Pugsley Addams once said he could not be surprised by anything anymore.
His world had been upturned when he was eight and nothing could really phase you after watching your criminal uncle be shot down and dragged away at your birthday party by SWAT teams with Hyde's instead of K9 dogs.
It was only five months later when their parents were taken, too. Gomez was accused of murdering some normie prat in Jericho during his school years and Morticia was accused of perverting justice.
They would've gotten away from the cops, if dumb little Pugsley hadn't tried to throw a bomb at the Hyde in their living room.
That backfired to extreme lengths. Gomez, Morticia, grandmamma, even Lurch and Thing were dragged off to jail, kicking and screaming with gunshots wounds and Hyde bites covering most of their bodies. Thing was eaten entirely by a Hyde.
Wednesday had barely managed to grab Pugsley in the chaos, dragging his bleeding body away from the police and to safety.
That was six years ago. He and Wednesday had been on their own up until nine months ago, moving from abandoned building to abandoned building as they tried to find their family, hidden too deep in the criminal justice system underneath too many layers of corruption and lies.
Six years of having a target hanging over your head pretty much conditioned Pugsley and Wednesday to expect the unexpected, to never waver in the face of danger, to keep themselves to themselves because other people are just more trouble than they're worth while trying to free their family.
Still, when Wednesday brought Spiderwolf herself home nine months ago, a stab wound in her side with blood leaking everywhere, Pugsley couldn't help but be surprised.
Expect the unexpected, except when Enid Sinclair was involved. Then you had to expect anything, everything and nothing, because she was one bundle of chaos nobody seemed to be capable of understanding.
Well, Wednesday could understand her, but Pugsley didn't understand his sister much, either, so, he figured it was whatever.
Enid had become a permanent fixture of their little team. Pugsley, honestly, did not hate it.
You could only have the same conversations with your emotionless, murder-craving, revenge-seeking, borderline psychopathic sister before you started going a little bit insane, more insane than Addams' should be.
Enid was a breath of fresh air, in a genuinely nice way. She talked about her feelings, made jokes, got under Wednesday's skin and introduced Pugsley to K-Pop and the many, many tricks that came with her being Spiderwolf.
Not only was she a werewolf who had yet to wolf out, she had mutant cells in her body that literally allowed her to make webs out of her wrists. It was... Well, it was insane, and exactly the kind of creature they could use in their pursuit of justice.
It helped that Enid was easily won over by their (Pugsley's) explanation about why Wednesday had been digging up a police officer's grave to steal his body when Enid first saw Wednesday the night prior, and why Enid had been stabbed by a cop that night for just standing in front of Wednesday in the alleyway when she spotted the officer's knives.
The knife was silver.
That was a scary night. Pugsley asked Enid about her family while Wednesday cleaned the wound and stitched it, then listened to Wednesday whisper about how Enid had jumped in front of her as soon as she spotted those knives once Enid fell unconscious from blood loss.
They were surprised when Enid woke up a few hours later with barely a comment about her stab wound and the silver thing, only talking about how she hoped she hadn't missed the release of a new song she'd been waiting for.
Enid came back frequently over the next two months, dropping Wednesday home after their nightly adventures in the city. More often than not, they had been running from the police, so, Pugsley had snacks ready for her when she brought Wednesday home.
Some nights, Wednesday didn't even go outside. Enid swung by on her nightly Spiderwolf stakeouts around New York to bring them snacks or little bits of information she'd overheard between common criminals that could help them make connections to find their family.
Pugsley remembers one night in those two months particularly well. Enid turned up one night in a pair of My Little Pony pyjamas with a bloody lip and a cut cutting across her stomach, the blood staining the fabric that had once been white.
Wednesday had ordered Pugsley to hold Enid's hand while she stitched the wound and, in a voice that clearly translated to murderous rage, demanded to know who the fuck had hurt her.
It was Enid's mother. It always seemed to be Enid's mother causing issues. Enid wasn't a good wolf because she had yet to earn more than her elongated claws. She wasn't a good daughter because she brought failure upon the family name. She was going to be sent to conversion camp for werewolves if she didn't figure out the wolfing out thing, soon.
Pugsley knew it was just a matter of time before Esther Sinclair started bringing up other kinds of conversion camps, especially when he noticed how Enid stared at Wednesday with that awe-struck smile.
He also knew it was a miracle that Enid managed to talk Wednesday out of murdering Esther Sinclair by simply whispering that she didn't want Wednesday to leave her side.
He shouldn't have been surprised when Wednesday listened and stayed by Enid's side. He still was.
Enid didn't leave for two days. When she did leave, their makeshift base felt empty and dark and terrifying.
Neither Addams had to vocalise it, but Enid Sinclair was supposed to be there with them. She'd earned her place and their affections.
So, when Enid turned up just twelve days later declaring she was running away from her mother, neither were surprised. They just pointed at the corner of the room where they (Wednesday) had made a small bedroom for Enid, pink paint standing out sharply against the dark grey of the bricks.
She had cried. They weren't surprised about that.
But Enid was consistently full of surprises. She noticed Pugsley's affinity for technology and, after a terrible night where he joined them out on the streets and got Enid shot for the first time, deduced his role in the group might be better as their 'guy in the chair'.
Seven months later, Pugsley has happily stepped into his 'guy in the chair' role in the group and, honestly, he knows they're better off for it. Not only is he not getting anybody else hurt, he's managed to create Enid one of the best suits she could wish for with so much technology around her wrists to manipulate the webs.
Not to mention he'd been doing it as they up and moved across the city every two weeks, sometimes every two days if they'd been getting too much bad press and making too much noise.
The Spiderwolf nanotech suit has been his best invention yet. Enid is more protected, she blends into the dark and has nightvision lenses to give her regular Addams' level vision, and she can literally make web bombs come out of her wrists.
Well, she would have the web bombs, if Pugsley could get the minor tweaks finished and test it out before they send it out into the world. Pugsley doesn't care if police officers die from his devices, but he does care about hurting the innocent people who may be in the vicinity of the web bomb.
It's mixed with gunpowder and an acid mixture he made that'll ignite the webs after five seconds of launching.
Wednesday (their usual tester for the inventions because, if anyone can find a flaw in their functions, it would be Wednesday) outright refused to have them test the web bombs on her. Enid was in full agreement.
They did not need to blow up an Addams and hinder their search for justice even more than it already had been hindered.
"We're home!"
Mentioning their search for justice, Enid and Wednesday are home.
Enid webs them through the open sewer grate in the ground, dropping Wednesday easily on her feet on the warehouse floor and shooting another web at the ceiling, dangling by her wrist as she tugs her mask off with a grin.
"So, massive progress tonight," Enid says. "That setting you added on my eyes? The enhanced zoom thing that makes everything huge? That's insane."
"She panicked when it zoomed in accidentally and thought she'd been shrunken down or teleported," Wednesday says, crossing the warehouse to the boards filled with crime scene photos, police reports, maps and more of their documents regarding their work.
"It was a shock!" Enid says.
"How was everything else?" Pugsley asks.
"We've got bank records with suspicious payments to an offshore account. We're hoping you can track it for us," Wednesday says.
"Who's bank records?" Pugsley asks.
"Sheriff Galpin's," Enid says, swinging herself back and forth from her web still holding to the ceiling.
Apparently, hanging from the ceiling was fun. Pugsley didn't bother to ask. He would never understand.
"I'll get right on it," Pugsley says.
"No, you won't," Wednesday says. "Did you finish modifying Enid's new web blasters?"
"The web bombs? No."
"The strangling webs?"
"They tried to strangle me. No."
"That was funny," Enid chuckles.
Maybe Pugsley and Wednesday are rubbing off on Enid too much.
"Well, did you do anything useful while we were running away from murderers?" Wednesday demands.
"Yes, actually," Pugsley says, sliding on his chair over to his workdesk.
He lifts a small silver chamber into the air, roughly the same size as his pinky finger.
"What is that?" Enid asks.
"Spider venom," Pugsley says.
Wednesday and Enid are at his side before he can blink, Enid's arm already outstretched for Pugsley to attach it to her suit.
"I extracted venom from those black widow spiders I got you to steal for me from that spider guy upstate. I put it in this protective tube so it won't kill you. It attaches onto the web blasters and, when you voice activate it, it releases a drop of poison with every web," Pugsley explains, moving to attach it.
"How does it get into their system?" Wednesday asks.
"It doesn't have to get into their system. The concentration of the poison will literally burn through their skin and fry them from the outside in," Pugsley says.
"Is there an antidote for it?" Enid asks.
"I have antivenin," Pugsley says. "Here," he nods at a bottle of what looks like water on his desk. "Enough for Wednesday when we test it on her."
"Will it kill her?" Enid asks. "Like the web bombs would?"
"Not if we administer the antivenin within the first minute of it touching her skin. I'll have it ready to go. We just need to make sure it burns through her skin," Pugsley says.
"It sounds dangerous," Wednesday says. "I'm in."
"I'm not! I don't want to poison Wednesday!" Enid says.
"Poison me," Wednesday says. "It sounds dreadful."
There's not much argument from Enid when Wednesday consents to it. She can't make Wednesday change her mind over things like this, no matter how hard she tries, and she's learnt to just trust Wednesday when she wants to do dumb things like almost die from some extreme black widow venom poisoning.
Wednesday moves across the warehouse to stand on the crashmats in the corner for their other testing sessions with Pugsley's inventions. Enid waits for Pugsley to finish wiring the venom tube into her suit, then crosses the room to stand opposite Wednesday.
Pugsley brings over a video camera and the antivenin, grinning from ear to ear when Enid whines and shifts from foot to foot.
"I don't want to burn through Wednesday's skin! Her skin is needed. Her skin is clear. Her skin is pretty and feels soft," Enid whines.
"You feel my sister's skin a lot?" Pugsley teases.
Enid lifts her webbing arm towards Pugsley, eyebrows raised in a challenge.
"Do it," Wednesday eggs her on.
"Do not turn my own inventions against me, you Spiderwimp," Pugsley laughs. "Now, poison my sister, before I do it."
"Do it, Enid. Poison me," Wednesday jeers.
"I don't want to poison her! I liked the ricochet web testing. Can't we do that again?" Enid asks.
"Enid, I will be fine. Poison me, before I do it myself," Wednesday says.
Enid pouts, but turns her arm towards Wednesday and pulls her mask on. She waits for a second, then nods.
"You're gonna tell it to activate Widow Bite, and then just shoot it at Wednesday, tell it to deactivate Widow Bite, and then we give her the antivenin," Pugsley says, pressing record on the video camera.
"I am not legally responsible for anything that happens," Enid tells the camera. "This is Spiderwolf, by the way. Testing Widow Bites. Invented by the guy in the chair. My test subject is-"
"Getting annoyed by you delaying my pain. Poison me, Spiderwolf," Wednesday sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Activate Widow Bite," Enid tells her suit. "Holy shit!"
"What?" Wednesday asks.
"It gives me, like, x-ray vision of the best target sites that would kill you. It's like the zooming thing again!" Enid says.
"Cool, now poison me," Wednesday says.
Enid is probably scowling under her mask, or near tears, but she fires a web at Wednesday.
"Deactivate Widow Bite!" Enid says, yanking her mask off and running over to Wednesday.
"You're blocking my camera shot!" Pugsley runs after her, nudging her aside as he zooms in on the webs disintegrating into Wednesday's arm.
Wednesday stays upright and seems visibly unaffected, watching the venom sizzle through her clothes and hitting her skin. Her eyes squint, and she nods.
"I can feel it. The venom is entering my blood stream," Wednesday says. "I am being poisoned. It is painful. I am vehemently enjoying myself."
Enid yanks the antivenin from Pugsley's hands and practically tears the cap off, shoving the bottle towards Wednesday's mouth. Wednesday barely has time to grab it with her other hand before she's swallowing down the antivenin, glaring at Enid over the bottle.
"I don't want you to die!" Enid panics, waving her hands in the air as she jumps from one foot to the other anxiously.
She reminds Pugsley of those dogs that hop up into view over the neighbor's fence.
"Is it working?" Enid panics.
Wednesday finishes the bottle and hands it to Enid, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She shifts for a moment.
Then her eyes roll back in her head and she's falling to the ground. Enid barely catches her before she hits the crash mat, her fingers pressing to Wednesday's neck for a pulse.
"She's dead! No, wait, that's a beat. Is that a beat? Is she dead?" Enid panics.
"She's alive. I forgot to mention that the antivenin takes a moment to kick in. She'll wake up soon," Pugsley says, turning the video camera off and walking back to his desk.
"You forgot to mention?!" Enid yells. "I am experiencing cardiac arrest here! We do not forget to mention that I'm gonna basically kill my girlfriend for a minute because that is mean and cruel and perfectly in character for an Addams. Why am I surprised?" Enid's rant trails off as she looks back at Wednesday.
"Girlfriend?" Pugsley barely manages to get out.
Enid doesn't seem to hear him, or she's ignoring him. Enid is too busy cupping Wednesday's cheeks, their faces inches apart as she waits for Wednesday to wake up.
Pugsley is waiting for Wednesday to knock Enid away when she wakes up. Waking up from poisoning can be disorientating, even for an Addams. He would be surprised if she isn't disorientated.
But Wednesday's eyes open, and Pugsley swears to god, Wednesday smiles.
"I didn't kill you," Enid whispers.
"You didn't kill me," Wednesday whispers back. "You worry too much, cara mia. It must be exhausting."
"It's not exhausting. It's never exhausting. Not when it's you," Enid whispers.
Wednesday brings her hand up to cup Enid's cheeks, tracing her fingers over Enid's unmarked but flushed skin. Enid smiles, then leans down and kisses Wednesday. Wednesday kisses back.
Pugsley feels like taking a Widow Bite to the chest and letting himself die to stop being a third wheel right now.
He doesn't. Instead, he walks over to his desk and sits down, picking up a pen and grabbing his notebook to write the results for the Widow Bites.
Widow Bites Test Results:
Technology is impeccable, as expected. Antivenin administered in time and successfully returned Wednesday to us.
Warning for future self:
Near death scares will result in public displays of affection between Enid and Wednesday.
Notes:
They're girlfriends. That is, somehow, both surprising and unsurprising.
Pugsley closes his diary over, risking a look across the room. They're not kissing anymore, instead lying on the crashmat together with their hands intertwined.
"Girlfriends," Pugsley says.
"For now," Wednesday says.
"That's... horrifying," Enid frowns. "For now? Are you gonna kill me, or something?" Enid laughs weakly.
"Quite the opposite. I intend to marry you one day. Then you would become my wife. Correct?" Wednesday says.
Enid turns redder than her suit, nodding her agreement because words seem to fail her, then kisses Wednesday again. Pugsley opens up his diary again, adding a line to the notes section for the Widow Bites test.
Notes:
They're girlfriends. That is, somehow, both surprising and unsurprising.
Wednesday intends to marry Enid one day. It is not the poison talking.
Well, Pugsley supposes he knew better than to be surprised on this one. He'd forgotten the golden rule: Except the unexpected, except when Enid Sinclair was involved. Then you had to except anything, everything, and nothing.