Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Wednesday resolutely stared into the mouth of the tall fireplace as her parents signed her soul away to this last ditch attempt at containing her. “We really do appreciate the lengths you are going to for our Wednesday, Larissa. There aren’t many places that will accept her considering the circumstances, but I knew you wouldn’t turn us out into the cold night air,” her mother schmoozed. Her new jailkeeper, Principal Weems, was a tall, elegant woman who had been her mother’s roommate during her tenure at the academy. All the more reason not to trust her.

Weems patiently explained that since Wednesday’s grades were exemplary (the curse of under-achieving peers), her family had an illustrious history with the school (ah, nepotism, how charming), and the court mandate was very specific (an unforeseen obstacle), they were willing to make an exception to their usual policies. Wednesday glanced at her.

“Not every school has the capacity to accommodate your situation, but Nevermore is more than equipped to handle the present circumstances,” Weems assured her parents. She never dropped eye contact with Wednesday, so the girl heard her meaning loud and clear: You will be kept here, and kept under control. Wednesday would like to see her try.

Wednesday called her bluff: “Principal Weems, how do you intend to keep a close eye on my progress if you are head of the entire academy? Even with my family’s influence I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to than minding the day to day of one student.” There was no way this woman had the time – or the patience – to keep up with her. Weems stood. Her lips quirked up in a tight-lipped grin. Her red lipstick reminded Wednesday of the fake blood of a horror movie, much too vivid to compare to the real thing.

“Quite right,” Weems said, “which is why you’ve been assigned a minder to attend classes with you and keep an eye on your, as you said, day to day comings and goings. I will check in with you regularly, but she will be the one keeping you out of trouble.” Her smile was not unkind. That made it even more infuriating.

Wednesday turned from the towering woman and glared at her father. “Ay, my little viper, this was the best we could do to keep you in school. You want to keep up with your studies, yes?”

“They’re the best in the business,” her mother assured her.

Weems passed Wednesday a card from the open file on her desk. “The Sinclair Security Firm has been protecting outcasts for decades, both from and for normies. I think you will find that they will be more than capable of handling you.” The business card was a crisp matte white with golden text. The text simply read “Like You’re Part of the Pack”. The logo was a waning moon with a padlock insignia. There was no further information.

Wednesday glanced at the three adults. Each one of them was vying for her to show some kind of approval of this laborious punishment. Not on their life.

Instead, she asked, “Are they outcasts?” Her parents looked at each other briefly, then at her. She knew that meant they had talked via eye contact alone, but she had yet to learn how to read minds. She’d have to ask grandmama for more tips when she escaped this place.

Weems clicked her tongue. “Unfortunately, as part of the court mandate, this is where we have to leave your family for now. You can see them again on Parents’ Weekend, but it was recommended that you get to know the school for a while before you have further contact. It isn’t my choice but we have to do as was recommended.”

“I believe you meant to say ordered,” Wednesday cut in.

Weems nodded once. “Morticia, Gomez, are you ready to say your goodbyes?”

Normally, Wednesday could appreciate a morbid turn of phrase, but right now… She knew this was coming, but not so soon. Her parents stood. Her father hugged her quickly, saying how much he would miss her, how much all of them would miss her. How much she would love Nevermore. Don’t, she silently begged him. Her face revealed nothing.

Her mother tried to say something miserable to her and of course she bit back with venom. It was an act of self-defense. Morticia straightened ever so slightly and she knew her strike had hit home. Then, the slender woman handed her a necklace, explaining that it had been used to channel spirits and conjure visions. Possibly useful. As well as an insipid comment about how it was their initials. “It’s a symbol of our connection,” she purred. Wednesday accepted the gift wordlessly.

She turned about face and walked up to Weems. She could tell this hurt her mother’s feelings immensely. Good. “Wednesday, you are breaking your mother’s heart,” her father added like an infatuated wet blanket. He held Morticia’s hand to his chest.

“Impossible, she doesn’t have one to break.”

Her mother sighed and Wednesday could feel her smile even without looking. Instead, she glowered up at her new principal. Wednesday could hear her father kissing her mother over and over again somewhere and glowered harder.

Weems raised one distressed eyebrow at her former classmates for a moment. She looked down and gave Wednesday that tight-lipped smile. “Shall we go meet your roommate?”

Wednesday skulked out of the office. It wasn’t as if she had much of a choice in the matter.

When they entered the bedroom, the first thing she noticed was how barren it was. Her own side of the room was, of course, acceptably monochrome. Her collection of steamer trunks waited for her, and the other side of the room had one suitcase and duffle bag sitting on the floor. Most of the other half was muted brown tones – wooden beams and aged floorboards – except for a garishly bright patchwork quilt. The multicolored squares ranged in patterns from pinstripes (acceptable ) to hearts ( not acceptable if not anatomical ) and shades of hot pink to dusty pink to pastel pink ( not not not acceptable).

Some of the squares bore logos: “The Balkan Howlers 2017,” “Happy Wolf Houston 2015,” “Lucky Lycan Lakes 2018,” “Were-Manor Summer Academy 2020,” they proclaimed. The corners were folded in tightly; hospital corners. Rather old fashioned, Wednesday thought, picking a piece of dust off of her pigtails. Whoever this stranger was, they had even fewer personal affects than Wednesday herself. Wednesday kept things sparse, but this minder appeared to only have one comfort object, and a blanket wasn’t much of a memento.

Weems glanced around the room and called, “Enid?”

A girl around Wednesday’s height (fine, Wednesday’s height while wearing platform boots) stepped into view on the balcony. She pushed the stark white window open and marched up to Weems and Wednesday. “Yes ma’am. I’ve checked the perimeter.” The girl appeared to be about Wednesday’s age. Her wavy sandy blonde hair was tied back in twin french braids, close to her head. Her spine was so ramrod straight that it rivaled Wednesday’s own stiff posture. She stood fully facing Weems, feet shoulder width apart. Weems placed a hand on her shoulder.

“At ease, Enid. I see you are already hard at work,” she said, her voice taking on a comforting quality that made Wednesday’s skin crawl. Weems seemed... concerned? “Wednesday, meet your roommate.”

The girl turned to her and Wednesday locked eyes with sharp blue ones. “Enid Sinclair,” she introduced, holding out a hand.

Wednesday glanced down at it like it was a dead fish at the supermarket. The fun part was already over; it was hardly worth playing with at that point. “You’re the guard dog?” It was a guess at her outcast status, fully intended to rile her up to gather information, but if it bothered Enid, she didn’t let it show. Enid let her hand drop.

Wednesday looked the girl up and down. She wore heavy tan work boots, pale green corduroy pants, and a furry gray vest over a long sleeve thermal shirt. She looked like a summer-camp counselor fell into a blender with an army brat. Wednesday could eat her for breakfast without breaking a sweat. “You should double check that perimeter,” Wednesday sniped. “I already see four separate ways to enter this room without you noticing, and another three where you can’t stop an intruder even if you do detect them.”

Enid’s hands flexed at her sides and she stood tall. She smiled at Wednesday and it felt deeply unkind. “Wednesday Addams, I will be your bodyguard for the foreseeable future. Sinclair Security takes our work very seriously, and you will not leave my sight for the semester and possibly the entire school year. 24/7 protection.”

“I hardly think that anyone at this sheltered boarding school poses a threat to me.”

For the first time since entering their room, Enid’s formal posture slackened. Her shoulders dropped and this stranger actually giggled, honest to goodness giggled, at Wednesday. Giggling near Wednesday was already absurd, but giggling at her? “A threat to you?” Enid’s tone grew serious, edging on mean. “No, Wednesday, I’m protecting people from you.”

Her laugh bubbled up again, and if looks could kill Wednesday felt she may have one foot in the grave. What was up with this girl? Not that she was wrong about Wednesday either… Wednesday’s inquisitive glare was interrupted by their principal clearing her throat.

“Alright ladies,” Weems’s voice rang out above them. “I will leave you two to move in. Play nice. I remind you both that you are required to behave yourselves.” Demonstrating her incredible skill at delegation, Weems turned to leave, leaving Wednesday alone with this absolute weirdo.

“Principal Weems?”

“Yes?” She looked back at the intense blonde.

Wednesday glanced at the other girl. Enid folded her hands behind her back. “Thank you for putting me back in my old room.” She couldn’t seem to hold eye contact with their principal.

“I had hoped having familiar surroundings may bring you some comfort,” Weems said kindly. Enid nodded at the floor. “Let me know if either of you need help settling in.” Enid straightened up and her arms dropped to her sides again.

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am,” Enid said. She stood at attention until the door shut with a soft shhhhft. Enid dropped her military rigidity. She turned and looked Wednesday up and down flatly. Wednesday returned the bland glare. Not often did she run into someone who appeared to correctly assess her for the threat she was. That alone was… intriguing. “I heard you tried to run from the last three schools you were in. And killed a guy.”

“There were two, but they haven’t found the second.”

Enid didn’t blanch. “Any funny business here, and I will snap you in half like a twig.”

“I didn’t think a security firm was supposed to make idle threats.”

Enid’s face gained a bit of faux-mirth. “Oh don’t worry!” Her voice dropped into a biting growl. “They’re not idle.” Wednesday strode at the girl, knife ready to slide out of her sleeve, but Enid stood her ground. Before Wednesday could get a solid slash in, Enid raised her hands and her claws popped out. The knife stopped with an ugly clang. That confirmed Wednesday’s suspicions at least.

Wednesday froze, eyes burning. Enid held her eye contact.

Wednesday wouldn’t say who broke away first.

They unpacked in silence.

Chapter Text

As Wednesday unpacked her trunks, Enid didn't speak to her at all. Usually, this was preferable, but Wednesday could feel the other girl listening, and that knowledge was unnerving. Wednesday was always the eavesdropper, never the eavesdropped. Enid had placed the few shirts and coats she had into her closet, fluffed her pillow, and then exited to their balcony, sitting cross-legged on the stone railing.

Wednesday imagined the delightful shapes her body would make were she to “slip” off the side, but it wasn’t worth testing the girl’s reflexes so soon after the claws incident. She had to wait for an element of surprise.

After tucking a pair of boots underneath her bed, she shut her last suitcase and shoved it into her closet. There was nothing left to unpack. Wednesday glanced out the window. Enid rested her head on her hand, staring down upon the rest of the campus grounds. Her face had a contemplative, somber quality. It reminded Wednesday of her family’s visit to a small coastal town in Ireland, where she had watched with glee as widows gazed morosely over the gray waters that had stolen their lovers away. Wednesday’s nose wrinkled. How trite. She turned away to finish preparing for her ‘wonderful first day of school.’

Her custom uniform hung on the back of her closet door, a punishment yet to be enacted but menacing her regardless. She tugged it on roughly.

Wednesday’s new jacket hugged her shoulders like an overfamiliar uncle who was about to lose his favorite kidney. She glared at her reflection in the mirror. The Nevermore crest shone brightly: Unitas Est Invicta. The thought that she did look remarkably like her mother flitted by her mind’s eye for a moment before she stomped the life out of it completely.

She exhaled in frustration.

Wednesday turned back to the balcony and found Enid already watching her. Enid eyed her for a moment, then resumed moping towards the courtyard below.

She would have to lose this bodyguard if she was going to escape. She refused to be part and parcel to a ploy to control her concocted by the state and, more importantly, by her parents. They would not make her into a shadow of their former selves. Never .

Wednesday entered her closet and rustled some of her clothes. Enid did not turn. So the seer decided to test her theory. She closed the door behind her and waited. There was no movement in the rest of the room. She cracked the door open and her own beady eye met Enid’s. When Enid saw her, she turned back around, apparently satisfied that the goth was still nearby. Wednesday opened the door and then slammed it closed. Still no sound of movement from the other side. She pulled the door open and met Enid’s frown with a glare of her own. Enid scoffed and turned away again. Interesting.

Wednesday continued slamming and opening the door for a full two minutes, and after the thirteenth slam, Enid had stopped turning around. Wednesday pulled her shoes off, careful to stay quiet. Enid didn’t move. With shoes in hand, Wednesday tiptoed to the door of the room. She slammed that door in the same fashion that she had with her closet, and swept down the stairs. She took each step painfully slowly, making sure not to cause any unwanted creaks from the aging stairs.

She had made it halfway down when the door to her room burst open.

The corduroy-covered menace with claws scowled down at her, nostrils flaring. “Wednesday,” Enid’s voice warned.

That was her cue to leave.

Wednesday bolted down the last few steps, stumbling as she tried to pull her shoes on. The thump of Enid vaulting over the railing and crashing down the stairs after her served has a potent catalyst to run even faster. She rounded a corner, cursing the sheer number of rooms contained in Ophelia Hall. If she could make it to the stairs to the main hall, she could cause enough of a ruckus to– Her plot was cut short when a heavy body slammed into her back. She was sent sprawling. She twisted and suddenly was face to face with pointed teeth and furious blue eyes. Enid snarled, words barely comprehensible: “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Away,” Wednesday grunted. She shoved her hand into the boot she had failed to slip on in her mad dash and slammed the heel as hard as she could into Enid’s shoulder. Enid winced. She didn’t let go but her grip loosened just enough for Wednesday to scrabble away. She pushed herself to her feet but before she could take a single step, two strong arms wrapped around her midsection. She elbowed backwards, hard, and was rewarded with a hard exhale. Then the arms lifted her up, turned her to the side and dumped her unceremoniously back onto the ground. Enid delivered her knee directly into Wednesday’s abdomen and Wednesday huffed out all the air in her lungs. Her diaphragm contracted angrily and she couldn’t pull in a full breath.

Enid switched positions then, shoving Wednesday’s face away. This was an unexpectedly bright maneuver, as otherwise Wednesday would have bitten her. Enid cranked Wednesday’s arm back and swung a leg around it, flipping Wednesday onto her stomach. An immense amount of pressure placed itself between her angel wings. She felt Enid’s warm breath at her ear before the other girl spoke. “What part of 24/7 surveillance don’t you understand?”

For once Wednesday couldn’t deliver a comeback. Though that was certainly because of a lack of breath, and absolutely not the fact that Wednesday had been blindsided again by this overzealous babysitter’s tackle. She gritted her teeth.

“Now, you’re coming back to the room right this second,” Enid growled.

Wednesday struggled against the hold, and Enid twisted her arm even further. “I won’t hesitate to break your shoulder.”

A door opened in the hallway.

“Oh my god, Enid?” The pressure on Wednesday’s back lessened, allowing her to suck in air. She craned her neck to see over her shoulder. Peeking out of one of the dorm rooms was a pale girl with straight black hair and sunglasses. “You’re here?”

Enid’s face was mildly shocked. She tried to grin, but it came out as a grimace. “Hey, Yoko. Good to see you.” Wednesday wriggled, and Enid redoubled the pressure on her back.

“Who is that?” the new girl – Yoko – asked.

“This is– Stay down. This is Wednesday, she’s a client.”

Yoko’s eyebrows rose. “She’s a cli–”

Two arms snaked around Yoko’s waist and a brunette head popped up over her shoulder. She pressed against the other girl’s back, scarcely hiding her bare shoulders. “Enid! You aren’t dead!”

“She will be soon,” Wednesday muttered. This earned her another shove.

“When your blog went dark, we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you back, like back back?” the new girl asked.

“Just working,” Enid grunted out, pulling an arm around Wednesday’s neck. “Not gonna be in any classes that she’s not in.”

“Oh what the fuck there’s a girl under her.” The brunette finally realized Wednesday was there.

“Divina, Wednesday. Wednesday, Divina.”

“Charmed,” Wednesday grumbled into the floor.

“Uh, you good?” Divina asked.

“Never,” Wednesday groused again.

“So if you’re at least kinda back, do you think you can come over for a girls night?” Yoko asked, completely changing the course of the conversation. Wednesday furrowed her brow. Not only was she being humiliated underneath this beastly jailer, but now she had to participate in girl talk? “You can bring your creepy ward!” Yoko continued.

“Over your dead body,” Wednesday sniped.

Yoko’s face took on a startled expression that faded into mild bemusement. Her lips curled into a pert smile and she cocked an eyebrow. “Take me out to dinner first,” she said. She stuck out her tongue at Wednesday. Wednesday caught a glimpse of pointed fangs.

“Yoko!” Divina’s peal of laughter offended Wednesday’s ears.

Wednesday felt bile rise up in her throat – Was this vampire seriously flirting with her? Did she have a second death wish? And why did the topless girl wrapped around Yoko find that comment so amusing? Wednesday’s eyes darted up. They were met by Enid’s blue ones staring back at her. The girl seemed focused, but on what, Wednesday wasn’t sure.

“Probably not, this is sort of a full time job.” At this point Enid was basically lounging on top of Wednesday’s back. No move she tried got her any closer to escape. With each attempt the vice grip Enid had around her neck grew slightly tighter.

“Um, okay. Well, think about it?”

“Mmhm!” Enid’s smile died before it reached her eyes. The two girls closed the door, leaving Wednesday alone with this plaid menace.

“Are you gonna behave?” Enid breathed.

Neither girl moved.

Achingly slowly, Wednesday patted the floor twice, submitting. Enid sat back and Wednesday sucked in a breath. The spots in her vision faded. Enid rolled one shoulder a couple times and cracked her neck.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to grapple like that. Thanks for the practice.” Enid stood above her, offering a hand. Wednesday glowered and got to her feet by herself. She jabbed at the side of Enid’s knee, but instead of collapsing all the girl did was crinkle her nose in discomfort.

The clacking of heels echoed up the staircase at the end of the hallway. Wednesday’s other jailer emerged from the shadows.

“Ah! Miss Addams, Miss Sinclair, I expected you to still be in your room unpacking,” Weems greeted them. Enid straightened up, hands at her sides.

“Wednesday wanted to get to know the floor a little bit better.” Enid’s smile was tight.

“I’m pleased to hear that you’re settling in,” Weems said with a smile.

“Like rigor mortis.”

The only indication that their principal had taken in that comment was an eye twitch. “Well! I’m here to pick you up for your therapy session. I’ll return her to you once we’re done, Miss Sinclair. Perhaps you could pick up Wednesday’s schedule in the meantime?”

“Of course,” Enid nodded once and backed off.

“Are you ready to meet your new therapist? I’m sure she’s eager to meet you.”

Wednesday pushed out a long-suffering sigh. “As eager as a death row convict to meet her executioner.” Out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least the therapist wouldn’t put her in a stranglehold.

…

Probably.

Chapter Text

Wednesday’s trip into Jericho had been… rousing. At last, she had been separated from that thorn in her side named Enid Sinclair. Unfortunately, she had failed to escape the clutches of Nevermore. Her chances had looked promising, easily sneaking out of the therapist’s office and making a clean getaway to the cafe across the town square. Unfortunately, even the mop-top barista serving time behind the espresso machine had refused to help her, citing his own criminal past and “not wanting to get in trouble again.” His adherence to the law was spineless and naive.

Now, Weems walked her to her door in Ophelia Hall. The principal inhaled the stale air of the hallway. “It’s always nice visiting this dorm. It reminds me of when I shared a room with your mother,” she commented idly.

“Don’t try to bond with me. It is unbecoming at best, and at worst it is pathetic,” Wednesday sniped. If she was to be separated from her family, the least these miscreants could do was let her stay separated instead of reminding her of her legacy status in every waking moment. Weems’ smile faded at the edges like a photograph left out in direct sunlight.

“Miss Addams, Nevermore is to be like a second home to its students, and that includes you.” She held out one hand, palm up, to guide Wednesday up the stairs. The psychic smacked her hand away and was greeted with a sensation that had eluded her since her time at Nancy Reagan High.

Her head whipped back and eyes opened wide, unseeing. A sequence of flashes overtook her vision: herself looking into a mirror and closely examining her face, which was soon eclipsed by an achingly familiar hand skittering across recognizable wooden floorboards, followed by none other than Enid, sailing over a balcony and into the open air, her blue eyes shocked and wide.

Wednesday blinked from where she had fallen. The concerned face of her principal hovered above her and she glared up at it. The older woman knelt at her side, supporting her neck as the vision passed. The psychic quickly sat up and brushed her hand aside. The gesture of being held was far too familiar, far too motherly to be tolerated for a second longer.

Wednesday blinked back the sensation of overwhelming fear. She had felt her skin ripple off of her bones. It didn’t hurt, but the grotesque unfamiliarity of being in a body that didn’t fit her made an emotion rise up at the back of her throat. She choked it down with an angry shudder. Discomfort could be tolerated and even enjoyed, but the fear must be dismissed.

Weems tilted her head to the side, silently watching the young girl come back to herself. “You had a vision,” she stated. Wednesday glared at her through her bangs. “Your mother would sit dazed for hours, entirely in a world of her own. Are you all right?”

Her reply was a gruff, “I’m going to my room.” Wednesday was going to be free from her bodyguard, and in a spectacular fashion, too. She nearly grinned at the good news she had just received. She skulked up the narrow staircase and opened the door to her room.

She froze in the doorway.

The first thing she saw was that there were papers everywhere . She took inventory: Her blankets tossed aside all across the floor. Her gramophone’s horn removed and the crank ripped off. Her clothes that she had painstakingly sorted – off-black to true black – lay in a crumpled pile at her closet door. Her cello sulked in the corner, its bow’s strings snapped. Her typewriter .

Standing over her desk was that girl that Wednesday had assumed would be an annoyance, at most. Enid held the typewriter at head-height and shook it, peering into the space where keys met paper. She shook it, hard , grunting in frustration.

Her typewriter .

“Enid,” Wednesday spat.

Enid whipped around, and Wednesday could finally see the frenzied look in her eyes. Her blue eyes were bloodshot and furious . “You.” She slammed the typewriter down on the desk and it took everything to repress her gasp into a flinch.

Her typewriter .

Enid stalked forward, one halting step after another, to the psychic standing stock-still in the doorway. Wednesday couldn’t breathe , she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. Enid’s claws flexed out a little bit further with each ragged breath. “I am away from you for no more than one hour, and not only do you make an escape attempt, but you beat up three people in the attempt.” Her words came out in stuttering huffs. Her teeth, though blunt, were bared in a grimace.

“What did you do to my room?” is all Wednesday could think to ask. At least, in a voice that wasn’t an unintelligible howl.

“It’s our room,” Enid scowled. “Entirely under my purview to confiscate weapons. If you’re beating up normies when you’re unarmed, I’m making sure there’s no chance in hell you’ve anything worse than your own two fists.”

Enid jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Wednesday’s eyes landed on an unceremonious pile by the window. Eight of Wednesday’s knives, her second favorite crossbow, a collection of noxious vials – a gift from Grandmama – and her umbrella sans scabbard sat in a haphazard heap.

Wednesday didn’t need those. She had three weapons strapped to her person at all times, and she was an excellent combatant with improvised weapons. Her eyes drifted to what did matter. Her typewriter sat, sad and akimbo, one corner hanging off of her desk. Wednesday’s eyes flicked to Enid’s face, and she schooled her features into a stony glare. Threats were best delivered with a cool head.

She did not try to hide the venom in her voice. “Listen to me, right now. If you know what’s good for you, you will never touch my typewriter again.”

“No, you listen to me,” Enid growled. She grabbed the lapels of Wednesday’s uniform and hoisted her off her feet. The toes of her boots barely scraped the floor. “You are not ruining this for me, pipsqueak. You are not going to have a single moment away from me. You won’t be able to breathe funny without my finding out about it.” The werewolf’s blue eyes burned achingly hot against Wednesday’s skin. This girl loathed her. Wednesday would give her something worth loathing.

Wednesday spit in Enid’s face.

Enid flinched back, shaking Wednesday with the motion. She blinked the spit out of her eyes. She snarled, “You aren’t leaving my sight.” And she tossed Wednesday into the room like she weighed absolutely nothing.

Wednesday didn’t bother shielding her fall. She slumped on the floor. What was she supposed to do? Her family was far, far away, her privacy had been completely desecrated on every spiritual, emotional, and physical level, and the girl glued to her side despised her. This wolf would do anything to make sure Wednesday submitted; that much had been made crystal clear.

In an act of tactical retreat, Wednesday stood, brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and picked up her quilt. Enid watched from where she had thrown Wednesday. Her claws flexed in and out. Her breathing had slowed but still came in stuttering heaves. Even with the sun shining, Wednesday ambled to her bed and crawled in. Her shoes were still on.

A cloud of down feathers poof ed up around her as she dropped her head to the pillow. Enid must have found her shiv in the lining. Wednesday closed her eyes and, for once in her life, wished that this nightmare would end.

Chapter Text

Hours later, Wednesday was awakened by a hand gently shaking her. Without opening her eyes, she said, “If you don’t remove your hand from my shoulder I will remove it from your body.”

“I need to go to the lycan cages, you gotta get up.”

Wednesday cracked one eye open. Enid stood with her garish pink and yellow quilt wrapped around her shoulders. Out their window, the full moon hung low in the sky, still rising. Enid shifted her weight from foot to foot, not making eye contact. Wednesday squinted at Enid.

“I’m sorry about your pillow,” Enid said. Wednesday pushed herself up onto her elbows and surveyed the room. Her papers had been re-stacked, her clothes hung back on hangers, her gramophone had been reconstructed with the horn sitting only slightly askew. The pieces of her room were in the wrong order, but each one had been returned to an approximation of its proper place.

Enid reached out and picked a feather from her braids. Wednesday batted her away. “Sorry,” Enid repeated. She shuffled her feet then continued: “About the whole room, too. I went… overboard. I’ll buy you a new bow.” She tipped her head, gesturing over her shoulder. The wounded bow laid on the edge of Wednesday’s desk. It’s hairs were laid out in straight rows in some attempt at a repair, but it was a useless object now.

“Don’t bother, I’m lacing the next one with wolfsbane.”

Enid exhaled, a soft approximation of a laugh, but said nothing more.

The silence hung thick in the air.

Eventually, Enid spoke again: “I really do need you to get up.”

“And do what? Lock you in?”

Enid snorted. “No, I’ve got it. I’m taking you to Weems. She’ll watch you while I’m, uh, incapacitated.” The brunette’s eyes danced away from Wednesday. Her proverbial tail was tucked between her legs, and she worried the edge of her lip between her teeth. “Please, Wednesday?”

“What, you aren’t going to violate my autonomy and carry me there against my will?”

Instead of a biting retort, Enid’s shoulders hunched up to her ears. She shook her head. “Don’t run and I won’t chase,” she muttered darkly.

Wednesday pursed her lips. After a moment, she pulled back her sheets and got to her feet. She patted down the wrinkles in her uniform. She moved towards their door, and Enid scurried after her. Each footfall echoed down the hallway as the other girl’s flip flops slapped the tiles. She was dressed in navy gym shorts and a tank top, and her hair hung loose around her ears. It still held the crinkled pattern of her tight french braids she had been wearing all day. They passed an open window and she shivered, pulling the quilt tighter.

“I put your papers back in order,” Enid said. Wednesday did not bother responding.

“I wasn’t trying to read it, but it’s good. Really gory, but good,” Wednesday’s eyes slid over to her bodyguard’s face. Her eyes flitted to meet Wednesday’s then away again. “I liked how you wrote Viper and her mom, seems really personal to-”

“Please, if I wanted to be poorly psychoanalyzed I’d resurrect Freud,” Wednesday interrupted brusquely, and marched ahead.

Enid scampered after, finally silent.

When they arrived at Weems’s, Wednesday stood stock still, glaring at the doorknob. Enid stepped around her and knocked. A moment later, their – visibly drowsy – principal cracked the door open.

“Welcome,” she murmured, “Please, come in.”

Wednesday brushed past her. She pulled an armchair and tucked it into the corner of the room, attempting to scratch the floor as she went. Weems was too tired to fight her. She watched with an amused quirk to her lip. Wednesday perched on the edge of the chair and stared her down. If she had to be roused from her fitful sleep, it was the least she could do to make it as uncomfortable as possible for everyone else involved. “Comfortable?” Weems asked, voice innocent.

Wednesday squinted at her, not deigning to reply.

Enid shuffled in the doorway. “If that’s all, ma’am, I’m gonna…”

Weems inclined her head. “Of course, let me know if you need anything.”

Enid nodded stiffly and backtracked out of the room. The door shhh ed closed behind her. Click.

Weems turned back to Wednesday. Wednesday hadn’t moved an inch. “How are you finding your room?” Weems tried.

“How often do I have to do this?” Wednesday countered.

Weems sighed. “Each full moon, Ms. Addams. Your bodyguard is a werewolf and can’t be expected to watch you while she’s transforming after all.” She breezed by and stood at a small desk in the corner. “Tea? I have black,” she offered.

Wednesday examined her principal’s face. Thin smile lines crinkled at the edges of her wary eyes. She did not appear to hold any particular malice for Wednesday herself, just frustration. Wednesday tilted her head in recognition. Weems may be an opponent, but she was not an enemy.

Wednesday wordlessly nodded, and a few moments later, was handed white teacup full of scalding hot liquid. The tea swished around, slowly disseminating inky clouds of flavor. “Thank you,” Wednesday said. Only then did she allow herself to back further into the chair, curling her legs up to her chest.

Weems said nothing, quietly scratching away at a notepad on her desk. Wednesday took a sip in silence. If nothing else, she had a warm drink.

Enid padded down the hallway leading to the cages. Each one afforded the students a great deal of privacy and comfort, and included massive skylights for direct viewing of the moon. A low whine leaked out from under a door as Enid passed it – it must be one of the younger students who was newer to shifting. A lot of the younger wolves were so whiny about their transformations.

Enid stopped, spotting her name. Her door had a cheerful pink flower taped to it, ‘Enid S.’ scrawled across in loopy handwriting. Likely from one of the vampire students who help manage the cages. Enid wondered if it was Yoko. She’d noticed that her friend had added her name to the roster of student workers at the front door. Enid wondered if Yoko had done that for her. She traced her finger along the edge of the construction paper, then shook her head and entered her room, making sure to lock the door behind her.

The walls were a neutral cream color, except for one that had a roughly painted mural of a forest. A small pile of oversized rope toys and rawhide bones sat in the corner. She got why normies wanted werewolves locked up for their transformations or whatever, but that didn’t make it suck less. The mural and the chew toys felt like a kick while she was already down. She pulled her quilt tighter around her shoulders, stepping out of her flip flops and walking over to the supply bench. Under a coat hanger with a robe sat a pile of neatly folded blankets and pillows. She tugged out a particularly fluffy looking one from the bottom of the pile and tossed it into the middle of the room. She sat on it. And she looked up, out the skylight, at the moon. She waited.

Chapter Text

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the wolf’s frown as said wolf hauled her back into the building by her ankles. Even diving out a fifth story window would have been better than this minder on her heels every hour of the day – so Wednesday had tried it.

“Do you have a death wish?” Enid asked, only lightly out of breath. She carefully placed Wednesday back onto the floor, earning herself a swift kick to the calf. Enid winced but didn’t comment.

“The least you could do is try to fracture my fibula if you manhandle me like that.”

“Uggh! You’re so weird!” Enid inhaled hard and stomped her foot, once. “This is literally my job. I am going to tail you, forever, without stopping. That’s a promise.”

Tragically, Enid held true to her word the entire week. She lurked over Wednesday’s shoulder in class. She foiled every one of Wednesday’s escape plans. She even prevented Wednesday from slicing the face off of the school’s queen bee in their fencing class. Enid was a very persistent plague.

As usual, Enid had followed Wednesday into a dark corner for lunch. She didn’t raise a fuss about the spooky spots Wednesday found to eat in, but Wednesday appreciated the way her eyes would dart between spots of inky blackness. You didn’t have to use language to say you were afraid. Today Wednesday had found a particularly cobweb-filled rafter to squirrel away into. Enid perched next to her, chewing on a pork skewer. She sneezed.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “If you want to go somewhere more acclimated to your sensitive nose, you’re welcome to leave.”

Enid rolled her eyes and sighed. “Not on your – achoo! – life.”

Wednesday simmered. It had been worth a shot.

“Don’t pout.” Enid sneezed again.

“There you are!” a cheerful voice called from below them.

Wednesday glanced down. It was that vampire again, Yoko, this time with a boy she hadn’t seen before. They stood in the doorway, grinning up at the grim duo. Enid looked down too. She swallowed and grimaced. The vampire had become a second, slightly darker shadow in Wednesday’s life. All because Yoko was determined to follow Enid wherever she went.

Enid waved half-heartedly.

“Hey Enid!” the boy with the beanie yelled, waving with both arms . “Long time no see! I heard you got promoted to top dog! Congratulations!”

“Yep, that’s me. Top dog, ” Enid chuckled darkly . Her voice was flat. She chewed at the corner of her lip.

“Is that Wendy?” the boy asked.

He yelped and jumped away from the fork impaled in the doorframe next to his head. “Call me that again and you’ll lose an ear.” At that threat, Enid swung her arm back and knocked Wednesday clean off the rafter they shared. Wednesday’s back hit the ground and before she could clamber to her feet, Enid jumped off after her. Enid planted a foot on either side of Wednesday’s torso, and then knelt, pressing one knee into Wednesday’s shoulder joint.

“What did I say about weapons?” she growled.

“Whoa, hey, Enid, she didn’t mean it!” Yoko’s hand landed on Enid’s shoulder and she flinched. Yoko pulled her away into a side-hug. “ Ajax is fine. It was a warning shot between friends, right Wendy?” Yoko’s eyes flared red for a moment as she smiled at Wednesday.

Wednesday grunted and broke eye contact.

Ajax interjected: “Hey, if she could put a fork in it, do you think I could eat this? Having a fork in it makes it food, yeah?” He flicked the fork embedded tongs-deep into the doorframe.

All three girls stared at him.

He smiled back . “ What do you think?” he asked, voice painfully genuine.

“ I think they replaced his brain with snakes…” Enid murmured.

Yoko snorted and rested her head on Enid’s shoulder. No one other than Yoko had touched Enid since they’d been on campus, and it was a constant when she was around. Yoko didn’t appear to be this handsy with anyone else – other than that one siren – and Wednesday wondered if Enid had at some point been just as touchy. She had trouble picturing Enid being touchy-feely in a non-violent way.

Enid’s hand met Yoko’s and gave it a single squeeze. Maybe the theory wasn’t unfounded.

A brunette boy with glasses ran into the room, wheezing. “Is everyone–” He sucked a deep breath in from his inhaler. “–okay? I heard a scream.”

“That was the imbecile beside you,” Wednesday gestured to the gorgon. Ajax froze, tongue moments away from making contact with the doorframe.

“Uh huh,” the newcomer said.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go get some new cutlery.” Wednesday tried to push past the boy.

“Oh, here, use mine.” He held out a fork. “I just came from the dining hall. It’s clean ,” he assured her.

“A pity, my immune system needed the workout.” Wednesday accepted the fork. She paused . It was heavier than her own fork, noticeably so. Was this…?

“Whoa, that’s wicked looking bro. What’d they do to get it so shiny?” Ajax’s attention was diverted from the delicious oak doorframe by the vaguely sparkly object .

“Rowan, keep your own fork ,” Enid stated, and reached past Wednesday to take it.

The moment her hand made contact, she slammed her mouth shut and doubled over.
“Enid?” Yoko asked. She pried Enid’s hand open to reveal a bright red burn. She whirled on her heel. “Rowan is that silver ?”

Rowan raised his hands in surrender and began to defend himself – Wednesday didn’t bother waiting around to listen. She threw the fork towards Yoko and Enid, shouldered Ajax out of the way, and rushed down the hallway.

Principal Weems stood facing away from her at the hallway’s intersection, so Wednesday dashed into the nearest open doorway. A closed courtyard greeted her. Squat rose bushes, a bench, and a garish gold dedication plaque wilted in the shadowy alcove. Wednesday examined the wall surrounding this secluded shady spot.

“Wednesday,” a breathy voice arrived behind her. Silver-f ork-boy leaned on the wall by the entrance. “It’s a dead end; you gotta try somewhere else.”

Wednesday glared at him. She reached under her button down and pulled out the rope wrapped around her waist.

He tilted his head. “You have a rope? Why?” He pulled another breath through his inhaler.

She finished unspooling it, letting the noose at the end rest in her hand. “It never hurts to be prepared. I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity for a good hanging.” Then she tossed the end over and pulled the rope taut. She began to scale the wall.

“That went very well,” the boy said. “I’m Rowan, by the way.” Wednesday felt a tug from behind her . She glanced over her shoulder . Rowan stood and held the rope tight, grinning lopsided at her.

“Let go,” Wednesday said. He didn’t move. “Let go, Rowan.”

“I’m helping you! You oughta be grateful,” Rowan frowned.

“I’d be grateful if there was anything I needed help with in the first place. I am fine on my own.” Wednesday pushed a braid behind her shoulder and pulled herself one step higher.

Rowan sniffed. “Be that way,” he muttered.

There was a beat of silence where – unusually for her – Wednesday felt slightly uncomfortable. “Thank you for the fork,” she amended quietly.

He turned tail and walked away. Wednesday took one more step up. The rope in Wednesday’s hands snapped, sending her sprawling. She managed to hit the dedication plaque sticking out of the ground and grunted on impact. She curled in on her side automatically with a suppressed whine.

A shadow fell over her face. She opened one eye. Enid’s tired frown met her gaze.

Enid reached down and hoisted Wednesday up by the back of her collar.

Wednesday dropped the frayed end of the rope. “Someone left their garbage out, I was merely cleaning up the litter,” she defended mildly.

Enid ground her teeth. “That is the flimsiest–”

“So, Enid,” Yoko popped up next to them and rested her chin on the arm holding Wednesday aloft. Ajax arrived behind her, holding the fork at arm’s length. “I’ve got a first aid kit in my room. Want me to bandage that hand?”

Enid tucked her injured hand into her pocket. “Um, I’ve got it covered, Yoko. Goth Captain Planet and I have to go back to our room.” Enid retreated from the alcove, hoisting Wednesday aloft like a flag.

As they turned the corner, Wednesday could hear Yoko speaking to Ajax: “See what I mean? We have to get her alone.”

Enid only walked faster. When they passed by Weems, their principal opened her mouth, then thought better of it, and continued on with her day.

Wednesday was getting tired of this. It was time to change her strategy.