Zea Mays?”
“Yeah,” He grunted, summoning his bag from the corner with a wand flick.
He handed Wednesday his notes before setting up his mini workstation of textbooks and work packages. She took it, but not before squinting, her eyes fluttering slowly down the page.
He scowled when the silence grew too loud. “Does it suit your standards?”
She glanced at him before she started copying his notes.
“You have exceptional penmen ship.” She remarked indifferently.
Caspian blinked. “Oh…Thanks...”
He turned to his work, not knowing what else to say.
He still wasn't used to writing with a ballpoint pen. It was like going from a quidditch class Nimbus 2023 to a toddler’s training broom.
But apparently, it met Wednesday Addams's impossibly high standards.
Something he didn't know possible.