Not Alone

Enid had never tried CPR before. Even in her unfinished first aid course, they covered the topic, but she never stuck around long enough to get any practice, something she regretted the moment she realized Wednesday wasn't breathing.

"Wednesday!" she cried out, shaking her gently, "Wednesday, please!"

For a moment, everything she learned in that course escaped her brain and she had no idea what to do. She pressed her fingers to her neck and found the slightest relief when she felt a weak and rapid pulse under her fingertips, but it didn't provide much comfort considering it didn't change the fact she wasn't breathing.

The paramedics would be there any moment, assuming they weren't locked out, but she wasn't breathing!

Enid knew what to do, at least in theory, but in her panic, her mind had gone blank and it wasn't until Thing snapped his fingers that it all flooded back and she nodded, shakily moving Wednesday's injured arm out of the way so she could start chest compressions. She closed her eyes as she did so, wracking her brain to remember everything she had learned that one summer when she tried to take that course. There was a song that they were supposed to think of to make sure they got the rhythm right… what was that song? Right. Staying Alive. How appropriate.

The act of trying to give Wednesday CPR had awakened some of the deeper aches in Enid's battered body, but it didn't stop her. What stopped her, just for a split second, was the sound of a bone snapping and Enid let out a panicked squeak when she realized she broke a rib.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, wincing on Wednesday's behalf, cursing her werewolf strength, but Thing assured her that it was OK, it happens and to keep going. Broken ribs sucked, but it was better than not breathing.

Enid mumbled the lyrics to the song that she knew, which really was only part of the chorus while she wondered what was taking the paramedics so long to get there. Were they locked out? Did they not realize how serious it was? Maybe it was only a couple of minutes, but to Enid, it felt like an eternity.

Finally, Wednesday gasped, her back arching off her bed as she took a deep, wheezy breath.

Enid leaned back to give her a bit of room and she exhaled in small relief, "Oh thank god…"

Still gasping for air, Wednesday's eyes opened for a moment, just a moment. But in that moment, there was recognition in them as her eyes locked on Enid's. She looked desperate and terrified as she gasped to take in air, her dark eyes sparkling from tears, silently pleading for help.

"Hey," Enid soothed, holding back a sob, "you're going to be OK." Enid hoped that she wasn't lying. "I'm here, I got you, I got you…"

Wednesday's eyes slid closed and Enid shook her head, giving her a gentle shake, "No, no, stay with me, stay with me…" but she fell unconscious once again just as Enid heard a knock at the door.

The paramedics had arrived.

A wave of terror and relief washed over Enid as she let them in.

They knew what to do, they could take care of her.

She watched in a daze as they worked with a terrifying urgency, and hoped that they weren't too late.

~~W~F~A~~

The doctors wouldn't let Enid see Wednesday.

The paramedics let her ride in the front of the ambulance with them on the way to the hospital, but as soon as they arrived and pulled into the ambulance bay, she was escorted to the waiting room by security and could only catch a glimpse of Wednesday as the paramedics took her into the ER where she could see through the glass doors that a team of doctors were waiting. Thing secretly hitched a ride so he could stay with her. He knew how to stay hidden and Enid took some comfort in knowing that at least she wasn't alone.

Enid had tried to argue as they led her to the waiting room, "No, I need to be with her!" she protested, but one of the triage nurses said they would call her when she was ready for visitors.

It wasn't until they threatened to have her kicked out of the hospital altogether that she reluctantly relented and in a daze, she collapsed into one of the chairs in the waiting room.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there. Her eyes were burning from lack of sleep and crying so much, and she zoned out a little. When she closed her eyes, she could only see Wednesday's pallid and still face juxtaposed with the pleading terror in that brief moment she regained consciousness.

About three minutes. That was roughly how long Wednesday had stopped breathing. Enid was told that much longer and there would've been no coming back. The paramedics had arrived literally just in time. Not only that but despite her lack of experience had Enid not attempted CPR, they most likely would've been too late.

When Enid was told this information, she figured they were trying to be comforting, but all it did was make her feel worse. It meant that Wednesday nearly succumbed to an injury twice in just a little over a day. Maybe if she brought Wednesday to the hospital or infirmary sooner, she never would've taken such a serious turn for the worse.

She could even hear her mother's voice, in her head, scolding her for being such an idiot and a pushover. But for what the wound turned out to be, everything had happened so quickly, and she knew it was bad but she had no idea that it would end up turning into this. She just wanted to help and do the right thing.

Enid felt a panic attack brewing as she sat in the waiting room, she clutched her knees to try to stay grounded and keep it at bay, flinching when she accidentally let her claws out and lightly punctured her skin. She exhaled slowly with a shudder and retracted them, balling her hands into fists, focusing on her breathing, thinking about yesterday when Yoko coaxed her out of a panic attack.

Breathe in…breathe out…

Slowly she inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the memory of Yoko's soothing voice.

In…and out…

But the intrusive and recent memory of Wednesday's second near-death drowned out Yoko's voice. Wednesday stopped breathing. Enid had to do CPR and barely knew what she was doing. She hurt her trying to save her. She stopped breathing… For all Enid knew, the next time someone with the hospital staff came to talk to her, it would be to tell her that Wednesday was dead.

She tried to find something else to focus on.

Wednesday was not dead. She was not going to die. They were going to do what Enid couldn't, they were going to save her. Wednesday was strong and resilient and far too stubborn to die. If anyone was going to pull through, it was her.

But even she had her limits. She nearly bled out…

I'm not going to let you die alone…

If it weren't for Goody healing her, she would be dead. What Enid didn't understand was why she wouldn't heal her again. Surely, she would want her descendant to live, right? Or was it because Wednesday had already done what she had to do by killing Crackstone so she was no longer useful? Enid's claws slowly creeped out again at the thought, threatening to cut into her palms.

"Goody," she whispered, "if you're here…please…I can't lose her."

It was getting hard to breathe normally and quell the panic inside.

Wednesday, in her feverish stupor, had said she didn't want Goody to heal her. Why would she say that? Did she want to die? That didn't make sense.

She tightened her fists, trying to focus on calming down. She couldn't get herself sick with worry. Wednesday needed her.

You're such a disappointment…

Her mother's voice echoed in her head. She had said it often enough that it was always present during her panic attacks because a Sinclair should not be so weak as to have a panic disorder. How could someone with such a powerful werewolf lineage have a panic disorder? And she was a disappointment. Wednesday needed her and despite trying so hard to do the right thing, she did everything wrong.

No dear, you've been wonderful…

Enid sucked in a shaky breath at the memory of Wednesday's mom, reassuring and comforting her even though her daughter's health was rapidly declining. She could've easily scolded her for waiting so long to get help, but she didn't. She was so kind and Enid did not want to let her or Mr. Addams down.

We are so grateful…Don't leave her side…She needs you now more than ever.

And yet here she was. Not at her side, but in the waiting room, all alone and having a stupid anxiety attack. She still hadn't texted them like she promised but her hands were shaking so much she couldn't do it.

Enid, you're such a disappointment…

"No…" Enid murmured, this time letting her claws dig into her skin, willing her claws in her left hand to come out. She had never used self-harm as a way to cope before, but anything to distract her from the intrusive thoughts fueling her panic was worth trying. But the sting from her nails digging into her palm and the warmth of fresh blood was not helping and she retracted her claws again. She opened her left hand and stared at the four parallel puncture wounds, wondering what she was thinking. They didn't go deep, only going in enough for the shock of the pain to stop her from doing more damage, but two of them were bleeding heavy enough for the blood to drip down to her wrist.

She watched the thin twin trails with fascination for a moment, feeling even worse about herself, and more alone than ever.

No dear, you've been wonderful….

Enid forced herself to draw in a deep, calming breath, focusing on the memory of Mrs. Addams's voice. That's what she needed to focus on. Not her mother's influence, not her own self-doubt, but the positive. The people who believed in her. The things she did right.

She wolfed out and saved Wednesday from the Hyde. She looked after Wednesday to the best of her ability. Despite her aversion to blood, she helped Thing clean and dress her wound. She did what she could. And when the worst happened, despite only having a rudimentary knowledge of what to do, she managed to get her breathing again. She saved her. She was still alive because of Enid's efforts. Enid had to hold on to that truth to keep the negative thoughts at bay.

Mrs. Addams was right, Wednesday needed her more than ever, so she needed to stay strong. For her.

Enid closed her eyes and focused on breathing and calming down. She needed to be prepared for whatever came next, if…when the doctors saved her. Whatever happened, Enid wasn't going to leave her side, whether Wednesday liked it or not.

Eventually, Enid's breathing evened out, the tightness in her chest from her panic subsided, as did the tension in her body, and she dropped her head forward, completely spent and so exhausted that even though it was uncomfortable in the waiting room and her battered body ached deeply, she could hardly keep her eyes open.

Blinking slowly until she was too tired to keep her eyes open any longer, she remembered with acute clarity what Wednesday had said their first evening as roommates.

We all die alone Enid.

She had said it again in the crypt, while she was dying, practically begging her and Thing to leave her.

No, I'm not leaving you.

And she didn't. She wouldn't, no matter how hard Wednesday tried to push her away.

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.

She needs you now, more than ever.

Even though she wasn't allowed to be there physically by her side while the doctors treated her and worked to save her life, Enid wasn't going to leave her. Wednesday could try and push her away, and pretend to be fine when she was so badly hurt all she wanted, but she didn't have to. Not around Enid. Enid would never think less of her for it. She was with Wednesday in spirit, she was not leaving her. Subconsciously, she mentally reached out to her. She needed Wednesday to know that she did not have to fight her battles alone.

"I've got you," Enid whispered as she drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, "I'm not leaving you."

~~W~F~A~~

The world was dark and shrouded in a thick haze of fog and smoke, making it hard to breathe.

Wednesday wasn't sure where she was, or how she got there, but she felt uncomfortably hot deep in her core, and yet there was a chill in the air that made her shiver.

Something wasn't right. She could feel it in her bones. But she didn't know what, or how, or why. But she was determined to figure it out, and maybe if she could figure out where she was, she could figure out what was wrong and fix it.

She wandered through the darkness, curious about her surroundings. The smoky fog was so thick she could barely see two feet in front of her, all she knew was that she was in some sort of forest. The air smelled of Sulphur and cedar, branches from nearby trees would occasionally catch on her dress and hair, and the ground was uneven and muddy, weighing her down, but the path was clear of debris. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, but nonetheless she trudged forward. Sooner or later she would find answers.

It was unsettling. Not only did she not know how she got there, she couldn't even remember what she had been doing before suddenly finding herself in this strange place. Was this a vision? If so, what triggered it? She tried to think of the last thing she remembered and yet drew a complete blank.

If it was a vision, this one was different from the others she had. But she could hardly recall what her typical visions were like. Now that she thought about it, she could barely recall anything about her life. And yet, she still knew who she was. She still knew who her family was and her friends were, and that she even had friends to begin with, and there were core things that she just…knew, but the memories just weren't there. Everything about her life prior to arriving in this place seemed so vague and out of reach – like it had all been a dream and now that she was awake, she was quickly forgetting. But that couldn't be right. Could it?

"Goody?"

She called out the name of her ancestor, needing her guidance. The longer she walked through the dark, the more apprehensive she became. It wasn't because of her surroundings. The darkness, the fog, the trees…it would be the perfect place to make a lovely summer home. It was everything else that was disturbing. Why couldn't she remember anything? Why was she here? Was this a dream? Was this a vision?

"Goody!" she called again.

If this was a vision, shouldn't she be able to see what it was supposed to be showing her? She couldn't see anything and she felt truly lost. Where was Goody? She would have answers, or at least be able to give clues to point her in the right direction.

"Where are you?" she demanded, but Goody was nowhere to be found.

She trudged on, trying to find her way through this seemingly endless darkness. Time seemed to have no meaning and she wasn't sure how long she had even been walking. Had it been hours? Days? Weeks, even? The more she tried to think, the more her head hurt from the strain of trying to remember.

She coughed as the smoky fog grew thicker, and it became harder and harder to breathe.

"Goody?" she choked out, her footsteps getting heavier as she became weighed down by the mud.

She tried again to think, to remember. But it was fading away. She was fading away.

Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, to call out the name of her guide…her ancestral guide who was supposed to help her with her visions but the name died on her lips as her memory of her seemed to vanish so all she could do was call out, "Hello?"

As she tried to take a step forward she stumbled to her knees, landing in the thick mud. She was stuck. Not just stuck, she was sinking.

Was this a vision? If so, what triggered it? What was it supposed to show her? How did she get here?

Someone was supposed to guide her. Help her make sense of her visions and learn to control them… or wait, she couldn't do that. She could only learn to navigate them or drown…

She sank even further.

How did she even know this? She could hardly remember her own name.

"Hello?!" she called out again, looking for her guide…what was her name again? How did she forget…. had she been mistaken? Was everything she thought she knew and could no longer remember just a dream and this…this strange place was real?

No, no, no… this had to be a vision. But what triggered it? What was it supposed to show her?

She coughed. It was so hard to breathe. Her head was spinning. The ground beneath her feet turned to thick liquid and she sank even further, like something was trying to pull her down by her feet.

Desperate to free herself she tried to grab something to hold onto to pull herself out. But there was nothing. She couldn't see anything and she couldn't breathe. "Hello?" she called out, seeking…someone, but she couldn't remember who. There was no one.

She was alone and she was completely lost and completely stuck. She was going to die here. Alone.

Everything she had known about her life had disappeared from her memories, leaving behind only the ghost of a vague sense of who she once was. She knew that the darkness was once something she welcomed and that she desired to be alone…except all the light from her memories was gone, so how could she appreciate the darkness and find comfort in it without the light to balance it? And what good was being alone when there was no one at all? There was no one that she remembered who cared about her. Did she even have people who cared about her? She did not know.

This was more than just being alone, this was pure loneliness and isolation, and it was all-consuming, permanent and absolute.

She sank even further. The liquid was up to her waist.

Maybe she should stop fighting and let Death take her. Perhaps it would be better to die alone than exist in this seemingly endless dark, lonely place.

Unless…

Was she already dead? Was this what death was like?

She couldn't remember anything about her life except a sense that she had been betrayed by someone she trusted, and because of her, people got hurt and she deserved to suffer for it. Is this what this place was?

Was she doomed to exist as a lost soul with no friends, no family, no history, no name?

She struggled to escape the sinkhole she was in, but she only sank further. Now it was up to her chest. She was aware of pain in her body, and while at first, it was a dull ache, it crept up on her until she could hardly stand it. It hurt to move her arm, it hurt to breathe, everything hurt to the point of agony.

Maybe she wasn't dead. Maybe she was dying.

Either way, it was hopeless.

A desperate cry escaped her throat, where was she? How did she get here? Who was she? She couldn't see anything and while she was so profoundly alone, she sensed another presence nearby, taking pleasure in her torment.

Though she could hardly see two feet ahead of her, she felt its shadow looming over her and it terrified her.

Suddenly the bottom of the muddy liquid vanished and she went under. She pushed her way to the surface and choked and sputtered as she tried to keep her head above the surface, but her body was so weak, and she was so tired and there was a shooting pain that kept her from moving her arm. She was going to drown.

There is no controlling a raging river. You must learn to navigate it without drowning.

The thought echoed through her mind, like a distant, long-forgotten memory.

"I can't," she choked out, gasping for breath.

There was no hope, no light, no escape. She was so tired, she could no longer fight to tread water, so she let go and surrendered.

The last thing she saw before the watery abyss swallowed her whole was a hand reaching out from the darkened void, grabbing onto hers and pulling her to the surface. The only detail that she could make out was that the fingernails were painted like a rainbow.

I've got you. I'm not leaving you.