Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Wednesday woke up the next morning after visiting Eugene in the hospital she had a clear plan in mind. Solid. Concrete. She had not expected her carefully constructed and methodically plotted idea to spiral into what it became by the end of the night.

She had made her way to the Gates mansion after class but had been unable to enter after a cursory inspection of the property. Dilapidated. Abandoned.

It would have been perfect for a lovely family function.

Instead she found her own plot foiled by the presence of an unknown and unexpected variable in the form of Mayor Walker. Of course he would have access to properties without ownership or derelict dwellings in order to maintain some semblance of order where others may take advantage of such empty spaces to use their bodies as some sort of science experiment gone awry.

Wednesday never understood the purpose of illicit substances. It clouded one’s thoughts and judgement in ways that felt wholly unnecessary. She did not begrudge those who imbibed but did not wish to do so herself.

Upon the reception of the new variable in her investigation she decided to abandon her initial task of entering the Gates estate, and instead fitted herself and Thing into the Mayor’s trunk. Unseen, of course, especially after she heard the Sheriff's name on a phone call and the summation that he had come to a conclusion about who was behind ‘all of this’ whatever that meant. When he mentioned the Weathervane Wednesday felt her heart flutter in her chest and she snuffed the warm sensation before it could spread further. This was not the time for sentiment.

The accident had thrown yet another wrench into her careful plot as a blue cadillac careened into the Mayor as he crossed the street, likely in order to meet with whomever he had shared a phone call with prior to his journey back to Jericho proper.

His broken body lay bleeding in the middle of the road as Wednesday tried to see who was behind the wheel of the car and failed miserably at her task.

Donovan Galpin had seen her, incredibly, when she exited the Mayor’s trunk and had taken no time at all in dressing her down at the Weathervane. He’d tried to intimidate her and the attempt was laughable even as he turned off the recorder and leaned in, “I told you to leave this alone.”

“There was an attempted murder right in front of you over this and you want me to leave it alone?”

“Yes! You’re sixteen years old and dating my son and whatever may or may not be going on here I don’t need you dragging him into danger every time I turn around. Don’t you even care about him? If you did, you'd stop putting yourself in harm's way. He’s already lost his mom. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

The words scraped something raw inside her chest but she shoved it down, “That’s precisely the reason I am doing this. To protect myself. Whatever is going on here likely has to do with the Gates family and mine and I will not allow you to continue to push it aside in favor of this town’s reputation. Perhaps you should do some actual police work instead of hiding in a hole and trying to make it all go away with ‘hopes and prayers’.” Wednesday bit back before she stood and stalked away, chest tight, palms warm and her head filled with more and more snarls of possibility and no way to cut the knots that entangled her.

&*&*&*

The next day brought with it renewed purpose and yet more spiderwebbed theories she wrote out by candlelight the night prior. Her discussions with Tyler did not broach the accident and she realized that his father may not have told him about her presence at the Mayor’s unfortunate incident. She was hardly going to offer the information up herself even though it felt important. His father was correct. He did not need to be included in this situation as it did not directly impact him. This was her family history, her investigation, and he could be separate from it as he had reacted poorly to her being in danger prior and she did not need his protective nature to limit her. Especially as his mental well being had been unpredictable a few weeks ago. He had blamed his melancholy and altered personality on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Which was less than two weeks from today. Any added stressors may affect him more profoundly and what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Not like the vision she had weeks ago which had been recorded but not relevant until recently. The written words of warning were stark upon the page they had been inked onto. Old musty air, wooden floors, the sense of abandonment, Tyler’s cry of pain…there were enough correlations the vision could have meant the Gates mansion. She would not allow Tyler to become a casualty of her ambitions the same way Eugene had.

Instead they spoke about menial tasks which included school, his work schedule, discussions of the monotony she was surrounded by as well as she and Enid’s preparatory work for the ‘talent show’ she had been forcibly manipulated into. They practiced for thirty minutes every evening on top of Wednesday’s allotted hour for her novel, the time needed to complete any school work she did not finish in class, her desire to exist in the same space as Tyler, and now Eugene’s hospitalization. She was a creature who thrived under stress but even she did not have enough hours in the day to manage each of these tasks adequately or with the attention to detail they required.

On top of her normal duties she also was now solely responsible for the bees Eugene adored and Wednesday would not fail him. Not again.

&*&*&*

Weems’s school assembly the day after Mayor Walker’s accident had come with an announcement of curfew much to Wednesday’s chagrin. Bed checks were mandatory and those caught breaking the rules would be disciplined accordingly. It threw a wrench into her carefully constructed plans but obstacles were meant to be overcome with ingenuity if not brute force and so she watched, waited and struck when the moment was right.

Enid’s assistance had been gained by careful manipulation of their friendship and favors owed, despite the werewolf’s clear disagreement to Wednesday’s desire to leave campus in order to explore a ‘creepy house’. Wednesday disagreed. It was exactly the sort of activity she enjoyed and Enid would do well to face her fears lest they overtake her senses entirely. She needed to be stronger in order to face what may become her destiny. A lone wolf. This was preparation.

Miss Thornhill came to their room for 8pm and midnight checks. She did not return until 8am the next morning. It was a lapse she took full advantage of when she and Enid made their way down the side of the castle. Enid had only agreed after realizing Wednesday had no intention of backing down and would go on her own if she needed to. The werewolf’s desire to protect her friend enough to overcome her trepidation at the idea of exploring an abandoned building that could be linked to the monster and murders. In truth, they would cover more ground if there were two of them, and at least Enid had a way to defend herself if they encountered any unforeseen obstacles to their task. Wednesday herself carried several throwing knives at any point in the day and practiced with them so often she never missed.

They moved through the woods on high alert, her friend had taken her damnable phone and the dim light of it was unnatural in this place of stillness, of silence. She knew she was likely safer for having Enid here regardless as her senses, though dulled from that of a fully fledged werewolf, would be valuable in detecting any danger before it came upon them. Enid’s expression was filled with anxiety with every step they took closer to their destination. Thing had volunteered to stay behind in order to maintain some semblance of a facade if there should be a hiccup in her carefully, but hurriedly, constructed plan.

They trekked upward toward the area where the house had been and a noise from their left halted her in her tracks.

Wednesday’s attention snapped to the direction of the foreign sound and she moved quickly to lean against a tree while she motioned Enid to join her. Enid’s bright blue eyes reflected the nearly full moon with ease while Wednesday surveyed their surroundings just as she saw a familiar figure emerge from behind a tree of their own.

Tyler’s face held an emotion she rarely saw from him. Frustration. Irritation. Directed at her. He walked up to them, jaw tight, lips thin, eyes narrowed and hissed, “What the heck do you think you think you’re doing here?”

“Sightseeing,” Wednesday’s natural instincts took over as she tried to reassess the situation and failed at seeing her careful plan to keep Tyler out of harm's way disintegrate at her feet.

“Very funny. You told me you weren’t going to do anything without me. You promised.”

“I never promised anything,” Wednesday fired back. “I’m merely going on a walk with a friend.”

“Sure. Yeah. In the middle of the night, in the woods where a kid was just nearly gutted, just going for a walk. Save it, Wednesday. I don’t know why you decided to put yourself in danger. Again. But I’m not going anywhere so you can deal with me being here or go back to Nevermore.” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nailed her with a firm stare as she swallowed.

She wanted to hiss at him, strike out and snarl at him for being so frustratingly stubborn about this. Why couldn’t he see that she only wanted to protect him from all of this, “Who told you about…?” Wednesday let her words trail off and turned to find Enid, eyes flickering from Tyler to Wednesday and she nearly vibrated with energy, “You.”

Enid stomped her foot and squeaked, “You were being so weird about it and even though I’ve got claws, what if the monster actually showed up?”

“So you want to give it more targets?”

“No! But there’s strength in numbers, right? And we can cover more ground? And Tyler wants to help!”

Wednesday glared at the two of them wordlessly, anger prickling at them both before she relented with a sigh, “Fine. Stay close. If either of you end up injured I will make it hurt far worse than any monster might.”

Enid’s shoulders seemed to deflate, her false bravado crumbled under Wednesday's acceptance while Tyler still held his own defensive stance. The tension in his jaw did not abate, nor did his stiff posture, or the way his eyes were filled with something akin to fear, but he chose this. He’d raked her over hot coals with his words and gaze and she would flog him herself if he backed down now. If he was choosing to be the wolf she would let him understand what that meant in her world.

They moved as a unit to the wrought iron gate and slipped through easily. Nervous energy punched the air with each step forward towards the stone structure that had lasted nearly three decades without a resident to maintain it. The construction was likely solid so there would likely be no pitfalls, nor structural issues that would make this venture increasingly unsafe, but there could be some damage from water, or dust, or termites that could be detrimental to the foundational structures.

Wednesday did not approach the front door first, no, she would rather begin in the outbuildings for any clues to this building’s purpose in her visions. Perhaps she would even find the evidence she assumed might be here if her intuition was correct.

When Wednesday reached for the garage handle she felt Tyler’s hand intercept hers, “What are we doing here, Wednesday?” he hissed and his energy lashed around her. A brief flare of their fledgling bond alerted her to a deep sense of dread that was gone with her next heartbeat. Terror. Not just fear as this seemed to be a sensation so deeply ingrained in his mind that it felt nearly overwhelming with barely a whisper of touch. It gave her a moment’s pause, enough that she wondered why he would be so afraid of this place and not anything else she had shown him. Things she had spoken to him that would make lesser men cry in fear and retreat he faced head on. So why here? Why now? What made his entire body stiff while his scent had gone sweet with his apprehension. His eyes shifted constantly as if he expected an ambush and she could see the sweat at his brow half hidden by shadow and moonlight.

“Investigating. I will not allow what happened to Eugene to happen again, Tyler. I need answers.”

“I mean, I don’t like it either, but Wednesday’s kind of right. What if it happens again? Eugene didn’t do anything wrong but he still got hurt and if we can help him, we should. Wednesday says this place has answers and I, for one, want to find out if she’s right. Plus it would make a really fun story for my blog if there’s ghosts here or something.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes before she tried to tug the garage open and found it locked, “Our first obstacle seems to be in the form of a garage door. How pedantic.”

“Oh, hang on,” Enid took the knob in hand and with a sharp tug something snapped behind it and she tugged it open with a self satisfied grin.

“Holy crap,” Tyler muttered.

Enid brushed her sleeves off, “Oh, I know. Ajax thinks it's really hot when I show him how strong I am. Is that weird?”

“Yes.” Wednesday offered, deadpan, and watched Enid pout as she and Tyler lifted up the door to find exactly what Wednesday expected.

“Blue Cadillac. No license plate. It matches the vehicle that struck the mayor days ago. I knew it. They must be using this place as a hideout. But why? The Mayor was right about something and they must have been watching him or the house when they followed him back to town and silenced him before he could oust them to your father.” She addressed Tyler as she walked around the car, triumph fluttered in her breast and she couldn’t help but wallow in her pride for a few moments before she looked toward the door to the right. “That must lead into the house.”

She walked toward it and felt a warm, familiar hand wrap around her upper arm loosely. Enough so that she could pull away if she needed to and she turned to see Tyler’s wide eyes, “We should go. You found the car. We can call my dad and have him come over here and show him this. Then let him bring the cops here to search the place. What if the person who ran Lucas’s dad over is still here? What if they saw us?” His frantic words spilled out of his mouth like a tidal wave to crash into her.

“Why are you so afraid?” Wednesday’s delivery could have perhaps been a little less blunt, but she cared little for subtlety and spared feelings in favor of self satisfaction.

Tyler recoiled slightly, swallowed and Wednesday felt his hand tremble and spasm around her arm before he released her and looked away, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble again. Or hurt.”

“I mean, if there was anyone here I’d smell it, or hear it. Werewolf, remember? I don’t hear anything and I don’t smell anything other than damp air, old wood, and dust.” Enid offered, possibly to assuage his anxiety and her own while the werewolf gave him a hesitant smile and an offered hand of friendship. “I mean, I’m not thrilled about this but Wednesday wouldn’t just lead us headfirst into a dangerous place without thinking about the consequences, right? Right?” Enid’s tone on the second affirmation lifted at the end while Wednesday stared unblinkingly at her before she went to the door.

It was unlocked. Excellent.

She opened the door to find a dark hallway. The scent of mildew, stale air, old furniture and dust infiltrated her senses while she peered into the distance with an increasing sense of a foreboding she normally reserved for her own home, “This is cozy.” She quipped softly and heard Enid’s snort and Tyler’s soft wheeze at her summation before she pulled a flashlight from her pocket and clicked the button to illuminate their path forward.

The floor creaked softly with her weight and the solid press of her boot while she entered the space with a quiet calm. Enid’s slight high pitched tremor of vibrato brought on by unease rung inside her head and felt reminiscent of tinnitus. Tyler’s own tension strummed the air like a too taught bowstring and she could feel it pulse along her skin uncomfortably while he followed.

They moved through the derelict space like ghosts as there seemed to be a disappointing lack of the ethereal in a space that seemed ideal for them to exist. Her discovery of the hidden altar to the bigoted pilgrim Joseph Crackstone did not surprise her as much as it likely should have. It made perfect sense for this family to worship someone like him as they hated Outcasts themselves and went so far as to try to murder a school of teenagers for their hatred. It was not until Wednesday realized they would have to split up in order to cover more ground effectively that she hesitated. Historically splitting a group was not looked upon as a favorable decision. So many times in literature the scenario ended up going poorly when faced with group dissolution but they would need to return to Nevemore sooner rather than later and when Wednesday brought her evidence to Tyler’s father she needed to make him believe her. She needed irrefutable proof of her suspicions or else he would brush her aside. Again.

She expected more fight from Tyler when she brought the idea forth to the others but he had seemed to, at least for now, be calmer than he was when they began. Good. It would not do for him to balk now. Wednesday often enjoyed scouring old abandoned buildings when she was younger. The more dilapidated the better.

^&^&^&

Tyler felt her, felt the chill of her presence like a fly in his ear, a shadow without words, a threat with a name, and his heart galloped in his chest with each new thing that Wednesday did.

From the message he received from Enid half an hour ago on snapchat, to the frantic way he’d dressed and driven here in order to stop her. The prickling order at the nape of his neck made his chest spasm again and his gut clench with a cold overwhelming sensation. This was her space. Master’s space. He had to protect it. Protect her.

But it was Wednesday. He was ordered to protect Wednesday, would have done it anyway with or without the command, and he felt like his head was going to split in two. He couldn’t concentrate on her, not through the din of literally everything else. His guilt, the blood on his hands he started to remember in flashes of agony painted on strangers faces. Then on Rowan’s as Wednesday’s struggle splashed across his psyche with the same amount of concussive energy as a paintball gun.

He knew he must be acting crazy but he felt crazy and he couldn’t hide it tonight. He was too raw. There was too much going on. The circled date on the calendar that marked another anniversary of the death of love and warmth inside his house. His mom’s funeral. Closed casket. Both he and his father had been too cowardly to even try to open it up and taint the memory they held of her light and the soft way she did things. But now he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything through the din of his own self torment. He watched Wednesday and Enid make their way upstairs and took out his phone just as a text flew across the screen from Mark. He moved forward mechanically, unseeing, unfeeling, and the steps across the wooden floors that kicked up dust weren’t being recorded by his brain and instead it felt like he surfaced back to his own consciousness the moment Laurel came into view.

He was losing time. Not much, but enough that he was starting to notice through the way the world had turned grey at the edges after Eugene’s injury. A slow death of color and light to monochrome and sepia and he didn’t know how to make it stop. Wait. No. That wasn’t true. Things were brighter with Wednesday. She’d kill him if he ever said that to her even though it was becoming more and more evident with each heartbeat that he should disentangle himself from her before they both drowned beneath the wave of his secrecy.

Selfish. He was too selfish to let her go now. Not even when he knew it would probably destroy him when she found out. And she would find out. No. He couldn’t think about that now. No. No. No.

Laurel’s face made something inside his head click off and the Tyler he wanted to be drained out of him. A slashed wrist, a storm drain, the descent into madness he teetered on the edge of only too apparent to him now, “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I didn’t know she was planning on doing this today. She didn't tell me.”

“Then what use are you if she doesn’t trust you?” Laurel hissed and the words felt like a slap and he let it happen. “You need to get her out of here. By any means necessary. Alive. Enid is optional. You’ve lost your chance to do it with that pretty face of yours. It’s the monster I need.”

Tyler felt his grip slip on his fragile sanity, “Won’t she get suspicious? This is all going to fall apart if the monster shows up and I’m nowhere to be found!” He hissed back.

“You’re a smart boy, Tyler. You’ll figure it out. I don’t care what it takes. Get her out of here.”

Tyler watched her disappear into a room before his vision blurred and he ground his teeth together as the sting of frustrated tears threatened to turn him just as crazy as his mom probably was before she died. Was this what insanity felt like? A slow death of everything you thought you were until nothing remained but what could survive after?

A cold sort of calculation took over and it was only too simple to begin his shift and tear into his own chest with his claws until the rage poured into him and changed the filter of everything into a sea of red.

It would come back to him in fragments after that he pursued Wednesday and Enid through the house, heard Enid’s screams of terror, Wednesday’s calm analysis of their situation, and the scent of her fear and anger underneath the rest.

He chased them down the stairs into the lab where he knew they shouldn’t have been until they fled out of the window and into the woods.

His strength bled out of him further when he staggered back up the stairs and into his clothes to find his bleary way in the dark, disoriented and distressed to slump against a tunnel wall to wait.

Emotions were a funny thing. The moment he saw her running toward him in the dark with her flashlight held like a weapon he thought he was hallucinating her frantic expression. The fear within those eyes he dreamed about while he panted in real pain, blood seeping from his self inflicted wounds onto his shirt he had hastily thrown on. Her fingers on his skin brought out a groan of relief and she held onto his cheek while she stared into his eyes. For a second he saw it. Her terror. Her fierce passion. The way he didn’t deserve that softness she gave him and swallowed through the tight way his throat clenched down.

Sandalwood drifted through the air and the sound of crunching leaves from nearby made all three of them whirl toward the intruder. Wednesday’s hand had gone to her hip where he knew she probably had a knife holster and affection flared like a roman candle in his chest to pulse along his blood and woke him up. His growl was too low for her to hear but Enid’s eyes flickered in his direction with a question before she sneered at Xavier. The expression seemed out of place on her normally sweet face but he approved.

“What are you doing here?” Wednesday shifted so she stood in front of him and he could have laughed at that. Almost did. Shielding the monster from danger. How fucking funny.

“I saw you guys leaving campus and I heard something about the Gates mansion from Ajax the other day. I ran up here a lot so when I saw what direction you were headed I just wanted to make sure you guys were safe.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe a word of that,” Wednesday bit off. “Altruism is not generally your strong suit, Thorpe.”

“Yeah well it’s a good thing I showed up because that looks serious. If this is what happens to people you like then maybe I’m better off being someone you don’t.” God Tyler wanted to punch Xavier in the fucking mouth again but Laurel’s orders about him had made that fucking impossible.

“That’s not funny, Xavier!” Enid’s voice cut through Wednesday’s careful examination of his chest and the delicate way her fingertips pressed into his ravaged skin. Her eyes were downcast, and her jaw tense while her scent radiated her anxiety more thoroughly than any words could. “You need to quit being such a weirdo stalker! If you saw us leave you could have just tattled to Weems about us instead of doing this fake pathetic concern routine.”

“It’s not fake! I know you guys don’t think much of me but you haven’t been the best to me either so maybe you should take a look in the mirror before you start throwing stones, huh?”

Tyler wanted to high five Enid almost more than he wanted to watch Thorpe bleed but Wednesday's cold reply seemed to cow the two of them pretty well, “We do not have time for this posturing. I do not know where the creature fled to but it cannot be far off and we need to move or else this will not be the only bloodletting that will occur tonight. We have no need for your hovering, Xavier, lest one of you start attacking the other and as much as the distraction would be welcome I have no use for it tonight. Leave.” Wednesday stood up and he watched her nail Xavier with her trademark neutral glare until the male balked under her scrutiny and retreated.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t try to warn you guys.”

“That was weird,” Enid spoke first and Tyler nodded while she helped him to his feet.

“Are you injured elsewhere?”

Tyler feigned a wince and rubbed his back, “Yeah it came out of nowhere and when it tried to take a chunk out of me it threw me into a wall. I don’t know what happened after that. I heard you guys trying to run and wanted to find you but I don’t have a weapon or anything.” Another lie. More lies. He hated this.

“You were correct not to pursue the creature with no way to defend yourself. It was better for you to have found a place to wait for either rescue or for the danger to pass. It would not be ideal for you to have become a liability in our escape.” To anyone else Wednesday would have sounded perfectly normal. Stoic. Untouchable but he saw the way her brow creased. The way her eyes were too wide, too unfocused, and the way she hovered next to him while he held the makeshift bandage made of the outer layer of Wednesday’s outfit. Her scent grounded him, chased away the madness biting away at his ankles, and soothed the ache in his chest that had everything to do with the weight of his crimes.

Enid too, chattered nervously in the quiet air, her words flowed over him the same way a river moved over the rocks on the edges but he didn’t retain any of it. Not when hunger gnawed at his belly and his mind swam with the weight of his guilt at being the reason why she was so scared. And she was afraid, bright blue eyes wide, worried, and full of concern for him. He didn’t deserve it.

The wounds on his chest ached, burned, and tugged with every movement while he led them to his car parked down the road and got in. He drove them back to his house, because what else was he going to do? He couldn’t take them back to Nevermore when they would both get into trouble and he was bleeding all over his shirt and needed to get into the first aid kit in his bathroom. A normal person would probably need stitches or something but he would heal fast and as long as he got them covered up and cleaned he should be fine.

It was the craziest difference between the two girls in his car. One bright and noisy, the other dark and quiet but somehow they connected in ways he couldn’t puzzle out. Wednesday had said maybe two words the whole time while Enid filled the silence with her own brand of coping. Thankfully his dad was still at work or out drinking or something so he could go and get this shit fixed before he got home and started on all three of them.

He led Enid into his house and realized that she’d never been there before. Ajax had. Almost weekly for gaming sessions, but she’d never come with him. Guy time and all, or so Ajax said.

“Where is your first aid kit?” Wednesday’s voice cut through his spiral of self loathing and he stared at her for a few seconds before he finally processed what she’d said.

“Bathroom. Upstairs,” He spoke softly and the ache in his chest felt like it doubled. His heart throbbed, his lungs burned, his chest was too tender and he wanted to scream.

Her face came in flashes of red and in shades of blue, green, yellow, orange and more red while he chased them. While he pretended to be Her monster but refused to actually do anything that would hurt either of them. He watched Wednesday flee up the stairs and jumped when Enid put her hand on his while it rested on the table.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty tender.”

“You must have been scared,” she continued. “I was. I mean, what was that monster even doing there? How did I not hear it? Or smell it? I mean, I’m not a real werewolf or anything but I should have been able to do something useful instead of screaming and running away.”

Tyler felt another pang while he stared at her blue eyes welling with tears, “Hey. It’s not your fault. You can’t be everywhere or know everything. And you are a real werewolf. Don’t let those assholes get into your head.”

Enid smiled, a soft unsure thing, but nodded, “Thanks. I’m just glad it didn’t hurt you like it did the others.”

“Does Ajax know?”

Enid’s sharp inhale and wide eyes told him that he probably didn’t and she quickly took her phone out of her pocket and began to text at a speed he couldn’t comprehend before she put it down. The phone began to buzz almost immediately and she picked it up. He could hear Ajax’s frantic but sleepy panic on the other end.

A flash of black and white caught his eye and he turned to see Wednesday, expression flat, as she walked toward him with the box in hand.

Enid moved away from the table and he tuned out their conversation while she moved to the hallway.

He watched her sit down at the table, observed the methodical way she opened the case. The soft thud of the lid on top of the wooden table. Her scent was muted, a little sour, but he tried not to think about that while her pursed lips took in his state.

Her fingers were gentle, almost wispy when he felt the pressure of them on his chest. She moved to the buttons on the flannel he usually wore and undid each of them in turn. It was slow, almost like she didn’t want to reveal the damage. Her jaw tense, her eyes rooted onto her task, her breath came in quiet inhales and exhales. It was strange to watch her like this. Not the quiet, not the way she arranged herself, but in the way her eyes were filled with something he hadn’t really seen. Not when she was being chased in his fractured memory, not when she faced down the beast in the forest. The first time he saw her see him in the form he’s been forced into that was always sleeping inside his blood. If he didn’t know better he would have called it fear. But he knew better. Wednesday wasn’t afraid of anything. Not monsters, not the dark, not danger or the risk of death, but…he had never seen this before.

His wince when he peeled the shirt away from his ravaged chest was enough that she flinched, imperceptibly, and swallowed again, eyes averted before she went back to the box. Eyes watery but focused.

He wanted to say something. To reassure her. To lighten the mood but every time he thought of a word, a sentence, it stayed on his tongue, just at the tip, and hovered. Nothing seemed right. He didn’t trust his voice to be still, to be normal, to not just burst into tears for reasons he couldn’t tell her even though he wanted to. Or had wanted to. Before Eugene. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

She put a bottle of water on the table, then a few packets of gauze, tape, a larger pad he used before when Laurel’s tender loving care actually made marks on his body he needed to cover up. He watched a bottle of yellow liquid emerge from the box then a packet of what looked like very small bandaids.

First she washed each cut, not too rough but not soft, and wiped the blood that had soaked into his skin and hardened with several swipes of one of the gauze packets. The sound of paper ripping in the stillness that was permeated by Enid’s hushed conversation with Ajax in the other room. Her eyes darted to him occasionally and he tried to give her a small smile each time. When the blood was cleaned off, or most of it, because it was still seeping in some places he cut himself deeper she put down the bottle. Then she picked up the yellow bottle and saw the name. Iodine. He must have looked confused.

“Disinfectant. I don’t know if the monster carries any bacteria that might become an issue if left unchecked and some of these are deeper than others.”

Tyler nodded. “Okay.”

She put the dark liquid on another gauze ripped free from its package and swiped each cut with it. The sting was welcome and he winced a little when it settled into his torn muscle but didn’t complain otherwise.

Next she opened the clear package with the tiny bandaids. He caught the scent of his hand soap on her skin and his chest warmed at the way she smelled familiar in a way that was domestic instead of possessive. With one hand she pinched the parts of his skin together that were separate and placed each tiny bandage with surgical precision. He watched the gape between his skin get less open with every single motion.

Her throat worked again and the words spilled free without his permission, “Thanks, doc.”

Her gaze flickered up to him and he watched some of that…fear…worry? Concern? Melt away a little bit with a gentle twitch of her lip before Tyler heard the front door open and Enid’s squeak of surprise as she quickly fled the hallway back into the living room.

“What the hell is going on here?” His dad’s voice came from the hallway as he rounded the corner and took in the scene. Enid’s frozen frame with her phone to her ear, Wednesday, and then finally Tyler with his shirt open and his wound on full display. “What did you do?” The accusation was firm, cold, and directed entirely at his girlfriend.

Tyler’s protective instincts flared to life as his dad advanced on the two of them and he quickly stood up and put himself between his dad and him, “It’s not Wednesday’s fault, Dad. It was mine.”

“Don’t go defending her. We talked about this, didn’t we? You can’t just lead him into danger! You should know better!”

Wednesday stayed seated and did not argue, which was the weirdest part of this whole thing. In fact, she looked guilty. At least to him, but her cold stare didn’t faze his dad who pointed his finger at her before Tyler intervened again, “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that. She didn’t do anything! I followed her. She didn’t ask me to go and she didn’t put me in danger. She didn’t even want me there!”

“Where?”

“The Gates mansion,” Enid offered, finally. Quiet, and her phone hung by her side, screen dark. “Wednesday–.”

“I don’t want to hear another word about her.” His dad glared at Wednesday behind him despite Tyler blocking her mostly from view.

“I know you are angry, Sheriff, but it wasn’t a complete disaster. I found something you are going to want to see,” She moved around him to settle at his side.

His dad’s glare didn’t go away but he sighed, “And what is that?”

“Evidence that the Mayor was killed for a reason. The car that struck him down was there, in the garage and there is a basement filled with alchemical ingredients, body parts and other instruments of torture and experimentation.”

Tyler felt a chill run down his spine, “You found what?” Of course he knew. He knew where they had gotten out so he could make his way out of the house. Knew that Laurel had probably moved it all while they were busy here. Knew that Wednesday wouldn’t find anything if she took his dad there now.

He didn’t let them go alone. She finished dressing his wound with the rest of those little bandaids and her soft hands. Then watched as she put that big thick pad over it and taped it down to his skin. Then they all went. The four of them went back to the house that lived in his nightmares and found exactly what he knew would be there. Nothing. Save for the specs of blood he spilled ages ago that had all but faded from the concrete.

It made Wednesday deflate, soured her scent, with her frustration evident in her voice as she explained it again. As Enid agreed. But it didn’t matter. Not when there wasn’t anything to be found.

When he drove them back to Nevermore Tyler made one final play, “Can she stay?”

“Tyler.” His dad’s voice was tired.

“Please. Just for tonight. It’s already like 3 in the morning. Can I take her back when I head to school?”

He watched his dad’s hands tighten on the steering wheel while they stared at the gate, while Wednesday watched him with that same careful neutrality peppered with curiosity.

“No. No Tyler. I’m not rewarding you with a sleepover for going out in the middle of the woods with a bear on the loose.”

Wednesday tensed beside him, “A bear? Are you still going with that explanation?”

“Just go.”

Tyler unbuckled his seatbelt and moved around the car to open it for Wednesday, who now had a carefully neutral wall up behind her eyes while she stared at him, “I did not intend for you to be a casualty of my ambitions.” It was simple. A very Wednesday apology and he nodded.

“I know. I’m not mad about it. I made the choice to go when Enid texted me. I knew it could be dangerous and I know you can take care of yourself but you know that you don’t have to, right? But please. Don’t do this again. Okay? You still have to make me regret getting hurt, you know.”

Wednesday didn’t say anything else and instead turned on her heel to follow Enid who had disappeared into the darkness down the walkway to Nevermore.

He got back into the truck and looked away from his dad who he knew was looking at him. Her silhouette faded into the night until she disappeared entirely. He could feel it then. The slow drain on his mind, the fatigue in his body, the ache of his self inflicted wound while the world sort of faded away and greyed out at the edges. Numb. He had to keep her safe. Had to try. Even if she wound up hating him he’d do everything he could to do that. Orders or not.

His dad was talking and Tyler answered but none of the words made sense and he didn’t bother trying to check into the conversation but whatever they talked about must have at least made his dad less upset when he got out of the car and they both went inside.

He went back to his room and saw the notebook he kept like a bible on his nightstand with the white mark of an unread message that simply read.

Sleep well, mi cazador

He didn’t write back. Not yet. Not when he couldn’t think. Not when he felt like his grip on everything was sliding away faster than he could try to catch it.

*&*&*&

Wednesday hated this sensation. Hated the way it rested in her belly like lead, twisted her insides and made her chest feel too tight and she couldn’t catch her breath.

Tyler’s cry of pain flashed in her memory, haunted her steps like a poltergeist unwilling to make a deal, and she had to pivot. Her vision, weeks ago, came true despite her best intentions otherwise. She and Enid had spent that night apart, the werewolf too frazzled to face Wednesday, but the next night, they had spoken. More frankly than any other time. She had put Enid in danger, but it was not as if she knew there would be any danger to face exactly. Wednesday expected lore, expected more history, expected a clue to lead her to her next destination but instead all she had to show for her efforts was a music box, a suspicion, and two people she cared for injured or otherwise upset by her actions.

Months ago Wednesday would have cared little for their comfort. Months ago she would not have made these connections like little liabilities. Discarded them if they proved unable to tolerate her tasks. But now things were so much more muddled. Nuanced. She found she did not wish for her solitude the same way she had before. Not that she wanted constant interaction or stimulation from those who sought to converse with her, but the idea of going back was undesirable. Their friendship was fractured, not more than by a hairline, but enough she would have to reassess how to approach her objectives with more care.

It should have felt like weakness, but it did not. Not in the way she assumed.

Tyler’s wound stood out starkly behind her eyes every time she closed them. The look of pain and fear in his gaze when she returned for him. A terror she had never felt before suffused her. Stole her breath, caused her heart to freeze and spasm with discomfort, and made her doubt her choices. He could have ended up like Eugene, or worse, like Rowan and that was unacceptable.

The very fact that it was unacceptable to lose him was entirely unacceptable in itself. She did not need him. Never. But she wanted him and that was damning enough. Her parent’s footprints lined the sand and though she never wanted to be them it seemed inevitable.

Weems had been rather vexed with their extracurricular outing and assigned them a few days worth of detention and a strict warning to keep to the rules or else a far harsher punishment would be in store.

Wednesday did not fight the consequence to her action and instead pivoted in her investigation. The Gates family had some connections to Joseph Crackstone, perhaps he was an influential figure in the way that bigots often are, or there may be a genetic component she would have to look further into. The only clues were a music box held in a child’s pristine bedroom, the car she knew she had seen, and the basement they ran through where she could only catalogue a few items before they had to flee or be destroyed. It was enough. The missing limbs of the kills this monster accumulated had been there, or at least many of them. Toes, hands, feet, organs, other appendages reminded her perhaps of spell components because why else hold them preserved? They could be trophies but that did not make sense either unless the monster was human or the holder of its leash was perhaps more interesting than she gave them credit for. The parts were specific and not a part of an established pattern save they were all removed from ravaged bodies. Serial killers tended to take the same prize from every victim, perform the same rituals for each body, and have patterns that made sense. None of this made sense.

Wednesday made her way in the coming days back to Jericho daily, either to sit at the Weathervane with her quad and Tyler’s eyes on her, or to his home where they did not engage in any sexual behaviors and instead Wednesday opted to settle next to him on his couch while he played a video game he told her was called “Elden Ring”. By the way he cursed at the screen and the pixels upon it she was confused at the reason for entertaining himself with something that clearly frustrated him. Wednesday journalled, did homework, and read her books while she was with him. The need to be in his presence is overwhelming and necessary as if she were a child in need of success rather than a near adult who should not cling to another person like this. Each day the weight in her chest and belly grew lighter as the wound to Tyler’s right pectoral continued the healing process. She insisted upon managing his care in that aspect, and trusted no one else to make certain it was being tended to appropriately. They did not speak when this occurred, and the only sound in the air was that of the tear of white packaging, each inhale and exhale from Tyler, and her own heartbeat in her ears. She had miscalculated and it had affected others rather than her. A mistake she refused to entertain again.

She served detention, fenced with Bianca, Tyler’s lessons suspended for the moment though he did inquire as to when he might be able to go back. Enid and she had practiced more for their debut at the talent show which Wednesday still believed was a waste of time and slowly the fracture between them began to mend.

Eugene was another issue. She visited him again and found his mothers present while they showered her with their stress and worry and praise for being such a good friend. By her measure a ‘good friend’ would never have allowed him to be placed in a situation where this was the outcome. Kinbott came after and discussed little of note while she continued her weekly therapy sessions.

Until she reached a date on her calendar of great significance to Tyler.

March 20th. The date of his mother’s demise and the anniversary of when his entire life trajectory shifted unfathomably. Death was different for those not in her family but still sacred and she intended on making up for her errors as much as she was able.

It was the spring equinox and classes let out early due to the holiday some outcast families celebrated seriously, like her family. Once she was released from the monotony of classwork, Enid’s insistence on her opinion about a piece of their collaboration she wanted to alter, and a discussion with Bianca about their upcoming tournament she made her way to Tyler’s home.

Picking the lock was far too simple and she would need to inform Tyler of his substandard security on his front door. She expected more from a police officer in the way of home security but the man failed in many other aspects of adulthood in her opinion and therefore this was not a surprise. She and Donovan had exchanged a few words between the mansion and now though he had seen her often now that she decided to linger in his space. They did not resolve their conflict from before, but Wednesday refused to be the one to give ground in this instance. If the man wanted to blame her for his shortcomings he could do so with her apathy.

As it was, the clock read 2 pm and it left her with little time to prepare for Tyler’s arrival home. He usually returned from school between 3:15 and 3:25 depending on traffic and she intended on surprising him with something she made herself. She had spoken to Enid about the best way to celebrate the anniversary of his mother’s death and the werewolf had been confused at first but suggested several activities he may find succor within. Making one’s favorite food was one of them and though she delved in alchemical formulas the box in his cabinet held instructions she had to read at least three times to make sense of.

&*&*&

Tyler parked his car and immediately sensed something wasn’t right as he walked toward his house. Senses stretched to their limit before he smelled smoke and broke into a run toward his front door, which was unlocked, and raced inside before he skidded to a halt once he got into his living room to find Wednesday covered in bits of flour and batter, standing in front of the stove with a look that could have killed a lesser man. Grey smoke filled the air and he coughed before he pulled Wednesday away from the stove that was now on fire. “Holy shit!” And pulled the singed pile of whatever had now fused to the bottom of his pan to throw into the sink as he ran cold water over it. The hiss of the water as it hit a scalding hot metal rang through the air while Wednesday continued to glare at the appliance that had wronged her.

He threw open his back door and as many windows that would open before he turned to her again, “What are you doing here? Why is my house on fire?”

Frustration blanketed her face and she stared down at a plate covered in oddly shaped bits of black, “Whoever invented pancakes should be revived only to be tortured. The instructions were inaccurate and your stove is not efficient. I did not commit arson, however, merely the prelude.”

“What?” Tyler’s confusion only doubled. He’d been having a shitty day and the only thing he looked forward to was the fact that Wednesday would be here. Spent the whole day trying not to think about how fucking drunk his dad would be, the home movies he would watch until he passed out, the way Tyler always went to his mom’s grave alone, cause his dad stopped going years ago. He thought about the flowers he had ordered to pick up later and tried not to break down at school even through the way everything stretched out and fuzzed into grey.

“Enid. This is Enid’s fault.”

“What is Enid’s fault? What were you doing?”

“I inquired about things I could do to perhaps provide comfort to you today, as you had voiced that your mental state had been affected by the anniversary of your mother’s death when we spoke weeks ago. She suggested comfort food. I recalled your fond memory of your mother’s pancakes when we celebrated Dia de los Muertos in November and sought to create them myself.”

Tyler blinked slowly, mouth opened slightly, and felt a pulse of a thread vibrate through his entire body. Like something inside him shifted and pulsed at her admission. She listened to him. Had even done something to try to make him feel better. He flashed back to Laurel’s house, back to her kitchen, back to the lack of privacy in the bathroom, to her touch on his neck, to the smell that used to comfort him turned wrong and something shifted inside of him.

The taste of home became ash in his mouth and he looked back at Wednesday, at the plate of burnt pancakes, and felt a mad laugh crawl up his throat, shove itself out of his mouth in a sharp sound, inhaled then choked out another noise before he let the feeling slam into him and he couldn’t stop the laughter. The shake of his shoulders, the way the world tilted with the lack of oxygen as he collapsed onto the floor, half laughing, half crying but didn’t realize until after when the smell of salt and the wetness on his cheeks clued him in. It was like a shower drain with the plug pulled. He let that memory drain out of him to leave him empty, heart full, and mind clear while Wednesday stared at him, utterly taken aback. Perplexed. That was a good word. Her eyes wide and uncertain, curious, confused, and beautiful.

He stumbled to his feet and pulled her to him, smothered her with his arms and they fell to the floor while he buried his face in her shoulder to continue to let the darkness in his heart he hadn’t even realized had taken root inside him out.

Wednesday froze, held her body perfectly still in his arms, but didn’t pull away.

Eventually the tears slowed, his shoulders calmed, his heart lightened, and he eased his arms from around her while he tried to clear his throat, “Uh. Sorry.” He managed raggedly.

“I am unsure if I should be offended or if this display was not related to my charity at all,” Wednesday replied quietly.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I wasn’t expecting to come home to you trying to cook in my kitchen and nearly burning my house down.”

“This does not explain the emotional reaction which just occured.”

“No. Well, yeah…I just…No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Not for a really long time. I guess it just hit me harder than I thought. I wasn’t laughing at you. Well. Not at the gesture anyway. It’s great.”

“You do not have to lie to me, Tyler.”

“I’m not! But I have to tell you that pancakes aren’t supposed to be black, you know.”

Wednesday opened her mouth, “That’s ridiculous. It is how Lurch prepares them.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Who would consume such a distasteful looking food item? I’m also disappointed in your lack of essential ingredients. Arsenic would expand your flavor profiles exponentially.”

&*&*&*&

After the strange reaction from Tyler they settled into relative normalcy, save for the lack of pancakes she believed were perfectly edible despite Tyler’s disagreement. He suggested they go out for something quick or he could try to make something at his house for them and she agreed mostly to prevent another emotional outburst. His meal was adequate the last time he prepared something for her so she had little to risk in that way.

When they settled into his car he put it into drive and they moved down the road toward Jericho. Their first stop was a flower shop, a small building which housed flowers of varying colors and scents and he emerged with a bouquet. She noted tulips, foxglove, forget-me-nots, and daffodils among the arrangement.

“Is it okay if we go to the cemetery first?” Tyler asked and Wednesday noted his face was still swollen from his earlier outburst, just around the eyes which were still bloodshot.

She nodded, “I would never say no to a walk through a graveyard, Tyler. You should know that by now.”

His smile made her heart flutter and brought warmth to her cheeks that she refused to entertain, “Yeah, I figured but I thought it was good to ask anyway.”

She reached across the center console to place her palm on top of his hand, which she noticed had twitched often during the ride and he jolted in surprise. His face was a mask of confusion that melted into a soft smile.

They said nothing as they made their way over to the church and into the graveyard then over to the place where they had shared their first real kiss.

Wednesday allowed him to approach the grave while she stood a few feet back. Funerals were always interesting, but this quiet mourning was strange to her. Her family graveyard was filled to the brim with her Addams ancestors and she visited them often while she wondered how it must feel to be dead. One assumes it would lack feeling at all. She had tried to make her way past the veil a handful of times until her mother urged her to cease her experimentation and recognized the wisdom in such a request. If she were dead she would never finish her novel and that was inconceivable.

She did not hear his entire speech to the empty space where his mother now existed. Her corpse somewhere below the ground he stood atop while he laid the flowers at the base of the tombstone and stroked the granite with a thumb before he stood. His eyes were wet, shiny and he swallowed several times before he held out a hand to her, “You ready?”

“My offer to summon your mother’s spirit to commune with her still stands. It is inefficient to direct your words to an empty space and may provide closure and comfort if employed properly.”

Tyler blinked at her, “I don’t…I mean…What if you call and she doesn’t answer or whatever? What if she’s happy wherever she is and doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Preposterous. If she is anything like my mother she would desire to speak to you, to have seen your growth, to know you.”

“Maybe.”

Wednesday nodded but did not pry further but did take his hand when he held it out to her. Hand holding was acceptable for now despite the public place and they made their way back to his car and to the meager grocery store in town. She watched him as he moved through the aisle with their cart and the entire scenario struck her as wildly domestic. It should have been appalling, but it wasn’t. It felt…correct and that should have made her abscond from their outing, retreat back to where she felt safe and in control, but refused to balk at the sensation. Fear would not rule her.

When they made it back to his home the clock read 5:30 PM and she observed him through her note taking while he prepared their meal. It was nothing as elaborate as what he had served her weeks ago but it was warm and smelled of spices that reminded her oddly of home. Nothing like roadkill pot roast but serviceable when he placed an ethnic dish in front of her. One that her family would have made alterations to, but served well enough now.

When he served her the meal, she blinked at the tamales he had prepared with careful hands and noted the scent of chili, of paprika, of ground shredded chicken, and cheese wrapped in the dried banana leaves as was traditional. She’d watched him place the items in the cart but did not expect such a rich meal.

“I wasn’t sure if you could have peppers so I didn’t add more but I think you can probably eat food with color sometimes, right? Enid told me about your pills you take so you can eat the school food, but I–,” She silenced him.

“You did well.”

They ate in relative silence until the meal lay mostly finished between them.

“When do you have to be back?”

“Soon enough, however, I also have another suggestion which might be more aligned with my strengths. Enid and I discussed the importance of distraction whenever one is dealing with difficult life events and therefore I want to bring to your attention the fact that we never investigated the bunker beneath your property as we intended weeks ago.”

She watched the cogs within Tyler’s head turn slowly as his brow furrowed, then relaxed as the dawning of understanding flickered over his features, “I completely forgot about that.”

“Yes. I assumed as much when you neglected to bring it to my attention again after our discovery.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I did not want to presume, and I believed you wished to confront your father about its existence before we investigated.”

“Yeah. I never did that. How did I forget about a whole room under our house?”

“A bunker. It may have more than one room.”

“Sure but it has at least one,” He returned and she felt that flush of affectionate irritation at him again before they left the house toward Elvis’s doghouse. She was unsure where the canine was at this time but it was not her concern for the moment. Tyler shoved the doghouse back on the rails and went down first before Wednesday followed. The stairs terminated into a small hallway that led back toward the house and Wednesday found a light switch in the dim light that she flicked on. Surprisingly the space illuminated with a low level hum that grated instantly on her nerves but she did her best to ignore it. Once they had an established light source she told Tyler to move the house back. They did not need any interruptions for what she had planned. Aside from the exploration she wished to do this for an entirely different reason. Her palms tingled as she rotated her plot in her head before she entered a space that felt strangely plain for an underground bunker. It was arranged like a home. A living area, a kitchen and dining area, and a bedroom. Two bedrooms with one smaller than the other. She and Tyler moved through the area without words while they examined everything in turn. Food stocked on shelves that had sell by dates a decade into the future. A lack of dust that suggested semi-regular maintenance, working electricity, and water which she found when she turned on the faucet. The water itself was a strange brown color at first but then cleared with a few moments of propulsion into the drain. “What the hell is this place?” Tyler finally asked but Wednesday had no answer as she entered one bedroom. Heard a cabinet door open then shut suddenly and with a deep breath, resolved to put her plot into motion as she walked back into the living space to find Tyler.

&*&*&*

“I had another thought about what I could do to be a ‘supportive girlfriend’ as Enid stated when we were discussing concepts for our afternoon and evening.”

Tyler let his hand linger on the table while he looked back at her while he continued to take in the space that sat right under his house. Next to the root cellar where he’d been dozens of times in his life with no idea this sat a few feet away. It was like a whole house here. And by the looks of things most of it was not that old. He wasn’t sure if that meant anything but it gave him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Especially the chain he found inside one of the cabinets. Had his dad known about him? About his mom? The thought left him a little nauseous while he watched her.

She moved toward him…no…swayed toward him. Sauntered. There was a purpose in every single movement and her eyes were…warm…kind of like when they made out. His body responded to the thought almost immediately. A flush of warm energy pulsed under his skin and he could feel his cock give an interested twitch. She stopped just short of touching him. They were almost flush, with her being nearly a whole head shorter than him, but he felt small the moment her eyes nailed him still. He swallowed and her eyes drifted down to his addams apple where it bobbed with the movement.

“Oh?”

She nodded, her lip lifted slightly and he watched her hand drift into his periphery before her fingertips ghosted along his cheekbone, then upward over his forehead, down the other side, up over the bridge of his nose, then down the length of it until it nudged his lips before she let it trail down his chin, his throat and finally ended where his clothes did. His breathing slowed, his eyes drifted, his body thrummed again with that same contentment it did whenever she locked her full attention on him.

“When we were discussing how best to make this day one of positivity rather than negative I brought up the use of our mutual attraction to a favorable end. However when I suggested my own desires Enid seemed against my initial idea and though I do not see the concern in itself I understand my own values do not often match those of my peers.”

Tyler nodded, dumb, but listening. He hadn’t touched her in days and didn’t push because he wasn’t sure how he felt about it anymore. Not that he would tell her no because he wanted her too but a lot had happened and it put him off balance. His episodes of missing time were getting worse, his appetite was in the toilet, his concentration suffered at school, and he’d messed up no less than six orders the last time he worked.

“I suggested coitus as an activity we could engage in if you were amenable. As you know my literary hero and nemesis and a well known fact about her, if one spends more than a few moments searching for it, is that she lost her virginity on her mother’s grave. Since both of my parents are unfortunately still among the living I can not compete with her unless I myself commit patricide. As of now Pugsley and both remain minors and therefore it would not be advantageous to do so at the moment but I do not wish to wait years. Instead I suggested to Enid that we could do so on your mother’s grave but she told me that was disrespectful and ‘a lot messed up’ and so I dismissed it. However, this area seems an acceptable substitute. It is hidden, insulated, well lit, and has a bed which does make things easier than the soil might for such activities.”

Tyler blinked once, then twice, while he let her words penetrate the haze being so close to Wednesday when she was looking at him like that created. Her scent, the strawberries, the burnt sugar as it mellowed and the scent of dark chocolate he knew so very well called to him. She was horny…wait…did she just? “You want to have sex? Here? Now? Today?” Each word was pitched higher than the last while his brain frantically tried to catch up and actually make sense of what she’d said. That was what she’d said right? According to his cock that now filled out his jeans that was exactly what she’d said and it was ready to make that happen as soon as possible.

She gave him a soft glare. Or as he’d like to call it her ‘of course that’s what she’d said, she wasn’t going to repeat herself’ look.

“Okay. Sure. Yeah. Wait. You wanted to have sex on my mom’s grave?!” It was hissed, his shock peppered the last sentence like gunfire, and she blinked slowly at him. She looked bored.

“I do not see what the issue would be other than the public setting.”

Nope. He wasn’t going to tell her why having sex over a dead body was a little weird. She offered to have sex with him, and the voice at the back of his head filled with guilt and screaming at him almost every moment was stuffed into a closet. No. He wasn’t going to let it ruin this. Selfish. He was going to be selfish. Not with her. No. No, he was going to try to make her feel good. He’d heard enough locker room talk and gossip to know that guys sometimes sucked when they had sex for the first time. He hadn’t jerked off in days. Oh god. He was going to blow his load way too early. “So how did you want to–?”

She reached up with reflexes that surprised him and twined her fingers through his hair to pull him down for a kiss. Not rough, but not gentle either. Just the right amount of pressure to prickle down his neck, his spine, to coil somewhere in his belly. Lower.

His lips moved against hers with practiced ease. He knew exactly how to make her respond to him. The right amount of pressure between them, the way his teeth slid on the supple swollen flesh, how exactly she liked her head tilted. How long he could keep contact before he had to pull back and move. Not that he thought about those things while he did them but the instinct rattled through him like an earthquake while he moved his own hand to her cheek, her neck, let his thumb graze over her cool skin, flushed light pink with her arousal. Her eyes glittered with purpose and promise and he slid his other hand over her side, down her hip and pulled her body flush to his. Felt his cock rub against her belly and she undulated her body to do it again. His groan fluttered into her mouth and she gave a sound in reply.

The back of his neck prickled, a chill ran through him, one of anxious unknown, nervous about a step he hadn’t even thought they’d get to any time soon. “Are you sure?” He asked when they parted and kept her from savaging his lips again.

Her mouth opened, lips parted and he watched the wet flick of her tongue like a man starved but waited, “I would not have suggested it if I wasn’t.”

She was too articulate. He needed to fix that.

He moved them back, his eyes moved across the room so that they didn’t run into anything as he urged her back with his hands and his lips. Their footsteps were loud in the new space as their soft noises echoed back. He shoved her uniform jacket over her shoulders with his hands and Wednesday let it drop to the floor. They stepped over it as he pulled off his long sleeved flannel, Wednesday dextrous fingers helped to undo the final buttons near his belt before she cupped him firmly through his pants and he let out a sharp sound at the contact. Her wicked little grin only made him want to ruin her.

He herded her back while he peeled off his shoes and she shucked off her vest to leave her white shirt underneath. Her breasts were fuller, pressed against the fabric like they were begging for him to touch them. Nipples pointed but not visible through the black of her bra underneath.

He thumbed one, tweaked it while his mouth travelled down her neck, nipped the skin there the way he knew she liked. Her scent thickened, her gasp a litany of praise in his ear, and he had to pull back or else he was going to lose his cool right now. But thankfully he’d managed to get them to the bed and he watched Wednesday sit down on top of it before she methodically unlaced her boots while he hopped on one foot to get one sock off, then the other and when he reached for his belt he noticed Wednesday’s eyes on him while she slid the other boot to land with a thud on the floor. He wanted to fall into them but slowed down while her gaze lingered on where his hands were currently pulling the leather free of the prong and let it pull tighter before he loosened it and pulled it through the buckle as it clinked with barely a sound before it fell apart. He thumbed at the button on his jeans once, nervous, and steadied himself before he popped it free then slipped his zipper down. Each tooth seemed like a detonation of some kind and when it was down he swallowed, his skin prickled, his belly twisted but he slid his pants down to pool on the floor and stepped out of them. He continued his impromptu strip tease while his fingers gripped the hem of his shirt and rubbed the fabric before he started pulling it over his belly. The cling of the fabric sent little jolts down to where the fire in his belly kindled brightly but he kept moving it up and up until he pulled it over his head.

Her gaze was possessive. It lingered for a minute on the bandage he still had on his chest but he stood there in just his boxers while she looked at him. While her eyes landed on the top of his head and made their way leisurely down his face, then his neck, his chest, down to his belly, over his boxers where his cock stood and pointed at her like it knew what he had in store for it. It was almost like she was touching him. He could feel the pressure like weight on his skin. Her eyes finally landed on his bare feet while he shifted back and forth before she tilted her head and he watched her braids move before she lifted her thin fingers to her own shirt buttons. He’d never seen her like this. Not naked. Or not fully naked. They were usually mostly clothed when they did stuff together or she had her shirt on or whatever but he was almost vibrating when she popped the first one, then the second only made it worse, his hand shook and he clenched it into a fist while she moved down the line until it gaped free and he could see the skin of her throat, above her breasts, down the middle where her bra sat on her chest, and down to her flat belly. She rolled her shoulders and let the fabric slide down past the bony topline, down her upper arms until she pulled one sleeve free, then the other.

Her tremor was almost too small to notice, but he noticed, and waited while she folded the blouse deliberately. He could hear her heartbeat. Faster than it had ever beat before and somehow it calmed him. If they were both nervous then that was okay. Remembered conversations between friends, the books he read, the advice on the internet about doing this the right way all seemed like white noise now. He let his gaze linger on her body. She was lean, pale, and perfect, “Wow.”

Wednesday looked away from him then and he noticed her blush deepen before she put her hands on her skirt to pull it down when he reached his hand out to stop her. Found himself on his knees before her without realizing it. The denim had mostly cushioned his impact but he didn’t care. Her feet were bare. Her little toes were dotted with black polish and he wanted to kiss them. But that was probably weird so he didn’t.

Instead he waited to see if she would let him do what he wanted and after a lingering bit of eye contact he watched her body relax, felt her hand come away from his, and it settled on the bed. He swallowed again, his cock pulsed, his head spun, but he didn’t let any of that stop him when he buried his fingers beneath the hem of her skirt and tugged. Her hips rose to let him pull the heavy fabric down her legs then off. It left her clad in only her leggings and bra and she stared at him with all the confidence he knew she would. Wednesday would never balk at this. Never show that she was anything but confident even if he knew she wasn’t. It was so fucking adorable he thought his heart might explode. Nothing else mattered now. He could shove it all to the side. Could just stay here with her and linger a little. Maybe if he showed her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, how much he needed her that she wouldn’t leave when the truth came out. And it would. But that was gone now. Here. He was here.

He pulled her leggings free then, down her legs, slowly, carefully as he revealed the skin he knew well enough to slide his nails down the flesh as he exposed it and watched her shiver as goosebumps peppered her skin. As her rich, mouthwatering scent hit him full force. His mouth filled with saliva and he had to swallow while his head spun dizzyingly. There she was. Clad in underwear covered in lace and he grinned at her, “For me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she fired back but it was breathy, pitched high. It wavered and he moved forward slowly. The way a predator would. With intention to devour her whole.

He caught her lips in another kiss as he pressed her back onto the firm mattress below. As his body covered hers while he rested his forearms on the bed, then pushed his hand into the bed to lift his body above hers. To stare at her, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips puffy, and allowed himself just a moment to admire her before he descended her body with meticulous care. His lips pressed to her chin, then her cheek, then over her pulse point while it fluttered like a caged bird, down to her shoulder, then over her collarbone, her upper arm, each kiss softer than a butterfly but as devastating as a hurricane, and he moved to the other side. Every inch of skin he could he pressed his lips to. Tasted like he’d never have her again. To the plush flesh of her breast exposed by her bra, over her nipple where he pulled the lace into his mouth and let the startled noise hit him with a growl. He went to the other breast, had to still the way his shoulders trembled with eager energy and forced himself to keep going slowly. Let her restless movements under him fuel his already insatiable hunger and nuzzled her belly before he kissed it as well. Followed the line already paved by the muscle below and dipped his tongue into her belly button to let more of her flavor drift along it.

He was almost overcome by the way he moved down, the way he helped her spread her thighs, by the wetness he could see already that glistened on her inner thighs, saturated the dark fabric and peppered the atmosphere with her desire.

She didn’t say a word, just watched him, her muscles lax, trusting and he knelt back down, hooked his fingers in the edge of her underwear at her hip and tugged them down until they slid off of her ankle then to the floor. Ruined.

He wanted to hold off. Wanted to move down to her ankles, wanted to kiss every single inch of the skin she trusted him with but instead he kissed her inner thigh while she jolted. Her thigh clapped the side of his head with the stimulation and he grinned with his teeth before he sank them into her thigh, careful, just enough pressure for it to blend with the way he dragged his finger through the mess between her dewy lips. Lips shaved bare while the moist hair above held the bouquet of her most intimate scent. Her startled gasp was music to him and he pushed her thigh down to the bed with his free hand before he settled and shoved his shoulder to try and pin the other to at least keep her from kicking at him.

His cock was so hard he was sure he was going to die from lack of oxygen to his brain but it would be a hell of a way to go. It was like riding a bike. The way his tongue laved over her slit fully flat and let her flavor pop better than any candy, any cake, any sort of real food he’d ever had. She bucked at that, threaded her fingers in his hair and he let her direct his mouth while he drove her toward the edge of madness. Short, light laps, the way he swirled his tongue over her clit, the little nub was each for his tongue while he tapped it and she writhed beneath him. Her legs scrambled for purchase they wouldn’t find while each sound he wrung from her was like a victory bell. The desperate gasping moans of her delight carried her forward. Louder. Higher pitched. He focused his attention to her clit, circled it, tapped it, then finally gave it a suckle while he reached up the line of her body and bent her just the slightest bit inward while he pinched her nipple cruelly and she tumbled over the edge of her climax with a sharp cry. The way her body arched was a work of art and he felt invincible while he continued to work her through it.

A finger breached her, pressed inward while her walls pulsed around it and he couldn’t wait. Wanted to see how it felt around his cock that needed something or else he was going to fucking die but he couldn’t. Had to make it good for her. Had to show her how much he wanted to keep her. He pushed forward and added another finger. The stretch made her squeal and she gasped his name when he moved them in and out of her at a leisurely pace, his gaze on her face. Flushed. Mouth open. Eyes wild. Chest heaving, pink with her pleasure and he watched her gush over his fingers, watched the puddle of her pleasure beneath his mouth and hand grow larger with each press of his fingers. The wet sound made him shiver and he added a third. Knew she took this many when she was in the middle of her Heat but with a slight bit of resistance the third wiggled inside of her while she keened again. Broke over his digits while they rocked in and out of her. Made sure she was relaxed, open, plenty wet before he pulled back and left her disoriented. Dizzy. Unsteady.

He shoved off his boxers and crawled on top of the bed. Her eyes, glazed, hazy lingered on the red, angry cock he revealed before she tried to reach for it and he caught her hand, “No. I feel like a stray breeze is going to make me come.” His voice was gravel, his words firm, and she whined. His grin at her only made her glare halfheartedly at him.

“I want you to fuck me.” The words were garbled but clear enough and he felt a thrum of his Master’s command run through him.

“No. I’m not going to fuck you.” The thrum quieted. “We’re going to do something better.”

He settled against the headboard, against the pillows and she rolled onto her belly before she crawled up toward him on his back, half sitting up. He remembered a fraction of the advice Ajax of all people gave him. To let her take control of their first time so she could take him at her pace and he let his palms ghost over her sweaty flesh while she moved uncoordinated over him. “Come on. Up here, minaccia. You can do it. God you are so beautiful. You’re going to be on top. Can you manage it or did I wreck you already?”

Wednesday glared at him even as she dug her fingers into his shoulder, as his hands helped her up for her thighs to bracket his hips. For her to rise above him, for him to reach around her back and after a few unsuccessful attempts at freeing her breasts for him she tutted and reached around to pop the latch in half a second before she tossed the black fabric somewhere else and his brain flatlined. Her breasts… He’d seen them before. But not like this. Not naked. Not right here in front of his face while she hovered with her warmth and wetness over him like a guillotine ready to tear his soul from his body. Nipples small, pebbled and pinkish purple which adorned her pale skin on top of the lovely handful she kept hidden under her clothes. Flesh that needed to be touched for as long as she would let him.

He steadied her while her eyes met his with conviction, with emotion, with something deeper than he’d ever seen before. A vulnerability she probably had never shown anyone else before like a treasure hidden from mortal eyes and he swallowed again. Inhaled through his nose, let his fingers rest on her hips. Not moving. Not pressuring her. Just anchoring him to something. Anything before he floated away because he might actually die.

She adjusted her body over him and slid down. He felt the soft press of the head of him meet her molten warmth and he forced himself to stay still. Clenched his jaw almost enough that he could feel the bone creak but refused to move. Her little surprised noise nearly undid him too and she rocked the head of him against her sopping wet cunt, felt it ghost over her clit over and over again. The sharp, quick sounds that came from her only made everything worse while her brow furrowed in concentration while her hands trembled and she shifted again. Let the head of him nudge into her. Not more than an inch but he threw his head back and let out a desperate exhale through his teeth. “Eyes.” She commanded, pleaded, and he forced himself to look at her again. Let it ground him while she rocked again and let more of him breach her for the first time. Her exhale trembled between them and her nails dug into the meat of his shoulder while he felt her thighs vibrate with the effort of keeping the pace slow. She was unsure. He knew that she enjoyed pain too but didn’t know if that was what she wanted now.

He lifted his hand to her breast and thumbed across her nipple and felt her walls ripple along the bit of her he could feel and let his groan echo between them before he tweaked it again and again and he could feel her drooling around him to ease him forward. Felt her walls spasm and give so that she sunk even further down with another sharp punched out noise. Her head tipped forward while she tried to cling to some semblance of clarity but her body wanted this. Welcomed it.

A flash of another memory made him take his other hand off of her hip, made him curl his fingers, brought his first two down to where she hovered with maybe a quarter of him inside her. He couldn’t exactly tell but he bracketed her clit with those curled knuckles. Didn’t touch it directly, no, but he did rub the flesh around it so very softly that she let out another squeak and he pulled his knuckles closer to graze the edges of that little throbbing button that made her lose her mind and the broken noise made his entire body shiver. Pulled her nipple harshly while she sank down again. He felt the way her walls rippled around him, loose, tight, loose, tight. Fluttering around the intrusion and he kept that same gentle up and down pressure until she settled flush onto him with a low groan. It trembled along both of their bodies when he joined her. His hand flew from her breast down to her hip to hold her still.

“Oh fuck. Oh Jesus Christ. Holy shit. Don’t. Don’t move.” He stuttered out. His brain flatlining while her cunt squeezed the fuck out of him. His fingers at her clit spasmed and pinched the tiny nub filled with nerve endings sharply.

Wednesday gave a weak bleat as he shifted under her. She was so full, so stretched, so wonderfully consumed by this new sensation and the fingers at her clit hadn’t stopped and the combination of the burn of his stretch and that aching stimulation she clenched hard around him with another low moan while pleasure ricocheted through her body with all the devastation of a wrecking ball. Left her stripped bare. Too much.

Tyler threw his head back, lips open, desperate drags of air past lips that were dry now with how fast he breathed and he rolled his hips as the sensation dragged him under. He tried to fight it but it was too much too good and his heels shifted along the sheets, his legs unable to stay still while he rocked her on top of him, while he ground her clit into his pelvic bone, into the textured hair at the base of his cock and she sobbed in another breath.

Tyler’s panic reached a head when he felt his cock erupt in a flush of full body shivers he couldn’t hope to control. His firm grip on her hip was enough to ache but it only added to her pleasure while he begged her to not move. Pathetic and wrung out already and they had barely started.

If Wednesday had any mental faculties left she would have chastised him, glared, and would have fired back that she wasn’t moving. He was. But this had left her deaf and dumb and she could feel the precipice as something inevitable rolled toward her. Instead she only let out noises that would embarrass her later if she remembered and watched Tyler’s wrecked expression with a satisfaction she was capable of. The wetness between them tripled while his seed leaked from her cunt and she shivered at the sensation. His little whines and shuttered inhales and exhales enough to pull him deeper into his madness as she shifted upward, rolled her hips up, then pressed back down to let him consume her again. She let the sensation blaze up and down her spine, arched her back while her fingers made permanent indentions in his skin. His head was thrown back. From her perch while her vision fuzzed and went hazy at the edges that he looked devastated. Eyes wide, lips gaping, chest heaving with his desperation while he let out several pathetic choked noises from overstimulation. Tears filled his eyes and leaked down his face while she rode him mercilessly. Her body not her own. Driven to chaos and ecstasy by the feeling of his cock inside of her the way it felt like home and the way she wanted this all the time. This pleasure. It ricocheted through her entire frame again and again while she pushed him past his limits. Until her back hit the bed, until his crazed eyes loomed above her. Tears on his cheeks, pupils blown, green eyes glowing atop her while he parted her thighs and pushed inside of her. Her back came off the edge of the bed with a wild cry and he pummeled her cunt with his cock like a man who was possessed. Her nails dug into his shoulders while he fucked her with reckless abandon. HIs grunts and moans loud in her ears. The melody of her wails matched it note for note while her body bowed tight as a bowstring and snapped while she screamed and seized until the world fell away and she found herself jettisoned into oblivion and did not hear the words he spoke while he pushed her over the edge of sanity, “Love you. Love you. Love you.”

He devoured her mouth, her cries, the way she shook and sobbed openly. His roar heralded the third orgasm of the night and he shoved his way as deep as he could go while she collapsed like her strings had been cut.

Tyler tried to get off of her, tried to at least let her breathe but his limbs felt like jelly and all he could manage to do was lean slightly off to the side to not crush her before he wrapped his arms around her and let darkness swallow him for a little while. His mind finally quiet enough to truly rest for the first time in a week while Wednesday floated between sleep and waking and the twilight of the the through way he'd torn her apart only to mend her again. Strangely flayed but claimed all the same.