Not Alone

Enid was at Wednesday’s side within seconds.

She appeared to be having a seizure or maybe another vision. Despite being roommates and close friends, Enid didn’t have much experience with Wednesday’s visions to be able to tell.  From her perspective, they looked more or less the same.

The first and only time she had witnessed Wednesday having a vision, she thought it was a seizure.  It was during the disaster of a surprise birthday party and when she brushed her fingers along the inscription in the stone at the crypt, she had gone stiff and fell back.  Enid was scared then because she was unresponsive for a few seconds, but then, just as suddenly, she was fine, albeit a little frazzled.  She had climbed to her feet, turned to glare at everyone for a moment and then wordlessly left, leaving Enid bewildered and dumbfounded and hurt. 

When she found out that it was a vision, at first Enid was relieved, but after their falling out, while lying awake one night in Yoko’s room unable to sleep because she was so upset by what happened, Enid realized that it actually wasn’t something to be relieved about.  During those few seconds, she was completely incapacitated and vulnerable – which could be dangerous in some situations.  And later, Enid learned from Thing that while most of her visions only lasted a few seconds, sometimes they lasted a few minutes, and once, on Outreach Day, she had one that lasted almost an hour. Sometimes they were violent and though she wouldn’t show or admit it, sometimes they had lingering side effects. 

Enid decided that it had to really suck to have visions like Wednesday did and realized that there was a lot she didn’t know about psychics.  She once watched one of Vincent Thorpe’s shows, and his visions looked nothing like Wednesday’s.  She kept meaning to ask Wednesday more questions, but it was hard to find her in the right mood for that sort of thing and she didn’t know any other clairvoyant-type psychics that she could ask. 

For the most part, Enid was still pretty clueless.

So, when Thing woke Enid up and she rolled over to see Wednesday, struggling to breathe, her body tense, her back arched off the mattress, writhing like she was in great pain, Enid wasn’t sure if it was a seizure or not, but judging by Thing’s panic, it didn’t matter what they called it, it was bad.

Enid grabbed her uninjured shoulder and tried to turn her to the recovery position so she wouldn’t choke on her own tongue, but she was so rigid she wouldn’t budge.  Enid touched her pale yet flushed face and let out a whimper.  Her fever had gone up dangerously high and the area surrounding the bandage on her shoulder was swollen and red, with dark lines branching out. She didn’t even have to look under the bandage to know the infection in her wound was getting worse and it was spreading.  

“No, no, no…” she whimpered, “shit!”

Enid thought it was bad before, but this was something else. She wasn’t an expert, but she knew enough to know this wasn’t normal. It shouldn't have gotten this bad this fast.  It didn't make sense.  But Enid wasn't going to waste time questioning it, not right now.  Without a second thought, she rushed out of the room to get the ice packs from the freezer.  She needed to get her temperature down. She grabbed the ice packs and a fresh cloth and hurried back to her side. 

Whatever had been happening, whether a seizure or vision or something else, had stopped, but she was still in distress.  Tears were falling freely from her eyes as she whimpered softly, and it seemed to take up all her energy just to draw in a wheezy breath and she still wasn’t taking in enough air. Her lips, though ghastly pale, were starting to take on a faint bluish hue. 

“No, no, no…” Enid murmured as she placed the ice packs around her body before sitting next to her on the bed, “Wednesday, wake up,” she said, nudging her uninjured shoulder gently as she lightly brushed the wet cloth over her face and neck.  Wednesday rocked her head and moaned, but didn’t wake, though the way her eyes fluttered, she did seem to be trying.

“Thing?  What do we do?” she asked, knowing that she should do what she should have done hours ago.  Heck, maybe she should’ve done it last night when she first found Wednesday passed out. Then maybe it never would’ve gotten this bad.

“God Enid, you’re so stupid!” she muttered under her breath. “Thing? Hand me my phone…I…I’m calling an ambulance.”

Thing pointed out that Wednesday would probably never forgive her if she did.

“I don’t care! Do you?”

Without hesitation, Thing scurried to her side of the room to retrieve her phone. 

“Wednesday, this is your last chance…wake up,” Enid begged, “or I will call that ambulance.”  That was a lie. Enid was going to call them whether she liked it or not but she needed some sort of sign that Wednesday wasn’t dying on her.

She let out a soft moan and whispered faintly, “No.”

Enid perked up, leaning in close so she could hear her better, “Wednesday?”

“N’ don’…” she mumbled quietly, her eyes fluttering as her face scrunched in pain.

“I have to,” Enid whimpered, her eyes welling with tears, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I know how much you didn’t want to go to the hospital but you’re getting worse.  That was the deal.”

“Please…”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’…don’ do it, Goody…”

Enid leaned back, “Goody?  Is she here?” Enid shook her gently, “Wednesday, is she here?” Enid looked around the room as Thing returned with her phone.  For a moment, Enid was hopeful.  If she saved her once, maybe she would save her again? 

Wednesday’s eye fluttered open and she weakly reached up and clutched at Enid’s pyjama sleeve, every breath she took was wheezy and strained, “Goody, I don’t want this…don’…”

Enid’s heart sank, disappointed.  “It’s me, Enid.”

“Goody I can’t…I…don’…”  Wednesday’s eyes were open wide, yet unseeing.  “What’s gonna happen…t’me…if…”

“If what?”  Enid asked.  She wasn’t sure why she was even trying to make sense of what she was saying. It was clear that she was delirious and unaware of where she was or who she was talking to, but still, Enid hoped that maybe she could get some insight, or maybe bring her to reality.

“I…I n-need t’ know…” she muttered, her chest heaving as she struggled to take in a decent breath.

“Know what?” 

“I can’t…” she breathed, “I don’ wan’ this… Find someone else...”  She seemed scared. 

“Wednesday, wake up, you’re dreaming…”

“Don’ do it…I won’ let you...”

“What?  Heal you?” Enid asked, tightly clutching the phone Thing had just handed her.  Wednesday let out a soft sound that told Enid that her guess was right.  “Why?”

“I’d rather…jus’ let me d…” she stammered as she drifted back into unconsciousness. 

“No, NO!” Enid exclaimed, “Stay with me!  Wednesday, why don’t you want Goody to heal you?  Is she here?”  Enid looked around the room, gripped in panic, her mind taking her back to the crypt where Wednesday was still dying.  She couldn’t go through this again.  Not now.  Not ever.  Wednesday might no longer have a knife in her gut, she may have been healed from that, but the arrow wound was turning out to be just as insidious, and just as painful and deadly.

For all Enid knew, it was just like before, except this time, Wednesday refused Goody’s help. Why would she do that?  Or was she simply delirious and Goody wasn’t even there at all?  Either way, there were implications that offered no comfort. 

She looked around the room again, “Goody, are you here?  If you’re here, help her, please!”  She waited a moment for any sign that Wednesday’s ancestor’s spirit was in the room with them but there was none.  The room was eerily quiet aside from Wednesday’s shallow, wheezy breaths.

Enid wiped away the tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry,” with shaky hands, she unlocked her phone and dialled 9-1-1.

The call itself was harrowing.  Enid was not following Nevermore’s emergency protocol – but she didn’t know how she possibly could anymore.  If there was an emergency in the dorm, the first person that Enid should talk to was supposed to be their Dorm Mom who was supposed to assess the situation and call 9-1-1 if necessary, and if she wasn’t available, Principal Weems.  It was a reality that crashed into Enid the moment the dispatcher asked what the emergency was.

Principal Weems was dead, and their Dorm Mom was the one who killed her and the one who was essentially responsible for Wednesday’s condition in the first place.  Enid loved Ms. Thornhill.  She trusted her, respected her, admired her and even sometimes wished that she was her real mom…and she betrayed them all – especially Wednesday, and Enid took that personally.  How could someone who seemed so kind turn out to be so evil?

As she spoke to the dispatcher, the full weight of that reality slammed into her and Enid slid to the floor by Wednesday’s bed trying her best to keep it together and not break down but it was hard.

Even though Thing was right there, even though Yoko was only one floor down and had her back, even though help was now on the way, Enid suddenly felt more alone than ever. 

The dispatcher wanted her to stay on the line, but Enid reached the end of her rope and she hung up, letting the phone drop to the floor as she broke out into sobs.

Calling for help may have been the right thing to do, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right. She did the thing that Wednesday had begged her not to, and Wednesday was not the pleading type. 

She let Wednesday down.

But what else was she supposed to do?  Let her die?

Thing comfortingly patted her shoulder and Enid reached and curled her fingers around his. She knew he was scared too.

For a moment, there was only silence except for the sound of Enid’s quiet sobs and Wednesday’s laboured and wheezing breaths. It hurt just listening to it. She wouldn't be surprised if the infection had spread to her lungs. It was too much and Enid was terrified.  

After a moment, Enid managed to calm herself enough to achingly pick herself up off the floor so she could get ready to go.  The bruises and scratches on her body flared as she bent over to retrieve her phone from the floor where she had dropped it, harshly reminding her of her own injuries. 

Suddenly, a voice filled the room and startled Enid so much that she jumped and nearly dropped it again.

“Hello?” the voice said.

Enid froze, “Hello?”

“Enid, is that you?” the voice asked.

Thing pointed to the source of the voice and Enid turned to see that Wednesday’s crystal ball was glowing.  Enid carelessly wiped the tears from her eyes and hurried to sit at Wednesday’s desk where she was met with the faces of Wednesday’s parents and she wondered why they would be trying to call at such a ridiculous hour.

“Mr. and Mrs. Addams,” Enid said, just as weirded out by the crystal ball as she was when they had called the night before, “um…now’s not the best time…Wednesday’s…”

“We know,” Morticia said, “that’s why we’re calling at this hour.  I had a horrible dream. Just now.  What happened?  What’s wrong with Wednesday?  Can we talk to her?”

Enid shook her head, “I’m sorry, no, she’s uh, sleeping right now and really out of it.  She’s sick…like really sick,” Enid’s eyes burned from unshed tears, on the verge of breaking down yet again, “and she’s hurt and I…I don’t know what to do.  I… I tried... I tried to help but…”

Wednesday’s parents exchanged glances and Morticia clutched at her chest, “What happened to her? I know something had happened to her last night, I felt it.  And when she never called back…  Please, Enid, tell us everything.”

“I um, I don’t know where to start…” Enid wiped away a tear. She really didn’t know what to tell her. She knew that Mrs. Addams was psychic, but how much did she know?  She didn’t think Wednesday would want them to know that she had been fatally stabbed and miraculously healed, but did they know about it already?

To her surprise, Morticia smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, “It’s all right dear.  Just tell us what you can.”

“H-how much about last night do you know?”

Morticia closed her eyes and dabbed away a tear with a black cloth as Gomez wrapped his arm around her, kissing her hand before he answered her.  “The school had told us about the attack, and about Laris…Principal Weems’s death.  And Tish…she had a vision last night that told her our Storm Cloud was at the centre of it.”

“I told you Gomez, it was more than that.  I saw her die,” she said, dabbing away more tears, trying to keep her composure.

Enid’s breath hitched, “Did you…see how?”

She shook her head, “My visions aren’t as vivid as Wednesday’s, especially when they’re as dark and foreboding as the one I had last night.  But I felt it.  She was alone and in pain and then nothing.” 

“But she didn’t die, my love,” Gomez assured her, “our little scorpion is a survivor.”

“I know, and I am grateful, but it doesn’t make sense, I know what I felt…”

“She was injured,” Enid said, squeezing her eyes shut to try and will the image of Wednesday bleeding out on the floor of the crypt out of her mind, “and it was bad, but she survived.  We, er, me and Thing thought we had taken care of her injuries but…” Enid glanced over at Wednesday and Thing and then back to Wednesday’s parents.

Why did she feel like she let all of them down?

Gomez smiled grimly and nodded as he lovingly held his wife in comfort, “And we are so grateful that she has you two looking out for her.  I imagine it was difficult, we know how stubborn she can get, especially when she’s unwell.”

Enid couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.  It was almost cathartic.  Almost. “You’re telling me.”

“It looks like you didn’t escape unscathed either, are you all right?” Gomez asked.

She nodded, “I’m fine, thank you.  Just some scratches and bruises…but Wednesday…she’s not doing so good. It’s bad…She’s only gotten worse.  I’m sorry, I tried, I really did…”  Enid took a shaky breath, not wanting to be the one to tell her parents just how bad it was, but someone had to tell them.  They needed to know. “I just called an ambulance.  They’re actually on their way right now.”

“Why?” Gomez asked, though Morticia reacted as though she already knew. “Is it really that serious?”

“One of her wounds is infected,” Enid explained, “she’s got such a high fever that I’m scared she might be going into septic shock, and she had lost a lot of blood, like a lot.  She didn’t want to go to a hospital but Thing and me, we did all we can.  It’s not enough.”

Gomez and Morticia exchanged glances, “What kind of wound?” Morticia asked.

Enid swallowed hard, “She had been shot in the shoulder with an arrow.”

“An arrow?  How exciting! Those can leave the most interesting scars,” Gomez said, sounding like he was proud, though his face betrayed how concerned he really was, “but to be septic already?  Doesn’t makes sense.  It takes days for a wound to fester long enough for that.”

“How did it happen?” Morticia seemed genuinely puzzled.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Enid said, “I wasn’t there. Neither was Thing and Wednesday wasn’t exactly…forthcoming about it.”

“Then tell us what you do know,” she said with a gentle patience that Enid’s own mother had never shown to her before.  Enid would’ve expected her to be much more harsh, and demand to know why she didn’t get her to a hospital sooner, especially considering her daughter’s life was at stake.  Enid thought that would be deserved.  But she and Mr. Addams were both so kind, even though they were clearly worried.

Quickly, and anxiously, Enid told them a brief summary of everything she knew.  She wanted to hurry and finish this conversation so she could get ready to go and look after Wednesday while they waited and she kept glancing in her direction as she spoke. She told them about Tyler, about Thornhill and Crackstone, and what happened with Xavier and the arrow, and how she stubbornly hid the injury from them and practically begged her not to take her to a hospital. 

Enid left out the part where she had been fatally stabbed and then healed by Goody.  She knew Wednesday wouldn’t want them to know, and at this point, they didn’t really need to know.  It might only upset them more.  She would only tell them if they asked, otherwise, it was Wednesday’s story to tell.

“Oh, Wednesday you twisted little martyr,” Gomez beamed, “I can’t believe she took an arrow to save another person’s life and still managed to take down Joseph Crackstone. We have never been prouder.”

“We taught her well,” Morticia added, and though she spoke with pride and admiration, she seemed troubled by something Enid had said when she recounted everything that had happened.  

“Now if only we could teach her to speak up when she’s sick or hurt,” Gomez mused, “but you know her, she can be far too proud for her own good.”

“Yes, she’s never liked to appear weak.”

“A good skill in the face of an enemy...”

“But not when surrounded by those who love her,” Morticia frowned.  “Remember when she broke her finger?”

“Yes, we didn’t even know until a few days later and that was only because she wasn’t playing her cello right because she could no longer properly hold the bow.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell you?” Enid asked, oddly comforted by this revelation, but also saddened by it.

“Because she was embarrassed,” Morticia explained.  “To her, an injury is a sign of error, and illness is a sign of weakness.  She tends to take issue when people find out she’s only human.”

“She doesn’t want people to know she’s capable of being hurt,” Gomez added, his face falling.  “So, you know it’s really bad when she can no longer hide it.”

Enid’s mind went back to when their first night as roommates, when Wednesday told Enid about the last time she cried.  Gomez wasn’t just talking about physical hurt.  There were so many times that Enid caught glimpses of Wednesday having feelings, and how quickly they would disappear and be downplayed. She was understanding Wednesday more and more, especially now that she was in such a vulnerable state.  There was still so much she didn’t understand, but now she had a good idea why, when she was inches from death after being stabbed, Wednesday seemed so calm, collected and accepting of her fate, and why she wanted Enid and Thing to leave, and why it took so long for her to accept Enid and Thing’s comfort and reveal how much pain she was in.

“It’s no wonder she didn’t want a hospital,” Enid muttered.

“Well, that’s one reason,” Gomez said. “But we don’t really trust normie doctors who don’t understand people like us.  We have our own methods of taking care of injuries and illnesses.”

“Oh!” Enid exclaimed, “Was I wrong to call?  Was there something else I should have done?”

“Of course not,” Morticia assured her, “you and Thing had already done everything you could.  Our methods have their limits.  Even Grandmamma and her potions can only do so much, and she’s a Healer.”

“Me and Thing gave Wednesday some tea that her Grandmamma had apparently packed for her,” Enid offered.

Morticia let out a soft sigh, “Oh Grandmamma, such a dear.  Always looking after us, making sure we’re prepared for anything.”

“It didn’t really do much though,” Enid admitted, “except maybe help her sleep, but I don’t know...”

“That’s odd,” Gomez frowned, “it should’ve done something.  And yet… it doesn’t make sense that her wound would be septic or seriously infected already, especially if she had some of Grandmamma’s tea…”

“It’s not a cure-all,” Morticia pointed out, “but still, it should’ve done something to help.  Slow down the progression, at least…”

“Not speed it up…” Gomez’s frown deepened, “Tish…do you think?”

“It’s possible…”

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Enid asked.

“No dear, you’ve been wonderful,” Morticia promised before she locked eyes with Gomez. They stepped away from the crystal ball and spoke to each other in hushed tones. Enid looked away awkwardly, trying to give them some privacy while her mind was reeling from everything that was happening.  She was anxious to return to Wednesday's side, to get ready to leave and for the ambulance to arrive.

“Um, I think I should go.  I need to get us ready to leave.”

“Of course.  And Enid? Take Grandmamma’s tea with you,” Morticia instructed, “Gomez and I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“We will tell you about it later, there’s still more we need to discuss before we can be certain. We may be wrong. Right now, let’s focus on getting Wednesday to the hospital and stabilized.  Keep us updated, and when she wakes, tell Wednesday we will be there as soon as we can.”

Enid nodded, “Yes, of course.  But how will I contact you?  I don’t know how to use this…ball thingie.”

“Just call us,” Gomez replied, as though the answer was obvious, “I’ll give you our number…”

“You have a phone?”

“Of course, we do,” he said, “Wednesday hates them, which is why we communicate with her the old-fashioned way.”  Enid grabbed her phone and entered their number into her contacts. 

“They should be here any minute,” Enid said.  “I’ll text you when we get to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Morticia said, “and thank you for taking such good care of our Wednesday.”

Enid felt like she had actually done everything wrong but she just replied, “No problem." She moved to stand up but a thought occurred to her so she sat back down.  "Oh! Quick question! Is there anything I should tell the doctors?  Anything they should know before treating her?”

“Just to watch out. She will bite if provoked,” Gomez grinned crookedly. Enid, starting to understand their humour, smiled back.  It made the stress of the situation slightly easier to deal with.

“Why do you ask?” Morticia cocked her head to the side, curious.

“Well, uh, Wednesday said she was, afraid, for lack of a better word, of them giving her a transfusion.  Is that a thing to be concerned about?” Enid asked.

They shrugged and vaguely gestured as though to say, ‘maybe’ and Gomez said, “If it’s absolutely necessary to save her life, let them do it.  If not, then maybe it’s better that you don’t let them.  Tell them we said so and to call us if they have a problem with it.”

“Why?”

“Nothing too serious, but there is an old superstition among our family about mixing our blood with that of a stranger,” Gomez said. “It’s an Addams thing.”

“Not just an Addams thing, darling,” Morticia corrected him, “my family has the same superstitions about it – I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s somewhat common among psychic families with Doves in their midst. And Ravens.”

Enid was confused about what she meant by Doves and Ravens and never saw Wednesday as being the superstitious type but she nodded, “OK...”  Was that all?  Was that what Wednesday had been worried about?  Why?

Catching on to Enid’s confusion Morticia added, “Doves and Ravens are a unique type of psychic, I am a Dove, Wednesday is a Raven,” she explained.“Our abilities are strongly linked to our bloodlines, and only one of our blood ancestors can teach us how to use them. The belief is that if you dilute your blood with someone else’s, then your spirit guide in your family tree won’t be able to find you, leaving you to figure it out on your own which…well, it can be a terrible thing.”

“Oh…” Enid nodded, still confused.

“While there had been documented cases of psychics being lost to madness shortly after a transfusion which led to stories being spread, there hasn’t been enough evidence to support the theory that they’re even related, but the superstition lives on.  It’s not something I believe, and I’m surprised that Wednesday would be worried about that – she’s not normally superstitious.  And even if there was truth to it, there’s no reason why Wednesday should be concerned when she already has a mentor.”

“Goody?”

“Yes,” Morticia replied, her face darkening slightly, as though she wasn’t thrilled about it and it only added to Enid’s growing list of questions. But she would save that for another time.

Enid glanced towards the window and saw red and blue flashing lights approaching.  From as high up as they were, the lights were barely visible but they were a welcoming sight.

“Um, the ambulance is here,” Enid said, “I need to go.”

“Of course, dear,” Morticia said, “and again, thank you.”

“We’re so grateful,” Gomez added, “and it’s good to know that between you and Thing, she’s in good hands.”

“And Enid?” Morticia said, “Don’t leave her side.  Please.”

“Never,” she promised.

“Good,” she said, her voice breaking, “she needs you now more than ever.” She smiled, but her chin quivered and she looked like she was about to cry but was trying not to.

Enid smiled and they both gave her a small wave.  She caught a quick glimpse of Morticia breaking her composure and turning away, distraught, a split second before the crystal ball went dark.

Immediately she rushed to Wednesday’s side to check on her.  She brushed her hand against Wednesday’s cheek, wincing at the strain and effort it was taking Wednesday to take in a wheezy breath. “You’re going to be OK.  Help is almost here.  Just… please don’t hate me for calling them.”

She hurried to her side of the room and stuffed a change of clothes and her phone charger into her backpack and then grabbed what was left of Wednesday’s medicinal tea. The paramedics were probably unloading and would be up there any minute now.  Should she pack some clothes for Wednesday?  No. She could worry about that later.  Maybe she should meet them down there so they’d know where to go?  Did she give accurate enough directions to their room?

Wait…is the door to the dorm locked?

“Crap,” Enid muttered, “Thing, I’ll be right back!” she said, heading for the door, ignoring the sound of Thing snapping his fingers to get her attention.  When she reached the door he pounded on Wednesday’s bed frame.  Enid twirled around, “They might be locked out I have to…”

Thing signed for her to listen.

“I don’t hear anything,” Enid said.  But as the words escaped her mouth she realized she couldn’t hear anything. Since she woke up the ragged, wheezing sound of Wednesday's breathing had become almost like white noise, and it was painful to listen to.  But she didn’t hear it anymore.

Enid dropped her backpack and rushed to the bed where Wednesday was lying eerily still.  “No, no, no…” she whimpered, sitting on the bed at her side and cupping her hand to Wednesday’s cheek, her other hand grabbing her uninjured shoulder and shaking her gently.  “Wednesday…Wednesday please!”

She wasn’t breathing.