#wednesday and fae being protective over each other 🥹

[dawnoftime22]

oh my god.

everything about this, I don't even think I have the words to express just how amazing this story is.

Henry looks surprised.

"Amateurs," Wednesday huffs.

I love how Wednesday just guessed everything about him like she was watching a movie LMAO

But also the fact that she keeps mentioning about how he's just another idiot who has mommy issues almost made me laugh so hard right when it's near midnight. Tears almost came out of my eyes because I didn't wanna wake up everyone too 😭

"Don't die," Wednesday quietly commands.

"Ever. Especially without me."

You smile, and it brushes against Wednesday's lip.

"Are you threatening me with a good time again?" you murmur. "But okay, only because you have such a way with words."

this part was so cute and endearing AUGH it's making me cry. and the parallel of the smile brushing against Wednesday's lip is just so memorable.

I'm so glad both of them are safe <3

Suddenly, Enid burst through the room. Well, first, it was a bee, and then Enid.

"We're here! I'm going to wolf out and beat that motherfuc-oh, you guys already won."

I was hoping Enid and her group would have come to save the day everytime Wednesday gets hurt, but then Fae woke up and all that happened, and it was honestly awesome. Wednesday on the other hand being absolutely enthralled by her tho lmfao I don't blame her

"There you are, Thing," Wednesday says. "Let's see if your scalpel skills improved."

...I wonder what body part they'll be taking. Or what they're cutting out. His heart? Wednesday did say she wasn't going to kill him and she'd definitely get in trouble too.

Perhaps his eyes or skin. 👀 Okay, that's a bit over the line though, isn't it

—AMBEDO | NINE

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been taken from right under Wednesday's nose. Finding you is a given, but it's really a question of who is saving whom. Wednesday shouldn't be surprised that she's complete entranced by the sight of a fallen faerie.

Warnings: canon level violence. long villain monologues. Enid & gang doing their best.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: just two killer gfs 🫶 also i can't believe the next chapter is the last one 😳

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Part Eight

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Ambedo: Noun. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.

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Wednesday touches item after item in your studio. She holds whatever Thing passes her and tosses it when nothing happens. Wednesday knows she can't force a vision, but that doesn't stop her from trying. Her hands run along the ground, trees, and furniture. 

Something—anything in this forsaken room should give her a clue as to what happened to you or where she could find you. 

"Wednesday?"

The voice was quiet, timid even. 

Wednesday doesn't need to turn to know who it is. She grabs one of your books, gripping it with force, willing a vision to happen. When it doesn't, Wednesday tosses it aside. "What is it, Enid?" She asks, her voice flat but frustration laced around her tone. 

"I've got everyone spread out and looking around," Enid updates. "I texted Ajax, and he's got some of his friends out searching too."

Wednesday merely nods tersely. 

"I'm going with Yoko to search, but I just wanted to tell you something before I left," Enid bit her lip. 

Wednesday turns, her eyes boring into Enid's with a dark intensity that her roommate is both used to and still finds unsettling. "Go on."

"I—" Enid sighs lightly. "I didn't want to say this in front of everyone else in case I was wrong, but I'm pretty sure now. I can smell someone else in here. The scent is stale like yours and Fae's, but it's a little stronger, more recent."

"Who else was in here, Enid?" Wednesday demands immediately. While certain people knew you had a studio, no one except Wednesday knew where it was. 

"Um," Enid murmurs, her brows furrowing. "That guy—the one who's always around Fae. Yoko said his father is an alumnus here. Harry?"

"Henry," Wednesday seethes, her eyes flashing and jaw clenched.

"Yes, him!" Enid exclaims. "Yoko and I are going to see if we can find him, but if we can't..." The words drag, but Wednesday already knows the truth of it. 

If they couldn't find Henry, then they'd found their culprit. 

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Enid: can't find him.

Enid: roommate says he hasn't seen him at all today and said he's been barely in his room. He usually apparently only returns around 1 to 2am lately.

Enid: I'm gonna search around in my wolf form with yoko. She'll text u with my phone with any updates.

Enid: also the black fuzzy blanket you had earlier in our room is gone. Did you take it?

Wednesday doesn't reply and clicks her phone to turn off the screen before putting it back into her pocket. 

1 to 2AM was when the two of you finished your nightly meet-up.

Wednesday definitely didn't move the blanket. Her eyes look back to the blanket in question. She recalls you telling her that Henry was a psychic who could create things. And based on what she's deduced so far, he could materialize his mindscapes into reality, but it seems that anything taken out of his mindscape couldn't last for prolonged hours if he wasn't focusing on it. 

Wednesday has touched everything inside this studio, and nothing has conjured a vision. It leads her to believe that you weren't taken in your studio. She exits and begins to look around. 

The first thing she noticed now that she was not blinded with rage and panic when she first searched for you was one of the tree trunks partially rotten. It was hard to tell with it being so dark, but Wednesday could spot the strange shape of the rot. She walks over to it and finds a single black feather resting on the ground directly underneath. 

Wednesday bends down to grab the quill of the feather, and the live wire shredding at her skin comes forth.

Wednesday sees you walking out of your studio. The day has rewound, and the sun is only starting to set. 

You look happy, with a serene smile and a single feather in your hand. But only after a few steps out do you tilt your head and refuse to take a step further.

Wednesday can hear it from your perspective. The way the wind oddly ruffles the leaves. There's a certain discomfort in her spine. 

"Who's out there?" Wednesday watches you call out and place the hand on the tree trunk. "You can't hide from me in the forest and whatever trap you've set, I can sense it."

There's a moment of tense silence, but you refuse to budge. 

A twig snaps as someone moves behind a tree. 

Henry steps out, and you relax slightly but keep her hand on the trunk.

"Henry," you look confused. "Why are you following me?"

"Well, this is annoying," Henry sighs. "You didn't notice the mindscape of your studio, but now you won't step into the new one I made? I wonder if it's because Wednesday's energy is so intertwined with the studio one I made. You lower your guard down so much when she's around," he hums. 

You look wary. "What do you want?"

"I want you to follow me," Henry smiles, but his eyes are hidden, and you can't determine his full expression. "Quietly."

"What are you talking about?" You frown at him. 

"Your wings," Henry says in a cavalier tone. "I need your wings. So, I need you to come with me to Crackstone's crypt so I can perform the ritual there. I still have some things to prep, but if you go to meet with Wednesday for your date, I'll miss my chance and the sap wont be potent anymore."

As you step back, you narrow your eyes at him, full-on in defensive mode. You're opening your mouth to say something, but Henry pulls out a small blowgun and shoots a needle that lands right into your neck. 

You stagger, hand at your neck to pull out the needle, and you instantly know it's made out of draeconium. You slump to your knees first before falling onto your front completely, groaning. 

Henry approaches with a syringe filled with a cobalt teal liquid. He steals you away, and all that's left is your feather and the rot you placed in the trunk.

Wednesday returns to reality, her hand on the trunk and the grip of your feather in her other hand. She pulls out her phone, typing a quick message to Enid before she takes off.

Wednesday: Meet me at Crackstone's crypt. 

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The room was dimly lit by candles. Where Crackstone's crypt used to be now stood a giant rectangle stone table. There were inscriptions carved into the table, and Wednesday knew immediately that it was a ritual for your wings.

Wednesday's eyes lay upon your limp form lying in the middle of the table. There was a chained collar around your neck bolted to the table. It was only long enough to likely let you sit up, but no further than that. She can see your body rising and falling with each breath, and there's a sense of relief. She's about to walk to you and wake you up when someone steps out of the shadows.

"I didn't think you'd actually find us."

That lanky, stuttering boy. Except he wasn't stuttering now. Wednesday's uncontrollable rage simmers inside her, but she tempers it. She needs to be rational if she wants to save you. 

Henry's long fringe normally covers his eyes, but tonight, they're pushed out of his face, combed stylishly over his head. It was no wonder that he covered his eyes, Wednesday thought. They would draw too much attention with their pale silvery glassy look. His eyes lacked pupils, but Wednesday was sure they were why he had such powers. 

"Of course, I'd find you," Wednesday sneers at him. "Only a moron would come back to Crackstone's crypt. How unoriginal."

Henry smiles at her, and it's utterly disgusting. "I suppose after your glory stories of last year, I expected you would and that you'd come here stupidly alone."

"I don't need a group to make you wish you were never born," Wednesday's face was stoic. "What exactly can you do? Your little tricks won't work on me now that I know what you can create. It's not real."

Wednesday takes a step closer, but Henry pulls out a knife. The blade was a pale pearl white with ridges, and the handle was made from wood. There was no doubt it was made from draeconium.

"Move any closer, and I'll plunge this right into her," Henry threatens. "I only need her alive, she doesn't need to be unharmed."

There's a moment that Wednesday hesitates, thinking about her chances. She has a knife in her own boot that she could use to cut his throat. But Wednesday eventually decides against it as she doesn't know where he might stab you and if it'll accidentally be fatal. He looks like an idiot.

Wednesday's eyes trail to you. Even though you're unconscious, your wings are slowly appearing from your back, unfurling slowly, and you haven't moved one bit. She eyes the chain in detest and wills you to wake up to no avail.

"I know her wings are injured, but I'm pretty cautious," Henry sighs but doesn't relax his form as he turns to point the knife at her. "I can't risk her potentially flying."

"What did you do to her?" Wednesday demands, her stance tense as she keeps a distance from the boy. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"She won't," Henry shakes her head. "I know she's told you about how draeconium sap can cut her wings out, but they can do so, so much more."

"Makes me wonder why she didn't tell you. Maybe she doesn't trust you as much as you think." Henry smirks at her. "Draeconium petals can be crushed into a powder and mixed into a liquid that will put faeries to deep sleep. It's poisonous and makes their body numb and unable to control their movements."

That would explain why your wings were coming out.

"How did you find out where we were?" Henry narrows his eyes at her. "I hear you're a witch, but I have yet to see you do anything amazing. If anything, you're insufferable."

"Thank you."

"You're always hanging around her, hovering like a goddamn vulture," Henry huffs. 

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Wednesday raises her brow. 

Henry rolls his eyes. "I thought for sure her fae abilities would catch me following her around. At first, I couldn't get too close without her constantly turning around and nearly catching me. Before you started to get closer to her, I was trying to figure out for weeks where she was going every single day and night."

Henry smiles lightly at her. "The night you followed her after the siren's party, she heard both you and I were following her. But for some reason, she dismissed it and kept going. Your presence has always masked mine perfectly."

Then he smiles haughtily at her, his eyes filled with malice. "Thank you, Wednesday. Because of you, I was able to get closer to Fae without her noticing. And since then, the two of you haven't even noticed you've been in and out of my mindscapes for months."

Wednesday thinks back to the night she first followed you to your studio. You had turned around, and Wednesday thought it was her, but it was probably Henry you'd sensed. But her presence distracted you, and you kept going. 

She thinks back to Parents' Day and how she couldn't find you anywhere. She had gone to her room first to change before looking. Yet, you told her you'd been in her room waiting for half an hour.

Wednesday recalls the time you came to meet her, saying you just came from seeing Henry, but he couldn't conjure anything. But he had, and you just couldn't tell you were already experiencing it.

Wednesday thinks back to the day before the Poe Cup Race and how the three of you had been standing in the hallway. She had heard footsteps, but when she turned around, it was just Henry sitting at one of the arches. Those footsteps were probably from the outside of the mindscape. 

Wednesday grinds her teeth, keeping her mouth shut as she looks around the room for anything she can use. Her phone is in her pocket, and she can tell Enid has likely been sending her messages incessantly by the sporadic vibrations. Wednesday hopes that Enid will call her so she can try to pick it up, keeping it open in her pocket before she starts spouting things that will tell Enid where she is. 

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"This is weird," Enid mutters. "This is the crypt, isn't it?"

"It should be," Xavier looks around. "Something feels off, though."

Yoko is walking around, her glasses are off, and she looks up to see the moon. "This isn't right. Something feels wrong," Yoko says as she turns to the group. "This moonlight feels synthetic. It's making my eyes hurt."

Bianca looks around. "Henry was a psychic, right? What classes was he taking?"

"Um," Enid thinks of some of the classes they shared, but it was generic. Then she snaps her fingers. "Oh! He was taking psychitech! You know, the class where you can use your psychic powers to build things."

"What if this is one of them?" Bianca suggests as she looks back to the group. "What if this is what he could build? Fake rooms?"

"How the hell are we supposed to get out of this? It looks way too real," Xavier sighs, rubbings his face. 

"Let me try calling Wednesday," Enid pulls out her phone and dials. It picks up after the 4th ring, and Enid almost shouts into the phone when voices are already coming through.

"—couple relents, and an agreement is formed."

"Hold on," Enid says quietly, putting the phone on speakerphone. "I think Wednesday picked up, but she's with Henry right now."

The group listens to him speak, gauging the story with tense interest. 

"That's weird," Enid whispers. "It's quiet, but I can kind of hear an echo now."

"Hey Enid," Eugene whispers as he looks at her. "You put flowers in the Crypt when we came back to school, didn't you?"

Enid screws her brows in thought but nods when she remembers. "I did in the corner...to remember Rowan."

"What flower did you put?"

"I put a potted tristeria in there because they don't require any care. I didn't want to come back to look after it."

Eugene smiles. "I think I know how we can find our way in." He summons a single bee. 

"As long as there's pollen in there, this bee will find it." 

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"So?" Wednesday raises her brow at Henry. "Aren't you going to reveal your grand master plan? What your wish will be?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because cliche villains like you can't help it," Wednesday drawls. "It's why you're all so embarrassing. You think you're so clever and the need to show your cleverness to someone overrides any smart brain cell in your head to be efficient."

Henry looks at her contemptuously, but he looks up through the open sunroof and realizes the full moon isn't in position yet, and he has time. 

"I'm an only child," Henry begins to talk.

"Here we go," Wednesday mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"My father was an alumnus here. We come from a long history of psychics and old money, so coming to this school is really the only choice. My father eventually graduated and married another socialite. You know, the type that's well-bred and genetically compatible to produce another strong psychic to pass on the legacy," Henry continues to point the knife at Wednesday but waves his other hand whimsically to emphasize his point.

"Except," Henry sighs, like the next part will be tragic. "The well-bred socialite turned out to be barren in the womb. Oh, whatever will they do? How will they pass down this enriched legacy? They need another psychic to pass it down to!"

Henry smiles like a bright idea comes to his head. It looks unhinged, which Wednesday would normally find charming, but Henry's face disgusts her to her stomach.

"Of course, the only answer is to find a surrogate. Secretly, of course. It's too shameful to let anyone know. And that means our lovely little couple finds an outcast struggling to make ends meet three states over. She's barely got any psychic abilities, but she's better than nothing, right?"

Wednesday's listening, but her eyes are taking in his stance. He doesn't stand like he has extensive combat abilities like she does, and she's confident in her odds there. 

"The couple promised riches. They promised a better house and food that wasn't stale and enough money to let her live her days out comfortably. But our soft-spoken, poor outcast says she can't agree. She loves children, and if she were to have a child, she'd want to be able to see her visit that child. The couple relents, and an agreement is formed."

Wednesday stares at the room around her without moving her eyes. This was real, wasn't it? There were limitations to Henry's powers. How many rooms could be kept active, how long he could keep them engaged, and the objects inside the mindscape can't stay outside for prolonged periods.

Henry must've brought you here because he couldn't mimic the magic residue that surrounded this crypt. 

That meant the surrounding area of his crypt would be made up of mindscapes so no one could find them.

Wednesday wonders if Enid and the rest of the group were currently lost in one of his mindscapes, and they were closer than she thought.

"Everything seems fine at first," Henry's voice interrupts her thoughts. "The pregnancy goes without a hitch, but on the day of her birth, there were complications, and she passed away soon after. Still, she gives birth to a lovely, healthy son. All should be well, right?" The way Henry says it is filled with sarcasm.

"But what should be filled with fulfilling days is just scorn. The well-bred socialite can't love a son who isn't really hers. His eyes are a constant reminder that he's someone else's child. She doesn't want to hold him, touch him, or even look at him if she doesn't have to. The father has great expectations, but when his son can't achieve them, he's distant. They don't tell him the origins of his birth, so the child is left to believe his parents just can't love a disappointment like him."

Great, Wednesday thinks, another idiot with mommy issues. "That was entirely uninteresting and cliche," Wednesday stifles a yawn, annoying Henry.

"Yes, but I'm not quite done."

"Hurry on then. I'm considering dying might be better than listening to the rest of this."

Henry sneers at her but continues on. "The child thinks he's just unloveable. That it's just the way he is, and that's why his parents cannot love him. Until one day, he's rummaging through his father's study in hopes that there's something there that could help him strengthen his psychic abilities."

"Let me guess," Wednesday drones. "You found a letter from either the doctor or the coroner about the day your birth mother had you but your father had her killed right after."

Henry looks surprised.

"Amateurs," Wednesday huffs. 

"Yes," Henry looks miffed that his plot twist was ruined. "The doctor injected nightshade into her IV, and because she was poor, her death was never looked into after the report the doctor gave."

"So?" Wednesday raises her brow. "What are you going to wish for? Your birth mother to come back so someone might love you as pathetic as you are?"

"I'm going to rewind time," Henry reveals, scowling at her. "I'm going to go back in time and kill Tyler before he can awaken as a hyde."

"Why?" Wednesday demands. "That mongrel is already behind bars and rotting. Even if you rewind back time, he's not going to awaken his hyde for you. He has severe mommy issues just like you do, and you don't seem like the motherly type."

"Not to kill my parents," Henry snaps. "For me, for my life at Nevermore. Everything was perfect before Tyler came along."

Wednesday furrows her brows. "What the hell do you—"

"If Tyler didn't come along, Miss Thornhill would still be here and she'd be focusing on me!" Henry shouts, gripping his knife tightly until veins become visible on his arms. 

Wednesday's eyes scrunch up in disgust, her head bobbing back with disbelief. "You're doing all this for Thornhill?" Her tone hides none of the contempt she feels. "Are you an absolute imbecile? Thornhill was using Tyler because she hates outcasts. She hates you too, you stupid—"

"That's not true!" Henry thunderously shouts at her. "Tyler and I were different. She cared about us but she chose Tyler because he was stronger! I'm different now! I can help her achieve her goals and we will be happy after."

"No," Wednesday curls her lip at Henry. "You were her puppet until she decided you were useless and Tyler could help her kill everyone. You do realize that was her goal, right? You'd only be kept alive until she decides she doesn't need you in her normie world."

"Shut up!" Henry's red in the face as he roars at her, stomping toward her. 

Wednesday hardens her stance, bending her knees slightly to keep her grounded. She blocks Henry's attempt to stab her before using her other elbow to dig into his sternum. It makes Henry stagger back, coughing, and grip his chest, but he hangs onto the knife. He recovers quickly before he moves back towards her, swinging the knife back and forth.

Wednesday dodges, but Henry extends his arm, and it nicks her cheek. The cut stings, and Henry grunts as he tackles her to the ground. He meant to stab her in the neck, but Wednesday moved her arm just in time and stabbed the outside of her bicep. Wednesday grunts in pain when he rips it out. 

His height difference gives him the advantage, and they're rolling on the ground. The force of the tackle made the back of Wednesday's head slam into the ground. She can feel a warm liquid dripping down the back of her head, but she doesn't let it stop her. 

Wednesday knees him in his groin, which makes him drop the knife, roll onto his back, and hold the tender area with a groan. Wednesday quickly kicks the knife away and gets on top of him, punching him in the face before she wraps her fingers around his neck and squeezes.

Henry is struggling and wheezing, his hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to rip them away, but Wednesday's grip is firm. She can feel his Adam's apple giving, and she squeezes tighter. 

Henry flails around, winding the back of his hand, and punches Wednesday in her temple. He wore a ring that dug into Wednesday's skin and ripped it open. 

The force and cut of it make Wednesday dizzy, and she's forced to let go as she staggers to the side. Henry is gasping for air but immediately scrambles for the knife. He has a cut on his brow from where Wednesday punched him, and his neck was wrung red. 

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Henry shouts, enraged as he grabs the knife. 

Wednesday is still lying on the floor, holding herself up on her elbow as she is holding her temple while her own blood coats her hand. 

The noise is deafening, and it makes you breathe deeply. 

You begin to stir, your fingers twitching. The sound of your leg moving grates against the stone table.

Henry and Wednesday snap their heads in your direction. 

"How did you..." Henry starts to say.

"Don't...touch her..." your voice is raspy and lethargic as you slowly sit up.

"Don't move," Henry threatens, grabbing the collar of Wednesday's shirt and pressing the knife against her throat. "Don't move, or I'll slice her neck open!"

Wednesday is staring at you. It's hard to see your eyes with your head tilted down and your palm pressed against your eye.

"How the hell did you wake up?' Henry seethes. "The draeconium should've kept you unconscious even when I started to cut your wings. You shouldn't have fought against it. This would've made all of it less painful."

The chain rattles as you move your palm away and look up at them. Wednesday could feel Henry tense, and she could understand why. 

Your eyes have transformed, and they were completely pitch black—even your sclera. You looked more like a demon than a faerie, and Wednesday felt her heart skip. She's entranced, eyes unable to look away. 

"I'm a high lord's daughter," your voice rumbles quietly, your eyes narrowing on them. "I'm a night faerie. You think I wouldn't be trained to have resistance against draeconium poison?"

Henry's jaw clenches, and Wednesday can't tell for certain, but she's pretty sure your eyes drop to look at the knife against her neck. 

"Let her go," you demand. "Let us both go, and the worst that will happen to you is an expulsion."

Your voice isn't threatening in any way. It's almost calm, and Wednesday almost scoffs that you'd think this psychopath would listen to you. 

"Expulsion?" Henry laughs. "The second Weems learns what I did, there's no way I won't be going to jail. My parents might just execute me out of shame."

"You could probably use your last meal to request to see your beloved Thornhill first, if she even agrees to see you," Wednesday mutters. The knife presses further into her neck threateningly. A thin slit of blood drips down from Wednesday's neck.

"There's only one way I'll let her go," Henry looks at you warily, trying to bargain. "Your wings for her life. I'll tie Wednesday up as leverage but the second I have your wings, I'll let her go."

"Only a moron would believe that," Wednesday drones, her face impassive. 

"She can't wait that long," you argue back, ignoring Wednesday. "She's losing blood in her arm."

"It's not fatal," Henry shakes his head. "I'll let you seal the wound up, but if I don't have your wings before the moon moves from the highest point in the sky, I will kill her."

"Don't bargain with me," you warn him, but your delicate tone doesn't scare Henry at all. 

Henry glares at you. He's losing his patience as he presses the knife further into Wednesday's neck, and she can feel it cut into her skin more. "There's nothing you can do but accept my bargain. You're lucky I'm even offering to let Wednesday go. I could kill her right now and still take your wings—"

Your eyes, filled with nothing but darkness, flash dangerously at him.

"Shit!" Henry suddenly curses, tenses up, and Wednesday sees his eyes cloud over. She knows that he can no longer see the way he's frantically looking around. She moves her head back, so the knife is no longer pressed against her neck. 

You suddenly spread your wings to their full span. Your wounds rip open, and blood rapidly rushes down, soaking your fingers and staining the stone table. They fill in the carved inscriptions but pour over onto the ground. 

You flap your wings, rising. The chain initially resists, but with another flap, it breaks like a measly string. 

You're hovering in the air, held up by your wings. Blood coats your shirt and cheek when your wings flap, splattering blood everywhere. 

It's terrifying how much blood you're losing, but Wednesday can't help the hitch of breath in the back of her throat. 

You look like a fallen angel. Like you fought tooth and nail before heaven cast you out.

You force your wings to their full wingspan and flap them with a reckoning force. The wind you create is so powerful that it forces Henry to fly back. He collides with a pillar, his body arches from the impact, and he gasps painfully. He drops the knife and falls onto his knees, coughing. 

You swoop down towards him, standing in front of him as you grab the collar of his shirt with both your hands, pressing him against the pillar to hold him up as he can't even stand. Henry is sure you've broken his ribs. 

"Lucky?" You snarled before seething at him. "Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday looks down at her hand, covered in blood and soaked feathers that fell when you flew over her. The air is hard to breathe after your wings disrupt the air, almost like she's choking. 

This was what her vision meant. 

How utterly useless to figure it out now. 

All Wednesday can smell is blood, all she can hear is your breathing and the sound of your wings. Your voice—raspy and rumbling—is all she can hear. Even when she closes her eyes, the image of you in the air with your bloodied wings is imprinted—burned into the back of her eyes. 

Everything about you has taken Wednesday's senses hostage.

"Say, Henry," you say, and Wednesday feels a chill down her spine in the calm and light way you say it. "What do you think would happen to you if I dropped you from 1500ft? Do you think you'd die, or do you think you'd survive and just become paralyzed?"

"Please—" Henry whimpers, begging. He screws his eyes shut despite the fact that even if they're open, he can't see anything but pitch black. It's just instinct at this point.

"Let's see who's really lucky," you tell him, pulling him from the pillar, your wings fluttering. "You or me."

You're about to take off when you feel your shirt being tugged at. 

You look over to find Wednesday standing, parts of her temple crusted with dry blood while fresh blood pouring down a line. 

Wednesday is looking at you sternly, her brows furrowed deeply while hiding something else she is feeling—desperation. 

"Don't fly," she demands you, her voice serious. "If you fly, you'll lose too much blood and you won't make it."

You merely stare at her, and Wednesday wonders if you can even hear her.

"I'm okay," Wednesday tells you quietly instead. "We both are." She turns her head to look at Henry, who looks like he has passed out from the pain in his ribs. "He's done. He can't do anything anymore."

The words seem to reach you as you loosen your grip, dropping Henry, and he falls to the floor on his side. 

You turn to Wednesday, blood dripping drop after drop from the end of your wings. 

"You've ruined your wings again," Wednesday scowls at you, and your lip twitches. "You fool, they will never heal at this rate."

"They will," your voice was raspy. "I just need intensive care for the rest of the year."

Wednesday keeps her scowl at you, and you smile weakly at her.

"Thank you for coming to find me," you tell her, your voice lulls Wednesday.

"Of course, you were late," Wednesday relaxes her face as she looks over your wings. As much as she hated to admit it, this was out of her hands, and they needed the nurse.

You smile sadly, and it looks strange with someone whose eyes are completely black. "I missed our date."

"Stop with the look," Wednesday orders. "It's unnecessary. I can always plan it again."

You look happy, then. But you also look extremely tired. The black from your eyes fades and after a couple long blinks, they become normal again. 

"Thank you for saving me," Wednesday eventually says, her features looking soft as they gaze at you. "Even if you were stupid enough to ruin your wings."

You chuckle, but it's weak. You lift your hand, almost hesitating to touch Wednesday's face since your hands are coated in blood. But Wednesday leans into it, letting it smear her cheek.

You're so warm, and it's comforting to Wednesday. It was a sign you were alive. 

Making sure you paid for making her feel wretched over you would have to wait because all Wednesday can do right now is be thankful you're alive.

You lean towards her face, your lips hovering over hers. 

"Don't die," Wednesday quietly commands. "Ever. Especially without me."

You smile, and it brushes against Wednesday's lip. 

"Are you threatening me with a good time again?" you murmur. "But okay, only because you have such a way with words."

You're about to close the distance, but you slump against her instead, passing out.

Wednesday holds you securely, her eyes widening. 

Suddenly, Enid burst through the room. Well, first, it was a bee, and then Enid.

"We're here! I'm going to wolf out and beat that motherfuc—oh, you guys already won."

The group follows quickly behind Enid, taking in the gory scene.

"Jesus Christ, Addams," Bianca scowls at her. "Did you make Fae do all the work? What happened to the Addams that held someone hostage to torture them?"

Wednesday doesn't respond to the comment, merely passing you to Enid and Yoko to carry. "Take her to the nurse quickly."

"It'll be faster if I carry her in my wolf form," Enid says. "Let's take her outside first."

"I can do some first aid to hold her over," Bianca follows. "Let's get her near the river; I can use the river water."

They all take a moment to stare at you. 

"I didn't know she had wings," Yoko comments. "They're beautiful."

"If rumors of her wings go around, I will—"

"Obviously, we're not going to talk about them, Addams," Bianca rolls her eyes. "You don't need to threaten our lives."

Wednesday shrugs. 

"Let's just get going," Enid starts to move. Everyone begins to follow except Xavier. He stays and lingers around Wednesday.

"You need medical attention too," Xavier glosses over her, specifically the wound in her arm. 

"I'm fine," Wednesday brushes him off, turning around to stare at Henry on the ground. "You should go help them."

Xavier follows Wednesday's gaze. "I can help you carry him back."

"I'm not bringing him back," Wednesday monotones.

Xavier sighs. "Wednesday, I know what he did was horrible and he should die for it, but you can't kill him. Weems might—"

"I'm not going to kill him either," Wednesday interrupts. "You should leave."

"Wednesday—"

"Now, Xavier," she snaps.

Xavier hesitates for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh and turning to leave the room.

Something scuddles into the room, and Wednesday turns to see Thing.

"There you are, Thing," Wednesday says. "Let's see if your scalpel skills improved."

PART 10