Chapter Text
Being an Addams meant being a firsthand witness of Gomez and Morticia Addams’ love. Even after 25 dreadful years, it seemed the passion between them had yet to die out. Much to the displeasure of the Addams heir. Usually, her near photogenic memory was something Wednesday prided herself on, but being able to recall every one of her parents' brazen exchange of affection she and Pugsley were often subject to was nothing short of torture of the most unpleasant kind.
Watching her father wait for her mother on hands and knees, and so infatuated with just one look, he forgot the world around him, was distasteful. Wednesday wanted to sneer at such a weakness. The mere idea made her shutter. She never wanted to experience it for herself. How could Gomez be so devoted to his wife that he went practically mad without her? It was horrifying!
Before Nero’s unjust end, the idea that Wednesday might fall to the Addams curse, however never to her father’s extent, left only a mild sour taste in her mouth with a side of arsenic. But after the cruel actions at the hands of four dimwitted boys, who didn’t hesitate to eradicate her beloved friend, it was promptly lit on fire and thrown out the window to be forgotten.
Wednesday learned an important lesson that day. Caring for someone so openly was simply a weakness to be exploited. Falling victim to the Curse was a notion that she wasn’t even going to entertain. Wednesday would never allow herself even the slightest chance of falling into such a depraved trap. That night at Nero’s graveside, she grieved her loss until the sky became a devastatingly bitter gray. The clouds released furious drops of rain that hid the sight of all the pitiful tears falling from her young face. As a bolt of lightning struck behind the manor, briefly highlighting Nero’s name, Wednesday decided she never wanted to feel such a feeble emotion again.
Swiftly, she forbade herself from forming any interpersonal relationships outside of her family. She even went as far as refraining from giving and receiving any kinds of physical affection. Though her father and Pugsley never quite let her cut it off completely. No matter how sparse and in between it was, they always managed to encroach in her personal space and suffocate her. Wednesday never reciprocated, always keeping her hands tensely down by her sides while she waited for them to relinquish their hold, but she never pushed them away. Curse them both for being so tactile.
Her mother, on the other hand, was the opposite. Once Wednesday strongly proclaimed to her parents that they were to forgo their physical affection towards her, and Morticia was now barred from doing her hair, much to her annoyance, Morticia simply smiled, a thing so full of love and understanding Wednesday internally seethed. “Of course, mon Petit Corbeau.” Although her voice remained poised and soft, it did nothing to disguise the pained look in her eyes. Wednesday remained silent, trying to ignore the subtle movement in her peripheral of her father’s hand, grasping Morticia’s tightly.
From that day forward, Morticia made an effort not to cross Wednesday’s firm boundaries. Every now and again Wednesday would watch her mother catch herself just before she came into contact with her until the phantom touching became their thing.
For 10 years, things stayed that way. Wednesday pulled further into herself, locking her emotions deep inside pandora’s box where they would never see even a hint of the dreary sunlight. It wasn’t all that hard, moving through eight schools in five years. The Normies all took a single look at her and, without hesitation, ostracized her and Pugsley from the moment they stepped foot in the building. That was more than horridly pleasant for her. She felt no more inclined to join in on their mindless activities, refusing to be drawn into the soul sucking void of technology. And quite frankly, she in no way felt the need to seek validation from her peers.
Wednesday had been more than equipped to finish receiving the pitiful excuse of education required by the state in one of the very schools said state failed to fund properly. That was until after her eighth and final expulsion in the New Jersey school district and her parents had no choice and informed her of their half-brained scheme to send her to Nevermore. She knew for certain, attending her parents' alma mater was nothing if not another one of their poorly thought plans to try and get her to make friends. Her mother was disgustingly elated as the hearse pulled up in front of the wrought-iron gates. Wednesday felt nauseated at the sight. Any hope of escaping her mother’s shadow had shriveled up like a lake nymph out of water during the winter.
To add water to the well past blazing oil fire around her new school, metaphorically at least for now, the dorm she was to reside in just so happened to be her mother’s old one.
Absolutely detestable. Wednesday scoffed, not so naïve as to believe such a thing was a lucky coincidence. The whole thing reeked of Morticia’s ceaseless meddling in trying to control her life, in hopes Wednesday would take after her. At least that’s what Wednesday thought on her first day at Nevermore.
___
Even as she stumbled out of the gates of the school she once cursed, one hand covering her wound in a futile attempt to slow the bleeding, Wednesday was loath to admit some part of it worked, as for the first time since she was six crying over Nero’s grave, she felt the familiar prick of anxiety building inside, her eyes scanning the clearing for the familiar blue and pink tipped blonde, never seeming to leave her thoughts from the moment of their first meeting.
___
It couldn’t have been any more unconventional. Wednesday’s first look into the room sent her mentally recoiling in disgust. One side was dreary and dark, just the way she liked her things. But the other.
Oh, it was so much worse.
It couldn’t have looked any more different from what Wednesday could have ever been able to picture. Mountains of color were everywhere, swallowed by even more color. It was as though a character from a child’s novel had expelled its inner contents all across one side of the room. Her eyes roamed around the space, practically breaking out in hives from where she stood.
Taking a moment, against her will, to adjust to such a sudden over exposure on her retinas, Wednesday brought her eyes over to the nauseating individual who was responsible for creating such a revulsion. The blonde girl removed herself from her chair, noticing she was no longer alone, skipping over to join the small crowd.
Against her better judgment, Wednesday let her eyes shamelessly roam over the girl who was to be her roommate. The girl was wearing the purple variation of Nevermore's uniform. That didn’t stop her from adding little drops of color to her outfit. Even her hair had color, the ends were dyed with blues and pinks that cut off just around her shoulders. How could one enjoy such an unflattering amount of saturation around her?
Wednesday suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, she wasn’t going to let this iridescent girl see such an emotion on her face. So stuck on the girl’s poor sense of fashion, Wednesday was unprepared when their eyes met.
Molten dark eyes met electric blue, not that of an ocean, as every juvenile writer would say. No, they were the most deplorable shade. The color the sky would turn over the Manor, just before a colossal storm touched down on the Jersey Shore. It was always Wednesday’s favorite weather.
Wednesday’s face fell a barely perceivable amount, her well-crafted poker face slipping, her eyes widening ever so slightly. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire in a way she never thought possible. Her fingers itched down at her side, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush her thumb down the contours of the blonde’s face, until Wednesday was sure she thoroughly burned every last detail in her mind. It felt as though a magnet was placed over her chest, an invisible pull lingering between them and urging Wednesday forward to the girl who seemed to infect such unfamiliar feelings inside her.
What would it feel like if she held the girl's face in her hands? Would it be enough to douse the flames she felt wanting to consume her from the inside out? Or maybe if she trailed her hands down until their hands became intertwined? To feel the weight of the other’s hand in her own and never let go.
All the times Gomez described what it felt like when the curse afflicted him suddenly were at the forefront of Wednesday’s mind. He never said it would feel as though the ground that she stood steady on for the entirety of her life would shift at an unexpected moment and cause her to stumble. Now that feeling was bestowed onto her and she had no choice but to catch herself before she fell embarrassingly onto her face where anyone could take notice.
Wednesday let her eyes drift away from such an addicting view, returning her mask of indifference as though the sudden invasion of such a revelation wasn’t running amuck in her brain. It wasn’t the time, nor the place, to fall apart, let alone in front of her parents. Wednesday resolved to lock any and all thoughts regarding her situation until she could deconstruct the matter at a more appropriate time, preferably not involving an audience greater than one.
Now recomposed, Wednesday caught the way the other girl faltered in her pursuit forward, arms outstretched as if to attempt a hug. The bright smile she sported faltered for a split second, a look of confusion crossing her alluring features, before it returned even brighter than before, if such a thing was even possible, as though she had never hesitated at all.
The girl dropped her arms reluctantly down to her sides, instead offering a shy wave in Wednesday’s direction. How peculiar. Wednesday knew the girl was preparing to attempt some type of affection, so why had she suddenly pulled back as though she understood Wednesday’s lack of desire for physical contact? She shelved the thought along with the other concerning ones from earlier.
Weems for her part looked momentarily stunned, practically gaping at the two girls, watching the awkward tension build between the new roommates. Wednesday ignored the clueless principle, focusing her attention back onto the mysterious girl, not quite sure what she was searching for. Weems gathered her bearings, clearing her throat as if she finally remembered why they all were standing in the room. She placed a hand on the blonde’s back and, with a smile rivaling the blondes yet not nearly as magnetic , nudged her blonde forward. “Wednesday, this is your roommate, Enid Sinclair.”
“Howdy roomie!” was the first thing the girl- Enid said, her voice full of saccharine sweetness. Anyone else and Wednesday would have taken an immediate dislike to someone so capable of such a bright disposition, but instead of the feeling of disgust, Wednesday’s heart had a strange arrhythmia, beating erratically at the sound of Enid’s voice.
___
Wednesday couldn’t recall her own greeting, her memory seeming to fail her now of all times, but she knows that for whatever she said, it took double the effort to withhold a traitorous tremble from spilling from her lips and exposing her right then and there.
_____
Unbeknownst to the two girls, Morticia had been watching the entire exchange intently. Her eyes lit with a gleeful glint. Her daughter was absolutely smitten with the vibrant girl and it was apparent she wasn’t the only one. Morticia would later go on to tell Gomez, who told Pugsley, who told Fester who would eventually let it slip to Wednesday on his visit to her at Nevermore. Immediately upon hearing the news, it wasn’t long until they received a call from a very irate and very much in denial raven.
_____
It hadn’t taken Wednesday much to decide that she would try to snuff out the existence of such a weakness. She kept her distance from her roommate, who she later discovered was a werewolf, and chose to write off the sensations she felt during their introduction as nothing more than a fluke. She never allowed herself the chance to examine the evidence, unwilling to accept the glaringly obvious answer to what was wrong with her.
It was an easy feat at first. Their schedules were more different than alike, since Wednesday arrived so late in the semester and most of the classes Enid had were completely full. Though she was still displeased at having to share two periods together, fencing and botany.
Since their fencing class was split up by rank, Wednesday was almost always paired with Bianca, or someone else of a similar level. It was the one class she actually came to enjoy, more than satisfied at being given a challenge for once in all her years of mediocre schooling. The mandatory classes she took prior hardly felt worth her time.
Enid, she noted while not in the same rank as herself and the siren, was nothing, if not proficient in her skill. More than once Wednesday had to pull her gaze from staring as the blonde faced off, and often won, against a handful of their classmates she hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. Even when it seemed Enid was outmatched, she was quick to show that was far from the truth. Wednesday suddenly felt grateful for the black helmet obscuring her face, unable to clear the unbridled admiration from her features the longer she watched.
Botany, well, it was much harder to keep a distance when Wednesday was restricted to the conservatory for class, meaning her seat choices were already slim. Any chance of avoiding the blonde quickly vanished from her mind the moment Wednesday walked into class and realized there was only one available seat. Located in front of the wolf. Which also happened to be besides the moping painter, so desperate for her approval. He became more of an afterthought though, as throughout the rest of class Wednesday tried not to tense up every time she felt the weighted stare on her neck from Enid behind her.
Aside from that most unfortunate inconvenience, her plan was working. Wednesday was constantly out of their dorm, only returning for her writing time and to play her cello. On top of that, she somehow managed to involve herself in the local murder investigation, making for a great excuse for her absence. But then the Poe Cup happened. Enid had been distraught, pacing up and down the length of their dorm, anxiously wringing her hands together.
Wednesday could not have just sat around and done nothing. Not when her heart clenched uncomfortably at the sight of such anguish present. Wednesday crossed her arms, roughly digging her fingers into her forearm to assuage the aching in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to take the blonde into her arms and personally ensure Enid, no one would hurt her in such a way again.
Wednesday did none of that, instead, offering to take the carless vampire’s place and pointedly ignored when Enid asked just why she was doing so.
___
Wednesday should have known the second she violated her own rule was the moment everything would change for them. It was the moment the Addams Curse was solidified. Why had she thrown herself into such a spiral of denial, leaving her blind to how much the blonde meant to her? Wednesday chuckled darkly. She was only willing to accept the truth while she laid there bleeding out on the crypt floor. No one knew she was here. Which meant no one was coming for her. Wednesday ruminated over her memories of Enid, wishing that maybe things could have been different. If only she never insisted on being so stubborn.
___
Winning only brought the opposing pair together. They were practically inseparable. Enid was always respectful of Wednesday’s boundaries. Not that it stopped either of them from drawing closer to one another any time the opportunity presented itself.
Somehow, Enid managed to scale the lofty towers that were Wednesday’s walls with ease. No matter how hard the raven tried, it was useless for her to pull away like she had once previously tried. She was irrevocably attached to the wolf’s presence and couldn’t seem to muster the strength to distance herself.
Wednesday loathed the similarities of herself and her parents. Was this what it felt like when they had to separate for more than a few hours? The feeling was absolutely revolting, it was practically futile trying to focus on anything at hand, all her attention monopolized on the radiant blonde. Wednesday tried to distract herself, overindulging in the few hobbies she maintained, but everything seemed to remind her of Enid. No matter how she tried, Wednesday couldn’t keep herself from inevitably returning to Enid’s side.
Until the night she dragged Enid to the Gates’ mansion with her. That night invoked true unbridled fear in a way she hadn’t felt since before burning the boogie man from under her bed. Fear was a dangerous emotion. It pried on the weak spots in a person’s armor, gripping tightly and unrelenting in its hold and impossible to remove once its hold solidified. It was that cursed thing she felt in the very moment, but not for herself, or even Tyler, who was the one trapped with the monster and potentially being mauled alive.
No. It was for Enid, who Wednesday was foolish enough to drag into the whole mess. She didn't let it show on her face, retaining a neutral expression, but she could not stop her hands from shaking as she wrapped her snood around the dumbwaiter, silently promising herself to retrieve it once they were free from danger. Or when she helped Enid out the window first, ensuring she was safely through before Wednesday pulled herself up after.
No, she hid it well beneath her expertly crafted mask. The same one she wore as Enid tore down the walls to her stone fortress brick by brick. She absorbed Enid's words, every last one landing as harshly as they’d been delivered. Wednesday could only swallow uncomfortably the burning sensation collecting behind her eyes, refusing to blink and allow a traitorous emotion to break free. She had been careless, and now she faced the scalding aftermath of Enid’s ire, nothing less than she deserved. Wednesday would always be calculated and selfish and, for that reason alone, would never be worthy of a permanent fixture at the wolf’s side.
Enid stomped out the door, red bag in hand, and all Wednesday did was stare forlornly at her retreating back until the door slammed shut, sentencing Wednesday to the deafening silence of their room. Who was this girl that wormed her way, dyed tips and all, into Wednesday’s cold, dead heart? Who had awakened a century old curse that she never thought possible inside her. Only to leave again in a devastatingly beautiful storm and made a mess of her heart. She could hardly remember life before they ever met. Not when Enid evoked such grand feelings inside of her, without so much as words.
Morosely Wednesday curled up under the divide of their… her color stained panoramic window. The clamorous thunderstorm rattled the glass in its frame, unrelenting with its onslaught of rain drops like hail against the window. The ferocity of it mimicked the swirling emotions raging in Wednesday’s mind, one louder than all the rest. Goody had been right. Wednesday was meant to be alone. Prior to Nevermore the idea thrilled her, she had craved permanent solitude from society. So why now, did it feel so wrong?
Days passed, but the cold emptiness inside the room persisted, regardless of how many layers Wednesday wore. It was impossible to escape the deafening solitude that was her dorm.
That was until Enid returned, claiming for some strange reason they worked, and she was right. In every way they were polar opposites and yet no one else seemed to understand Wednesday the way Enid did and vice versa. Months ago. If someone told Wednesday she would come to care so deeply for her roommate, she wouldn’t have hesitated in disemboweling them on the spot for saying something so appalling, but now? Standing before Enid, the girl who, not only, chose to come back but wanted to carry on in their friendship despite her many flaws?
It wasn’t hard for Wednesday to realize just how extraordinary Enid Sinclair was. It being her, who managed to bulldoze past Wednesday’s walls despite the many warning labels in her path, made sense. But the revelation wasn’t any less surprising. Wednesday was floored by such a revelation. No one, barring her family, had shared a positive sentiment about her. Those unfortunate enough to be exposed to her presence, for such an extensive period, always refrained from getting too close. To bear witness to such a thing that Enid grew to care so deeply for her in the same way she had, caused a sudden uptick of her heartbeat. Wednesday looked away from mesmerizing blue eyes, the erratic beat of her heart racing in her ears, feeling flustered by the blonde’s sincerity.
Wednesday needed to say something in return, regardless of the fact exchanging sentiments was something she typically abhorred. But she was unwilling to spoil her opportunity at a second chance, and she knew how much it meant to Enid to hear that Wednesday too shared the same thoughts regarding their companionship. Wednesday was undeserving of Enid’s forgiveness, but she wouldn’t dare take advantage of the chance presented to her. She wasn’t sure she could cope in a world where Enid was angry with her again. The words burned on the back of her tongue, desperately wanting to spill from her mouth, but Wednesday never was the impulsive type, so she ignored the overly sentimental thoughts. Instead, under the meager guise of Thing, she returned the sentiment, unwilling to spoil the second chance she’d been granted so soon.
___
The conversation was barely 72 hours ago, but Wednesday wished she had, in fact, said more. She wished now she had let such words fall from her lips, that for once she ignored all rational signs and as Enid would have said go with the flow, consequences be damned. Now it was too late. Blood continued to seep out of her gruesome stab wound in her abdomen. She tried to keep pressure to the injury, but still reeling from the aftereffects from the blow to her head and the copious amount of her blood leaking onto the floor, Wednesday was growing exhausted, her grip faltering. Based on the amount of blood loss, Wednesday was sure she was going to die here. She was dying, and it would be here, in this cold dark crypt, alone. Just as Goody said. Only now it didn’t seem so glorious.
Her conscience began to fade into an eternal slumber when Goody’s opaque figure hovered before her, arms extended over her limp form.
___
Wednesday ran through the woods as quickly as her fatigued body would allow. Goody’s powers hadn’t been able to heal the wounds, but had temporarily sealed them and made it, so she no longer felt the excruciating pain they afflicted upon her. That left her with just enough time to send the genocidal pilgrim back to his grave where he belonged and say goodbye to Enid.
___
It really shouldn’t have been all that shocking when a blonde ball of fur crashed through the woods and barrelled straight into the Hyde , freeing Wednesday from his grip. Wednesday didn’t need a second glance to tell her who it was. The blue and pink tips on the fur were enough of a giveaway. The all too familiar sense of spiders filling her stomach returned. Enid was here, and she shifted to save her.
Wednesday stared in awe, completely allured by the sight before her.
Enid was grappling with the Hyde , and winning. A flash of pride passed over her face. Wednesday never once doubted the strength of her wolf. All of their peers made the error of underestimating her, mistaking her sunny disposition for a weakness in character. But never Wednesday.
“Enid,” the name slipped breathlessly from Wednesday’s mouth, the love and adoration clear. Enid turned, the yellow of her eyes fading to the blue, visibly softening when she spotted her.
The distraction was all the Hyde needed to collect his bearings. In one leap, he crossed the separated distance. Wednesday shouted a warning, but it was too late. The Hyde pounced on Enid, sending them sprawling yards away from Wednesday.
Wednesday wanted to run after them, but hesitated. Distant screams cut through the woods, echoing all around. Crackstone had reached Nevermore. It shouldn’t have been a hard choice. But watching Enid take on the Hyde , risking her life to protect Wednesday’s own, which was quickly coming to an end, was the moment Wednesday finally understood.
Why their time apart left Wednesday feeling like she couldn’t breathe, struggling to catch her breath. Why she couldn’t stand seeing Lucas and later Ajax, standing by Enid’s side. Where she should have been. Why, Enid was the one person she didn’t mind being in her personal space. In fact, Wednesday craved it, cherishing every minute of it they had.
Love.
The four letter word she absolutely abhorred. Somehow, the nagging feeling from their first interaction lingered and spiraled into this disgusting feeling that didn’t sound all too horrid when it meant being in love with Enid. The whole time some part of her knew, but she was far too stubborn. Maybe if she hadn’t pushed the feelings so far down into Pandora's box, they wouldn’t be in this mess.
Maybe then she would have never had to make this choice. Did she stay and help Enid with the Hyde ?
Or leave her and save the school?
Wednesday turned, sparing the battling beasts one final glance before running for Nevermore. Enid would be fine. There was no other choice. Wednesday had to trust her. Believing in Enid was never hard, so despite her heart demanding she turn back, Wednesday listened to her head, hoping with every step she ran, she hadn’t made the wrong choice.
_____
It was ironic really, the entire night Wednesday feared the fate of her beloved but discarded her own. When Enid pulled her even closer than possible, burrowing deeply into the side of her neck, Wednesday felt the magical stitches begin to unravel.
Tightening her hold, Wednesday savored the moment, knowing it would be the last. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. She internally wept at what could have been. They stayed there in each other’s arms until Wednesday’s strength diminished and she no longer had the strength to hold herself up.
The pain returned in full force, the searing sensation causing Wednesday to clench her jaw in an effort to avoid crying out. She wanted to drag out the peaceful bliss, if only for a little longer. Enid caught her, just as she fell, enveloping Wednesday in her arms. Slowly she lowered them both down to the ground.
Wednesday said nothing, simply watching the alarm register on Enid’s face. For the first and last time, she grabbed Enid’s hands, focusing her attention away from the grave wound on her side.
Looking into the blue eyes responsible for awakening her centuries old curse, Wednesday resolved it was better that Enid would never know the true extent of her feelings. The way her heart longed to be with the blonde at every waking moment. How Enid’s gaze felt like being burned under the heat of a thousand suns in the most deplorable way. She couldn’t dare burden her with the truth, not when it would only hurt Enid more after she was gone.
As her heart slowed, even keeping her eyes open grew to be too much, she fought to reopen them every time. Lying there in Enid’s arms as Wednesday realized she wasn’t ready to die. Not when so much of her life remained unfulfilled. And the worst part was, it meant leaving Enid behind. And what bitter irony it was, Wednesday, who always took pride in her obsession over death, was unprepared to be its next victim. Enid’s mouth moved without a sound from those soft lips. Distantly, the vague figure of Goody materialized, standing a ways away into the woods. Watching. Waiting.
It wasn’t long before Wednesday was being pulled under into the land of unconsciousness. But not before she registered a new sharp pain, much more intense than her other injuries, blossomed on her backside. Only for it to ebb away, the last of Wednesday’s senses slipping away with it and into the dark pit of oblivion.
__________
Part of being a werewolf was the benefit of heightened senses. Enid never knew what that felt like. Hers were always dulled down compared to the other furs, since she had never wolfed out. So when for the first time in her life, Enid felt the pull of the moon as her brother’s always described, it was more than a little overwhelming to adjust to the sudden change. Turns out the woods weren’t as silent as Enid used to think. Cicadas buzzed all around her from every direction. Quite frequently, she would hear the soft rustling from the branches above her head as she ran to the head of the crowd. That wasn’t the only new sense she picked up on either. The surrounding smells were exhilarating. She could smell the sharp tang of the fall leaves in the air. The lingering, pungent smell of ash covering the clothes as the trio walked her way was the most potent.
Despite the many mixed scents from those around her, only one mattered to Enid. It was unmistakable really. Only one person smelled of leather-bound books, ink and water lilies. Wednesday . Enid sprinted faster, her body aching in protest, but she didn’t care. She pushed herself further until Wednesday was in arm's reach, immediately throwing her arms around the shorter girl.
Wednesday was here, gathered in her arms. Enid was practically drowning in her scent, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. She tucked her nose in the crook of the other girl's neck, taking in a deep breath, and trying to pull in as much of the smell as she could. If Enid never had to let Wednesday out of her sight again, it would still be too soon.
Enid was aware of the eyes on their back the longer they remained glued together, but she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was reassuring herself, her friend was really here, alive. They both were.
If only Enid wasn’t so focused on the comforting weight of Wednesday in her hold for the first time. How Wednesday not only pulled her back in, but clung to her like her life line, arms tightening around her waist. Enid wrapped her own around the raven’s shoulders, hoping to crush any non-existing space between them, and cool the blood roaring in her ears. Maybe, just maybe, if Enid had been focused on anything else, she would’ve heard it. The gradual slowing beat of Wednesday’s heart right below her head. She might have smelled the overwhelming scent of copper surrounding the air around them.
It wasn’t until Wednesday’s arms slacked around her before falling away completely, Enid realized something was wrong. She caught Wednesday just before she hit the ground, slowly lowering them both down until she laid the raven haired girl on her back. Kneeling down at her side, Enid took in for the first time what she carelessly missed. Right on Wednesday’s stomach, a jagged hole was ripped through both the gray vest and the white shirt that lay underneath. Being careful not to jostle Wednesday too much, Enid raised the sweater, revealing the complete bottom half of the usually pristine white shirt stained a deep crimson.
Enid gasped at the sight. The metallic scent blended in with Wednesday’s own. Any other wolf would’ve been able to pick the smells apart miles away, but Enid wasn’t any other wolf. She never learned to rely on her wolfish traits, what was the point when Enid thought she might never wolf out. But being so close, the metallic scent was unmistakable, drowned out Wednesday’s own.
“No, no no no! Wednesday please. You’re going to be okay. Yoko, call for help!” Enid yelled over to where she knew her friends were standing, her shoulder, never once taking her eyes off her roommate. In a flurry of movements, Enid brought her hands down to cover the wound, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding.
There was so much blood, the slick substance covering her hands completely. Enid tried not to let the bloody sight get to her, she could only help Wednesday from bleeding out if she was conscious. Not passed out on the ground next to her. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurring vision, but it didn’t matter. Nothing Enid did was working, Wednesday was still losing so much blood, and at this rate, she would bleed out before help ever came. Enid's hands moved frantically over Wednesday's torso but the bleeding just wouldn’t stop.
“Stop.” Cold hands covered her own. “Enid, look at me.” Enid looked up, taking in the dark glazed over eyes. Wednesday rarely blinked, so to watch the ways her eyes constantly fluttered was unnerving.
“I’m dying.” Wednesday said unaffected, her voice flat like her dying was nothing short of an inconvenience. But Enid knew her better than that, the smallest trace of fear clear in her tone.
“No Wednesday you-”
“Enid!” The protests died in Enid’s throat. Wednesday’s molten gaze held her own, eyes filled with warmth and vulnerability so different from her bleak expression. “The mark you have left on me is indelible and I will forever cherish it. In spite of my frigid and coarse manner towards you when we first met, you never gave up on me despite no obligation and have taught me what it means to care deeply for another in ways I used to only think possible in those disgusting novels you insist upon reading on the internet. I thank you, Enid Sinclair, for being so extraordinary of a being.”
“Wednesday.” Enid gasped, surprised at the confession. Since they first met, Enid understood Wednesday had other ways of expressing her care for others, her words never one of them. So hearing in words just how much she meant to Wednesday, well, it stirred something deep inside of her. How was she supposed to live a life without the raven? Sure, Enid had Yoko and Divina, and their other friends, but none of them could fill the Wednesday sized hole in her life. Her heart clenched painfully at the thought.
Wednesday interlaced their fingers, bringing Enid's eyes down to the way their hands fit perfectly. “It’s okay.”
Enid adjusted their positions, carefully pulling Wednesday into her lap and wrapping her left hand around her shoulder to keep her upright. She guided their intertwined hands between them. Physical contact had always been a substantial source of comfort for the blonde, but now it only served as a heart wrenching reminder. The only reason Enid could hold Wednesday like this was because she would never get the chance to do it again.
“But it’s not.” Enid clung to Wednesday tighter, a distressed whine escaping from her throat when the raven’s head slumped down on her shoulder. Wednesday’s breathing was labored, every breath heavier than the last. “I don’t want to live without you. I can’t.” her voice cracked. Enid tightened her grip around Wednesday’s smaller hand, her claws jutting out slightly.
Wednesday didn’t answer, her eyes slipping closed. Enid whimpered, feeling Wednesday’s grip slacken in her own. She closed her eyes, hoping that maybe when she opened them she would wake up from this never-ending nightmare. That they would be back in their dorm, Enid giggling at something on her phone while Wednesday sat at her desk during her writing hour. It was a moment so often shared between them, Enid had started looking forward to it every day. But when she opened her eyes, nothing changed. Her throat burned, unshed tears building in the corners of her eyes when she swallowed. She didn’t want to accept the truth. This was real. Wednesday was dying. And there was nothing Enid could do to save her.
So she waited and watched, her breath faltering whenever Wednesday took a moment too long to take another breath. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, cradling her best friend in her arms, silently pleading with the universe for a miracle that was never coming.
She was unready when Wednesday took her final shaky breath, when her chest didn’t rise again. Enid desperately strained her ears, maybe if she listened straight from the source there would still be a beat. After all, she was new to the whole heightened hearing thing. What if she just missed one? But when Enid listened, stretching her hearing to its limits, only silence greeted her .
And that, well, that finally cemented what she continuously tried to deny. She felt as though someone took a hammer to her heart and smashed until millions of pieces were scattered everywhere. The world faded around her and all Enid could do was stare at the pale girl in her arms, so lifeless and still. No matter how hard she tried, Enid couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat. It was only when Ajax tried to pry them apart, reminding her they weren’t alone, that she couldn’t do it anymore. Shrugging the gorgon’s hand from her shoulder, Enid wrapped her hands around Wednesday’s shoulders, refusing to let her go.
She buried her face in Wednesday’s neck, turning her nose as deep into the fabric, where her heart should’ve been beating. Enid inhaled the lingering scent that just a few days ago brought her much comfort. Now it would only serve as a reminder of all that she lost. It was the final straw that broke the camel's back. The tears Enid managed to keep at bay were finally free to run down her face, and onto the gray cardigan. She cried for not being too late, for not wolfing out sooner, for not being able to do anything to save Wednesday. In 16 years, she didn’t wolf out. Until today, but it wasn’t enough to save her friend. Enid stared up at the blood moon, a part of her wanting to throw her head back and howl, a sound low and sad. To break free of her human skin and hide behind the thick coating of her fur. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to feel so frayed, as she stared up at the red of the moon, resembling the blood stained on her hands. The hands that buried deeply into Wednesday’s back and just slightly raked down as her hands found their place just below her ribs, aided by a set of sharp claws. It was only when Enid felt the easy shredding of fabric beneath her fingers did she notice her claws fully unsheathed. She quickly retracted them, grabbing a handful of the remaining pieces of Wednesday’s blazer, unaware of just how deep her claws ran.
What she didn’t know was that she was already too late.
Eight parallel deep grooves marked the pale girl’s skin. The three layers of clothes stood no chance against the full extension of Enid’s colorful claws. The marks were no longer than a few inches but Enid’s grip was deep enough that her claws managed to pierce skin, breaking it open enough for a small trace of her Lycan DNA to fall into Wednesday’s bloodstream and infect many of her white blood cells.
Loosening her grip, Enid laid Wednesday back down onto the forest floor. If only she had waited a moment longer, Enid might’ve noticed the marks start to pool with blood. She would’ve seen the beads of blood well up and eventually fall on the forest floor.
Staring down at Wednesday , she continued to cry. No one around her said a word, giving her a chance to grieve alone. Only when her tears started to slow, did the emotional pain really make itself known. Her entire body felt numb, her senses going into overdrive. It was all too much, the different smells, the eyes on her back. Enid just wanted to grab Wednesday in her arms and take off further into the woods. But she didn’t, even trying to force her limbs to move was draining.
Yoko pulled Enid to her feet, gently leading her back a few yards. Enid didn’t bother turning to look at the vampire, too lost in her own head. Yoko didn’t say anything simply standing beside her, understanding that was all Enid needed in the moment.
The crowd behind them continued to linger, picking up on the desolate mood tainting the air. That was until the blaring siren getting closer sounded in the distance. The approaching blue and red lights appeared near the school gates, coming to a sudden stop in the clearing. Two paramedics jumped out from the back, immediately rushing to Wednesday’s side and jumping into CPR. There was such a low chance of it working, Wednesday had lost so much blood, but that didn’t stop Enid from wishing.
It was agonizing to watch, but there was no way Enid was going to pull herself away for even a second. Yoko moved closer to her side, not directly touching her but close enough that the fabric of their clothes brushed together. It reminded her of all the times she and Wednesday did the same thing when they walked to class.
Four minutes they stood there, neither moving a muscle. When both paramedics sat back on their heels, hands thrown behind their head and frowning, Enid knew it was over. Seeing the way their faces fell only confirmed it.
One looked down at their watch, calling out the time of death, but Enid already zoned out. It was like she was stuck under water. Yoko said something to her, but she couldn’t hear it. Her breathing sped up, ears ringing with the nasty crash back down to reality. Yoko turned fully, sending Enid a concerned glance and reaching for her. Enid ignored her, moving away slightly, fearing she would break again the second the vampire touched her.
Enid opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, when she heard it. The sound of an almost inaudible thump. Enid brushed it off at first, not believing the sound to be real, but then it happened again. And again. And again.
“Yoko, did you hear that?” Enid tried, and failed, to keep the hope from her voice. If she was wrong… the very idea would send her spiraling further.
They listened for a moment, holding their breath. Yoko’s face lit up. “Yes! I heard it too. Do you think…?” She sent a questioning look to Enid, but she was met with an empty space, Enid already racing back over to Wednesday’s side. She dropped to her knees without a second thought, ignoring the flare of pain at the motion.
The paramedics startled at her appearance but Enid was only focused on one thing. One of them reached out trying to usher her away but Enid growled, she wasn’t about to let either of them get between her and her m a- friend. She glared at them, her growl deepening, irises flashing bright gold.
Thump.
Thump.
The weak sound of Wednesday’s pulse cut off her growl. Enid’s full attention returned to Wednesday. Uncaring of the way the paramedics anxiously stared at her, she pulled Wednesday back into her arms, there was no way she was letting go of her again. Enid rose to her feet gracefully, her newfound strength unaffected by the girl in her arms. If Wednesday were awake, Enid knew she would protest being carried like this.
Awake.
Just being able to think about the moment Wednesday was going to wake up and that her friend was somehow alive was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. Wednesday was going to be okay. Walking over to the ambulance, Enid promised to herself she wouldn’t leave Wednesday’s side. Carefully laying her down on the stretcher, Enid climbed in next to her, curling her body around the unconscious girl. For the first time that night, a wave of calmness spread over her. Finally, the chaos seemed to settle and she could breathe easier. Wednesday was far from being ok, who knows how long it would take before then, but being hurt and alive was already much better than being dead.
The lack of movement, drew Enid’s eyes away from her friend. She met the eyes of two very disgruntled and weary looking paramedics before practically snarling, “well, aren’t you gonna get in?” They flinched at her harsh tone, but knew better than to come between a wolf, let alone one in protective mode, not if they wanted to make it to the hospital in one piece.
They quickly spurred into action, gathering all of their previously abandoned tools and sitting on the benches either side of Enid and slamming the doors closed. The ambulance finally in motion, Enid relaxed a little and refocused on Wednesday. She gently brushed her bangs out of her face, getting the first good look at her all night. Dried blood covered the right side of her face, hiding several cuts and a few bruises. It ran up to her bangs, ending in a clump near her temple. At this point her uniform, though Enid didn't think it could actually still be called that, was mostly shredded, specifically the blazer and sweater. The solid white shirt, more in one piece than the other two, clung tightly to pale tan skin, the single hole in the front showcasing her worst injury.
Wednesday shivered, her eyebrows furrowing. Enid noticed, swiftly moving closer and pressing her cheek to Wednesday’s head. No amount of space separated them, and she was more than pleased with that.