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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 day ago

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Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 46

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,320ish

Summary: They finally make it to North Dakota.

Warning(s): lots of movie dialogue, canon violence, injuries, talk of suicide

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan’s thoughts were focused on you despite the fact that he was digging a hole for Charles. Charles’ body was still in the bed of the truck. Laura was still holding onto your body in the backseat. Your body that had yet to go up in flames. Every part of Logan’s mind, body, and soul ached. The damage that his duplicate had done to him where barely healing and his cough was worse than it ever had been. But his focus was still you.

There was no doubt in Logan’s mind that you felt the claws enter you and believed it was him. It was a terrible thing. He needed you to come back so that he tell you it wasn’t him. That he would never have hurt you like that.

Laura watched through her sunglasses as Logan dug the hole, wrapped Charles up in the blanket, and then carefully lowered the man down. Logan finished covering Charles up before walking around to the other side of the grave. His limp was worse and his breathing was labored. Laura slipped out of the truck, taking care to not jostle your body too much and walked over to Logan.

“Well…” Logan spoke up. “It’s got water, and…” Logan’s voice cracked, causing him to sigh. Laura quietly came up beside Logan and gently held his wrist. “It’s got water,” his voice broke again.

He exhaled sharply, slamming the shovel down before ripping his wrist out of Laura’s grip. Logan walked over to a nearby tree, leaning against it. He closed his eyes, trying to deal when everything, when Laura screamed. Logan’s eyes snapped open to see Laura rushing towards the truck that was now on fire. Logan raced over and grabbed Laura from behind, pulling her away from the flames. She kicked and screamed as she tried to get out of his hold.

“She’s gonna come back, kid!” He shouted over her screaming. “She’s gonna come back.” Logan fell to his knees, keeping Laura against him. “She’s gonna come back… she’s gonna come back… We just have to wait…” Laura stopped fighting, realizing that Logan was rocking her back and forth, repeating, “she’s gonna come back, she’s gonna come back.”

Laura let Logan hold her as he continued to rock back and forth. Laura watched the fire die down, leaving the truck frame and your ashes. It wasn’t long later when Logan coughed and he fell back, his grip leaving Laura. She turned around to see that he had passed out.

Looking around, Laura noticed a man and his dog, heading to go fishing. She snuck over their and stole the truck, bringing it over to where Logan was. As she got out of the truck, she heard a gasp and more coughing. She rushed over to see you laying in what remained of the back seat of the truck. Laura climbed up so that you could see her.

“Laura,” you rasped, her blurry figure in your vision. “Laura.”

Something felt off about this regeneration. You were more tired and still felt some pain.

“Laura…” you breathed out. “Lo—Logan…”

But then your head lolled back and you were passed out again. Laura found some extra clothes in the stolen truck and dressed you. Then Laura used her strength to place you and then Logan into the bed of the stolen truck. She drove to the nearest town and found a doctor. The doctor quickly took you and Logan back to different rooms. He placed IV’s in both of you before going to take care of Logan’s slow healing wounds.

Laura was told to wait in the lobby, but she made sure to stay close enough to hear what was going on in the rooms you and Logan were in.

~~~

Logan groaned as he came to. His vision was blurry but it didn’t take long for Logan to realize that he was in a doctor’s office. He coughed, signaling to the doctor that he was awake.

“Welcome back,” the doctor said, moving his chair closer to Logan. “I was starting to think I was gonna have to tell that nice little girl out in the waiting room that her daddy’s gone…. I’d always hoped that I’d get the chance to meet someone like you. There’s so few of you left.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Doc,” Logan groaned as he sat up. “But I really got to get on my way.” He broke into a fit of coughs.

“No, no, don’t do that. What you need is rest and treatment. And your wife—“

“My wife?” Logan took an intimidating step towards the doctor. “Where is she?”

“The—the next room.”

Logan threw open the door and rushed into the next room. There you were, breathing and physically there. Logan collapsed into the chair beside the table you were laying on. One of his arms moved to lay across your torso as his other hand moved to your head.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered, voice broken. He didn’t even bother to stop the tears that fell from his eyes onto your cheeks. “It wasn’t me, sweetheart… It wasn’t me.”

Laura walked over from her seat in the waiting room to watch the interaction. The doctor gave her a kind smile before gently shutting the door behind her. She stayed against the wall, not wanting to do anything to mess this up.

“It wasn’t me, baby,” Logan continued to cry.

“Lo—Logan?” You rasped, slowly waking.

“Honey,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t me… I promise, it wasn’t me.”

“The claws…”

“They had a—a copy of me. I don’t know how. He looked like a younger version of me. He… He killed you and—and Charles.”

“No. Charles?” Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Laura? Where’s Laura?”

Her quick feet moved to be on your other side. Laura’s hand took yours, holding it tightly.

“They tried to take her and you,” Logan told you. “I… I almost lost you to them, baby… I almost lost you.”

Your eyes looked over the scars and bleeding wounds, covered in bloody bandages, across Logan’s chest. It broke your heart to see him like this.

“I’m here, Logan,” you whispered. “I’m right here.” You gave Laura’s hand a squeeze, sensing that she was struggling with the events as well.

A knock sounded at the door and the doctor slipped in with Logan’s shirt. “Here,” he handed it over. Logan took it and put it on. “How are you feeling, Mrs.?”

“I’m fine,” you responded, realizing that you were in a doctor’s office.

“We need to go,” Logan said, standing up.

“What you both need is rest, and treatment,” the doctor retorted. “Especially you.” He pointed at Logan.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’re not! I mean, I know that you’re different, but that doesn’t change the fact that something inside you is poisoning you. You got to check yourself into a hospital. Find out what it is! For the sake of your family.”

“I know what it is.”

He slid his arms underneath you and pulled you up into his chest. Laura came to his side, staying close. Laura opened the door, allowing Logan to step into the lobby with you in his arms.

“Please, mister,” the doctor pleaded. “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, maybe I can help you. Maybe I can run some tests.”

“Look, doc, you seem like a nice guy, alright?” Logan responded. “You wanna save a life, save your own. Forget we were here. Let’s go.”

Logan coughed as he carried you outside. He paused, not seeing a familiar vehicle anywhere. Laura walked across the street, towards a small older vehicle.

“Hey!” Logan coughed. “Hey!”

Laura opened the truck door and climbed in to the other side using the bench seat. Logan shook his head before setting you inside. You moved to the middle, still tired. Logan slid in beside you.

“You can’t just take shit, you know,” Logan grumbled. You reached over and laced your fingers through one of his hands. He glanced over at Laura. “I don’t know how you got us here but thank you.”

“De nada,” Laura replied. You looked at Laura with a soft smile.

“Yeah—You can talk?” Laura nodded, looking down. “You can talk?” Laura nodded again, this time turning to face you and Logan. “What the fuck? Why in the fuck—What’s all this bullshit been for the last 2,000 fucking miles?”

“Logan,” you tried, only for Laura to begin yelling in Spanish.

“What? Shut up. Shut the fuck up!”

“Logan,” you scolded. “She’s a child.”

“Jonah, Gideon, Rebecca, Delilah, Rictor,” Laura began stating names.

“What? Laura, who are those people?”

“Jonah, Gideon, Rebecca, Delilah, and Rictor.” She dug into her backpack and pulled out an envelope with an address on it. “North Dakota.”

“What?” Logan questioned.

“North Dakota, por favor.”

“Shit, okay. Look—“ Logan tried to grab the object in Laura’s hands.

“No. Por favor.”

Logan was able to reach over and rip it from her hands. “This place. Okay? Your nurse, she read too many stories, you understand? Too many stories!” Laura got out one of her comic books, which Logan quickly snatched away. “I’ve seen it! I’ve seen it, okay? This all here…” He flipped the pages. “None of this… No existo, okay? You understand me? This Eden does not exist.”

“Si! Eden!”

“No! It’s a fantasy, kid. See that? Those are the names of the people who jus made this,” Logan began coughing, “They made this whole thing up. Okay? This whole—It happened once, and they just turned it into a big, fucking lie!” You could tell that Logan’s words held more than just talking about Eden. “That’s all this is.” Laura began yelling in Spanish again. “No!”

“Okay, we’re done with this,” you spoke up. “Laura, stay here, okay?” She nodded. “Logan, get out of the car.”

“What?”

“Do not question me. Get out of the car.”

Logan coughed as he opened the truck door and stepped out. You followed, shutting the door behind you.

“We cannot take her to North Dakota,” Logan continued. “It’s a long way and I—you—we can’t do it.”

You stood there for a moment, taking in Logan’s appearance. Just since the start of this journey, you felt like he’d aged so much. You sighed, stepping closer and taking his hands.

“Do you trust me?” You asked.

“What?” He questioned. “What type of question is that? Of course I trust you.”

“Laura believes in this Eden and so do I.” Logan scoffed. “There is nothing left, Logan. Nothing and no one but us. We are not safe back at the mansion, besides the memories are too much. Laura deserves to be safe, to be free… I need you to do this for me… I need you to do this for your daughter.”

You watched as Logan’s eyes flickered from you to Laura. His shoulders sagged, admitting defeat by that action alone. He pulled you into him and held you tightly against him.

“I can’t go through that again… any of it,” he whispered. “I won’t… I won’t survive.”

“We make sure that Laura’s okay,” you said, “then we deal with everything else.”

~~~

Logan’s blood loss was causing him to be drowsy, barely awake at the well.

“Logan,” you called his name. “Let me drive.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Pull over. Now.”

Logan sighed, knowing that he couldn’t say no to that tone. You gave his cheek a kiss as he pulled over. Laura climbed into the back of the truck and you slid out of the truck.

“Rest,” Laura urged as you went around to the driver’s side.

Logan moved over before you got into his seat. Unable to control himself, Logan laid down on the bench seat, head in your lap.

“I’ve got you, honey,” you whispered. “Just rest.”

Logan quickly fell asleep as you began driving. Laura watched from the back silently for a few minutes.

“He wants to die,” Laura stated.

“What?” You questioned, glancing back at her through the mirror.

“Charles told me. He wants to die.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“To not let him.”

~~~

Logan woke up to his head still in your lap and you combing through his hair. There was something off though. You were no longer in the car, you were in a small cabin. You were sitting on a bed while Logan was lying down.

“There you are,” you whispered sweetly. “I was getting worried.”

“Y/N?” Logan coughed, looking around. “Where are we?” He noticed a bunch of kids, including Laura, surrounding the two of you.

“Safe. How are you feeling?”

“Uh,” he coughed, “better. How?”

“They have a serum that makes you stronger.”

Logan noticed the bottle on the table beside him and reached for it. “It makes you crazy, is what it does.”

“We didn’t give you too much. Just enough to help some of your wounds heal.”

“Where’s—Where’s Laura?”

“Asleep.” You smiled down at him. “Get some more rest. You’re still tired.”

Logan’s hands came up and pulled you down against him. “Sleep with me… you need rest too… Need to hold you.” Then Logan fell back asleep.

~~~

Logan jolted away from his nightmare, grateful that he didn’t hurt you and that you were still asleep. He looked over to see Laura staring at the two of you.

“You had a nightmare,” she stated quietly.

Logan nodded with a cough. “Do you have nightmares?”

“Si. People hurt me.”

Logan pulled you against him more. “Mine are different… I hurt people.” Laura stepped forward, digging into her pocket and pulling out the adamantium bullet. “You know what it is?” Logan reached a shaky hand over and took the bullet. “It’s made out of adamantium. It’s what they out inside of us. That’s why it can kill us…. It’s what’s killing me now. Anyway, I got this a long time ago, and I kept it as a reminder of what I am… At one point, I was thinking of shooting myself with it. But I can’t do that to her.”

Laura nodded. “I’ve hurt people, too.”

“You’re gonna have to learn to live with that.”

“They were bad people.”

“All the same.”

~~~

Logan drifted in and out for two days. You worried over him but knew that his body needed rest. When Logan finally woke, the many kids were surrounding him, clipping away at parts of his beard. You walked in on them giggling.

“Oh, Logan,” you covered your hand to try to hide a giggle.

They had cut the hair on his chin and upper lip, similar to how he used to shave. Logan pushed up and stumbled to the tiny mirror on the wall.

“Not funny,” he scolded the kids. “This is not funny!”

“It kinda is,” you said.

Seeing you smiling and giggling made Logan relax a little. It felt like it had been eternity since he had seen those.

“How long have I been out?” He wondered, walking over to you.

“Two days,” you replied.

“What? We’ve been sitting here for two days? It’s too dangerous.”

“They’re leaving tomorrow before dawn. They’re gonna cross the border. It’s a safe haven.”

He pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours before slowly kissing you. You melted into him as the kids surrounding the two of you said ‘ew’. That didn’t stop Logan, in fact, he held you closer and kissed you more. When he finally broke the kiss, your eyes were glossy.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, cupping your face.

“I just… I love you,” you whispered.

Logan knew that there was more weighing on you, but wasn’t going to press. This was not the time or place.

“I love you too, honey,” he replied.

~~~

Logan sat inside the cabin and watched you interact with the kids around the fire you had started. Night had fallen and you were not about to let anyone go cold or hungry. Logan watched with growing nostalgia of a previous life at the mansion. His head turned as Laura stepped into the cabin.

“Your friends, they seem nice,” Logan commented. “Kind of reminds me of—“ Laura marched away from Logan. “Hey, hey,” he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him, “what’s going on? Huh?” Laura ripped her arm out of his grip. “You’re with your pals. You made it.”

“Where will you go?” Laura asked. “You and Y/N?”

“Nearest bar, for starters.” Laura rolled her eyes and turned away. “Hey, we got you here. That’s all we signed up for… I even gave back the money.”

“Such a nice man.”

“Hey, I never asked for this! Alright? Charles never asked for this. Caliban never asked for this. And they are six feet under the ground! Y/N could have been added to that! Now, I don’t know what Charles put in your head, but I am not whatever it is you think I am, okay? I only met you, like, a week ago… I am not good at this. It’s better this way. Bad shit happens to people I care about… Y/N… It’s selfish to keep her with me. But she’s the only one who can handle me. You don’t need that kid. You don’t. You understand me?”

“I understand.”

~~~

Logan found you on their look out point, all my yourself. You were staring out into the night sky. He made his presence known as to not sneak up on you before he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back into him. You leaned back further, letting yourself enjoy the small moment of peace.

“You should go with ‘em,” Logan whispered.

“What?” You said, immediately turning gin his arms.

“You should go with them… be free. Make sure that Laura is taken care of.”

You shook your head. “You are crazy to think I’d leave you. Especially to die alone.”

“You don’t need to watch me die, honey. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

“I don’t care. As long as we live, remember? So was that some promise you made a few days ago just to ease your own guilt?”

“Y/N—“

“No! I will not leave you.” His cupped your face to catch the tears falling down your cheeks. “Please don’t ask me to.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… for everything… I wish that I could have been a better husband… that I could have provided for you better.”

“You did what you could, and that’s enough for me.”

He pulled you in for a heated kiss. “I can be more,” he whispered against your lips. “Tonight… let me be more.”

“James… you are already more than enough.”

~~~

Logan woke up in the look out to you on top of him. He kissed your head and carefully moved you off before going to look around. It was eerily quiet. The kids—Laura—were all clearly gone. On one of the tables sat the bottle serum with a note that said ‘not all at once’. Logan sighed, looking from the bottle to you. This bottle could help him and you through his last days.

He walked out to see more of the view when drones sounded from over head. Drones flew over and towards the forest. Movement of dirt caught his eye, making Logan limp towards the binoculars. There at the other end was military grade trucks going through the forest. It was Alkali, going to get the kids. Logan glanced from you to the bottle of serum. You weren’t as fast as him and he couldn’t risk you. Logan grabbed the bottle, the syringe, and knelt beside you.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry… I hope one day you forgive me.” He gave you another kiss before he was rushing towards the forest.

next chapter >

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letorip · 2 months ago

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crimson & clover

“now i don't hardly know her, but i think i could love her"

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x mute!reader

summary: people fear that which they do not understand. it makes sense then, why you and wednesday fall in love and help each other

warnings: erm you killed a lot of people on accident, angsty in the middle there, threats of violence, descriptions of violence

word count: 5.1k

A/N: heavily inspired by black bolt, who i really do think is one of my favourite heroes. there will likely be a part 2 or 3 to this but for rn my attention is on kiss with a fist. THERE WILL ALSO BE A PART [IV] OF SOMETHIN' STUPID

KISS WITH A FIST [IV] WILL BE UP NEXT SUNDAY

===+++===

There were certain things you couldn’t have, when one had the ability to do incredible damage, if they just opened their mouth.

When you did so, on a random Saturday morning at 10 years old, and your house burst apart, it took your parents and a chunk of the neighbourhood with it in a fiery tempest that stabbed you right through the heart. You learned then, that maybe you weren't meant to have a family.

At age 12, when the kids at the Home for Outcast Children strung you up from the monkey bars by your ankles, and you couldn’t hold in a laugh from how the world looked funny when the sky looked like the floor, you learned you weren’t meant to have friends, sitting silently in the dirty crater where the playground used to be with your head tucked into your knees.

You had thought it would be implied then, that you would never have a lover, either. But then again, there was Wednesday Addams.

It was still a mystery, why she chose you. You had assumed she would want nothing to do with you just like she didn’t want anything to do with most people, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The both of you met about a week after she arrived at Nevermore, in the dead of night on one of the walks you always took when everyone else had gone to bed and there was no one to watch you, no one to murmur as you went past. You didn't pose a danger to anyone, then, and it was liberating and also deeply melancholic.

That was when you were most at peace. Your thoughts, even though well-reasoned, could not be expressed. You wrote often, in a leather-bound notebook you’d let no one see, but the power was given to writing through reading it, and there was no one you could have close enough to do so. It made you tired, to be around people you couldn’t communicate with. Few people wanted to wait for you to write something out on a notebook and even fewer wanted to learn sign language.

Kinbott had a dry-erase whiteboard in her office that was just meant for you and the only deaf person in Jericho, though the old man had gone missing a few months ago, without a trace. It was humiliating, at first, and you used to write two-word sentences, curt responses doing the bare minimum, often out of anger— whether it was anger from your situation or anger at being a teenager, you didn’t know— but now you could fill it with paragraphs and kept a notebook for when communication was especially necessary.

That night itself was peaceful, with gentle, twinkling stars that were only lightly polluted by the quad’s towering lamps. You could still see their faint outlines above you, with casting shadows down the lawn from the roof’s spires, and it smelled as if it were going to rain soon.

When you heard the scuttling of something on the floor, you jumped, startled, eyes shooting down to where you were certain you had felt someone’s fingers grip at your leg. Your eyes widened in surprise at the disembodied hand, racing up the uneven cobblestones and then up the leg of someone at the far end of the quad, landing finally on her shoulder.

Wednesday with her arms crossed, looking at you with a comically large bag slung over her shoulder that must've contained all of her belongings, like a runaway in the night.

Oh. That's what she was.

You blankly stared back at her, blinking at her figure. She took a menacing step forward, her grip on the bag tightening. "Are you following me?" she asked, tone icy. When you kept looking at her without so much as opening your mouth, her apathetic eyes narrowed. "If you tell anyone you saw me, they will never find your body. Don't say a word."

It was intended to be a threat, and if it had been anyone else, it probably would've made their blood run ice over just from how cold her gaze was. But you just raised your eyebrows at her, unable to stop the amusement from tugging at the corners of your lips. The irony was very far from lost on you, and the more serious she seemed the more funny the blunder was.

"What?" she snipped. "Is something amusing to you?"

Again, you could not say. You silently shook your head, tilting it then out of curiosity, and gently pointing towards the hand on her shoulder. It sat up at your attention, sending a friendly wave in your direction. Your eyes widened, waving before Wednesday could clear her throat and pull your eyes back up to hers.

Her eyes in question were dark and intense, but beautiful, even under the dim lighting, and you had to swallow what felt like a lump in your throat, in order to regain your composure. "Why are you silent?" she asked, narrowing them at you. You were under her microscope, and she scanned you, looking for anything that would impair your immediate voice.

You raised up a hand as if to say ‘hold on,’ before tugging your notebook out from your overcoat, flipping it open and pulling out your pen. With a click, you were scribbling down on the paper, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes at you again, scanning you in suspicion.

When you were done, you flipped it around, holding it up to her eyes with a gentle smile. 'Trust me, I don't think you'll need to worry about me telling anyone anything, anytime soon.'

Her eyes combed over the words, then glanced back down to you. "Why is—" she opened her mouth out of curiosity, but a heavy door slammed shut down the hall, and she whipped around before she could finish the question.

You both could hear the footsteps coming closer, and Wednesday straightened up, grip tightening on the bag over her shoulder. "You didn't see me, and you won't ever again," she said, coldly.

You nodded, not that you believed she'd make it out. You yourself had tried to run away for the first month and a half, and after long enough, one just gave up. Nevermore was hard to escape; you doubted she had readied a good enough plan in just a few days of being there. Still, you wished her luck. The forest was dangerous, and especially now.

With a final nod in your direction, she hastily walked off, down the corridor the opposite way. You watched her go, calmly sitting near the fountain. A few moments after she disappeared down a different hallway, a very tired looking Weems came down the stairs in her nightgown, holding onto a rusted lantern.

When she saw you, she sighed. "What did I say about those nighttime walks of yours, (Y/n)?"

You smiled, tilting your head to the side and shrugging at her. Weems huffed at your attempt at cluelessness, shaking her head fondly. "Just make sure you get yourself to bed soon, alright?"

You nodded, leaning back on the fountain edge and tracing the grout lines with your thumbs. Weems turned back to the hallway Wednesday went down. "I guess Miss Addams is planning to escape tonight?" But you didn't write anything down, raising your eyebrows at her as if to say 'duh.' Weems adjusted the hem of her nightgown from where it had dragged gently on the steps. "Thank you, (Y/n). I'll see you tomorrow."

She began to follow down the path Wednesday had taken, letting the lantern lead her through the dim corridor, and you silently yawned, picking up your notebook and figuring you had enough adventure for the night.

===+++===

That was your first unofficial meeting, at least. You almost forgot it had happened the following morning, except for when Wednesday showed up in class the next day looking more displeased and unhappy to be there than normal.

It was amusing how frustrated she was, mouth drawn into an annoyed line and eyes looking especially dark. When she caught your eye as she went to take her seat, you averted your gaze back down to your notebook to hide your cheeky smile, resuming your doodle in the margin and running a nervous hand through your hair.

She kept staring throughout the lecture, as if silently daring you to mention her failure, not that you could aloud. You weren’t willing to look back, but you could see her dark eyes shift up and across the round of tables towards you from the corner of your eye, which you made sure to keep on Thornhill.

After long enough, Xavier noticed too. He whispered something to her and then glanced up at you with a look that was far from friendly. He hadn't liked you one bit, but neither did any of the other kids, when they found out. You couldn't exactly blame them, either. The school was full of monsters, but you were a monster among monsters.

"Wednesday, Xavier," Thornhill called out, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry, though. More playful. "Is something more important than our study of carnivorous plants?"

Xavier began to shake his head, starting an apology, but Wednesday cut him off, blankly staring back at Thornhill as it left her mouth. "Yes."

At the challenge, the whole class seemed to let out a comically loud gasp. Thornhill's previously teasing smile dropped to a displeased frown, and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls, motioning to the large glass enclosure on the table behind her. "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is, then?" At the question, you can see Bianca smirk and raise her own hand, eager to steal it away, "I haven't said the name out loud yet, and it will be on your test next—"

"—Dendrophylax lindenii." The interruption came swift from her lips, but Wednesday's eyes are still steeled over and unimpressed by Thornhill's attempt to be put on the spot.

You have to hide your amusement again, at the shocked look on Bianca's face, but she rushes to make up for it by adding something of her own. "It's also known as the Ghost Orchid—”

"—First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1852," Wednesday adds, and once more she's won. Or, she would have. You can't help the shake your head does, or the cheeky smile on your face that Wednesday locks onto, like a heatseeking missile. Her eyes are like daggers, stabbing you through and through. "Is something funny?"

She says it across the entire classroom and everyone goes silent, less focused on the plants now and more the fact that she's acknowledging your presence. You shrug, trying to diffuse the situation, but it only makes her glare at you harder. "No, go on," Wednesday demands, her tone just as icy as she had been the night before. "Tell us, what was so funny?"

"Wednesday," Thornhill warns her, sending you a sympathetic look, but she ignores her and so do you.

"Or are you still at a loss for words," she draws out, and in doing so, the rest of the class fills with 'ooh's and 'woah's. You stare at her for a moment, then silently, your hand goes to your notebook.

The moment you begin writing in it, the classroom tenses again, waiting for you to finish. You make them as big as possible, large enough that she'll be able to clearly read them across the room. When you're done, you flip it around and hold it up like a sign, face blank.

discovered 1854, not 1852

idiot.

You've circled it several times in messy pen, to make sure she really sees. The room roars even louder in surprise, and however bad Wednesday's stare was before, the new one she gives you is infinitely worse. Her face is still deadpan, but her eyes flick away down to her notebook. It’s the only time you’ve seen her approach something resembling embarrassment or fury. You're sure the 'idiot' bit didn't help, but you were far too annoyed by her poking of you to not have poked her right back.

"Well...," Thornhill tries, "It seems the Ghost Orchid isn't the only carnivorous plant in here, today." But the class is too far gone to focus up again, sending you wary glances. They don't like Wednesday, but they like you even less, so it's confusing who they should root for.

You hold her gaze until the bell rings, finally breaking it to gather your things and leave as soon as possible. Her eyes are still on you as you go, and just before you exit the room, you can hear someone mutter "freak," under their breath. You tuck your books under your arm, and duck out into the hall.

===+++===

Fall was always your favourite time of year; for once, Jericho wasn't entirely unbearable. The leaves turned a warm orange and red, falling from the trees in abundant piles on the ground, and the air fermented into something crisp and especially breathable. You let it fill your nose as much as possible.

You sat on the lawn, listening to the birds flit about and the wind brush under the branches and hem of your jumper with a book in your lap and a frown on your face. It wasn't a good book- something the internet had said was incredible but had firmly left a bad taste in your mouth, and part of you wanted to put it down and turn to something more useful. But another part of you wanted to keep reading, like being unable to look away from a car accident.

The book was so engrossing in its awfulness that you didn't notice her watching you from afar or, more so, aiming in your direction. That was, until you turned the page, and her throwing knife whizzed past your ear and lodged itself into the tree you had been sitting against.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the noise, and you turned your head to the side, looking at the shiny, reflective silver. The letters W. A. stared back at you, engraved just below the knife's spine. You frowned, and when you looked back, she was standing over you, arms crossed and expression as deadpan as always.

You raised a questioning eyebrow, looking over at the knife and then back to her as if saying, 'What was that for?'

"Your attention was required," she replied dryly.

You rolled your eyes, dog-eared the page of your book, and placed it down next to you, pulling out your notebook and your pen. You wrote a single word.

dangerous.

"Believe me, if I wanted to hit you, I am entirely capable of aiming to kill," Wednesday said. Then, after a brief look around Nevermore's green, her eyes flicked back down to you. "I'm here on business."

You search her face for a moment, narrowing your eyes. They locked in on the small bandage on her forehead, and you nodded up at it, asking her what happened with the look on your face. Her frown deepened.

"I'm in the process of crushing a bee... and almost getting crushed by a gargoyle." You blinked, but Wednesday continued. "But I won't have to do either if you agree to my request."

It's hard to deny that her words massively pique your interest. Wednesday in general massively piques your interest, and you write down the thing you really want to know.

people say you eat human flesh...

You turn the page back to her, and Wednesday seems to process the words for a moment. She looks over at you, unimpressed by the allegation. "I don't eat it. My menagerie of pets do. And even then, that's nothing close to what Enid's said about you."

You stare up at her, then scribble a couple of words on the paper.

and what's that?

"That you're dangerous. That you’re somehow infinitely worse than I am, which I'm doubtful of," Wednesday says without missing a beat. "Enid won't say anything more, and neither will Xavier." She looks around again, over the green. There's a picnic of sirens by the lake, and a few of the werewolves are playing with a frisbee. She looks back at you. "I've been warned to stay away, and your propensity for being obnoxious has made that task fairly easy so far." You begin to write again.

so why are you here

"Because," she states like it's obvious, "I want to break out of here. And you're somehow the person to have gotten the closest."

and yet

i'm still here

You turn the page to her and jab the bottom bit several times with your pointer finger.

"Well then," she says, "help me succeed."

===+++===

“And how do you think that made you feel?” Kinbott asks, eyeing her various pages of notes to the left of you. Some of the other patients in Kinbott’s care had small, yellow folders, but you had a larger red one, with your name in highlighted block letters on the front. It looked like it should’ve had a top secret sticker in the corner, not that you weren’t appreciative about your records being sealed.

You erased the board, writing a single word.

seen

Then, underneath it.

idk, like i was really there?

Kinbott nodded. “You’ve said people often ignore you a lot. Why do you think that is?”

they’re scared. they think i’ll hurt them because they heard rumours about what i did.

i can’t blame them, really

She frowned, wrapping her hands around her knee. “But that’s not really fair, is it? When was the last time you’ve caused damage with your ability, (Y/n)?”

You shrug, thinking for a moment.

about four years

“And you haven’t made any sort of mistakes, right?”

well, no

“Then why should they be afraid of you?” Kinbott asks. She’s leaning forward, looking at you with her eyes softened. “You’ve trained yourself to silently yawn, you don’t cough, you don’t sneeze, you don’t snore. I think you need to trust yourself a little more, (Y/n).”

You shrug again, but don’t write anything down, so Kinbott sighs and sits back in her chair. “Principal Weems says that she has another little Harry Houdini on her hands?”

You write down Wednesday on your board. She nods. “I’m seeing her in a little while, actually.” It makes your eyebrows raise in surprise.

why?

Kinbott shakes her head. “You know I can’t share that. Therapy is private. It seems she doesn’t plan on staying, though. Wednesday has already tried to escape.”

i know.

she asked me to help her

Her eyes scan over the words and then look back up to you, warily. “You know better than to help her, right? Nevermore could be good for Wednesday. And I thought you were actually starting to like it here.”

You nod.

i already said no

it’s too dangerous, in the woods right now. with the attacks and stuff.

“Good. And please, tell Principal Weems if you learn of any plans in the future.” You nod again, much less committed, and Kinbott looks down at her watch. “I’m afraid our time is over, (Y/n),” she says with a smile. “I’ll see you next week.”

You write a quick thank you down and stand, shoving your socks back into your shoes and tugging on your jumper, tucking it underneath the collar of your shirt and fixing your Nevermore tie. Purple stripes was never your pattern, and Weems had long since given up on trying to make you wear the coat. She figured it probably made you less likely to run away.

Wednesday is sitting in the lobby when you get down the stairs, with a bored-looking Weems come to babysit. You send her a glance, and then give Weems a nod of your head in acknowledgment.

She beams back at you. “Ah, (Y/n). We’re here for Miss Addams’ session. If you want to wander around Jericho, we can take you back to the school when we're done, if you’d like.”

You send another look at Wednesday, whose face is just as deadpan and unhappy as before, and shake your head. You point at yourself and then mime walking with your two fingers. Principal Weems frowns, but gives you and okay, and you turn around to leave.

You can feel Wednesday’s eyes on you as you head for the school. You know she's annoyed by your refusal to help her, but you can't exactly tell her why you're refusing either, especially since you're lacking any evidence for your theory. So you just told her no.

===+++===

Even from deep inside the forest, you can hear the carnival. There's a Ferris wheel towering over the trees in front of you, and circus music blasts from a few speakers so that you can faintly hear it amongst the windy branches, leaves blowing along the ground and caressing your shoes from time to time as you walk through the dark.

You're looking for something, anything, indicating someone would've been there. Sheriff Galpin had found all sorts of hikers, recently, all almost unidentifiable, with how bloodied they were, but they had yet to find anyone with a hearing aid, so you were unsatisfied. It was believed he was on vacation, but you knew the old man went to his therapy appointments every single week. He hadn't missed a single day, so you failed to believe that theory. You didn't even know his name, really.

On a tree not too far from you, there was a claw mark sunk deep into the bark, and you looked towards it, at the pattern. The idea a bear was responsible for all the deaths wasn't exactly convincing, and looking at the claws, your doubts only amplified. You pulled out your camera, aiming it towards the mark, ready to snap a shot, when you heard footsteps pounding past you.

"Rowan!" called a voice behind you, and you froze, putting the camera down and flicking your flashlight off. The last thing you needed was word getting out that you were lurking in the woods. People thought you were scary enough.

But the words weren't directed at you. You listened intently, and then you heard the faint but panicked voice again. "Rowan," Wednesday says again, and the moment you realise it's her voice, you take off running towards it.

You find Rowan with his hand held up, crushing Wednesday against a tree, and before you can stop to think, you're rushing forward, shoving him in the back and pushing him into the dirt, where he struggles to catch his breath. The moment his hand splays out in front of him, Wednesday is dropped to the forest floor. You run to her, checking her over quickly for injuries, making sure she can run. When you find none, you grab her arm, hoisting her to her feet. You send a wary look over at Rowan, who's already trying to right himself and take Wednesday's hand in yours, pulling her deeper into the forest.

It isn't long before you hear him calling out. "Wednesday!" he yells, and you freeze, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her behind a tree. You push her flush against the bark and cover her mouth with your hand, getting as close as possible so that you hide better against the trunk. She seems too scared to comment on the touch, eyes wide and chest heaving from the running. You raise your other hand and press your finger to your lips.

"Wednesday, I'm doing Nevermore a favour," he tries again. "One massive favour. You're dangerous. My mother's seen it. I can see it. Anyone who knows you can see it."

Your eyes flicker to Wednesday's in confusion, processing his words. She's staring up at you, eyes dark and full of worry, begging for him not to find you. Any idea you had about her not getting scared goes out the window. She's just as human as you are. You send her a comforting nod, peeking around the tree trunk. Rowan's a few trees away, with his back turned, scouring the area.

You begin to back away from Wednesday, gesturing over your shoulder. If you both can sneak off and go back to the carnival without Rowan noticing, you can ensure safety. She gives a curt nod, letting you take her hand in yours again. You're faster than her, she knows that. You slowly pull her with you, quietly stepping away and towards the fair.

You only make it a few steps, until Wednesday steps on a branch.

The small twig cracks under her boot, and within an instant, Rowan whips his head around to you both, staring back at him like a pair of deer in headlights. He takes a few menacing steps forward. "There you are," he draws out in between wheezy breaths. His hand comes up, ready to crush her, but before he can use his ability, a large, hulking creature grabs him by the leg, whipping him around and down onto the ground.

You and Wednesday watch in horror as Rowan screams, and the creature rears up on its hind legs, coming down and smashing Rowan with its fists. You can hear the crunching of his bones and then the tearing of flesh as the creature's claws dig into the boy's skin. Wednesday's hand is still in yours, and she squeezes it harshly, small black fingernails digging into the back of your hand, pulling you down to the ground with her and then scooting back.

The attack is short but brutal, and you see bits of Rowan's chest go flying and pure red maw. The creature whips around to you when Rowan goes silent, staring at Wednesday with intensity in its big eyes. Then it scrambles off, tearing through the woods and into the darkness.

As soon as it's gone, Wednesday rushes forward in the leaves, going to Rowan's side. You clamber to your feet, watching the direction the creature went with wide eyes. When you turn back to Wednesday, you catch her shoving something in her pocket. You don't ask what it is, but you make a mental note to ask later.

"Please," she says, a bit panicked. Her fingers are coated in Rowan's blood. "Go get Weems."

===+++===

Another not-too-awful thing about Nevermore was the breakfast. You sat at an abandoned picnic table in the corner of the quad, finishing your eggs, when Wednesday slammed her hands down on the wood with a loud thunk. You jumped in your seat, startled by the noise, dropping your egg back onto your plate.

"What exactly did you see last night?" she demanded, glaring.

Your eyes widened at her tone. It was harsher than normal, and she wore her frustration on her sleeve. A few students at nearby tables sent you suspicious and wary glances. Over Wednesday's shoulder, you could see her roommate, Enid, staring at you.

Most important was Weems, who looked down at you from the balcony above. You composed yourself and looked back down to Wednesday, shrugging nonchalantly, as if to say you didn't know.

Wednesday gritted her teeth harder. "But you do know. We saw Rowan get eviscerated by that creature. You were there. So why did you tell Weems you didn't see anything?!"

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head at her, doubling down. This was no place to get into it. No place to tell the truth. You slid your notebook towards her.

i saw him this morning.

She huffed, stomping off. You knew exactly why you saw him that morning, actually. Weems had shown you her powers a time or two, and you knew that 'Rowan' was just her in disguise. But you also didn't know if it was something you wanted to share yet. You, too, had been a bit miffed at seeing Weems pretend to be Rowan, but you also knew Weems' powers gave her an advantage, and you were too loyal to take that away from her. You owed her too much.

The question of why still rang in your mind, though. Why was she so eager to cover it up? She had never at least lied to you, so this lie seemed out of left field.

You saw the fake Rowan several times throughout the day. Each time you did your best to let Weems know you knew, and she seemed wary of you, avoiding you at every intersection. You spent the night thinking, wandering around Nevermore, stopping in the library and pulling out several books.

Wednesday had shoved something in her pocket, something that Rowan had. Something about her dooming Nevermore, about being dangerous. You raked through all the books about prophecies, not finding anything of interest and giving up at around one in the morning. No books were missing a piece of paper, and no books mentioned Wednesday's name. You could find a few references to someone named Goody, but she seemed unimportant among the other Addams ancestors, having been dead for hundreds of years. You made another mental bookmark to look more into it, later.

You trudged back to your dorm, already regretting your choices, considering you had an 8 am class in the morning. The school was peaceful again, and as you climbed the stairs, you could hear the trickle of the fountain.

But the moment your shoe placed itself upon the landing, you froze. Your door hung open slightly, just cracked, and right in the way was the same hand you had seen on your first night. You straightened up, feeling more awake, and more annoyed, now.

You pushed your own door open, knocking loudly on the wood like it wasn't your own room, illustrating your frustration. Wednesday turned towards you, unimpressed. She had your journal in her hands, the other one not meant for your communication but for your theories.

It was open to the photo you had just taken, of the claw mark. Right above it you had put the photo of the deaf old man, and right on the photo of the claw mark, you had 'Rowan' written in red sharpie and underlined several times.

You crossed your arms, glowering at her. The hand scuttled towards her, stopping halfway. "So you were hiding something," Wednesday says. "You know that Rowan isn't Rowan. You know he's dead."

You silently swallow, crossing the room until you are right in front of her. Wednesday's eye contact is intense, and you look down at your own notebook, feeling her watching you as you take it from her hands. You can feel her breath fanning against your face, and she smells like pomegranate and fresh petrichor. You turn the page to the drawing you've made of the creature. It's a little off; some of the details are fuzzy regarding last night. But it's the creature as best as you can remember it, and Wednesday nods.

"That's what I saw, too. That's what I want to find," she says. "That's what you're going to help me find."

This time, you can't find it in yourself to refuse.

===+++===

this was the first episode and a bit of episode 2. i really liked doing the mute reader but boy is it hard to write communication without dialogue. it does so much heavy lifting for characterisation. can't wait to see where this one goes, and it'll probably take me two or three parts to get through the whole season, is my hope.

#letorip #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you

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