Chapter Text
You make me smile
Fall out of bed, sing like a bird
Dizzy in my head, spin like a record
Crazy on a Sunday night
You make me dance like a fool
Forget how to breathe
Shine like gold, buzz like a bee
Just the thought of you can drive me wild
Oh, you make me smile
Mr. Addams knows several things about his daughter.
At five years old she has an intelligence that surpasses that of her own companions. Even that of many of the adults Gómez works with.
She's clever, spoiled, and tends to get away with it.
She's naughty, passionate about activities that get her attention, a ball of walking energy, and an emotional child, too emotional at rare times.
But what Gómez’s sure she isn't, is a bully, abuser or aggressor. As they call it these days.
She can be mean. But at her young age, she's learned not to make fun of others' shortcomings or flaws, especially when her family has a strong foundation of respect for quirks and oddities.
So when Director’s office, of the Institute that his daughter attends calls to arrange a meeting, Gómez is slightly puzzled.
Especially because they mention that Wednesday Addams, is a bully.
She hurt another child during a class.
An event that hadn't happened in a long time. Not since her classmates learned how dangerous it was to mess with an Addams.
The school has its policy, which is why it's unacceptable.
"Mr. and Mrs. Addams, thank you for coming with so little notice," a voice greeted at the door.
Gómez and Morticia turn their heads to observe a thirty-five-year-old woman, with gold hair in a tailored uniform. It’s Mrs. Evans, the director of the Institution.
Who kindly comes to shake hands with both parents, then crosses the room to sit in the chair on the other side of the mahogany desk.
It's Morticia Addams who starts. "We would like to know why you’ve called us here."
The Director nods her head. Her hands align perfectly with the papers on her desk. "Well, actually, we’ve had problems with Wednesday."
"What kind of problems?" Again it's Mrs.Addams who speaks.
The Director's lips form a thin line. "Of aggression."
"Of aggression." Gómez Addams repeats with skepticism, throwing a confused look at his wife. They’ve never raised their child to be violent. At least not at school. At home, they're open enough to let their little girl explore her abilities.
"Yes," Mrs. Evans confirms. "Wednesday has hurt one of her companions."
At this, Morticia and Gómez raise their eyebrows.
Wednesday, with her young age, has learned to deduce her companions naturally; can hurt their feelings with her harsh words. But it's a fact that this only happens when she's threatened, mocked by others. It's a defense mechanism.
A mechanism in defense of her early intelligence.
Morticia immediately jumps to her daughter's defense, saying. "Clearly, this is a mistake!; I'm sure this child must have provoked my daughter in some way."
"Oh no. Miss Mills, Wednesday's teacher, witnessed the whole incident," the principal assures her.
"What did Wednesday say?" Gómez asks.
"She refused to say a word about the incident."
Gómez says something unintelligible, moving his head vigorously. Morticia intervenes before her husband speaks again. "Since this is the first time this type of incident has happened, we ask that you not be so rigorous with your punishment," She continues after a pause. "I assure you that we will take care of imposing just punishment for our daughter...”
"Actually, it's the third time it’s happened," Mrs. Evans interrupts while watching Morticia closely. "Ms. Mills spoke with Wednesday on the first two occasions, when the incidents occured."
Morticia opens her mouth in amazement.
"However, given that the situation persists, I decided to call you in. Our Institution is recognized by its anti-abuse policy, so we do not tolerate this type of behavior."
"And what, specifically, did Wednesday do?" it's Gómez who asks. "Did she hit the boy?"
Morticia anxiously awaits her response. Mrs. Evans doesn't make them wait long.
"She pulled her hair, destroying her hairstyle. It's the second time she’s pushed her companion...”
But she doesn't manage to finish.
"Her companion’, are we talking about a girl?" Gómez huffs even more incredulously.
Even stranger. Her daughter only has one known male friend; otherwise, she stays away from the girls as much as possible. She complains about their hairstyles, smell, and voice as much as she can.
Mrs. Evans nods. "Enid Sinclair, known as Eni by all her classmates."
Morticia frowns. "I hadn't heard of her; Is she a new girl?"
"She is. It's her third week.”
After considering her answer for a few seconds, Morticia says "How do we know that it isn't she who incites this behavior in my daughter?"
Mrs. Evans sighs. She runs her hands through her perfectly combed hair.
"I have had the pleasure of talking with her several times. She's a very intelligent girl; I would call her brilliant," she pauses. "She moved from Chicago with her father two months ago, after her mother lost the battle she faced against cancer for three years." Her lips form a grimace. "This has made her shy and introverted, especially frail, so no, Mrs.Addams, it wasn't she who incited your daughter's behavior, especially since at no time did they speak."
Gómez's face falls momentarily. Morticia finds herself speechless, and allows herself to agree.
"Wednesday will be suspended for three days. I suggest that you talk to her in detail."
The legs of the girl with beautiful eyes bounce uncontrollably. One of her hands repeatedly touches her knee, while the other runs nervously through her black hair. She knows she’ll be in trouble.
In a lot of trouble, when her parents come home.
Nervously, she remembers.
Wednesday Addams stood up with a confident movement of her chair. There's confident on her face as she moved to the blackboard.
Ms. Mills took a step away, letting her sees the problem on the board.
<An addition. Too easy!> she said to herself. Mathematics is her forte, she's used to solving complex equations with her mother, so a small problem of a single figure is a piece of cake for her.
She took the chalk between her fingers.
And that was when Enid Sinclair decided to appear. "Sorry I'm late, Miss Mills." Her voice was a soft whisper from the door.
Her gaze rested on the ground while she moved her hands nervously. Her dress is white with little bees on it. Her gold hair is collected into two pigtails with matching bees, as well.
Wednesday's eyes get got bigger when the little girl looked up, being hypnotized; She’d never seen someone as cute as Enid before. Her blue eyes shione, she had a nervous smile and rosy cheeks. Her fists gripped the straps of her backpack.
Wednesday swallowed, trying to keep the chalk in her hands. When her eyes landed on Enid cheeks, her own face became hot.
Miss Mills said something, but Wednesday can't remember what. Her mind is blank. She doesn't know why, either.
Then Enid tilted her head and smiled. Wednesday's cheeks reddened even more.
The sound of the scoreboard against the ground and the laughter around her brought her back to reality.
She looked at her companions, at Enid, at the teacher and finally at the blackboard.
Suddenly Wednesday started to panic. The problem, she’s done it wrong.
"Ooohhh! The rare genius was wrong!" One of her companions made fun.
"For looking at Enid."
Wednesday almost ignored the comment, but then Enid's eyes turned sad, approaching her.
The laughter, and teasing continued. Wednesday looked at everyone equally. When the little hand of the blonde girl touched Wednesday's shoulder, her ears redaughterated, her heart beat fast and her face felt even hotter.
She hated her, hated her smile, her bee dress and her sad look.
Enid was about to touch her again, when Wednesday pushed her to the ground. "Don't touch me!" she yelled at her.
"Ohhh!" resounds in the room.
Wednesday's eyes opened wider when she saw the girl fall with her eyes full of tears.
Her smile faded when Wednesday stopped looking at her.
That was how she ended up in the director's office.
Morticia and Gómez find her sitting in the living room, playing casually with her hands.
"Are you well, Darling?" asks her mother with concern as Gómez drags a chair over and sits on it.
She responds quickly. "I'm fine, Mother."
Morticia hums without deciding whether to believe her or not. "You want to tell me what happened?"
Wednesday raises her hands, rejecting the question.
But she isn't having any of that. If Wednesday doesn't want to talk, she doesn't care. She wants explanations, and she wants them now.
"What did you do?; Why did you behave that way?" Her voice is hard. Gómez grimaces.
Wednesday doesn’t say a word. Her fingers drum on her pants.
It's Gómez who tries again. He almost smiles, reminding Wednesday of the routine of the good cop, bad cop, on that TV show that her father likes. "You’ll be punished for three days, mi querida niña. That doesn't only apply to school, but here, as well. Zero games, TV, and visits. Cero experiments at home, visits to the cemetery, any mischief your mind can conjure up is prohibited.You will remain locked in your room...”
Wednesday frowns. "Even if it's her fault?"
She doesn't say it, but Morticia knows she means Enid.
"What?"
She raises her eyebrows in a childish pout when she says. "Her fault."
"Why is that, mi niña preciosa?" Gómez inquires.
Wednesday looks at him carefully, then whispers. "I can't think."
Her mother sits next to her on the couch, gently taking her hands. "Why is that, darling?"
"In the playground when she stops and looks at me.," Wednesday begins. "I can't think." She pouts again. "I can't think of anything else."
Her mother smiles knowingly. Gómez's face has endless emotions written all over it.
"So you pushed her," her father concludes.
Wednesday almost looks embarrassed, but nods anyway.
That explains the situation. Her daughter, her little storm cloud, has a crush.
Oh! Not just any crush. Her first crush.
She’s so enchanted with the new girl that her brain is unable to stop to speak, so Wednesday doesn't react to it.
So she does what is the easiest to do, reject the unknown.
The Addams curse has come about very quickly this time.
Morticia smiles while Gómez's voice continues with the interrogation. "You pulled her hair, damaging her hairstyle. Why, cariño?"
Wednesday snorts. "James Robert and his friends make fun of her because of her pigtails," she complains, visibly upset. "I'm doing her a favor!" she assures, without losing her excuse.
"Of course!" her father makes fun.
"What about the ties?"
Wednesday sighs, frowns and glances at her father, who keeps an interrogative frown at her wife's words, clearly missing something.
"She carries them all the time." Her voice is low. "Those ugly ties of colors. When the sun passes through them, the reflection falls on my notebook, making a rainbow.”
"It's not pretty?" Gómez inquires with curiosity.
"No," she says under her breath with a shrug. "It distracts me and doesn't let me think, so I took them off her."
"Wednesday!"
"She’s in front of me in all classes." She excuses herself quickly.
Morticia doesn't buy it. There is something else her daughter isn't saying. She lets go of her hands and crosses her arms. Giving her what both father and daughter describe as <The look>.
Wednesday sighs in defeat. "Her hair is pretty… when it’s loose." Her face warms at the admission. "It smells like flowers. I like it." Again she is ashamed.
Morticia smiles broadly.
Gómez rolls his eyes, but after a few seconds he also smiles.
Two incidents down, one incident remains to be told. "What happened this time?"
"I hate her," she declares quickly, changing the environment. Morticia turns to her with her eyes open wide. Wow!
"She distracted me again, she made me make a mistake.," she complains, crossing her arms.
Her father gives her another curious look. Although her daughter has an intelligence that exceeds the average, it is known that she doesn't tend to get easily distracted, at least with respect to the numbers and activities in which she focuses deeply.
He encourages Wednesday to continue.
"I was at the blackboard doing a maths exercise, in Miss Mills's class...” her lip trembles." “But Enid spoke, and... and... she was wearing that horrible bee dress." Her lips move from one side to another. "I got distracted," she manages to say. "I did the exercise badly. Everyone made fun of me. "
Gómez gives her a serious look.
"I pushed her again," she confesses, lowering her head. Her heart tightens when she remembers the tearful eyes of the little blonde girl.
Her mother tenderly raises her face with her hands. Kisses both cheeks and smiles. "What do you think, if instead of pushing her when she smiles at you, you smile at her in return?"
The little black hair girl thinks for a moment.
Her eyebrows are knitted together. She isn't convinced by what Gómez adds. "She wouldn't be able to think either. You would balance things out in some way."
Her eyes open with surprise.
"And instead of pulling her hair, you could kindly ask her to leave it loose, at least when she sits in front of you," adds Morticia.
"That would do!" Wednesday declares triumphantly.
Morticia hugs her, telling her how much she loves her, and scolds her too sweetly, if you ask Gómez, about her treatment of Enid. She assures her that she must apologize to her, at which Wednesday reluctantly agrees to kiss her mother's cheek and embrace her again.
When she walks away, leaving them alone in the room, Gómez sighs. "You realize that our daughter is a little caveman."
Morticia laughs. "Then it's better not to mention how you pulled my hair when we studied together." Her husband lets out a laugh.
He's ashamed of the memory of their school days. He, approaches and kisses her with affection.
"It must be a thing. A family thing."
Wednesday runs to her room.
Take a breath to be brave and allow the color to invade her room, even if it gives her allergies.
Colored papers flicker in the wind as the little girl’s eyes fall heavily on one. A pink paper, like the color of the dress Enid wears.
I'm sorry.
I didn't want to push you.
I didn't want to pull your hair.
Wednesday Addams.
PS: I like your hair.
Lurch writes it down, with a grin at the child’s words.
Attached to the letter is a drawing of a smiling blonde girl with a dress of bees and another child taking her hand. Made by Wednesday.
Thing doesn't say anything, just smiles moving his fingers at the gesture.
Weeks later
It happens almost immediately, Morticia can realize it.
Wednesday smiles.
Which would be considered a sign that the world is in trouble, if it didn't make Morticia feel so happy.
She speaks of the blonde constantly.
She's in essence much happier, so when the little girl breaks into her kitchen crying, Morticia worries automatically.
"It hurts," says the little girl.
Morticia turns around quickly, dropping the kitchen towel on the table.
Her eyes widen in horror. Her daughter is unable to express pain, not even the slightest discomfort with the past.
"It hurts a lot, Mother." Her voice seems broken, as if she’s lost something very dear to her. Morticia's heart shrinks when she hears her voice all choked up.
Morticia goes to her carefully. "Mi niña." Her eyes fill with concern as she sees her daughter's face, completely red.
She doesn't respond, and instead, pushes herself backward. Her face flushes as it transforms into the most painful expression of hurt that Morticia has ever seen in a child.
"What hurts, mi niña?" she asks in anguish, looking over her body for possible injuries that could cause her pain.
Her lip trembles slightly twice before she is able to respond. More tears cascade from her eyes. "My heart, Mother. It hurts a lot."
Morticia goes from panic to terror in a second with that statement.
However, she tells herself that she must calm down so she can help her daughter.
She was on the phone to call the family doctor when her daughter speaks again.
"James said it." She doesn't understand.
Wednesday fights against the tears that run down her face.
"What, who told you that, mi niña querida?" Morticia asks softly as she caresses her back slowly with small soothing circles. Her eyes are as red as her face, full of tears shed, her lips forming a straight line.
She's completely upset. Morticia can see that now.
It's a reaction that she hasn't had the opportunity to witness for some time. Not since she was two years old.
Her daughter is spoiled, and she likes to get away with it many times, if not all, but she has never witnessed this level of anguish before.
It's disconcerting.
"Joel and Enid are getting married."
Understanding takes over Morticia's face.
Her daughter adores Joel; he’s been her only friend from the moment they moved to the city. Her accomplice, and her companion of adventures, it's natural that the little girl feels jealousy, even feels displaced or hurt before the hypothetical loss of her friend.
"You won’t lose Joel." She hugs her against her chest, feeling her tense at her touch. "He will always be your friend, even if he marries Enid," she says in a reassuring voice.
"But I don't want them to get married!" she lets out between sobs. Tears continue to run freely, soaking her shirt in the process.
"I don't think that will happen for many years, mi niña."
"But I don't want it, Mother, it hurts." Her little daughter sobs uncontrollably.
She rushes calm her down, whispers reassuring words, while kissing her hair again and again.
That seems to do the trick. "Darling, it's okay, breathe baby!" she says with sweetness. "Look at me." She kisses her forehead and she gives her a watery smile. "You will be friends for a long time. I am completely sure that you will continue to be, even if they do get married," Morticia affirms her in a calm voice, slowly. "You don't have to feel sad."
Wednesday gives her a cold look. Her lip forms an angry pout. Her arms cross over her chest. She won’t cry again; she's safe.
"But I want Enid to marry me!"
"Oh!".
The understanding slams into Morticia like a bucket of cold water.
Good.
That's another thing.
"Mi niña querida, it's a long time before that can happen. It's a decision that two adults make, and it's something that Enid must think pretty hard about, too," she pauses. "Years for that," she insists.
Wednesday grimaces. Her mother chuckles.
"Mother?" Her quieter voice calls her.
"Yes, darling?"
"So Enid isn't going to marry Joel today?" she asks with her eyes lit.
Morticia shakes her head.
Her bright eyes widen, her whole body stiffens and her mouth forms an 'o'. After thinking about it, she speaks hopefully. "I still have my chance."
Morticia laughs, nodding.
"You still have it, my little caveman of love."
This time, the note written by Lurch is on a yellow paper, (like the color of the bees on her clothes) closely supervised by thing. Who complains about his writing every five minutes.
Enid, don't marry Joel.
It’s a long time before that can happen, and it's a decision that only adults take.
It's something that you must think about pretty hard.
Wednesday Addams
PS: I still like your hair a lot.
Like you dressed as bees and your pigtails.
If Morticia goes through her room, she will find a love letter for a five-year-old girl with the words she recited to her daughter.
Morticia says nothing, only allows herself to smile at the gesture.