Karma in Glorious Splendor - Chapter 1 - LaylaJeffany (2024)

Chapter Text

Are we still really starting off with first-person POV journal entries written in mixed voice? I’ve made moderate to significant improvements in regard to being in touch with my feelings as they relate to my thoughts. Let’s try a more creative or abstract outlet for the next year or so; it will be far more fun for any therapist to interpret during my inevitable next round of court-mandated mental health services, in the least.

The sun is haunting; the light holds power that I can never understand
Yet, I have been seeking it – like a tall summer flower,
I yearn for the warmth like the perfect palm closed in my hand

She has made it so easy for me to forget I am a creature of dark,
I walk so blissfully alongside the Dove and the Wolf,
I forget that the blackness pulls me down – a difference so stark

Adoration, trust, vulnerability, masking my nature in a colliding force,
Disconnected, aloof, distracted…
I sense it won’t be long before I experience remorse

For thinking that I could get away with the light
My power receding, my tenaciousness depleting,
I need to find myself again, utmost alone in the hours of night

Was that simply gratuitous, showy, foreshadowing of the events that will take place over the course of a few weeks in my life? The next seventy thousand words will either confirm or deny.

X

Enid had been trapped in a giggle fit for almost three minutes straight – largely at her girlfriend’s expense. Thankfully, Wednesday had matured beyond the point of stomping off and pouting about being laughed at…at least by Enid. The bird she’d been stalking for an impromptu archery competition had made it quite known that he did not intend to be her prey that day as it left a present on her shoulder upon departing the perch he’d been preening on. Finally settled, Enid helped her out of the highly unnecessary black tactical vest she’d donned for the occasion, making sure the guano hadn’t managed to seep through to the long sleeve, all white athletic top she had on underneath. “I think you might just want to give Pugsley the win today.”

“You just want to watch me lose,” Wednesday grumbled.

“No…” Enid put her hands behind her back and her features shifted to a familiar sort of troublemaking. “I just want to sneak you into the hollowed-out tree by the foxhole and make out with you instead of stalking hawks.”

Wednesday tilted her head just a little, trying not to smile. Truthfully, as they’d been crouched so close together for nearly fifteen minutes, she was starting to have thoughts of her own about wandering hands, particularly with Enid’s significantly-less covered outfit. Still, she pretended like she wasn’t overly fazed by the short shorts and proximity, teasing, “You didn’t have enough of that last night and this morning?”

“Never,” Enid practically purred, her hands sliding over Wednesday’s hips. She didn’t exactly feel make out worthy in the oversized cargo pants that had a line of sweat running from the crease of her knees to her ankles as she stubbornly dressed for hunting season, instead of the sticky summer weather that their neck of the New Jersey woods was receiving. Enid, on the other hand, looked like a girl next door straight out of a teenage romcom in her pair of cut-off denim shorts and a pink tank top with a baby blue one underneath so that her belly-button wasn’t sticking out (Wednesday wished it was). Wednesday had insisted she at least have some sort of minimal protection on, though, and Enid had used her mother’s sun protecting potion and donned her light blue hiking boots with a lacey white sock sticking out over the tops, giving her a mild, pleasant scent a little different from her usual fruity notes. With her stack of bracelets, and her hair twisted into little curly buns at the nape of her neck, a few pieces having fallen out, framing her face in the humidity…

“Okay,” Wednesday said after looking her over, only barely feeling guilty about checking her girlfriend out.

Enid let out a delighted sound, complete with a little bounce. She carefully folded Wednesday’s vest and took her hand, leading her on the familiar path after nearly three weeks of summer at the Addams family home.

Truthfully, Wednesday was actually enamored by her request. She’d have all the time in the world to best Pugsley in any manner of sporting competitions on the property over the next few weeks – but she only had a few more days until Enid would be gone for nearly a month, studying theater in her summer intensive. She had managed to avoid thinking about it too hard with their slow, lazy morning wakeups most days that didn’t have them out of bed until nearly nine o’clock. After stuffing themselves with a big breakfast, they’d manage to focus on some kind of academic task – Wednesday’s online classes were going strong, and she was enjoying them. Enid had received a host of pre-work to do for her upcoming theatrical experience as well. By twelve-thirty, they took a break to have a lunch with one of Wednesday’s grandmothers, whoever seemed to be placed in loose charge of the house and ‘children’ for the day. Most afternoons were spent in true summer fashion – like the one they were in the middle of, in the woods, the lake, or the orchard – getting all there was out of the season until Lurch would ring a dinner bell warning to head inside and wash up to be ready for the family meal at half-past six.

After eating all together, they primarily ended up in her father’s study, looking at the latest from the New Network on his new-fangled computer (he was still struggling to keep up with the device, but his wife was all too happy to sit on his lap and take over it). Some evenings, they were working through family matters that Gomez was actively teaching to Pugsley – most of which, Wednesday was aware of, but was content to keep herself busy so that Enid would understand their unique history as well. For the rest of the night, her mother would squirrel them away into her study for divination practice until close to midnight – unless Wednesday managed to fall asleep during meditation, which seemed to be occurring more often. Her mother promised – it was a sign that she was at ease and relaxed, though she found herself annoyed to miss out on nighttime activities with her girlfriend when it happened.

But truly, she was desperately trying to feel as such – primarily at eased and relaxed. She was anticipating Enid being away and the entire routine falling to shambles and her mood souring significantly, but Wednesday honestly felt a small sense of peace and more so, belonging. The feeling had been missing for a while as she had been struggling to find her place everywhere she had been since her final expulsion from public school. There was a lot still rattling around in her head that she was fiercely hoping stayed there instead of spilling out in maladaptive ways – at least, until Enid was away. (She was prone to fits, but doing so in front of her girlfriend was hardly becoming.)

She hid a surprised sound when Enid pushed her to sit with a little more force than she was expecting in the hollow tree. Enid had apparently been hoping to persuade Wednesday to give up the hunt for more than a minute as she plopped onto her lap and put one hand on her shoulder, the other on the back of her head, kissing her soundly with a contented breath out her nose. Trying not to miss a beat and keep up, Wednesday let one of her palms land on her waist, thumb creeping up the tank top she had on, while the other was on her lower back – a little damp with late afternoon sweat.

Enid pulled back and popped up in a startle at the sound of a gunshot and Wednesday just rolled her eyes. “Pugsley won.”

Usually – the discharging weapon sound of the victor would hail everyone together, but Wednesday only smirked – thinking Pugsley should think twice about the spoils of his victory when Wednesday didn’t turn up with a metaphorical tail between her legs. If he dared seek her out to gloat, he would receive quite an eyeful as Wednesday tugged Enid back down to her.

A little snake appeared out of Wednesday’s collar as her head met the trunk of the tree when Enid gave a little force of want. Smirking, she pushed Augustus back into her top but Enid pulled back with a sigh, her shoulders slumped. “I’m fully understanding Emi’s POV right now. GusGus, we’ve talked about this, buddy,” She said in half a whine. He stuck his stripey head out, giving an adorable tilt. Enid gently lifted him and gave him a kiss of her own. Though she couldn’t understand him the way Wednesday did, she’d long learned to communicate with her reptile co-son. “I love you, too. But it’s – you know – people kissing is intimate. So…there, that’s good.”

Wednesday could understand what he was suggesting without even touching him and hid her own laugh while he curled up in a pout on top of her vest. “He’s hoping you’ll sense my seizures.”

Enid humphed, confidently telling Wednesday, “You’re going to be seeing stars, and not because your optic lobe betrays you.” With that, she tore off Wednesday’s UV-blocking white top, revealing just a little black compression bra that was lined with sweat, leaving an embarrassed feeling creep up and making her want to hide away from anyone’s touch -

Well, Enid must not have agreed with that.

“Remember, wolves don’t mind,” She whispered, kissing her neck, making Wednesday sigh as she tried to force herself to ignore her urges to cover up and hide from the affection. “You smell good,” She promised. “Like mama’s potion, the lavender you put on us at three o’clock last night, and…a little bit…hm, well – it’s not the smell of loss or disappointment, per say – more like…”

“Enid,” Wednesday spoke, and her girlfriend giggled, stopping her ramble to kiss her again. It was a collision of Enid’s desire and Wednesday’s willingness despite how much she was experiencing sensory overload in the heat. She opened her mouth just a little, inviting Enid in, which she took greedily, one hand on the back of her head, between her braids, the other firm on her hip as she kissed her eagerly. Enid was hungry for the overt affection, and Wednesday was glad she’d learned how to respond to it appropriately, so Enid didn’t have to hold back on her account. Though they were still…holding all the way back, Wednesday was starting to really open herself up more. Vulnerability was less of the issue anymore, and she certainly loved and trusted Enid more than anyone else in the world. Identifying why she stuck in some sort of unexplainable, overly sensitive conundrum was one of the final barriers she really wanted to work through that summer. But – unwilling to talk freely about sex or open up about her mental barrier that was leading to a physical struggle was going to continue to make it something she fought against in silence.

Enid was so patient with her – had been from the very start, and Wednesday knew that was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love and learned to trust her in the first place. At the same time, the very fact that she was worried about not keeping pace with what was expected while Enid’s tongue was actively in her mouth, was proving Wednesday’s own point to herself -

Snapping out of her own dysfunctional thoughts, Wednesday remembered to reciprocate – not because it was simply what was expected, or what Enid hoped for, but because she liked the way that Enid responded when she made her feel wanted.

Enid let out a little sigh into her mouth when Wednesday pushed back a little, her hand wandering up the two layers of tank tops she had on, finding Enid was just as damp and overheated as she was. Smirking into the kiss, she took control a touch by pulling away for a split second to nip her teeth along Enid’s bottom lip. She sucked in a breath and her hand drifted to just above the waistband of Wednesday’s pants, stroking bare, heated skin.

Wednesday wanted to take off both shirts, push her to the grassy earth and attack her chest in kisses, and just about did when Enid moved to have a thigh on either side of Wednesday’s hips, making it clear that she wasn’t going anywhere, and that Enid was very much the one in charge.

She pushed back from where Wednesday had attempted to take over, and Wednesday couldn’t help the little smirk and dizzying sense of being loved on that took over the logical and anxious thoughts in her brain, letting it all be quelled and quieted with eager kisses.

They went from eager to long, slow and sweet, once she stopped thinking and found her groove, hands wandering on one another, lips and tongues twisting into succeeding in giving each other those stars that Enid mentioned to the snake.

Catching her breath after a long stretch, Wednesday put a warm palm on Enid’s cheek as she pulled back just a bit to look at her. Though Enid’s eyes were dark with lust and for someone covered in grime and sweat – Wednesday could just see the love and attraction, as it was all pure and –

Her meandering thoughts of romance were interrupted by the dinner bell. Enid let out a groan of disappointment, bending down and attacking Wednesday’s neck in kisses that half-tickled before pulling back. “We both have to take a shower before we go down to eat, so – we’ll finish all this later,” She said, gesturing up and down and giving a little wink.

Her tongue was too numb to find words to reply, and Wednesday merely wrapped both arms around Enid from behind when she tried to crawl out of the tree, holding her back in a hug. Enid found another little sound, something like a mewl of appreciation. Holding her for about thirty seconds, she finally kissed her shoulder and let go, gathering her top and vest – figuring the snug sports bra that covered her to nearly her bellybutton was suitable to get up to her bedroom tower in. GusGus gave a pointed look when he was about to slither back on her neck, ending up sticking to the fabric of the clothes in her arms instead. So gross, mama Wednesday.

Hiding a sound that would have been too close to a laugh, she tapped his snout and followed Enid inside. Thing greeted them at the door, signing some sort of a where have you been sort of accusation, having obviously disapproved of how she’d given up the hunt that he was supposed to be judging the winner of. Giving him a little push, she followed Enid up the stairs, walking behind her – knowing that Enid didn’t mind if she stared at her backside, and really unable to the way her shorts moved with her -

They arrived at dinner almost on time after a host of touching and teasing in their attempt to clean up and get changed. Her mother was lingering near the open front window with a glass of red wine, speaking in soft tones with her granny. Morticia was wearing one of her ‘summer casual’ dresses – which largely meant the absence of velvet, and that the bell sleeve stopped at the elbow instead of draping past her hands. She paused her conversation with Wednesday’s granny and smiled at the girls as they entered, glancing between them at matching black and white sun dresses that she’d picked out for them.

“Good evening. I heard you weren’t around for your brother to gloat at earlier. I can hardly fathom what you could’ve been up to instead,” Her mother said with a wink, pulling one of Wednesday’s braids forward to cover a spot Enid had left on her shoulder that must have been rapidly forming into a bruise.

Forcing her flush to stay hidden, she tightened her grip on Enid’s hand when she tried to pull away as both her grandmothers caught her up in conversation. Despite the ten hours they’d already spent together that day, she wasn’t ready to give her up.

Morticia noticed and curled an arm around her daughter’s shoulders in a promise – it was okay to let go.

The nonverbal communication between them had improved a hundred-fold since the summer previous.

Without even a sigh, Wednesday let up on the pressure, and it was hardly ten seconds later that Enid was folded into the hug of both of her granny and grandmama. Morticia squeezed her daughter and guided her to the table, where there was plenty of red meat options – as no one knew whether or not Enid was willing to try to wolf out for the full moon the following night (even Enid herself wasn’t sure), but they wanted her to be physically ready if she did.

Gomez, Pugsley and Lurch arrived from where they must have been having some sort of manly time after the failed sporting event for Wednesday, and as Gomez swept his hand out across the table, everyone took their places. The Addams were not any longer following patriarchal tendencies, but they were traditional, and as Gomez was the head of the family at the present, he called a few simple shots for everyone.

Pugsley started their dinnertime conversation by bragging that Wednesday hadn’t even brought back a prize, and she kept her mouth shut with a cheesy line, befitting of her father, about how she won the greatest prize of all when Enid squeezed her upper thigh playfully under the table. Her brother hadn’t quite read the cues that Enid had been giving off recently though, and practically begged, “Can I please join you tomorrow night, Enid?”

She flushed, the moment souring a touch as she confessed, “I…haven’t decided yet, if I’m ready to wolf out.”

“Oh,” Pugsley said with a look of confusion, like he was going to ask a follow up question, but a swift kick to his shin from Wednesday’s boot made him flinch a little and seemingly reconsider.

Enid sighed as she cut into her meat, looking suddenly disappointed in herself. Wednesday was about ready to drag Pugsley down to the elevator shaft by his ears and hang him by his toes and stretch his arms out until one popped out of his shoulder socket –

“It’s okay. It’s me, I’m…” She winced a little. “You know, for a long time, I was disappointed in myself for not wolfing out. Then, when I finally did – my family pack made me feel so disconnected from it…that I was ashamed of it, almost. Wednesday helped me so much, but she’s also helped me in another way, by giving me a choice of whether or not I want to tap into it. And shifting by accident, knowing I’ve got some sort of extra-powerful wolf inside of me that – isn’t normal, by our standards…I’m still working through it.”

Morticia paused her own meal to look at her quite seriously, her fork up in the air in a way that was so very…her, invoking the dainty sort of correction was coming. “Enid, you know that abnormal is the hallmark of our family credo, do you not?”

She found a pretty little smile as she replied. “Of course. I’ve just got to find a way to marry that acceptance with traditional wolf expectations. I know you all love me, even if I’ve got a big, hairy monster that could pop out, unrestrained, without a full moon. I guess I just haven’t finished unpacking what that means for my own culture…or maybe – I haven’t fully packed that away to enjoy the approval that I have here.”

“More than approval, mighty wolf,” Gomez added his own gentle amendment to her line of thinking. “We love you – for your peculiar wolf trait, not in spite of it.”

Enid flushed and looked back down at her plate. Wednesday put a hand back on her leg, and she glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “If the Council were to ever find out – that I was able to shift outside of the moon or taking something to prevent myself from shifting during it…I’d be dragged in front of them and -”

“Not likely,” Wednesday said darkly, daring anyone else to speak in defense of Enid before her. “No one is going to take you anywhere against your will, ever again. If you decide to confront the Council, it will be of your own choice, to tell them that they are the ones in the wrong, not you – not others who are different than what they think is an ideal standard of Werewolf. If you decide to stand in front of them, I will be behind you, and they will think twice before doing or saying anything to offend you.”

Enid had a visible shiver up her spine at that, looking at Wednesday like she wanted to take her upstairs. Wednesday disregarded her own rules and briefly considered how many times her parents had made her uncomfortable with a display of affection at meals and put her hands on Enid’s cheeks, kissing her soundly. Enid responded with a little sigh of appreciation – but Wednesday didn’t let it get carried away. “Regardless of whether or not you decide to shift, you need your red meat.”

She gave a mute nod, obviously overwhelmed in the moment, but not in the way she had been at the start of it.

After dinner, with Enid and Pugsley taking a turn on dish duty, Morticia whisked Wednesday into her study before her father could sink himself into long-winded lectures in his own when the others finished. She obviously sensed that Wednesday was stewing in thoughts that day as she suggested, “A detaching meditation, to help you focus more on the present and less up here.” She tapped her own head and Wednesday scowled but didn’t disagree.

“The midsummer solstice is just a few days away – so I am grateful you are dwelling on things that require extensive thought. However, it is possible the earth isn’t quite balanced enough and ready for you to explore them so deeply without the shift in the cosmos that the season will bring.”

Not sure entirely how much she subscribed to that, Wednesday did recognize that it wasn’t safe to spend so much time in her head, and agreed to a unique meditation with her mother. Morticia tried not to look too eager as she brought Wednesday out to the back porch closest to her study; the evening sun still had plenty of time to bathe her in the brightness that her nature tried to defy.

Morticia tucked a black string of beads over Wednesday’s shoulders, and she lifted a sunflower charm at the middle to examine it. “Holly says that Larissa is like a Sunflower.”

That made her mother give a knowing smile. “Tall, radiant, and always looking towards the sun, the light. I suppose that’s an accurate simile. Sunflowers are an old symbol for our solstice, as you know – though the perennials here won’t be in bloom for us until late July. Still, as we recognize the light of the season, I believe the symbol is appropriate.” She tucked herself beside Wednesday, her hands in her lap, her shoulders back – posture always immaculate. Wednesday tried to mimic her, shaking her head as she even thought about that word. “You spoke a powerful piece during supper, darling. But I know that’s not all that is on your mind. Would you like to release it, before you attempt to clear it?”

Wednesday moved the sunflower around on the string of beads, refusing to let out the heave of a sigh that threatened her. She really didn’t want to discuss physical intimacy with her mother on the back porch of their family home on a warm night in June…or, really – ever, if she could avoid it. There had surely been a few necessary conversations that had occurred after her traumatic visions that past year regarding the topic, but that was quite different than talking about what she was yearning to discover with her girlfriend. She knew that Morticia would do her best not to gross her out with personal anecdotes – she’d gotten so much better at figuring out how to talk to her daughter…

“No,” She finally decided firmly, seeing just the faintest twinge of disappointment in her mother’s still-gentle, mostly understanding smile. “I’m grateful you recognize what I need. I’m simply not ready to vocalize it. But – if I want to enjoy the next few days and try not to give into melancholy after the inevitable loss of time with Enid, I do need to let these thoughts go.” She let out the breath, finally, squaring her shoulders a little more to match the Dove beside her. “Teach me how?”

Morticia reached into a prepared basket, pulling out a small bundle of wildflowers. She placed three, five-sided thimbleweed plants in front of her, explaining, “Thimbleweeds are long since said to ward off negative energy. You are going to follow your usual light seeking breathwork. Just before you slip into formal meditation to enter the ether, you are going to pluck each petal, and release your thoughts as you do so – three times. After you achieve peace in the ether, bring me your petals. We will steep them overnight, and then pour that negative energy down the drain in the morning.”

Wednesday wanted to merely accept what she’d said – but her always looming desire to be ornery won out as she corrected, “Sure, but – thimbleweed plants don’t have petals, they’re technically sepals.”

At that, her mother let out a throaty laugh that ended with a half a groan and a kiss to the top of Wednesday’s head as she stood up, squeezing her shoulders in a hug. “Release yourself of the burden of overthinking, my darling girl.”

Agreeing, Wednesday began her usual sequence of deep breathing, her eyes closed, doing nothing but counting, holding in air, and letting it go. It was nearly ten minutes before she was almost at the point of visualizing her light and entering the ether. With enough pluck, mentally and physically, she tugged each of the sepals off the thimbleweeds, letting them fall into her lap as she thought to herself: release the hesitation of physical intimacy, release the fear of Enid being alone, release the sensation of inadequacy.

Repeating it as directed, Wednesday disassembled the final plant before picturing a sunflower, searching out the sun, finding herself tumbling pleasantly into a field full of them.

She stood up, feeling small as she wove through rows, trying to discern meaning from being there – why the universe brought her to such a place alone –

Except as she turned a corner, Wednesday crossed her arms, recognizing she wasn’t alone.

“I didn’t anticipate running into you outside of Jericho, particularly, in the light end of the ether,” She spoke with a little bit more co*ckiness than probably necessary.

Goody Addams looked her up and down with a bit of the same attitude. “I might not have much concept of time here, but even I feel a pull when it is nearly a solstice in your realm.” She ran her fingers over a fuzzy stem. “You shall soon be welcoming back the darkening days after the longest time of sun.”

Giving a dumb nod, Wednesday stared hard, wanting to be combative. She hadn’t sensed Goody in Jericho after putting up her monument, and certainly hadn’t tried seeking her out. It was their first interaction since she’d released the remnants of Quinton’s evil into the nether. Taking her in, she noticed. “You still have the Beanie Baby,” She said with the faintest twitch of her lips up, as Caw the blackbird stuck out of Goody’s apron pocket.

Her ancestor lifted it out, holding it in both hands, like it was as precious and fragile as a newborn baby. “I confess, this seemingly innocuous tchotchke has become meaningful to me,” She said in a confession that Wednesday didn’t anticipate. “I have not been able to access a place like this in what I assume to be hundreds of years. Yet, since our last interaction, since you gave me this children’s toy of comfort – I have found myself able to once again visualize places that have been long cutoff from my former mental images.”

“I suppose that’s encouraging,” Wednesday chided. “I told you it was not as silly as you wanted to think it was. Being comforted by someone or something we love is a very powerful magic. I am sorry that opportunity was taken away from you.”

Goody lifted her shoulders, stroking the yellow-orange beak of the bird. “If I was allowed to give into light without hiding it in the dark, you would not be here, Wednesday Addams.”

“I guess that’s something I share with my mentor, then,” Wednesday muttered, thinking about Imogen and Josie for a moment. She shook her head. “I recognize the privileges I have. But that doesn’t mean my life is easy simply because I’m not at risk of being burned at a literal stake every time I leave the house. Believe me, there are plenty of modern problems we face that I have yet to find solutions for.”

Goody tucked Caw to her chest with one hand, the other resuming the journey of feeling the different sunflower stems. “Yet – that was not what troubled you which brought you to this place.” Wednesday glared, wondering how she knew that. “Your face may be blank, but I can read you easily. You are troubled by personal demons, not societal ones.”

“Wrong,” Wednesday had to disagree. “Though demons isn’t the right word I’d use in either context, regardless. I’m not up for sharing at this time. But – inquiring minds would like to know, have you yet sensed your Cherity – now that you are apparently not locked at the gate of the nether?”

Goody’s eyes went up to the sun, and she lifted her shoulders. “I cannot yet tell if she moved on, or if she is in the light.”

Wednesday brushed by her, indicating that she wanted Goody to follow. “Tell me, three positive memories you have of her?”

“Cherity loved cats,” Goody answered without hesitation, walking slowly a half step behind Wednesday – almost like a predator stalking her prey. “She was constantly rescuing ship cats who were abandoned after their voyages. Her favorite was a one-eyed creature who had half a face of orange, the other of black, with white paws and belly. He was missing half a tail and a back leg. She named him Lazarus because she was sure he had fought off death.”

Hiding a snort of amusem*nt at that, Wednesday listened as she added, “She adored my son. He called her Aunt Cherity – though all I wished he would call her, was mama.”

“Did you love him?” Wednesday had to know.

“I cared for him. I ensured his needs were met. He did not know that I was unattached to him, while he was with me. That may very well be what spared me for a few years after he was removed from my custody. Had I loved him as well? I am not sure I would have let myself live as long as I did.”

Letting out a sigh, Wednesday blinked, stating, “One more positive thing about her?”

Goody was quiet for a moment before softly expressing, “Cherity was my light. If I really wanted to access this ether, I didn’t need to picture anything but her.”

Wednesday understood that deeply. She almost wanted to probe Goody with questions about intimacy – about how she overcame the dark thoughts that plagued her to give into it – to be so raw, vulnerable, but…their circ*mstances were so very different, that she wasn’t sure it would make much of a difference to ask. Besides, she was supposed to have plucked the thoughts from her mind.

“What is the name of the girl whom you love?” Goody asked her after a long stretch of quiet.

“Enid,” Wednesday replied quietly. “She’s a Werewolf.”

“I suppose that the nature of your relationship is thusly extra taboo, then,” Goody said with a stiff lip. “Her family, how have they responded?”

“For a host of complex reasons, she has left her biological pack. We are our own pack – she is a member of the Addams family, without yet having made official vows or mating – that will all come later. But she is accepted and loved deeply by all of us.”

Goody didn’t reply with her social commentary on that, which Wednesday appreciated, as she had a feeling it wouldn’t exactly align with the 2024 views on Werewolf-Psychic relations, and even those were remarkably backward. “Your mother – she is a Dove, yes?”

“Yes,” Wednesday tilted her head a little. She wondered, not knowing the intricate details of history, “Were you acquaintances with any, in the original Nightshades?”

“I had many acquaintances. The Nightshades had many types of Outcasts. I avoided Doves. I felt judged harshly by their light seeking ways. I never did achieve such actualization, though I did eventually make it to this light side of the ether, in life – as required by some of my spells. It was grueling, each time. What is it like, to have a Dove as a caregiver?”

“Our relationship has been complicated, up until this year,” Wednesday walked with one foot in front of the other in a little crisscross pattern to focus on anything other than feelings. “I have grown immense respect and admiration for my mother over time and learned to understand her perspective more. It won’t ever be perfect, but it is remarkably improved. I like working with her and being part of her traditions.”

“You’ll never fully be part of them, Wednesday. You will always be on the outside, looking in. You cannot achieve what it is your mother does – because you are not light.”

Stopping, suddenly feeling a need to end the conversation before Goody’s negativity could impact her like a prophesy as it had before, true or not, Wednesday refuted her. “I may not be light. But as you said of your Cherity, you had light – I have light. Multiple sources. My mother is one of them. And I probably can achieve what my mother can – because I’m not just a Raven, I’m a Mimic – and with any luck, I’ll be able to replicate her power if I need to.”

Goody blinked at her. “How fortunate for you, to have everything.”

Wednesday came out of the ether with a gasp but managed not to fall forward or back. She was surprised by Thing, who was tapping his fingers, giving a shrug – wondering if it’d worked. “Well – I’ve certainly got new thoughts on my mind – so in that sense, sure.”

She stood up after collecting the Thimbleweed sepals, finding her mother and Enid in her study – noticing it was going on nine-thirty.

How she hated what running into another Raven in the ether did to her time in the real world.

Deciding not to mention it, she lingered in the doorway for a moment as she watched Enid muddling something together at the work desk, while her mother had on her little slim glasses, flipping through a book, explaining some of the upcoming Solstice traditions. “Howdy,” Wednesday greeted after successfully, silently sneaking into the room between them. Both her mother and Enid wore a similar smile at the sight of her and she rolled her eyes, dropping the white representation of her twisted thoughts on top of the workspace. Feeling like Goody had stained her very thoughts on being in their more positive presence that night, Wednesday muttered, “I’m going to play my cello.”

With that, she gave an about face and scooped up the snake that was playing a little too close to an heirloom thumbscrew for her liking. Not wanting Augustus to get his neck trapped in one on display, she told him he was going to bed, then tucked him into his enclosure before visiting the music room. With just too much in the room she shared with Enid, it had become a permanent home for her oversized violin.

Flipping through sheet music, she shrugged when Thing just couldn’t help himself and appeared, picking a selection of a brutal, early 1900s Russian score. “What beautiful pain,” She said to him, approving and placing it on the music stand, readying herself as he gave a little cross of his fingers for luck before she began to play.

X

The main reason that Wednesday wasn’t sure about Enid going to New York for a few weeks occurred around three in the morning – the witching hour, of course. It also correlated with the time the events happened in their real life.

The sequence had become predictable – thrashing, whining – a heave of breath, followed by Enid’s hysterical sobbing. Trying not to apologize, blubbering out nonsense – that she knew it wasn’t real…

Enid still often was a disconsolate wreck at night.

The thought of her going off by herself to cope with the past on her own almost made Wednesday as upset as reliving the event each night.

It’d been months – she figured out how to settle her girlfriend down (her mother had tried the first few times it happened – but Wednesday alone knew what Enid needed). She started by giving her a gentle kiss, but right away afterwards, pushing her up to the top of the pillows, sitting Enid all the way up. It was a position that would have been impossible to get into in the coffin – and for some reason, Wednesday felt like that was important. She carefully tented her legs up, drawing her knees to her chest, giving a little pressure against them, then drawing them down, and up – a distracting movement, making her physically feel a sensation that hadn’t been there – hadn’t been something she could consider when she couldn’t even turn on her side. Wednesday just needed to pull her out of the panic before she could give her all the tenderness she wanted to.

Once Enid was more with her – eyes less glazed over, breath coming a bit more evenly, Wednesday would sit on her lap, stroking her hair, her cheeks, her shoulders, reminding her to breathe – she was there. She had as much air as she needed, she had Wednesday – all that she’d wanted when that psycho had buried her six feet under.

Finally, she’d be settled enough to curl back up with Wednesday, who would whisper-sing to her, borrowing a strategy from her mentor, until Enid was ready to talk. Sometimes, she fell back asleep before a conversation was had.

On the night before the full moon, an old Julie London song did the trick. They were both lying on their hips, Enid’s face tucked into Wednesday’s shoulder, lips falling repeatedly to the top of her hair between lyrics and breaths, one hand drawing circles on her lower back as she whispered, “Heaven is in your eyes…bright as the stars we’re under…oh, is it any wonder? I’m in the mood for love.”

Enid finally let out a loud breath that let Wednesday know – the fear that had persisted was gone; the revisited anguish was over for the night.

She’d been to the twin psychics at Nevermore – at the end of spring, when those nightmares had been so much more severe, and sometimes – happening in daylight hours. They’d taken away the feeling as best they could, but the ordeal had been so unbearably traumatic, she wondered if they had only identified some of the feelings in the beginning, that were transforming overtime. Either way - Wednesday couldn’t imagine the shape Enid would be in if they hadn’t done their work on her.

It didn’t feel like enough…

“Enid!” Wednesday sat up, almost aggressively, Enid’s head dropping to the pillow, a surprised grunt leaving her. As Wednesday began to sprout an idea out so late in the night, she felt ridiculous for not considering it sooner. “I think, the twins, Doctors Lochlan – they didn’t obtain all there was to remove…they helped, of course. But I can replicate their power. I can mimic what it is they do; I should be able to take different feelings about the event away! Feelings that weren’t so obvious, back in April, but over time, have come out more as you’ve dealt with it, as it shows you different versions of the event at night…”

“Wednesday…” Enid sighed, rolling onto her stomach for a moment, hiding her face before lifting it just enough to say, “I’m always going to have the memory of it, no matter what I’m feeling. And what my brain decides to do with it while I sleep is really out of my control.”

Frowning, Wednesday didn’t let it stop her tangent from forming. “But the less intense feelings you have related to the event, eventually, you’d just stop thinking about it so much, right, even subconsciously?”

“Was that how it worked with you last summer after everything with Crackstone?” Enid argued, fairly – softly, in a gentle tone; it wasn’t accusatory. “I’m not unwilling to try – you know I trust you in my head. It’s just – I don’t think it’s going to make a difference. But of course, I trust you to try.”

“I don’t need much, just -”

“Oh…we have to do this now? At…three thirty in the morning?”

“The witching hour is powerful, Enid,” Wednesday rebutted – not just out of desperation for wanting to do anything to relieve her burden. Enid sat herself up again, looking overly disheveled. Wednesday swallowed some guilt back, clarifying, “But – if you’re not up for this now, of course, we don’t have to.”

Enid shrugged. “If you need salt, we’ll have to get some from your mother’s study – we’re out up here.”

Hiding a smirk at the notion that Enid knew what divination supplies they had because Enid was as involved in her craft as Wednesday was, she tugged her close, kissing her lips and promising to be right back as she hurried to get some. She was back so fast, Enid had only finished unrolling the rug she decided they were going to use, and had pulled out a few candles, explaining, “You and Emi should have a candle making day when she gets here – you’re woefully low. We’ve been busy, hm?”

Again, Wednesday couldn’t help herself with how she smiled and draped her arms over Enid when she sat down, kissing her cheek. The summer previous, she could hardly even tolerate the thought of divination arts – she knew a lot, from observing her mother, but it was a rare, rare day she completed any on her own. As of three weeks into June, she was already running low on materials from such frequent exploration with her partner. “Emi loves candle making, that’s a good idea. Put yourself into a lotus position?”

Enid took her mark while Wednesday closed her eyes – visualizing what the small, repurposed supply closet in the mental health wing of Nevermore had been loaded with. Adding a few additional tools, she gave just a little frown, considering – the twins did the arts together. Still, Wednesday hadn’t been the target of an intense stalking and desired for her power for nothing. She believed herself to be as strong as the Doctors Lochlan together.

“I’m going to be entering your mind here, at your crown,” She spoke, considering how much she’d learned about energy points since the doctors attempted to remove her feelings as well. “Unfortunately, you have to think about the event. I’m sorry, I hate to do that to you -”

“It’s okay,” She sighed, reaching up for Wednesday’s hands. “It’s okay. To think about. It happened. I can’t ignore it.”

“But I don’t want it to hurt you,” Wednesday said, “And I won’t be there in New York, to help you when you hurt. So…”

Enid tugged her wrists into her lap. “You are not responsible for my moods, Wednesday. This was not your fault. You are not to blame for what happened. We keep…talking in circles about this. With any luck, I’m going to be so bone-tired from twelve to fifteen hours of dance and theater every day, I won’t even know I’m having a nightmare.”

“We can’t be so sure,” Wednesday argued, “And if there is something I can do about it, I should. So, please? Can we get started?”

“If you promise not to feel guilty about it if it doesn’t work,” Enid warned.

“Promise,” Wednesday said, not crossing her fingers behind her back, but also – not fully intending on keeping it. Enid didn’t have to know just how deeply she criticized herself for everything that wasn’t measuring up to her too-high standards of perfectionism.

She lit the candles with a wave of her hand, then began the process of setting the scene the way she’d need to for her own work, in addition to tapping into that of others. Once ready, she considered the incantation the twins had used…then shook her head. Everything was about intention – she’d learned. If she just tried to mimic what worked for Don and Mac but it didn’t align with her intentions, it wasn’t going to work.

Still, her lyrics and poems she’d used so many times with Enid just felt…overplayed. They needed something fresh.

Closing her eyes, Wednesday skipped an intro with ornate prose; she visualized the storm cloud of the mind – then…

Like popping into a cartoon world, Wednesday felt herself in a separate dimension. Enid’s beautiful brain was so alive as always – but there was for sure, a part that wasn’t as lit up as the rest. She frowned, and it gave a little glow – Enid was thinking on the memory as directed. Wednesday recalled what she knew about the twins’ power – how they said that feelings were like little whisps attached to the memory that they could withdraw. They would feel it themselves, but because they had no memory attached to the event –

Oh.

Well…Wednesday did in fact have a memory attached to the event, and it tortured her just as often, the image of Enid, bare in the coffin – bleeding, arm twisted, back out of place –

It probably wouldn’t do her any good to take on Enid’s feelings of the memory – then she’d be the one trying to comfort Wednesday in the middle of the night, and Wednesday would make that significantly more difficult for her.

She almost left, before considering something else.

Approaching the active part of her mind, Wednesday looked down at herself – though the shift in time-space made her look extremely disproportionate, she still had on the sunflower necklace that her mother had put on her, having refused to take it off for bed with no sense as to why.

Finding the reason, she lifted it up, pressing the sunflower to the part of Enid’s brain that was responsible for replaying of the traumatic event. “I might not be able to take away your feeling, as I hoped. I might not be able to remove the memory. But – I implore you to start to let the pain recede. That’s probably the pot calling the kettle black…of course – all my kettles are black.” She sighed. “Find the light, Enid. You, you are the light. But I know you can let it shine again, and this dark will start to fade. The skies will clear, and you will be standing tall, like the sunflower, tracking it once more.”

She retreated Enid’s mind, finding herself in her girlfriend’s lap, who opened her eyes at the same time as she did. She narrowed them a little, a skeptical look about her. “That didn’t feel quite like the twins.”

“No. I didn’t accomplish the same thing. I actually stopped and thought about the long-term consequences of something before I engaged in it.” Enid blinked, trying to understand what that meant and Wednesday added, “I’m surprised, too.”

“But…something – you did something,” She almost smiled. “What did you put in my head, hm?”

“A wish,” She replied honestly, “That you would find the light in the dark. You’re my light, and I can see that there are parts of you that have been forced to fade. But I left a sincere hope for your mind to find a way to connect to it again, soon. Also, we need some new music to listen to. I couldn’t bring myself to use that Harry Styles song one more time.”

“Oh! New playlist challenge unlocked!” Enid squeezed her hips. “That will be like, the perfect thing to do when I’m waiting between my classes and on the Metro!”

Wednesday hugged her loosely, leaning against her chest. Enid played with the charm she had on, letting her know, “That Fine Line album does have a song called Sunflower, you know.”

She shrugged, “I’m thinking we explore a new artist. Maybe a female, this time. But I maintain my one very firm regulation - none of that Taylor Swift propaganda on our shared playlists, you hear me?”

Enid giggled, rolling her eyes. “I know the rules, Wednesday. No KPop, no Taylor. So long as you don’t put any super depressing cello compositions on there, we’ve both held up our end of the deal. Hey, we should try to get back to bed, yeah? You’ve got to finish your paper tomorrow and I have so much dialogue to memorize!”

Agreeing, Wednesday withdrew the flames from the candles as Enid adjusted the pillows and blankets on their bed. Augustus stuck his head out of his enclosure, sensing the racket. Wednesday smirked and stroked his cheek. “Sorry, buddy. Go back to sleep. We’ve got a few hours until wakeup time.”

He didn’t argue as he tucked back into the cool side of his substrate and Wednesday honestly – could’ve done the same. Thinking it was a little stuffy in the room, she turned on a fan and pointed it at the bed before climbing into it, rolling Enid onto her side and holding her tight. She kissed her neck, then her shoulders, and slid her hand just up the pajama top she wore to rest on her belly. Enid let out a contented little sound, and Wednesday hoped they both woke up and were able to feel the light.

Wednesday was letting her keys fly across the keyboard as she wrote the conclusion to her essay when Enid appeared in the tower library, passing over a small plate with a snack. “It’s two o’clock,” She said quietly.

Thanking her, Wednesday selected the fruit pouch that would give her the exact amount of sugar she required, not wanting a distraction. “I’ll be finished in less than fifteen minutes if you can let me…?”

“Of course!”

Enid sat down at the desk across from hers, opening one of her notebooks, adding a few doodles as she waited, humming to herself a little. Wednesday finished her last sentence, just needing to read over the part she’d added since last examining her work, when she glanced up at Enid over her laptop.

Her hair was down and curls tamed – she hadn’t been outside yet that day. She had on a pink pair of overalls with a cropped purple top underneath, just a sliver of her belly visible on the sides. A touch of shimmer was on her eyelids as she’d had a virtual session with the residence hall director that she’d be staying with just after their family celebrations were over. Her gaze was soft – she was focused on whatever little drawing she was making, her lips parted just a touch.

She was so beautiful.

Wednesday snapped out of it, finishing her read-through quickly, fixing a small syntax error before uploading the document to Canvas and hoping for the best. She had more important and pressing things than homework that afternoon.

Leaning forward, she saw sweet little doodles of Augustus in various hats, including a flower crown, “Are you going to make him one for the solstice?” Wednesday wondered, tapping to it with a black-tipped nail.

Enid let out a familiar giggle, pushing the plate of cheese and crackers closer to her so she’d eat something solid in addition to the fruit puree she’d put down. “Of course! Hey, does Emi celebrate the solstice? Do Altair and Piper know they should be asking for flower crowns as well?”

“Emiliana doesn’t usually know the day, so – her traditions aren’t often tethered to the Wheel of the Year the way the Frumps have held tightly to over the years.”

“Hm – a little sad, I feel like silly special days would totally be her thing. Well, I like your traditions.”

“Our,” Wednesday corrected her pronoun. “Speaking of traditions…you have some hours yet, but have you decided what you’re going to do tonight?”

She watched Enid visibly swallow and sit up straighter, closing her notebook. She pulled her hands together seriously and looked at Wednesday with resolve. “I took the potion already.”

“Okay,” Wednesday nodded. “We’ll still have steak for dinner – you’ll probably still feel the moon’s pull, like last time. I propose, we set up an outside sleepover under the moon on the balcony?”

That made Enid smile, though she dared to ask, “You’re not…frustrated, with me?”

Having a feeling she knew where the conversation was headed, Wednesday shook her head and took her hand to sit on the little bench by the window, pushing it open on the summer afternoon. “I’m not the slightest frustrated. Perhaps, concerned – that you’re going into month three of this, and undoubtably, you will be taking it on the next moon when you’re away and in the big city as well. As I indicated last night during dinner, I simply hope you are still able to connect is all.”

Enid played with her fingers. “I am deeply connected to my pack,” She promised, kissing Wednesday’s knuckles. “I feel all that cozy warmth that werewolves are supposed to, with you. I know I have this beautiful beast within me. And I really like that I have control over when I let her out.”

Wednesday pulled her into a hug, sighing as she held onto her. “Being part of your pack is the best part of my life. I look forward to running with you again, someday under the moon. Until then – we can engage with a tender embrace beneath the glow of it, too.”

Which was exactly how Gomez and Morticia found the girls, just after ten o’clock in the evening. Usually Enid would’ve been gearing up to transform if she hadn’t already (probably not so early in the summer). Instead, they’d pulled a sleeping roll from the camping supplies out in the shed that Wednesday liked to do her taxidermy in near the orchards; they set it up full of their pillows and blankets, had snacks, music, and Enid’s laptop geared up to watch an old, classic Werewolf slasher romance before they’d fall asleep.

“What a beautiful display,” Gomez said quietly, tucking into his wife. “It reminds me of ’95 – out in the Mojave, you remember, Tish?”

“Oh, how could I forget? How we drank in those stars.”

“I drank in far more than the stars that night, cara mia-”

“Do you have anything that won’t make me sick to my stomach to add?” Wednesday grumbled while Enid giggled, sitting up a little from where she’d had her head on Wednesday’s lap.

“We just wanted to check on you – make sure you didn’t need anything,” Morticia started, gently brushing her husband off, despite the sound of loss he let out as she squatted down near Enid, smoothing the hair on the back of her head. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

Enid smiled, hugging her tightly around the shoulders. “This is plenty,” She promised, pulling away and Morticia held out her hand, Gomez dropped something within it.

“Well, I can’t let you go without a blessing on the moon,” Morticia took an oil and smiled, “According to Larissa, who called me this evening regarding other matters, there will be a meeting of the New Network representatives and the Werewolf council, for the first time in over half a century, in October, just before the Hunter’s moon. We’ll be back from Australia by then, and we will make sure, however you decide to represent yourself, we are there for you.”

Enid had a tepid little wobble of her lip but bucked up into a smile and a nod. “I know you will. That gives me plenty of time to prepare.” She glanced at Wednesday. “The next steps for me, I guess – other than returning to letting my wolf out, would be to learn about the traditional structure of the Council and the Clans. I admit, I’m pretty ignorant on that front.”

Wednesday gave an assuring nod. “I will begin to conduct research for you. Thank you for the insider information, mother. I’m sure you had been sworn to secrecy.”

“I know what secrets are important to keep, and which are okay to let slip my lips,” She winked. “Alright, sweet girl, our mighty wolf. Gomez, the Lyre?”

He produced a small, stringed instrument and Morticia nodded at Wednesday to pause the music on Enid’s phone. “As you girls well know, music brings us all together in a special way. There is a song, my grandmother used to sing on full moons in the summer months, asking for bountiful growth over the crops that the family was toiling. While you are experiencing a different sort of growth, I find it no less fitting. My love?”

Gomez began to play the small harp. Morticia used her oil, drawing an old symbol of growth, Wednesday was sure as she watched her thumb move, softly singing an ancient tongue before translating it while her father continued to play. “May she give, may she give – may she provide, may she provide. May she grow in earnest, to give us all the steadfast assurance we require.”

Enid had tears in her eyes but didn’t shed them as she hugged Morticia again, and Gomez put the instrument down, kneeling beside the girls, drawing Wednesday into the hug as well. “You are our most mighty wolf, no matter how you choose to present yourself. You are brave and bold and you know your own needs. Tonight – a night under the moon and the stars, with the star of my life. Please, take care of one another girls, protect your pack. We’re going to spend the night…downstairs, if you need us.”

“You might want to knock on the playroom door first, darlings.” Morticia winked and Wednesday let out a retching sound as they disappeared.

Clear of her parents’ oppressive nature, Wednesday sighed and flopped back on their impromptu bed, thinking, “I sort of miss testing the limits of the pain I can withstand. I might spend more time in the playroom while you’re away living your theatrical dreams.”

“You know,” Enid climbed on top of her lap, a leg on either side of her hips and a wicked little twisted expression. “I’m not averse to trying something extra fun with you sometime. Wolves are badass, right? That’s got to include being able to tolerate something sharp.”

Wednesday flushed but raised a brow. “You think you can stand being stretched and pulled and hot?”

“That’s so dirty,” Enid said with a laugh. “And come on, Wednesday, you know I’m always up for a challenge or a competition. Besides, I think after what I went through? Those devices in your basem*nt could hardly get the best of me.”

“I get the best of you every day,” Wednesday spoke earnestly and she swooned playfully, snuggling into her neck. “Can we watch our movie now? Speaking of torture – the dialogue is horrific. The acting is atrocious. I hope you love every second of it.”

As they got set up again properly under the moon, Wednesday held Enid to her chest as they lazily laid under the bright of the cosmos that night.

They had a long way to go – Enid and Wednesday. Wednesday really wanted her girlfriend to be able to tune back into the part of herself that it seemed, on the outside, she was disconnected to. But as she considered – Enid’s understanding of her Werewolf culture was largely about togetherness and pack life, and being there for one another as a collective, rather than individuals, maybe Enid not transforming by herself was more in line with those values than Wednesday originally thought.

X

The summer solstice had always been less of a beloved tradition to Wednesday. For most of her life, she preferred the winter, welcoming the darkest night of the year…though after experiencing so much darkness of her own, perhaps, her attitude would shift slightly as she prepared for the longest day. As Morticia placed a flower crown on Enid’s head at breakfast, Wednesday decided that as it called for, to try entering the new season with a bit more optimism (for as long as it would last, anyway).

The arrival of extended family could be both welcome and overwhelming, but the event mid-June was far more subdued than December. Typically, only Frumps celebrated the new season in ceremony, and as only Morticia’s uncle arrived with the twins a few years younger than Wednesday, she found that she was more on the ‘happy to see’ side of the spectrum than her mixed emotions would usually allow for.

She hadn’t spoken to Catastrophia and Melancholia since everything happened with Quinton Bridger, but was sure they were aware of the details of events with the narrative the Network had given. Having a feeling she was going to be accosted with questions once they were gathered in the safe space of her tower, Wednesday steeled herself for simple and direct answers, focused on the truth, rather than the feelings of the events.

The twins came in matching cream and gray colored dresses around noon, with baby’s breath woven in dark braids. Wednesday had accepted her mother’s sunflower charm again, but otherwise, no one might’ve thought she was dressed for any sort of celebration. She glanced at Cat and Mel curiously as it seemed they’d grown about two inches since she last saw them and stood almost half of one above her. Crossing her arms a little, Wednesday hid just a bit behind Enid, who enveloped the girls in warm hugs, greeting the psychic-inclined teens excitedly. “You have to tell me all about the new music you’ve been listening to lately! I have so many suggestions – of course, you’re like, so much further in deep than I am, you might’ve already heard anything I have –“

“We’ve been enjoying our music with a little less enthusiasm these days,” Mel said dramatically. “Mother and father caught us in our attempt to leave the country without them and we have had all electronic devices confiscated…that they know about,” She mumbled. Wednesday stared at her Uncle Tic looking like he was already going to be living up to his namesake with his sister while her granny bickered with him. Unsurprising to Wednesday, her Aunt Phobia had elected not to leave the house. “It’s all about subtlety. Thankfully they thought that locking the WiFi meant putting an actual padlock on the router so – once they leave us alone to our ‘punishment’ for the night we can at least get on our old computer. It’s full of Cat’s twelve-year-old fanfiction.”

Cat flushed, giving her sister a shove. Enid started sharing about Divina’s KPop stories with them, and Wednesday figured she’d lost all three to discussions of music she couldn’t stand to listen to for the time being.

Sneaking closer to the adults, she tried weasel her way into discovering the contents of the conversation, but Morticia put an arm around her daughter with a huff, leading her down the hall to her study, looking almost furious.

About to go on the defensive, Wednesday tried to explain that she hadn’t done anything, but her mother already seemed aware. She took a few deep breaths and calmed herself by pacing before asking harshly, “Have you spoken to anyone from the Frump side, about how things truly ended with Quinton?”

Furrowing her brow, Wednesday shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to anyone outside of our circle, the authorities that next night, and the Nightshades since it occurred. Unless you count my forced discussion participation in my college classes, and we don’t exactly talk Outcast shop on Canvas.”

Her mother went from angry to nearly fuming. “Then somebody else told him. There’s a mole in the Network!”

“Or he just knows me well enough to realize that there was no way Larissa Weems committed a gruesome stabbing while I was the only other person in the room,” She deadpanned, trying to downplay the situation.

“Either way,” She turned around with a watery sort of fire in her eyes. “He claims, suddenly – that he’s not comfortable leaving the girls here and only barely wanted to visit at all.”

Feeling her stomach flop at that, but not letting it show on her face, Wednesday gave a shrug. “Shouldn’t he be more comfortable, knowing I would protect them from anything?”

“Wednesday, this isn’t a joke!” Morticia nearly roared and at that, she blinked once, trying not to be terribly caught off-guard by the harsh tone. She knew her mother wasn’t angry with her, per say, but…

“I can’t control what other people think about me.”

“But you can control your tongue,” Morticia said sternly. “I want not one word of -”

“I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not to make someone else more comfortable.” Narrowing her eyes, Wednesday let her hands ball into fists, feeling like she was due for a good verbal sparring match with her mother – they’d been far too reasonable with one another since she first required hospitalization the year before.

At that, Morticia’s face softened just slightly. “I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m asking you to please, monitor your conversation around your uncle. You don’t have to censor yourself, but maybe hold off on the sarcasm a bit so that he’s not so susceptible to thinking you’re…”

“That I’m what? Violent?” Wednesday couldn’t help the twinges of annoyance that were rising into flares.

Her mother looked about ready to let out her tears. “You know that I don’t think what you did constitutes an act of violence. It was an act of necessity, and the world is a better place because you did what was required. However, you know not everyone sees it that way – Larissa knew that would be the case, and she did what she felt was required to ensure that you would be publicly spared from the consequences of this action. Maybe, that act could have extended to privately as well – if your family wasn’t going to trust you.” Morticia turned around, clearly unable to say anything else.

Wednesday paused, sure she wasn’t reading into the situation when she spoke next. “Let me guess; Uncle Tic didn’t believe it was father who killed Garrett Gates. He knew it was you.”

Seeing the way her mother’s shoulders pinched made Wednesday sure she was correct in her assumption. Dropping her anger at her mother and recognizing a familiar pain within her, Wednesday shuffled across the rug. She hovered behind Morticia and she asked in a quiet tone, “What did he think of you?”

When her mother didn’t move, Wednesday decided to find out for herself, sensing what would happen if she touched her.

Sure enough, putting both arms around her mother’s waist was like live wire, and she gripped tighter before gasping. She was hopeful that her mother’s hands would clench Wednesday’s own around her as she blacked out into a vision.

Wishing it was a memory, to have her mother’s interpretation of events in black and white, rather than the full-color view from the universe, Wednesday watched in her hovering sort of way as seventeen-year-old Morticia Frump observed as Gomez was physically placed into the back of an early 90s Ford police car. When an officer held her wrists, she yanked them away with a dramatic heave of a grunt. It was like everything had been a show until that moment, when Morticia recognized the reality of the situation in front of her and let out a blubbered cry of, “Gomez!”

A scuffle occurred and Morticia was nearly put in handcuffs herself as she struggled against the police before Nevermore staff pulled her off and back to their custody; Wednesday recognized the administrator and the student that was taller than himself, lingering behind him.

Larissa Weems looked a combination of exhausted and deeply annoyed in a gold outfit, a waste of a fabulous trench coat that she didn’t even get to show off. “Morticia, let’s go,” She said curtly as she struggled to breathe and keep herself upright, calling out for Gomez. “These theatrics are highly unnecessary.”

Morticia tried to look at her with scalding eyes, but tears just spilled over and she tried to put a hand on Larissa to make her understand…something, but they were trembling too hard. A familiar sort of gentleness took over the irritation in Larissa’s gaze. As Nevermore’s administrator tried to get himself between them to escort her back to her room, Larissa shook her head and put a hand on her shoulder. The former principal explained, “I’ve gotten a hold of the Addams family – Gomez’s parents will be coming with a family lawyer. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get a hold of yours, Morticia.”

She cried and Larissa shook her head. “We’ll keep trying,” She sighed, “It’s the spring equinox, Ms. Frump is likely on the other side right now, if memory serves. I’ll get Morticia to her room and see to it that she rests. Thank you, principal – we’ll be in touch in the morning.”

With that, always in charge, even back then, Larissa shifted the hand on Morticia’s shoulder to the small of her back, pushing her forward. The vision flashed and Larissa was sitting Morticia down in her tall-backed wicker chair, while another familiar face appeared in the doorway. Larissa’s features changed to delight for just a moment, and she smiled at the sight of a fifteen-year-old Holly Gallor entering the room with a glass of water. “Thank you, darling.”

Holly lingered while Larissa passed it over to Morticia, who couldn’t drink as she hyperventilated. Larissa let out a long sigh again, likely knowing she just had to let the moment pass. Holly whispered something to her and she nodded, then Holly took a black and red quilt off the edge of Morticia’s bed, draping it over her shoulders. At the feeling, she blinked a few times rapidly, then stared up at Larissa before bursting into tears again, leaning down and falling into her hold after Holly took the glass back into her hand.

Larissa didn’t look overly thrilled to be giving her sobbing, teenage mother a long embrace – but Wednesday could see her actively putting all the old, resented feelings behind her. “Gomez didn’t do it, did he?” She shook her head against Larissa’s shoulder. She looked up at Holly, then held onto Morticia a little bit tighter; Larissa made the connection then – it hadn’t been a stupid duel for Morticia’s affections, but Morticia protecting herself from certain death by her stalker. “Come on, drink,” She insisted after hugging her for too long.

Morticia pulled away, black mascara stains down her cheeks, face blotchy from tears. She sobbed a little before nodding towards the glass, drinking it before frowning. “If…if they had…if they had just…listened to me!”

“The security guards around this place obviously weren’t taking their job very seriously tonight,” Larissa cleared her throat. “That boy shouldn’t have been able to make it on campus.”

Morticia looked small, curling into herself while pushed up near the end of her bed, tugging her blanket over her shoulders. “I want my mother,” She said in a choked voice.

“Believe me, I understand,” Larissa said quietly. Holly knelt beside her, looking awkward in a pair of wide-legged dark green pants and burgundy top tucked into it. “Holly, too. Sometimes, a girl just needs her mother.”

“Particularly after her first murder,” Morticia sobbed into her hands.

“Don’t say that out loud, Morticia,” Larissa said with her teeth gritted in a near hiss of a tone. “Do not say that out loud! Do not incriminate yourself for a crime that someone else is taking the fall for!”

She wiped her cheek and stared at her, trying to make sense of it all. “How…how are you – you…who…rule-following…okay with this?”

“I admit – I was hasty with my judgement at first tonight. But I now recognize, fully, what’s happened. I am…I am not sure what else could have been done. Tonight could have been prevented, if the adults whom we are supposed to put our trust in had simply done their jobs correctly. How many times have we reported Garret for stalking?” At his name, Morticia flinched. Larissa softened her gaze. “I don’t know the details. I don’t want the details. And as deranged as I generally find you, I know you’re not unusually outright cruel or vindictive.” She shook her head. “I’m sure you had a reason for doing what you did. I’m confident, it was justified – and frankly…now…” She let out a long breath. “He can never make you feel vulnerable again. Gomez is one of the smartest people I know. His family has endless resources. He’ll find a way out of this, I’m certain. You, likely would not have had such luck, based on how none has been yours in this entire time.”

Morticia stared at her hard, “I need…I need –“

“I’m not here to comfort you, Morticia,” Larissa made clear. “You’ve made your choices, and unfortunately, you simply have to live with them. But…I don’t think it was the wrong choice. I think it was the one that was all you could do in the moment. I do not believe what led to tonight was your fault, much as I might’ve misspoken previously on that point.” There was a small flash in her eyes and she sighed. “I’ll try to ring your mother again.”

The vision flashed forward to Morticia falling into Hester Frump’s arms – they were on the old Frump property, and her mother was obviously very much supportive of having her there as she cried into her shoulder. Gomez stood morosely on the front porch – obviously torn between supporting his girlfriend and letting her mother do the job.

They were inside in the next instance, with Morticia sitting numbly beside her mother, staring straight ahead while she cupped the side of her face, and Gomez sat in front of her, holding her hand, trying to get her to talk.

That was when a -tilch of a sound broke the room of the mood. Hester’s brother entered, a sneer on as he stared at the scene. “We’re coddling murderers now, are we?”

Hester was on her feet almost immediately. “You will not call my daughter a murderer!”

“One who kills another is, are they not?” Uncle Tic crossed his arms. “And here she is, being sweet-talked to like a child, rather than behind bars!”

“Where is this coming from?” Hester roared.

“Our family has managed to be on the right side of the law for generations! Despite everything, we’ve played fair! The Frumps have used the gifts given to us in countless ways. There were dozens of ways Morticia could’ve changed the course of her night – instead, she chose to be a killer! Not surprising, given whom she’s decided to align herself with these days,” He glared at Gomez, who stared in shock.

At that, Morticia stood up and walked outside, ignoring the call of the rest of the family besides her uncle.

Wednesday sat up from the floor, her bangs a little sweaty from the emotional intensity of the vision, even if she hadn’t actually seen her mother committing the act in the past. Based on personal experience, she knew – the real fallout of a murder started as soon as it was over. Morticia was trying to pass her water, but Wednesday just leaned against her instead. “Frump traditions may not be violent like the Addams family ways, but I have father’s name for a reason. Uncle Tic should keep himself silent about matters he knows nothing about. And at the top of the list, would be both his niece and his great niece, whom he only sees twice a year and hasn’t bothered to spend more than five minutes doing anything but passing judgement on them every time he does.”

At that, Morticia found a small smile. “Will you bully him into letting Cat and Mel stay for some much-needed meditation, darling?”

“How many sharp objects am I allowed to use?”

“I think your tongue will suffice, for a verbal lashing over our solstice supper. I’m sorry I asked you to keep it in check – when really, I just meant for you to practice poise instead of poison with your temperament. What do you think?”

“Boring,” Wednesday replied and rolled her eyes. “But appropriate. If I’m trying to prove to Uncle Tic that I will not violently end his twin daughters’ lives, I suppose not maiming him would be a decent start.”

Morticia suggested, “Shall we go practice for your competition with your brother, to let out your need to obliterate something before I stick you on our uncle?”

“I don’t feel the need to practice. And I know how to make him tick,” Wednesday smirked. She took the water her mother wanted her to drink before accepting her hand on the small of her back and leaning forward in a hug. “I refuse to believe we are the first in our lineage to have to kill for necessity. I would like to consult the Frump family tomes sometime.”

Ruffling her bangs just a little to fluff them up, Morticia promised her. “The last thing you need is another research project this summer.”

She almost wished she’d brushed up on her research several hours later, however, when the formal solstice supper spread was out on the table. As Enid whispered her questions, Wednesday found she had to tap deep into her memories to call on the symbols before them. Thankfully, as her mother stepped up in a rare move to the head of the table that night, she wouldn’t have to wait long for a more eloquent version of why things were as such, when the seldom-seen Professor Morticia Addams delivered a beautiful lecture to the girls who were new to the traditions before them.

Her granny was between the twins opposite Enid and Wednesday, and she assumed that her father would take her mother’s left, but she found herself surprised when he opened his palm and extended the seat to his biological daughter, taking space between each of his girls. Pugsley, Thing on his shoulder, her Uncle Tic, and grandmama filled out the end of the table, and just as Morticia made to open her mouth, she lifted a finger and smiled quietly, opening the window when a wide ball of bumbling black fabrics tumbled in from an unseen source.

“Uncle Fester?” Wednesday questioned, coming close with a smile.

“Hey, kiddo! Happy Summer Solstice! Sorry I’m late – I got caught up in a summer storm in the tornado belt – but it blew me all the way here like Dorothy in Oz!”

Wondering exactly where he’d been and what he’d been up to since she’d last seen her father’s brother during the horrible events in the spring when he’d run off from the police, Wednesday took his arm and led him to the table with eyes that assured him, she was glad he was there.

“We welcome summer,” Morticia began when Wednesday returned to her side, offering her a wink. “With mead and wildflowers, with gratitude and fire. Wednesday, do us the honors?”

She lifted her hand, lighting the black and white candles on the table with ease and an intention to ignite the start of the season. “Litha, the gathering season – we invoke before us today. As the wheel of the year turns, summer arrives, regardless of our intentions. But as we set them, clear and specific, we may receive more than nature would grant us. Already, we have been blessed with such abundance, but we continue to make a plea to the universe to provide for us, all that it is we will require in the year to come. For generations, the Frump family found purpose – sustaining life through the bounty that only the warmth and sun of summer can bring. We are no longer in need the way we once were for so many centuries; we have become fortunate here in the modern times. But tonight, we seek to reconnect to our roots, and never forget where we came from, and what the yields of the earth, toiled through our labor, can provide.”

Looking up at her mother with sincerity, Wednesday almost wanted to be pulled in tight to her chest and embraced. She tilted her head in question as Morticia made to speak a spell and a blessing, but Wednesday wondered first, “Before we bless the spread, might I say a few words to invoke meaning of my own for the summer?”

Her mother’s toothless smile of sincerity and open arms just the way she was hoping gave Wednesday permission to come to her. Morticia wrapped a hand over her shoulder and Wednesday folded one behind her back. She took a breath and added her voice to speak intentions prior to the traditional evening meal. Thinking about what she did know of the symbols and how they were used, she professed a desire to utilize them in her own practice. “The spring was a call to action. I anticipate the summer being a time of deep reflection upon the actions I was required to take. I cannot enter this season as the same person I am as spring formally ends.”

She blinked, feeling a tightness in her throat. It was not for her Uncle Tic she was speaking, but words she wanted to profess to herself, with her most precious loved ones holding her accountable to them. Morticia squeezed her, putting a kiss to the top of her head. Letting it encourage the lump to remain within her chest instead of expelling in a pool of emotion, Wednesday stayed strong and suppressed the odd threat of tears that suddenly wanted to appear. “I must vow to continue to grow in knowledge, and in discipline. I must ask of the summer light, for long summer nights – where I can find wisdom. As I physically gather the fruit of the season, I will consider what it is I place in each of the baskets in my life.” Wednesday let her gaze flicker to Enid, who was staring at her with shiny, wet eyes and her hands folded together near her chest. “I invoke the symbols of the solstice. I seek light – from the sunflowers. I seek renewal – from the fire. I seek endurance – from the oak.”

Swallowing thickly, she avoided biting emotion away physically by resisting the urge to clamp down on her cheek or her lip. She looked at the rest of her family, finding a curious expression on Pugsley’s face, probably wondering if he was supposed to say something as well. Her grandmama looked a little bored – like she was going through the motions of her daughter-in-law’s side of the family as expected and wanted it moved along so she could retire for the evening. Fester was practically drooling at the rack of lamb that was waiting to be eaten, also not exactly inspired by the traditions. Her father had a sheen of tears, waiting to be released in pride, always – feeling too much for his children. Her cousins were listening, but clearly didn’t understand the gravity of what Wednesday was asking. Her Uncle Tic…

…His look of disbelief at his great niece also held strong suspicion.

Feeling the need to try to clear that up for herself before going after him, Wednesday explained further, “I committed acts this spring that will no doubt be contested. I do not regret the path that I was forced to take. We all have to make decisions that we will have to live with for the rest of our lives, in one way – or another. I only ask of the new season, for the fresh start that each claim to bring. I must enter this summer seeking light, not only from the universe, but within myself, and from all those who love me, despite what I have done.”

Her mother pulled her flush to her chest then, emotion high in her voice as she made a solstice promise. “You will be cloaked in light, my darling girl. After doing what was necessary this spring – after taking up violence only as the absolute last resort, you have been tortured, and not in the way you enjoy. The mental anguish you have put yourself through, I would not wish on my own worst enemy. We have seen your struggle. We are here to share your burden, Wednesday. We enter this season with hope,” She whispered, and Wednesday felt the tears trailing from her cheeks to the top of her head – three perfect drops of blessing, landing on her crown. “We will be bathed in the light of summer, as we use our traditions and blaze new paths forward to find respite and answers for you, and our community.”

She held Wednesday tightly with one arm, lifting her other hand and speaking a blessing of an old tongue, which Wednesday quickly internalized – knowing one day, it would be her incredible responsibility to ensure the traditions carried on. She held onto her mother as she asked for the summer to provide all it was they asked for and desperately needed.

X

It was nearing eight o’clock in the still-bright sky of the evening. After the start of the summer feast and her cousins asking dozens of questions about things at Nevermore, which Enid mostly answered for them along with Morticia, as she’d been on the campus since the start of February, the family moved outside. Games were played together as her grandmama and Lurch set up the promised competition between Wednesday and her brother. As she observed from a distance while Enid, Cat and Mel started an activity of old with string and flowers that Morticia taught them, Fester nearly got the best of Wednesday, who just wasn’t as well-prepared for anything those days as she should have been.

She nearly lost a hand to his unsuspecting blade, producing one from her shoe at the last split-second, so small she didn’t have the necessary hold on the handle to use it as defensively as she usually would have. Instead, she used the pressure of the two pieces of steel meeting to push off of into a backflip and pulling a dirty move of holding it very close to Fester’s family jewels as she landed, making him laugh. “I nearly got you, niece! We’re going to have to brush you up on your reflexes if you’re going to take Nevermore into the fencing championship title this year.”

“I couldn’t possibly care any less than I presently do about a trophy,” She answered demurely, looking at her knife with a near wince, thinking about how Josie had mentioned her surprise that she was still carrying one around after everything. She tucked it back into her boot, glaring at Fester. “After all I have seen, I can’t spend my time with such trivialities as high school sports.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, snorting. “If you don’t live a little, what’s the point in all the hard work you’re putting in these days?” Fester whirled around twice, looking like a dog failing spectacularly at catching its own tail, “Isn’t there usually a half-butchered hand following you around?”

“Thing’s location at any given time is an ongoing mystery in my life,” Wednesday grumbled, thinking that he needed an AirTag to be tracked more than she did. “He’s more often with Pugsley since he started at Nevermore.”

“Ah, well, the guy does like to have fun, and since you’re clearly not up for games anymore, I can hardly blame him.” Fester let out a long sigh through his nose, electricity crackling out he did so. “I can’t even electrocute you to perk you up anymore, Wednesday! So much has changed.”

“I didn’t ask for this, Fester,” Wednesday growled, not bothering with the title of honor that denoted his position within her family.

“It’s strange,” Fester mused, ignoring her comment. “I used to think of myself as the black sheep. And I don’t come around often – so I thought excluding myself made that true. But it seems that you’re the one who really doesn’t fit in anymore.”

“Why are you saying this?” Wednesday practically shouted, feeling her blood pressure rise with her anger.

Fester spun his long dagger around in his hand, flipping and catching it precariously. “Maybe I’m just trying to rile you up. Maybe I’m trying to get you to remember who you are at the core of you. Surely, your bad streak of luck can’t change who you are in your very essence, can it?”

“I wouldn’t call being stalked by one of the most dangerous men in the world to be manipulated and used for my power and having to kill him as a last resort, a bad streak of luck.”

“It sounds like sloppy writing, to be honest,” Fester shrugged. “When did you become a cliché?”

Recognizing that he was, in fact trying to get her going – help her tap into her old disposition, Wednesday refused to let him. Fester wanted his niece back – the one who would throw firecrackers into the lake to awaken the monster at the bottom of it and put out her mother’s blazing solstice fire. He missed the girl who was willing to stand outside in the middle of a thunderstorm and hold up bird roofing spikes to try and learn to be a conduit for electricity like himself. He yearned for the tiny relative who would ride shotgun in a minecart through an abandoned, desert cavern, in hope to locate bioluminescent cave dwelling creatures.

And Wednesday could still be that girl – she knew, she could someday find her fun and whimsy…but how she spent her time anymore was so drastically different than it used to be. The way she attempted to solve problems had to change if she was determined to have the future that her visions promised her. She couldn’t simply start a dumpster fire behind a restaurant who’d denied her family service for their perceived trouble due to their appearance. She wouldn’t send an army of paper-eating moths into the shop of a bookkeeper who said that her desired reading was grotesque or disturbing. Wednesday wouldn’t even passive aggressively replace menu papers with crime scene photos at a café where the barista refused to give a teenager four shots of espresso.

If that made her a disappointment to the Addams family…

She walked away from Fester, up to the back porch, sitting in a meditative position and forcing herself to breathe without slipping into the ether (she really didn’t think she could tolerate another interaction with Goody Addams either). Taking centering breaths, she tried to consider the juxtaposition between the person she’d always been, who she had been forced to be that spring, and what she’d asked the universe for with her mother as she welcomed summer.

Floating in the space between the physical world and the next for a good amount of time longer than she expected, Wednesday found herself pulled from it with a kiss. Enid knelt in front of her, tilting her head. “What happened?”

Wednesday stared into worried, blue eyes. She shrugged, hooking her arms over Enid’s shoulders, thinking she should’ve had a heck of a lot more of her granny’s homemade mead than she had. She could’ve been too drunk to participate in the upcoming evening activities, and simply make out with Enid up in their tower instead. “I’m having a personality crisis is all,” Wednesday confessed.

Enid sat down beside her, holding her hand, curling an arm over her back and snuggling her sweetly. “You know…you were like this during the winter solstice, too. I think…much as you love them, your extended family kind of falls into the ‘relatives who drive you crazy’ trope.”

Letting out a puff of air at the truth of that, Wednesday shrugged. “They don’t know me,” She said quietly. “They remember the girl they saw growing up. They are aware of what I have been through, but they weren’t there for it. They don’t know how to merge the two together.”

Enid was a supportive presence, but didn’t offer her more than that. How could she? Her immediate family had treated her far worse than Wednesday’s extended family. They might’ve frustrated her – but it was only because they loved her so much. They were worried, that she was changing so much. Her Uncle Tic and Uncle Fester were actually on opposite ends of the spectrum, completely concerned about her for separate reasons.

“Not to make this about everyone else,” Enid started after a few minutes of quiet, “But Pugsley is going to be really disappointed if you default to him and allow him to be the victor of your promised competition rematch without at least putting in the effort to take him on. Won’t you? For your brother?”

Thinking it was the least she could do to prove she was still part of the infamous family, Wednesday agreed. Offering a nod, she kissed Enid’s cheek. “I’d like to get through it, then over-indulge in the mead with you around mother’s fire while she tells us stories of lore and plays her shamisen.”

“I think that’s the perfect solstice plan.”

Enid initiated a long kiss that was interrupted by the sigh of their father. Wednesday pulled away with a half-annoyed, raised brow, staring at Gomez who had another weepy look on his face. “Your love gives me all the inspiration I need for our new season,” He said with wistful energy.

Giggling, Enid let go of Wednesday and charged into his hold, where Gomez scooped her up and held her tightly while she kept her arms around his neck. Wednesday just watched with quiet gratitude.

She followed them to the main event of the evening before the roaring bonfire. Pugsley was warming himself up obnoxiously, bending over, unable to touch his toes but putting on a real good show of being prepared to show off and win. Not sure if she would let him or genuinely lose yet, Wednesday saw Fester whispering to her Uncle Tic, feeling a small flare within her at the sight as he rolled his eyes and whispered back. Confident that they were talking about her, Wednesday growled, feeling that swell of anger that had been tapped by Fester’s poorly timed comments burst through her again as she picked up her bow, glaring at them, rather than the target, and shooting an arrow into the dead center to make a point.

It quieted the assembly of family. Grandmama rolled her eyes. “We haven’t started yet, impatient girl – you’ve hardly been practicing, and now you’re suddenly more than ready?”

“I didn’t have anything to prove before,” She said with a quiet co*ckiness. Pugsley simply retrieved the arrow for her, placing it back and giving her a smile that she knew was real.

Her grandmama paced and spoke the reason for the competition and the rules. “As sister and brother, you once had such a gap of ability between you. Pugsley was hardly fair competition for you, Wednesday. But as he has grown and matured, he has successfully caught up with many of your skills. While your levels of expertise vary across subjects, I suspect you may always be in competition with one another for sharpest shot in the family. The winner of this competition merely holds bragging rights – but I do believe it will signify a slight change in motivation as we enter the new season. You will be judged on five rounds if it is required. Archery, knife throwing, log splitting, seek and retrieval, and…a surprise, if we get to that point.” Grandmama’s expression was practically evil and honestly – Wednesday was ready to give it her all just to see what on earth that surprise could possibly be.

She described how she was judging the first round, and then it was go time. Pugsley and Wednesday were both expected to shoot three arrows. It sounded simple, but as grandmama activated an old wooden plank and Fester started to crank a gear, obstacles – ghosts, goblins, old kiddie-themed horror and other sharps began to appear in front of each of their targets at unpredictable speeds. Wednesday had trained on the machine when she was small, but it had been years since she’d used it and she couldn’t recall the distinct pattern that the mechanisms took.

Seeing Puglsey take his first shot, she knew she had to keep up and took hers as well, smirking when she heard Pugsley’s ricochet off of one of the other sharps. Wednesday’s pressure was perfect and it went right through a wooden specter, landing at least on the middle of the target, but not dead center. She heard a delighted whoop, assuming her brother’s next arrow made it, and she growled, letting that old competitive spirit fuel her, letting an arrogant breath out as she missed a projectile by mere milliseconds and also landed one at the dead center. They were tied – with one arrow to go each, she knew the only way to win…

She hadn’t split an arrow in a while. Thinking back to that movie she’d watched with her mother, about the redhead turning into a bear, Wednesday closed her eyes and visualized herself doing the same. She thought of her mother, having to stand up for herself in her own way, not being believed – not even by family, and used that to fuel her breath and release.

“Wednesday takes the win, round one!”

Refusing to even acknowledge it and allow herself to feel any kind of victory, particularly as she didn’t want it, Wednesday merely placed her bow down and crossed her arms, waiting for the next round to begin. She didn’t know the last time she’d flippantly tossed a knife at anyone and was feeling a little bit unnerved at the idea of using one in such a way. Not that anyone would know by staring at her passive expression, trying to keep it bored and a practiced neutral as the knife boards were brought out.

Gomez was the target, to no one’s surprise and Wednesday rolled her eyes, knowing the spot above his head on the wooden plank that was set with vertical spikes was pushed into the ground.

“Wednesday, I haven’t had time yet to teach your brother all it is he needs to know. If your aim is perfect, please – make sure you don’t forget about the Horesman files. Those are particularly important to his education on all things familia Addams.”

Sure her eyes were going to just spin right out of her head, she took her turn and the throwing knives that were brought out. She hit each of the marks expectedly, while Pugsley’s were just a touch sloppier, landing on Gomez’s pant ankle, attaching him to the board there and at the collar of his shirt, missing skin by mere slivers of an inch.

Fester was staring at Wednesday with a wrinkled, delighted expression that was nearly evil when his mother declared her the winner yet again, announcing that log splitting may be the last round. She wasn’t sure why her uncle was giving her such a difficult time that day, and she decided – she didn’t care about grandmama’s surprise. She just wanted to end the competition and get away from everyone until darkness fell and no one would be able to read the emotions that might betray her in the smallest muscles of her facial features.

They were moved to where the logs were stacked and as Wednesday tried to head there without reflecting her internal struggle, it was noticed by Enid. Her girlfriend wrapped her up from behind, forcing them to the back of the pack. She kissed her jaw. “Hey. I’m not sure what battle you’re fighting in your mind, but it’s not real. This is real, okay? You’re…not what you are going through in your head, Wednesday. You are a valued member of this family, and you don’t need to prove that to them.”

Wednesday turned around, uncertain what her shifting expression projected to the blonde. Enid cupped her cheek and gave her one of vague sympathy, and Wednesday really should’ve known she couldn’t fake it around her anymore. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do this, for Pugsley’s sake. I’m sorry. Let’s -”

“No,” Wednesday brought her palm up to cup Enid’s hand. Blue eyes were filled with confusion. “I want to finish. I don’t care about the results, just finishing. I…need to finish.”

“But you don’t have to be someone that you aren’t,” Enid said in a near whine – clearly not wanting Wednesday to put herself into a box.

“I’m…not her and I am her at the same time, Enid. I am multitudes.”

“So long as this isn’t going to force you to lose sleep any more than we already have, okay?” She frowned, looking like she could cry. Wednesday almost wanted to surrender for Enid’s sake, not her own. Hooking her arms around her waist, Wednesday kissed her warmly three times before pushing her forehead to Enid’s, squeezing her side in half a tickle and making her laugh. “Okay. Okay, I get it. You should finish this out if that’s what you want to do.”

Morticia was waiting near the edge of the gathering at the wooded area, checking in with her gaze and Wednesday returned the sentiment with her own – she was fine, and needed to continue. Her mother looked a little bored, truthfully, likely ready to commune with the girls, her cousins, and their traditions, but always willing to honor those of the family she married into as well.

Unsurprisingly, due to his growth spurt, she assumed, Pugsley bested Wednesday in the log splitting. Letting him have one round, she did find herself almost eager for that of the family’s famed staged treasure hunts, hopeful that there was an actual prize to be found. After receiving her clue, Wednesday tore off into the orchard, in search of the hollow eaves that she was sure was where her next clue was.

Sure enough, as she carefully scaled the lattice on the side of her taxidermy work shed, Wednesday smirked to find a little box with a lock and a small scroll sticking out from underneath it. She shrugged, positioning herself carefully on her elbows to read it in the slowly setting sunlight.

Wednesday – I know you really do not want to do this. I appreciate you giving into old traditions, even if they are well beyond you. Thank you, for continuing to be a part of the Addams family, even if you don’t always feel fully connected to it. You will forever be the grandchild I loved the longest. You mean so much to all of us – we are better for having you on our family tree. I know you can open this with magic, so I am going to spare you a complicated math algorithm. – Grandmama

Frowning so deeply that she had to ease her shaking body up into the tiny, cramped cutout of the wall under the roof so that she didn’t fall, Wednesday leaned back and held the note in her hands like no treasure hunt on earth could ever replace the value she felt by it.

Settling herself with a few deep breaths, she opened the box, finding a small black, leather-bound book. Inside was her paternal grandmother’s name, and a list of others…at first, she didn’t know what it meant, but another note fell from it and she read: A woman’s legacy has been overshadowed by the men she marries for centuries. Your father – a man of such valor, was determined not to let his wife’s family lore be lost to time because she chose to take his name. My own has been nearly wiped out – and not all for loss, they were a far cry from the best people to have ever walked the earth. They blacklisted me from their traditions for aligning myself with a family with a reputation like the Addams. But I believe it is important, that we do not let the patriarchy allow us to forget where we came from. I am asking you to hold the names of those from my family with my old name. I do not even much miss them, but I would never want them to be lost to time simply because of the ways of men.

Nodding, Wednesday took the book and tucked it into her pocket, ready to read through the names…perhaps find a way to incorporate them into future writings of her own. She let everything sit with her for a long minute, not caring if Pugsley ended up winning the treasure hunt, as she’d already found far more than she expected when starting the event.

Finally, feeling a burst of inspiration, she looked at the bottom of the box, finding her next clue.

You’ll find light here long after it fades from our summer sky tonight.

Smirking, Wednesday jumped from the spot, landing in a perfect tuck and roll, sprinting to Enid, who was holding two jars of honey from Eugene’s bees, a symbol of the solstice and a sign that Pugsley hadn’t managed to beat her.

Taking the one on her right, she then attacked her in a hug, kissing her mouth hard, pushing her back to the grass, not caring which of her family members were there to see such a display of affection. Enid giggled and put down the other jar, rolling them onto their sides in the just slightly-too-long wild grasses growing near the bonfire that signified – they were ready for the next round of welcoming the season.

Her grandmama shot her pistol into the air, letting Pugsley know to return. Kissing Enid once more on the lips, Wednesday appeared in front of the old woman, offering her gratitude in her gaze. “I might not have known them, but I will not forget them, either. Thank you, for entrusting me with your treasure. And…thank you more so, for your words. I needed them, grandmama.”

A wrinkled hand reached for the back of her head, running down one of her braids. Grandmama said nothing, merely nodded at Morticia, who stepped forward to collect her girl. “I am going to retire. Enjoy your traditions, Morticia.”

Her grandmother hobbled away and Wednesday watched as Lurch and her eldest (living) son tried to help her but she yelled at them both to leave her alone and they obeyed without questioning.

Pugsley slinked back to the assembly and Wednesday tilted her head at him. He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets in front of his big sister, accepting defeat. But Wednesday didn’t want him to feel it too keenly. She came toe-to-toe with him, looking him in the eye. Wednesday decided to wrap her arms around his neck and he delightedly pulled her tight to him, lifting her off her feet. Feeling a pair of bulky arms enclosing her from behind, then to the side, and the other, and a whole pile-up of family occurred on her, Wednesday groaned and shimmied out of Pugsley’s hold, crawling out of a tangle of feet, only to have her ankles grabbed by Enid, who gave an evil giggle and tackled her to the grass again, rolling her onto her back, but sitting on her lap, pulling her upwards so that Morticia could place a flower crown of victory over her dark locks like she’d wanted to all day. Wanting to peel it off and rip the petals off one at a time, she tolerated it instead, and even more – gave an eye roll of permission for pictures to take place in the fading sunlight with her family.

Finally, the silliness was over, and the men, including her Uncle Tic, prepared to take themselves up to the house so that the Frump women could have their time around the fire. Wednesday glared a little at her Uncle Fester, even more so than the man who was unsure about his daughters around her, because he’d had the nerve to speak to her the way that he did.

Fester paused and gave an about face as the group left, coming back to Wednesday. He lifted his pinky finger, pressing it to her left wrist in a careful zap. She opened her mouth to remind him – he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he already knew…and it hadn’t affected her at all. Wondering how he was certain that wouldn’t cause her delicate brain any damage, Wednesday crossed her arms protectively. Fester snorted and laughed. “I’d apologize for what I said earlier, but I’m not at all sorry. I just wanted to remind you that you aren’t so far removed from who you used to be. You needed a little bit of that old anger to inspire you. It’s good to have a healthy anger inside of you, Wednesday. It prevents you from languishing.”

He turned around in his awkward way, giving a lopsided jog up to the manor he’d grown up in. Morticia started playing her instrument, an old, haunting tune that made Wednesday close her eyes – imagining she was off somewhere in a field of wildflowers with Enid, three hundred years ago, when everything seemed simpler.

Still, as she turned around to look at her, Wednesday recognized that due to the nature of the times, then, Enid would not have survived infancy, and they never could have met. Even if she’d been abandoned instead and they’d found one another, they’d have been discovered for their forbidden love – and one of them would’ve been hanged. She took her seat next to her girlfriend on the stump as her mother played on, reminding herself to appreciate the time they were in, that they had together. The fire roared and her cousins leaned against her granny, one on each side, offering them something they were acutely missing.

Her mother offered her a final explanation of what her Uncle Fester might have been trying to say in different words that night. “You have changed – but you have had to, Wednesday. Not everyone could see the gradual progression you went through. You were very much a desert flower, forced to bloom under hostile conditions that few could have made it through. Enid, granny and I, your father, your brother…Larissa, Josephine, Emiliana – we have watched you through it all. We know your development was not sudden, and it is not out of character for you. It is growth. And just as this long day draws to a close, the chapter that allowed you to have this sudden intensity ends as well. Cast everything you no longer wish to carry into the fire, Wednesday. Let it burn, let it smolder, all night, so that in the new dawn, you are who you are meant to be, and no one can ask you to be anything else.”

X

Wednesday hit send on her discussion post for her online class – a daily requirement that had become routine. Her peers in the anthropology section actually seemed to care about the content, and though some of their writing could use improvement, Wednesday didn’t mind having to read and reply to two posts per day as she needed to for participation points. Enid was still asleep in bed next to her – nightmare free, though that was likely because the women of her family had not gone to sleep until after the witching hour. Thinking about the beautiful night they’d had after summer called the longest day to its close, Wednesday appreciated the traditions her mother shared with all the girls - the twins, her girlfriend, and her own mother more than she could almost tolerate. She hadn’t felt so full since Josie and Emi’s wedding.

Speaking of, she opened the tab on her laptop that connected her phone to her computer, a nifty application she found somewhat useful and only slightly invasive after Enid activated it for her. Sending a message to Josie, she said: I’m not sure if Emi knew what the day was yesterday, but I hope your solstice celebration – even if it was just a normal day – was nice.

Seeing three dots appear, Wednesday waited to read the response before getting up to find clothes for the day. I actually noticed the day and reminded her that she could do something if she felt inclined. We ended up at Owen’s house with his parents, Ker and Holly’s parents, papa, Larissa, and Imani just for a bbq, not really a solstice party, but it was a nice evening! Em was willing to speak a blessing and let Holly put flowers in her hair. She’s never one to keep up with any sort of tradition but I was happy she was willing to be surrounded by people and give us all something nice to take into the season. How was yours?

She sent a picture of Emiliana trying hard not to smile while Holly was obviously laughing, weaving white and pink trillium into her unusually tamed locks. Larissa was looking down at both of them with a glass of wine in her hand – probably feeling pure love for them both.

Attaching a few of the pictures of herself, her mother and Enid that her granny took – where her expression after having a flower crown placed on her head was just about identical to Emiliana’s, she gave a brief rundown of the day without adding any feeling to it. She wished Josie would call to talk her through it all, but knew that the woman just desperately needed to not be Wednesday’s mentor that season.

Yet - Josie knew her well, and offered: Can I call? Would that help? I know we’re on vaca – but I’m home now and happy to be here for you however I can.

Swallowing thickly, she just couldn’t allow her to break the boundary that had been set in place. She merely explained: I’m alright. Thank you for the offer – I do appreciate it. I’m going to go give my Uncle Tic a piece of my mind and force him to allow Cat and Mel to stay with us until Enid goes to NYC.

Closing her laptop and finding a pair of black, linen pants that would do a better job of keeping her cool on the first full day of summer than her beloved cargos, she added a snug black tank top and stripey long sleeve shirt on top that she could take off if she and the girls ended up outside and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Crawling up the mattress, Wednesday laid on top of Enid, earning her snort as she lifted her head in surprise for the weight that came on top of her. “’Sday?”

“It’s almost ten o’clock. I’m going to disrespect my elders. Come down when you’re ready, okay?”

“Mhm,” Enid mumbled, dropping back to the pillow with a long snore out. She was likely going to have a hangover from the amount of mead she’d consumed the night before. Taking a pain potion out and putting it on the nightstand and filling a water cup for her as well, Wednesday just kissed her cheek in amusem*nt, stroking her hair off of her face and willing her as much rest as she wanted. She took Augustus from his enclosure, thanking him for allowing her traditions to take place without having to stress over his wellbeing the day before.

With the snake around her neck, she shuffled down the stairs, finding her father and Fester already putting Uncle Tic in his place in the formal family room up front. She couldn’t hear their hissed tone full of vague threats, but based on her great uncle’s nervous disposition, they were cruel and promising.

Hurrying silently between them, she heard Gomez’s intake of breath in surprise at her presence and took every bit advantage of the anger that Fester helped her tapped into the night before. “I am not a mindless killing machine,” Wednesday started, her hands at her sides, remaining neutral and poised, but ready to say what she needed to. She stared hard at her relative, insisting he listen. “I am not a loose cannon ready to fire at any moment. I was forced to make a decision that will follow me for the rest of my life, where the consequences are likely only beginning to unfold for me. But I should not have to experience them from my own family. Uncle Tic, you might remember a surly little girl who refused to communicate in words for a very long time, who was prone to fits and tended to use violence to get her way. Those childhood flaws have turned into necessary traits as I navigate a world not meant for me. I would kill Quinton Bridger again if he were in front of me, without hesitating, if it meant sparing the lives of anyone in this room – anyone that I loved. I would enact my own justice again, knowing there would be no other way for him to ever receive it once I had done what was required. If there is anyone you should entrust your daughters to, it is me. I would sooner put any future of mine at risk than allow one other terrible thing to happen to someone that I love.”

At that, her father and his brother both reached out for her at the same time, and she wished they hadn’t as she slipped into a vision from their life.

“Come on, Gomez, don’t be stupid!” A thirty-years-younger, though largely the same looking, Fester lost his hold on the rope from the ceiling tile he’d slipped into Gomez’s jailcell in, collapsing into a heap. Thing crawled off his midback, signing aggressively towards Gomez about grabbing the rope.

The mustachioed teen didn’t even look at his brother, simply kept his hands together in front of himself, looking more than a bit stoic.

Fester pushed himself up and shook his head, his lips flapping obnoxiously. “I thought that this place was maximum security with how long you’ve been rotting away in here! You haven’t even tried to escape? Father sent me to get you from the outside, but that hardly seems like it was necessary! I had a good lead going in Boston – you’re wasting my time!”

Gomez blinked, staring straight ahead. “This will resolve as it is intended,” He said quietly. “The lawyers will be far more useful in this situation than any of your or father’s half-baked schemes.”

“Hey! This is fully cooked, little brother! This is the easiest in and out I’ve ever seen! We can have you home and taking over the family business in no time!”

“I need to finish school. Tish and I have plans. There is not evidence to convict me, I’m certain.”

“Eh, come off it, Gomez – it’s not that big of a deal. You’re an Addams, you’re not supposed to take the moral high ground! Father might get here and make you actually involved in a murder if he finds out you’re this soft because of that girl! He’s going to kill you if you don’t get yourself out of this. The least you could do is claim responsibility for the dead man! You’re woefully behind on your rap sheet compared to the rest of us!”

“That girl is the love of my life, Fester. You know this. I will not do anything that compromises the future that I have promised her. Morticia is so strong, and fearless. But tonight…” He curled his bottom lip, anger washing over his presence. “Tonight – I saw something in her eyes, that I will be damned if I ever see again. I must do this the proper way, to be with her again!”

“The proper way is for squares. You don’t fit inside the box, kid – you’re an Addams! If father has to come down here and spring you with cash – you’re going to be paying him back for the rest of your natural life, and I don’t mean with money!”

“Father doesn’t need to pay anyone off. I am going to do what is necessary for Morticia.”

The vision flashed to Gomez being led out of the police station by Grandfather Addams – a burley heap of a man no taller than his middle son, with a thicker moustache and obvious signs of liver disease. His trembling hand was on the back of Gomez’s neck, and as his son attempted to get away from his presence, he was shoved back into the alleyway, the side of the police station. “What the hell is wrong with you, Gomez?”

His mother appeared suddenly, pushing her husband off her son with a huff. “I told you we’re not doing this here. We’ll go home and deal with it!”

“Wrongfully accused of murder? Refusing to escape a prison this easy to flee from? Have you no value of our traditions! All this hubbub, bringing the authorities into it, for a girl?!”

“She’s not just a girl,” Gomez breathed, adjusting his tie, glaring at his father. “You know how I feel about Morticia, father!”

“You’ve become bloodless because of this witch!”

“Hey!” The woman barked, warning him again. “You can hate the lineage she comes from, but you will not disrespect their traditions, or you disrespect my own.”

The man huffed, rolling his eyes, drawing her close by her wrist. She leaned against him, looking at Gomez helplessly. “Are you going to say something useful in defense of yourself here, Gomez?”

He was staring down at his shoes, frustration obviously rising as his chest heaved quickly in panic. “I need to go to her.”

“You need a fierce reality check, son! You are the one we are counting on to take on the legacy of the Addams family! Fester is already on his second lobotomy! Cosimo is dead, good riddance – for all our sake! And I know that Pancho will never have half your potential! I have hand selected you to be my heir apparent because I know what you are capable of, you have brains beyond measure – but I am now questioning your wit! Here, you go and throw away our proud family legacy, all for some dark-haired Seer?”

“She won’t be the first in our legacy,” He said his eyes shiny with anger and disbelief. “This community of Outcasts wouldn’t even exist if Goody Addams, one of the most powerful Seers of all time -”

“We don’t talk about her,” Gomez’s mother reminded him. “She defies even our family norms, Gomez.”

“What, we cannot speak of extremes?” He hissed, then slammed his fist back into the brick. “Do what you must, father. Take away my place in the family book, for all I care. Family will mean nothing to me if I do not have Morticia in it!”

A slap rang across the night, echoing in the alleyway. Gomez spat out a tooth, his lip bleeding profusely as his father’s massive ring made contact with it. He held his jaw, looking up, a new emotion fueling his gaze.

As the sun began to rise, Gomez stared at his father square in the eye before making a choice and running.

The vision flashed once more to the young man bursting through the dormitory room door of Morticia Frump, who was lying on her side, clutching a pillow to her chest while silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

She sat up suddenly, choking on his name. He swooped himself beside her, scooping her into his arms, holding her like a very lifeline.

“What happened?” She breathed. “Did you run?”

“No, Tish. I would never risk my life with you in such a way,” He spoke and she looked at him with a gasp, inspecting his jaw, his lip, his gumline. “My father is very disappointed in me for not committing a murder and refusing to escape jail.”

“Oh, Gomez,” She breathed. “Let me get my dental tools. One moment, darling, one moment!”

He gripped her hips, shaking his head, keeping her in place as he revealed the tooth. Morticia took it in her fingers, sniffing, holding it to her chest as she folded her fingers around it. “Gomez,” She breathed. “Promise me – you forgive me?”

“Morticia, there is no forgiveness to earn. You did nothing wrong, cara mia. I would stand by that until the very end of time.”

Her chest heaved. “And promise me,” She leaned forward. “When we have children,” She curled a hand around his shoulder. “We will never ignore their calls. We will always be there for them, no matter where we are? And,” Morticia looked up, tears flowing. “No matter what they’ve done, they will never feel that they have disappointed us?”

“I promise you, Tish…” He kissed her with bloody lips, leaving a trail on hers that she leaned into, wanting it more. “It is pure love, that defines our relationship. And it will be pure love that we have for our future Addams as well. They will come into this family legacy, but we will not make them feel anything less than adored.”

Sitting up in her father’s hold with Fester holding the shaker end of a rattlesnake tail on a chain over her, chanting in a made-up language, Wednesday held back her gasp by a miracle and swatted Fester’s annoying attempt at rousing her away. Wednesday’s Uncle Tic sat, looking far away – like he’d seen it all before.

As Gomez fussed over his daughter, Tic stood and rounded them, heading up the stairs. Wednesday pushed away from her father and let out a sigh, knowing the vision she saw was one that was worth talking about. Not wanting to give too much context, she said to the burly man still trying to hold onto her, “That you manage to show such depths of patience and kindness, despite not receiving much from your own patriarch…you’ve broken a curse, father. This family – it needed harsh, to survive. But it did not have to pass that along to the children in action. I’m grateful for you.”

She let him gather her again, sighing against his chest as Tic returned, a suitcase in hand. “I am entrusting my girls to you and my sister-in-law, Gomez. I will return to collect them in two days.”

As he disappeared out the door, Cat and Mel scrambled down the steps with more personality than they usually possessed, Cat particularly looking delighted. Mel took in the scene first, then asked Wednesday, “Can we get to work? I really want to learn how to get into the ether!”

Feeling a sense of responsibility, she nodded against her father’s shoulder, telling the girls, “My mother is likely in the conservatory. Help her finish with her plants and she will set us up in the study.”

They hurried down the hall and Wednesday glanced at Fester. He shrugged and rolled his eyes around, unable to look at either of them, a sign he was about to say something remarkably sincere. “Your father has always been a man of excellence, Wednesday – an exemplar of someone who both commands power and love at the same time. It was my honor to surrender the title of the family heir to him.”

“You did not surrender it, Fester,” Gomez said with a loud laugh. “I took it from you in a duel that you lost so fantastically, mama had to reattach your left earlobe!”

He snorted as he chuckled, coming to his feet. “On that note, I’m off – I don’t want to waste my numbered days in this house when the summer season brings so many opportunities. I’ve got to see a man in Philly about a mummified ranidae rana he intends to use for a reanimated floor show!”

With that, Fester put his hands together, let out a loud sneeze, and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Wednesday waved it away and looked up at Gomez. “Do I want to know what he’s going to do with the dead frog?”

“He’s probably going to boil and eat it before his friend has the opportunity to let mayhem out on the city of brotherly love.”

“I’m glad you still have plenty for him,” Wednesday said as she stood up and her father followed, rubbing her shoulder where he’d accidentally touched and forced her to experience a vision of his life.

“It is nothing compared to what I feel for you. But – you must eat, Wednesday – your little beeper has yelled thrice already and we allowed you to rest, but it is well past your time to break the fast. I’ve prepared you a hearty scramble that should hold you over until noon, at least.”

She allowed her father to parent her and spend very meaningful time sharing his thoughts on how he coped while her mother was away with Wednesday that winter prior to purchasing a home in Jericho to be near her. Trying to tap into their commonalities to learn how to deal with Enid’s upcoming absence in just two days’ time, Wednesday polished off the meal he’d made for her before letting him walk her to his wife’s study. Morticia’s door was open and she was explaining to the younger girls what a meditation rug or scarf could do for them when he stepped in. She beamed at the love of her life, letting him push a noisy kiss to her cheek and make her giggle as he kissed all the way down her arm to her palm, folding her fingers around it, telling her to save it for later. She promised to do so and Gomez merely winked at Wednesday, who selected a meditation rug and prepared for the important work of teaching her cousins even more family traditions to guide them as they grew in power.

X

“But what if it cancels out the effects of my transformation potion?”

Wednesday watched Enid pacing nervously as she finished adding the distilled clove water she’d had going for a few hours under a burner to a small cauldron. Two days after the solstice and working with her cousins (and Enid) nonstop on meditative practices with her mother, she didn’t think she’d need to reassure her girlfriend about her magical abilities. Still, she very calmly explained, “Potions aren’t like Normie medicine. They don’t interact with one another in the same way – they’re as much magical as they are chemical.”

“But when the doctor first switched your medication over spring break, you were a hot mess that next week!” Enid’s memory of Wednesday’s repeated meltdowns as a hot mess was…well – a very Enid-way of describing her tantrums, she supposed.

“Yes, but Dr. Rodman didn’t power my anti-seizure drugs with his intentions or pour his own love and blessings into it,” She tried to tease. “I promise, this is very different. You aren’t going to shift just because I give you something to help stop your nightmares.”

“But your mama’s potions didn’t help -”

Keeping her patience up, Wednesday could see Enid having an old meltdown of her own – the pacing, her anxiety was high, it was how she used to be pretty often, once Wednesday considered it, when they first lived together. She wondered when that really all changed, thinking she needed to spend some time meditating and reflecting on Enid’s disposition transformation once she was gone.

Interrupting Enid’s next train of thought, Wednesday began to stir the last of the ingredients together before cleaning up her workspace and preparing to heat it outside under the moon. “Mama’s potions do work for you,” She argued. “Her potion is a sleep aid. You’ve been sleeping, just having nightmares during sleep. You often don’t even wake yourself out of them, I wake you. Enid,” Wednesday looked at her seriously, earning worried blue eyes as she looked right at her, finally. “I promise you will not transform, accidentally, or under the moon, by taking this potion. And once I complete a proper blessing of this, my highest hope is that it is as effective as anything else I’ve ever made, and that you will have a more peaceful slumber.”

Dropping her shoulders and her lower lip trembling, Enid dashed closer and pulled Wednesday into a hug. Placing the cauldron back on the table of her mother’s study, Wednesday returned it earnestly. With one hand between her shoulder blades and the other on the back of her head, she held her tight and sighed. “I know you need to go. You have an unprecedented opportunity to learn and spend a month gaining the tools that will help you earn entrance into a university theater program. I hate that you are doing this without me. I recognize, however, that you need to do this without me. You deserve time to yourself. You shouldn’t have to spend all of your time off engaged in…this.”

Enid squeezed her harder. “I want to spend my time away from school doing things with you! No one is forcing me to be in your mother’s study or meditate with you or read old spell books and forage for ingredients. I like doing this with you! I learn so much just by watching you, listening to you explain things to me that previously would have been beyond my comprehension. Your interests and traditions matter to me. I love learning about them and doing them with you!”

Still feeling like she took so much from Enid for what Wednesday was able to give her in return, she kept that thought to herself and kissed the side of her head. “I want you to have an incredible time doing the other things you love, without me there to offer you any kind of comfort in the middle of the night when you need it. Hopefully, taking this potion before you go to sleep will be as effective as a gentle kiss or my fingers tangled in your hair.”

Sniffing into her shoulder, Enid broke, then. She let out a loud cry and Wednesday wished she were strong enough to scoop her up into her hold. Walking herself backwards to the edge of the couch, she took a seat and pulled her into her lap instead, where Enid let out another wail of a sound.

The study door squeaked open, but Enid didn’t move like she heard it. Morticia appeared with a worried look, but Wednesday just shot her a dangerous leer and waved her out. She lifted a hand and nodded once, an expression that said – call me if you need me.

Wednesday surely would not.

She let Enid cry for a bit – having learned how valuable it was to let out those painful feelings instead of holding them in so often. She rubbed her back and shoulder as Enid sobbed into hers.

It went on for longer than she expected, but Wednesday was steady through it until Enid shook her head, holding her and trembling. Wednesday kissed the top of her head and when the noise died down a little, she wondered, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about…I’m thinking about – how…how...the last time, that we were separated by more than either of our conscious states, for any length of time, was…was – in that coffin.”

Swallowing the biggest ball of emotion manageable, Wednesday didn’t have any words to offer her for that. “Are you afraid, to be away from me?”

“A little,” Enid sniffed. “A lot.”

“Are you afraid for you, or afraid for me?”

“Both,” Enid whispered. “But more than fear, it’s just – it’s just…I don’t want to be away from you! I don’t think either of us do very well away from each other anymore.”

She was vocalizing what Wednesday had been dreading since Enid was accepted into the program. Part of her was grateful that Enid felt the same thing as she did; she felt that it gave validation that they were not in a codependent relationship. Adding that to their vernacular in what they were instead, she acknowledged, “We are precariously dependent on one another.” Rubbing her hand over Enid’s knuckles, she compared them to another romance. “But – so are my parents. I’m not so sure it’s a bad thing to be so in love that it’s hard to be away from the person you care about the most.”

Enid scooted lower, so her backside was off of Wednesday’s thighs, but her legs were draped over them. She rested her head on Wednesday’s shoulder like it weighed a thousand pounds and she knew how much Wednesday could carry there. “I think…listening to your extended family talk about their worries for you…it applies to me, too,” She sniffed. “I’ve changed a lot in the last year as well. I’m not the glitter-princess vlogger-wannabe faking it through the day that I used to be. I’m not masking my insecurities with multicolored hair and overcommitting to activities to keep myself from thinking.” Enid let out a heavy breath and Wednesday ran a thumb over her wet cheek, soaking up some of her tears. “I know that at first – that upset you. You thought you’d stripped me of my personality. But…those things – they weren’t who I was. You brought out who I am, helped me overcome so much of it, invited me into a world I never imagined I could fit into…and I-I’m just so much happier, than I used to be, even if it doesn’t look like it on the outside.”

“What mama said about it taking time for others who didn’t see change progress slowly – it resonates with you, too.” She nodded.

“Yeah,” Enid’s strained voice acknowledged. “If people look at me, and think I’m different because of you, they just aren’t comprehending what actually happened.”

Wednesday let her fingers make little patterns on Enid’s exposed wrist. “You have matured. If you were stuck in the same patterns that you were when we first met, I would not have fallen in love with you the way that I did. I had to truly see you, for you – underneath the bright colors and loud pop songs. And I think that much the same, if I hadn’t grown since night one, demanding silence, obsessed with writing my fictional story and playing my cello while the world was burning around me, if I hadn’t tried to put it out – then I’d have truly been the one-dimensional psychopath that people wanted to think I was.”

“We shouldn’t care what people think about us. But it is normal to, right?”

“I didn’t used to care at all how I was perceived. Now I understand there is a bit of danger to that. We need to find a balance. This calls back to the conversation I had with my mother regarding Uncle Tic. She at first asked me to be more palatable to him. That wasn’t the solution, though. I didn’t need to be someone else, I needed to own up to who I was and be unapologetic about it.”

Stroking one of her braids, Enid frowned. “I know this is literally so temporary. And the anticipation of being apart is probably worse than actually being separated will be. But…I’ve never felt like this,” Enid confessed. “It’s fear and longing. I don’t know that there’s an emotion for it.”

“I’m hardly a social worker or a therapist,” Wednesday mumbled – certainly not going to be any better at that type of vocabulary. “Regardless, I know – you deserved this opportunity when it was presented to you. You are going to gain so much insight into the future career you want by taking advantage of it.”

Nodding, Enid nuzzled her. “I’m sorry for getting so upset about it.”

“Please, don’t ever apologize to me for having feelings,” Wednesday whispered, tangling her hand in her hair, kissing the top of her head. “But I do hope to help prevent you from waking up trapped in negative ones. Will you please help me finish the potion?”

Finding her courage, Enid agreed, and the two spent another twenty minutes getting everything set up before leaving the brew to bubble in the moonlight. Taking Enid’s hand, Wednesday walked them to the kitchen, where she found her grandmama and granny having their nightly tea, welcoming the girls with a cup of their own while Wednesday fixed her before-bed snack and took the handful of pills that kept her going, bringing it all over.

Her granny was tuned into the fact that Enid had been having a breakdown and was fussing over her, while her grandmama mostly just observed, sipping her tea. She slid in beside her while she watched Hester cup Enid’s cheeks and stroke her hair, whispering assurances to her. Morticia floated into the room, taking in the scene before pulling up a chair and making herself a player, nearly cooing her own promises to her surrogate daughter – promising them they could be to the city in no time at all if she needed them, that they’d pull out all the stops to be there for her however she required.

One piece that Wednesday hoped Enid took away from her time away from the Addams family was tuning into confidence when it came to herself. Thinking back to their talk about all the ways they’d developed over the course of the time they’d known one another, that was always an interesting trait that Enid struggled with. She could project any character on stage, perform a one-person monologue, and was learning to sing her face off without backup. She’d put out a dance on TikTok for several million people to see and was willing to put together any event to bring other people joy and make them feel included. But when it came to her own sense of self, Enid still didn’t believe in who she was and who she could be, evident by the months of refusing to shift during the full moon, and more so by how nervous she was to be away from her found family.

Wednesday had felt that Enid had proved herself repeatedly – standing up to her, wolfing out under a blood moon, fighting a Hyde, surviving months of a malevolent spirit taunting her, learning to tune into her own energy and enter the ether despite not being a psychic, performing feats of magic, surviving being kidnapped and tortured without caving into the madman who wanted her for dead…

Enid had every right to boast about who she’d become, but she sat in her granny’s hold, trying not to cry as she continued to doubt herself.

Wondering if it would take another act from the universe to get her to truly see her own power…if maybe – there was still so much buried by ignoring the problems caused by her birth pack, Wednesday bit back a sigh as she wondered if the separation in focusing on her career could actually help with that, then.

Lost in her own thoughts again, Wednesday didn’t realize she’d been staring at her oatmeal that was growing cold, and still hadn’t put down her medications. Morticia tapped her elbow and she snapped out of it, forcing herself to go through the motions of a bedtime routine early, skipping the nighttime meditation with her mother in lieu of extra time with Enid.

Enid asked for a bath when they got up to the tower and Wednesday was content to oblige. She set one with chamomile and lavender oil to help them both relax, adding bubbles and salts for extra relaxation potential. Enid joined her in the bathroom, already nude and Wednesday couldn’t help the way her eyes roamed over her body, stuck staring at her small, perfect breasts. Blinking when she settled into the water, Wednesday kissed the top of her head, putting on a record to play in the background before peeling off her clothes and joining her as well.

“Come here,” Enid insisted the moment she was in the tub. Obliging, Wednesday was about to kiss her when Enid first snapped the rubber bands off her braids and let them loose, then held Wednesday’s jaw and started to kiss her.

Sure she tasted like peppermint tea and berries, it seemed that Enid hardly minded. She kissed fully, hungrily – like she was trying to take everything Wednesday could give before they were forced apart.

Feeling like she wanted to prove to Enid that she could push herself a little bit, Wednesday slid closer, finding herself almost between her legs beneath the water. They’d done so plenty of times in the caverns hot spring, but never without swimsuits on.

Enid abandoned her lips for a moment to look at her. There was a familiar sort of Werewolf-inspired want in her gaze that Wednesday had never noticed in anyone else. She wondered just how hard Enid had to rely on her self-control not to take all that she wanted, every time Wednesday gave of herself physically, a little bit more than before. Thinking Enid didn’t even know herself – just how hard she worked, all the time, to be the girl that she was, Wednesday hooked her arms around her bare middle, initiating the next kiss, slipping her tongue between Enid’s lips.

Warm hands curled around the damp ends of her hair, taking a fistful and responding to the kiss with an earnest request to keep it going.

It felt groundbreaking to Wednesday, to be so close. She could feel her heartbeat throbbing away in her ears as nervous energy combined with satisfaction and an unyielding attraction –

It was love, and it was more, and it was the fear of being apart – keeping them together that night.

In the morning, Enid put the last of her chargers in her bag and Wednesday paced with her recommended packing list from the university. She’d already gone over it multiple times, ensured Enid had more than she needed, but the little paper, the edges damp from anxious sweat, felt like a lifeline that morning.

Lurch arrived at nine o’clock on the dot with a grunt. Enid needed to be on campus to check in before the first meeting and lunch at noon; it was time to head into the city.

Wednesday stared at her long as she pulled her backpack on and Lurch took her trunk down the stairs. Enid’s disposition was surprisingly neutral; she wasn’t overly excited or worried, like she’d worked through all the feelings the night before efficiently enough to start the trip.

Her grandmothers had suggested that Wednesday say goodbye at the house, spare her the pain and suffering of an apprehensive car ride there and a miserable one back, but Wednesday absolutely had to go. She had a small bag herself – and intended on ensuring that Enid’s space was protected by her intention through magic for the sake of her own comfort.

Truthfully, by the time the day had rolled around, her mother looked just as uneasy about depositing Enid into someone else’s care as well. Morticia was not her usual morning greetings, batted eyelashes and knowing smiles. She was uptight and snappy – even giving her father a bit of a clipped response when asked if she was ready. Expecting a full blow-out argument with her later due to high moods and tensions, Wednesday made note to avoid her at every opportunity.

The ride to New York was generally quick to a certain point, where traffic was frustrating, but overall – even in the morning rush, they made it to Morningside Heights in good time. Enid spent most of it talking with Gomez about his favorite plays they’d seen in the nineties, well before Wednesday, while Morticia and Wednesday’s moods stewed.

When they pulled up to quickly unload, Lurch had the pleasure of driving around for a while looking for a miracle of a parking spot. Wednesday clung to Enid’s side without latching onto her, but their shoulders brushed constantly as she signed papers and received packets and a key to her room.

Wednesday was grateful that her parents had splurged for a private space for her – unable to imagine her girlfriend sharing with a new roommate to take over any space in her heart. While she did hope that Enid fit in and made some friends, she didn’t want her to have the opportunity to become entirely too close with anyone else. Her tendency to experience raw jealousy just wouldn’t cope well with Enid having a new best friend, particularly one with more organic shared interests.

As she arrived at the residence hall, Wednesday was almost immediately glad she wasn’t staying as the box fan in the window was little substitute in the cinderblock room for central air. Before Enid could even begin to unload, Wednesday knelt in the middle of the room, opening her own bag and beginning the process of making sure the space met her high expectations. She removed recently charged crystals, an iron horseshoe, bells, and a totem from Emiliana, a little…penguin, she thought, made of bottle caps and broken pieces of glass.

Placing the crystals in the corners of the room, she stood on the mattress of the twin XL bed, on her tip-toes to reach as she tied the bells to the top of the curtain, and frowned when there wasn’t an existing nail hole above the door, she made her own with a thumbtack, figuring it was temporary enough and if anyone was looking at the damage above the doorframe at Enid’s moveout damages inspection, they were wacky.

She tucked the horseshoe between the mattress and box spring (checking for bed bugs while she was at it). Wednesday lit an incense cone, despite the resident assistant telling her there was no smoke-product allowed in the dorms –

Hearing Enid quietly just ask her to take a minute, for religious purposes, Wednesday smirked, closing her eyes and willing a protection blessing over the room and space, something half memorized from an old spell book, half made up. She pleaded with the universe to keep Enid safe without her –

Please…

…please.

Wednesday took out a small knife, holding it to her thumb when she heard a little airy breath from her mother and felt her hands on her shoulders before she could prick her finger. “Blood sigils are so powerful but…perhaps, this is enough, for the dormitory at the Ivy League school summer program?”

Glancing up at Enid’s questioning eyes, Wednesday sighed, recognizing that she was very much, overreacting. Letting her gaze fall to the floor, she put the knife away and moved the cone to the nightstand next to the totem, letting it burn out as she watched Enid unpack a few things, particularly one of the new pictures of herself and Wednesday from the solstice, sitting in the sunset field of wildflowers, sharing a kiss.

Frowning deeply as they could’ve been engaging in such that very morning, Wednesday focused on being useful, putting her nightmare, anti-transformation, and sleeping potion beside the blessings. She helped Enid get the bed made and clothes put away before they were led to the auditorium where the welcome meeting for the lucky seniors would be held.

The lights flickered, signifying the group was expected to say their goodbyes and take their seats.

With her heart thumping in her ears, feeling something close to distress, Wednesday managed to look at Enid, unable to read her face. Hating that it would be the last sight of her she recalled, Wednesday pushed a long kiss to her lips, then yanked her close as possible in an embrace, feeling so upset that she was fully mute, unable to even tell Enid how much she loved her or goodbye.

Wednesday held onto her for as long as she could in front of a crowd before it would be weird. Finally, pulling away, she refused to look at Enid – didn’t want to see if her eyes were as shiny as her own were starting to betray her. She couldn’t stand to drop a single tear in front of the thespians, and with a quick kiss to her cheek, heard Enid’s whispered, “I love you,” and twisted around, hurrying past her mother and father down the steps to the rotunda, then out to the sidewalk, crossing her arms, looking up and down the street through the watery gaze, looking for Lurch.

Locating the hearse, she moved hastily down the block. Letting him open the door for her, she climbed in, whipped her backpack off, put on her headphones and blasted an angry, Russian orchestra piece. Settled in her misery, Wednesday curled into the corner of the opposite door, refusing to let her parents see her emotions or try to alleviate them.

X

Wednesday had been texting with Enid at irregular intervals since arriving home and pouting for several hours alone in her tower. After stomping off to the woods and finding an old slingshot she kept in the knot of a tree and shooting targets for a while, she played her music until her headphones died and the sound of her thoughts was too much to take. Hoping to tap into an old coping mechanism, she was going to head to the music room to play her cello after forcing herself to have a snack, when the open door to her father’s study made her pause when she first wanted to retrieve an old music book from the library. She felt a unique pull, a need to address something that there really hadn’t been time to since she discovered it.

Gomez was busy scrolling away at ledgers, a lorgnette in hand as he refused to wear spectacles, but desperately needed the corrective lenses to keep up with the tiny print that was on stock reports for him weekly.

“Querida, could you…” His voice trailed off and her father looked up with a warm, fond look. “Apologies, Wednesday,” He spoke her name like a fine wine – something to be appreciated. It was rare; she usually heard something other than a nickname when he was growing impatient with her attitude. A full wash of adoration came over Gomez as he sat back in his seat, dropping his fountain pen to the dark wood surface of the desk and pulling his hands together. “With all the time you’re spending together and practicing her family tradition – making potions, meditating, performing spells…you smell like your mother. I thought you were she, upon entering. It is hardly an insult, I assure you.” He winked.

“I don’t take it as one,” She replied, her voice a little gravely from not having been able to speak for hours as she tried to experience and suppress her feelings at the same time. A year ago, she might’ve been peeved to be compared to her mother – but with all Wednesday learned about the woman in the last year; how Morticia dropped everything to be present for her daughter when she needed her the most…there were far worse people to be measured against, for certain.

She came properly into the room, walking along the back wall of curios in her summer-weight dress, touching the white lace of her collar as she found herself staring at the teeny, tiny extra toe of hers preserved in the jar on her father’s shelf. Wednesday considered it with a drop of her shoulders in a long exhale. Sometimes, she wished her parents had kept it attached, let it grow out of the side of her foot. Maybe the universe would have shown her mercy, and being an eleven-toed weirdo who had to wear special shoes could have been the only trait that made her exceptional.

“I recognize that you are performing your weekly fiscal tasks for the financial wellbeing of the family coffers,” She spoke stiffly, not looking at him as she noticed, he’d replaced several of the photos of just Wednesday in his office, to some of both she and Enid. “I do not wish to disrupt, but I do have several matters I have been meaning to discuss and simply have not taken the time yet to do so in recent days. Preparing for the absence of Enid has been far more grueling than I ever could have anticipated.”

She heard him stand, despite not wanting to meet his eyes, the tell-tale squeak of his chair as he rose. “Money may make the world go ‘round, but what good is it unless there are those in your world that it is worth investing? You are priceless, my little storm cloud. Come, sit with me.”

Turning then, her braids falling a little over her shoulder, Wednesday followed his direction, taking a spot next to him on the loveseat near the fireplace. She almost wished it was winter, so that the hearth would be full and it would be cozier in the office space, giving her more of a reason to lean in. She sat at a distance, on the opposite end, though, staring at the mantle – finding more changes. He’d replaced Pugsley’s poor excuse of his first taxidermy squirrel with the beautiful Cooper’s hawk he’d captured before the solstice and finished quickly. Her brother had improved tenfold since he was ten, Wednesday could admit. Additionally, the frame that had a picture of herself and her brother looking miserable at an amusem*nt park several years prior was swapped out with one of his three children; Wednesday, Enid and Pugsley all sitting together on the swing at Emiliana’s cottage, Wednesday trying not to smile between them the night they’d practiced for the wedding.

“What’s on your mind? Aside from the obvious – your state was far from subtle upon leaving the university today.”

Ignoring that comment, Wednesday lifted a shoulder. “I’d like to speak with you about your own father.”

Gomez clearly hadn’t anticipated that. He cleared his throat and shifted, stroking his moustache. Wednesday knew immediately, that he could have avoided the topic for a lifetime by his tells.

“The day after the solstice, my vision…I saw how he treated you when you left the Jericho police station after taking the fall for mother, regarding Garett Gates. It was…it was distressing to see you treated that way.”

He looked far away for a moment – likely recalling the night for himself. Feeling immediately guilty for forcing him to do that, Wednesday considered putting the train back on the track and driving more to station instead of discussing the events that would lead to it. But Gomez was a strong man, no matter how deeply he felt, and as he puffed up his chest a little, Wednesday could see him coming into himself, prepared to discuss the complicated subject with his daughter. “That night…the only thing on my mind was your mother. I knew she was going to be reeling from what had happened, and I needed to be there to support her.” Nodding her understanding, Wednesday observed as he danced around the subject a little, his fingers of his left hand rubbing a pattern on his right palm. “Whether or not she was suffering in guilt, anger, sadness, hurt – I did not know the emotion when I left her, as I believe she was too deep in shock to identify anything else. But knew as time dragged on, me sitting uselessly in that jail cell – she would be starting to grapple with it…”

“To answer Fester and grandfather’s questions…tell me more about your decision not to escape? Jericho’s holding cell isn’t exactly high security.”

He answered similarly, but with far more emotion than he’d spoken to his father. “I knew…as much as the family tradition might laud a life on the run as one to be hailed, it was not what I wanted for your mother, for our future children.” Gomez shifted a little, offering Wednesday his eyes. “I wanted at least the stability of a home for you, for her. It didn’t have to be this one, if it was not meant to be. But the thought of having to pack you all up every few months to hide from the law; to deny you opportunities of a formal education or the ability to allow you to pursue any interest or hobby you desired, because of mistakes in my past…I could not reconcile that with what my father claimed was the right thing to do.”

Her father continued, “You know our history. You know what we’ve been asked to do – what we’ve done over time. I suppose little has changed, except that perhaps I was an outlier to the way an Addams man is fit to become. If my own father did not want me to grow into myself, he should have been banning books from the family library. I was influenced not by him, but by the worlds I would tumble into as a boy. Your grandmama was always encouraging, while I do not think your grandfather had a clue what my interests were. He was always drinking when he was not about the family business.”

Wednesday swallowed and shifted, tucking her knees under her as she twisted. Her fingers gripped the back of the couch as she found the gall to ask a difficult question that she needed answers to. “Did grandfather…physically punish you often, like he did outside the jail?”

Gomez didn’t flinch as he replied. “I would not say often.”

Glaring, she replied, “But he did.”

It was one thing – to challenge oneself, to play on the racks – all the implements of torture the family had collected over the years. They had always been a challenge – fun and games, and always, always, always – a choice between the living members of the Addams family. It required consent, and if it was removed for any reason, the game was ended. It was about trust and love and strengthening oneself, not about hurt.

Her father put a hand on the back of the couch as well, facing her more. Wednesday met his eyes, brown on brown – finding a classic sort of gentle that always met her in ardent assurance, when she dared lock her gaze on his. “My father did not want me to be soft. He thought he could beat it out of me. Often, he would require me to fight back. Sometimes, I would refuse, and just take it – and let it be the lesson that I needed, not the one that he wanted me to learn.”

“What was that?” Wednesday whispered in a hiss of anger.

“That I would never treat the people that I loved in such a way,” Gomez said with earnest hope. “That night outside of the jailhouse – that was the last time he put hands on me. It…woke up something inside me. The night with Garrett – it…changed my life. Not in the way most would think.”

Wednesday felt her lips twisting downward as she tried to control herself, not wanting to give into another outburst that day.

“Tenderness, gentleness…those were not traits that the Addams family previously possessed,” Gomez elaborated. “They are far removed from our genes. To be open to soft, to love – to desire, that must be taught. I hoped, eventually, you would learn that skillset along with all the others that came naturally. The vulnerability in benevolence defies the will of an Addams. It must be acutely modeled, and frequently practiced to be achieved. But my daughter, like an orchid, you have found the ability to show your beauty despite every environmental and innate challenge. I do believe that after the last year, you have blossomed with all these things as well.”

Proving so, she crawled forward and hooked her arms around his neck, burying her face in the juncture of his shoulder and the collar of his shirt. He returned the embrace with gusto, the heave of a relieved breath so intense, it added even more fuel to the fire that was trying so desperately to burn her up from the inside out to release her feelings. Wednesday held on tighter and shifted, letting him practically hold her.

It felt so safe – in his arms. Wednesday wondered if her grandfather had ever hugged his sons; or if every time he put hands on them, they felt a twinge of fear. Refusing to dwell on it for much longer, she said, finally, “You are inherently an Addams. But you are not your father’s son. You have allowed us to sustain our name as a people, with our unique unconventionality, but have not forced us to endure outdated ways, either. I told you – as a father, you were more than adequate. As a man, you are an example, of how others should find themselves.” He gripped her tighter, and she felt the tickly scratch of his mustache to her skin as he couldn’t help himself and kissed her temple. “Te amo, Father.”

The display of gentleness that Gomez spoke of was how her mother and brother found them a few minutes later. She could feel Morticia’s misty gaze as she stared at them. Wednesday didn’t let go, but shifted in his arms, sitting almost halfway in his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder while her mother took the spot she’d abandoned on the loveseat and Pugsley squished between them. “Would you have any interest in taking supper up to the abandoned church tonight?”

Unable to help the slight smile that appeared on her face, Wednesday gave a nod and Gomez held one arm around hers, wrapping the other on the back of the couch, taking a handful of his wife’s hair, curling it around his palm.

Pugsley whined, “Do we have to do an after dinner seance this time?”

“Of course, not, darling, we’ve faced more than enough demons this year,” Morticia promised, squeezing his knee with a breathy chuckle and a wink at Wednesday. “I just thought the ambiance would be a perfect place for an evening picnic. When we drove past last week, I noticed even more of the front steps have rotted and caved in!”

“And the steeple completely collapsed in one of the spring windstorms, it’s entirely hazardous now,” Her father added.

“Lovely,” Wednesday whispered, still half-curled up with Gomez. “Perhaps I’ll collect some of the broken stained glass. I’m sure Emiliana would be able to craft something beautiful with it when she arrives in a few days.”

Several hours later found them on an old, black and white checkered blanket, with Wednesday having brought Augustus to explore. He was eager to get into the hallowed (and hollowed) remains of St. Gertrude, which had closed in her father’s childhood and been left to be taken over by nature, squatters, and urban explorers. With how he was acting so eager to get inside, Wednesday was pretty sure that the patron saint of rats and mice would be proud to know the ruins were living up to her namesake.

Morticia poured Wednesday a glass of leftover mead from the solstice, and she gave her a nod of thanks, sitting close to her father again, who handed her brother a cup of his own. “A toast,” He said firmly, clearing his throat. “That while we never forget where we come from – we allow some of our less desirable ideology to fall to shambles, such as this very sight before us. May we, as the current generation of the Addams family, always remember to gladly feast on those who would subdue us, while never biting into one another.”

Her mother put a hand over her heart, and the four clinked glasses and drank, though Morticia had to gross them all out as she came forward and kissed her father, ending with a playful nip to his lip, wanting to make sure that was still okay – and Wednesday gave her a push with a wrinkle of her nose to keep it from going any further than that in front of them. They ate together while Gomez gave a little bit more of the backstory that Wednesday had discovered to Pugsley, who practically nuzzled his father after, always content to be coddled and cuddled before going to blow something up.

As she contemplated everything while eating, Wednesday supposed they were also trying to distract her from her first night away from Enid since the incident. Wednesday let Augustus poke her chin with his snout, and she laid down before he shook his head as he slithered on top of her dramatically, pleading, want to seek the hiding, mama Wednesday!

“Okay, you need different cues for alerting me to my medical and psychic needs versus getting your own way. Let’s talk to Josie about that. Come on,” She sighed. “Let’s go.”

She took her last bite and polished off the mead, snatching up her bag to begin collecting material for her fellow Raven as she’d mentioned she would while Augusts dove off her neck, in a move that would have been like a jump if he had legs.

Wednesday pushed on a reliably broken piece of paneling that she’d used to sneak into the church for years. Augustus wove through first and she nodded when her mother asked if she wanted assistance in gathering broken pieces of the building. Morticia followed her in and breathed in a breath of contentment. “Nature taking over man’s desecration of her story. The true sacrament is how eternally, life prevails – where man fails.” She gestured to one of the Stations of the Cross on the wall, embedded forever as wood was covered in fungi, destroying the symbol.

“You were a nineties goth,” Wednesday started, watching her snake stalking after something in a torn-up pew. “Were you ever tempted by the Christian aesthetics that plagued the scene at the time?”

“Hardly,” Morticia promised her, rolling her eyes, glancing all around her. “I was grateful to be raised as an Outcast, without one religion or another – free from any particular tradition, other than how the Frumps took what was meaningful to them over time and turned it into their own magic and practice. I hope that you have appreciated being raised the same way. I cannot think of a single organized religion that would have been a good fit for you. But of course, you are free to explore, darling, I’d never hold you back.”

Wednesday crouched down, taking a jar from her bag and beginning to carefully fill it as she found old nails and pieces of broken, colorful glass. “I would be hypocritical not to acknowledge that I understand the desire to create a space that is beautiful. I find the architecture of many churches and temples to be so classically ornamental, elegant…dramatic. I also appreciate all the rituals – probably because I like consistency and don’t cope well with change. However, having it prescribed as a requirement, I find so unpersonal. How can you seek meaning when you are scripted what to say? How does that match with one’s intentions?”

“Such as the practice of making one’s own Grimoire, I suppose.” Morticia scooped Augustus out of a broken candle holder, telling him, “Careful, little one.”

He curled up in her hand for a moment, peaking at her – waiting for direction. Wednesday smirked, her braids falling in front of her. “It’s okay,” She promised, coming to pet the top of his head. “We just want you to be safe. There’s a lot of mold, rust and debris in here. I’m proficient at reptile treatment, but Josie won’t be here for a few days if you really hurt yourself.” Wednesday looked around with a sigh, spotting some old fabric near the baptismal font – perhaps remnants of vestments, Lent-season, if she had to guess from the purple. Folding it neatly after shaking off the dust, she figured Emiliana could sew something fun with it. After adding enough to her collection that her jar was full and her bag was stuffed, Wednesday watched as Morticia stared up at a depiction of a man on a cross.

“I suppose the other reason I never wanted to expose you to this was that I never wanted you to think for a moment, you’d ever need a savior,” Morticia said firmly. “There is such thing as sin, but hardly such so, that the wage to sin is death as they claim. Everyone errs, everyone makes mistakes. It is how we seek to resolve our faults that defines us, not how we casually ask an invisible divinity for forgiveness. It is in who we make ourselves out to be, after committing grievous offenses, that shapes us.”

Wednesday lifted a shoulder. “We do not need men to save us,” She started, glancing at Morticia with those gentle features that her father had spoken about earlier in the day. “But it is okay to allow them to comfort us, after we partake in those horrible deeds. Such as father comforting either of us, after our cardinal sin.”

Her mother sucked in a breath of air, drawing her hand over Wednesday’s back. “You said your father wasn’t capable of murder – and it is so true. But that he would give up everything, to cover up that I committed, and then return to me and shield me from myself? That was a comfort that I suppose those who practice this find in their god. I find myself so lucky to have it, in the true physical arms of the one I love.” She tipped Wednesday’s chin towards her. “And I know he provided you all the same. Your father is a man of his own creation, and we are fortunate to have him. Come – let us give him the opportunity to treat his girls; I think there is still a Copperhead burrow not too far from here. Just tell your snake to stick close.”

Wednesday allowed herself to be successfully distracted with the regular sort of Addams family antics until it was later than even she and Enid would usually go to bed. Feeling a pit in her stomach that she might have missed something from her girlfriend during that time, Wednesday took her phone out quickly around one o’clock when she promised her mother, she was going to try to sleep alone (but appreciated her offer to make sure she and her father slept clothed that night should Wednesday need her). She was almost disappointed when she realized she didn’t have a missed call – though Enid had sent her a text around eleven.

Hi! (bat emoji)(black heart emoji) I am so dog tired, I probably don’t even need mama’s potion but I’m taking it anyway! (crystal ball emoji)(snoring face emoji) I had such a great first day. I’m sorry I can’t call right now but I just got out of the shower and I’m going to actually fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow! I love you so much! I miss you!

Feeling her heart pounding away at the message, Wednesday wished that Enid had also taken a photo of herself before going to sleep. Sighing, she put Augustus in his enclosure and wished him goodnight before taking herself a long bath, missing Enid in it keenly.

She wore just an oversized black t-shirt that Enid had done a bleach dye job with smiley faces all over for her in the sun. Taking the picture of them kissing together in the fields on the solstice into her hands, Wednesday stared at it for a long time – missing her…wanting her…wishing there was a way to show her just how much she was loved. Her father had gone to jail for her mother to keep her from pain…Wednesday had been so miserable and caught up in her own drama, her girlfriend was kidnapped and buried alive on her way to seek out help for her.

How would she ever live up to the legacy that Gomez had established?

Trying to think beyond that, she touched her own lips, thinking about the feeling of Enid’s on hers.

Soft…tenderness…gentleness…

Those were the other things that her father wanted for his children – for them to experience in their relationships.

Rolling onto her stomach, she stared at the picture harder, thinking about how lovestruck Enid was in that field, how easily she gave into kisses, not caring who saw or captured the moment.

Returning to her other storm of thoughts from before the solstice, regarding how eager Enid was to shower her with love in any physical way, and the whole concept still seemed so anxiety-fueling, Wednesday swallowed hard and laid her head down on her pillow, staring at Enid’s empty one.

Something Wednesday needed to identify were the exact reasons why she had such an impasse when it came to intimacy. Looking at the picture, thinking about how Enid deserved more, how she deserved everything, Wednesday flipped her head over, putting her other cheek on the pillow, watching the small clock in the room flicker over to two o’clock. She stared – each minute passing by at regular, mechanical intervals that felt three times longer than usual.

Finally, around three, she sat up, staring at her phone – expecting Enid to call during the witching hour.

At three fifty-five, when there was still no new notification, she couldn’t tell if she was elated that her potion had held up, and Enid was managing to sleep through the night without fear, or devastated – that she wouldn’t need Wednesday that way anymore…

Opening her beside drawer, she took out her own sleeping potion and downed the proper amount, putting it away so that if her mother came in concerned in the morning, she didn’t think she’d taken too much of it. Not quite going to bed yet, she tugged a basket out from under the bed, revealing a small portion of Enid’s collection of stuffed animals that had made it to New Jersey.

Really considering what she wanted, Wednesday stared hard at the black sheep they’d picked out together in the winter at a children’s toy store. Thinking of her uncle’s words to her, combining with all the other racing thoughts in her head, she selected it, then rolled all the way over to the other side of the bed, standing and stretching for Enid’s dresser, picking her favorite of her many perfumes she’d left behind. Repeating motions from when she’d been away from her at Larissa’s cottage with Holly, she spritzed the scent all over the plush, then forced herself back between the sheets. Lying on her side, she held it tight to her chest, inhaling the smell of her girlfriend, and finally letting drowsiness take her to sleep.

X

Four days into her separation from Enid, and Wednesday was sure that ennui was the only appropriate word for her state.

Every day felt tedious, dull and uninspired without her. She forced herself to stick to a routine – she had homework to do and had increased her time spent with her mother on her meditation practices nearly double (to the point where she was starting to suspect Morticia might be tired of her before it was the other way around that summer).

Meanwhile, Enid was having the time of her life. As Wednesday listened to her under the shade of an evergreen tree as she collected needles for a spell, she heard the genuine satisfaction that Enid had at receiving some critical feedback to apply to her next session with a monologue coach.

“I just never thought I’d be so excited to be told that I wasn’t doing a good job!” She giggled, staring at Wednesday on FaceTime between the end of her dinner hour and her evening ballet class – the only free one she had that day.

“Well, that’s not what he said, just that there’s room for improvement,” Wednesday said half mindlessly. “I think that until we know we can respect someone, their feedback is hard to accept. Such as me never honoring what the publishers had said regarding my novel, but fully accepting Ms. Franklin’s opinions on it. I had almost an entire semester with her, when I entrusted my manuscripts to her, and knew that I could value what she had to say. Working with professionals in your industry, instead of know-it-all seniors with half your talent forecast in drama club at a school not exactly known for its theater department – that’s a huge difference.”

Enid was staring at her with bright, but tired eyes. “For sure, that makes sense. These mentors are not my competition, so – all they really want is what’s best for me!”

“Not your competition yet,” Wednesday joked a little, putting seven more needles into her jar before capping it, sighing as she stared at her. “You promise, you’re still sleeping through the night and not just hiding me from your nightmares so that I’m not upset over not being there with you?”

“I promise,” Enid said firmly. “Even if I didn’t have your potion – I think that fourteen hours or more a day of intense training like this would knock me out for the night regardless, but I wouldn’t want to chance a night without it, since I’m sleeping with a box fan in the window and waking up screaming would be supes embarrassing…all of Morningside hearing me howling.”

“You don’t howl,” Wednesday grumbled but smirked a little.

“How’s your sleep? You slept alone again, last night?”

Sleep was a loose term for what Wednesday was managing – but she’d survived being alone in her bed each night that Enid had been gone. She briefly considered forcing her way into Pugsley’s bunkbed, but – his room smelled like feet in the worst way. Her granny had offered, too – but Wednesday wanted to prove to herself that she could handle the night alone. Was she proving it? Well – she was still there, anyway. Handling it? To remain seen.

“The sheep helps,” She said, in a way befitting of the animal. “Picturing you – beside me…it helps.”

Enid raised her eyebrows suggestively. “And just how are you picturing me?”

“Don’t do that,” Wednesday groaned – unable to stand that sort of teasing, especially from far away.

“Alright, alright. Just know – I picture you in many different sorts of ways before I fall asleep,” She could hear the wink in her voice. “I won’t tell you – since it’ll just make you blush. It is different, falling asleep thinking about you instead of being next to you.”

Needing the conversation to end, Wednesday quickly switched it as Augustus bopped the front facing camera in a perfect beat of timing. Telling Enid about how adventurous he was every time she left the tower lately, Enid said he was probably experiencing his juvenile rebellion phase.

“Oh! I’ve got to go,” Enid said as a sound was heard in the background. “The barre waits for no woman!”

“Have fun,” Wednesday said sincerely. “Don’t let your feet sickle.”

“I won’t,” She giggled, winking. “Hey! I love you. I miss you. But – the tutor from the spring really gave me a leg up,” She actually laughed out loud to herself. “Anyway – I’m already totally surpassing like, even the girls in the class who have been doing this since they were toddlers!”

Watching just how delighted she was to be in her element, Wednesday waved and sighed after promising how much she loved her and wished her luck.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the pinecones on the tree, willing enough of them to fall out and knock her on the head and out early for the night. Relaying Enid’s good fortunate to the family when she was asked to open up that night at dinner, she tried not to feel a little prickle of jealousy at the back of her neck as her parents spoke so highly of Enid’s progress.

After eating just enough to keep her alarm from screaming, she asked her mother for a late start as she found herself with the need to escape stronger than it had been in a little while. After tucking her snake into his substrate, Wednesday went all the way up to the tower and sat down at her desk, looking at her to-do list for school and trying to convince herself that she also had a handle on her own future.

Except – despite the fact that she was two thirds of the way through her fifth college class, and she hadn’t even started her senior year of high school, Wednesday felt like…Enid was somehow, so much further ahead than she was.

With a new stream of consciousness and self-deprecating thoughts, she sought to control them in the only way she knew how. It was Tuesday, anyway – her call would be expected. She hadn’t called with the summer holiday the week before and then not wanted to waste a moment with Enid but…

Her phone connected as she hoped and her greeting was a very posh, yet sweet, “Good evening, Wednesday – just a moment, please.”

There was a little rustling noise, some voices and the closing of a door. “That’s more like it. What’s on your mind, hm?”

Larissa Weems could read Wednesday better than the majority people on the earth, and she wasn’t even with her. “If I’m interrupting -”

“Nonsense, it’s a Tuesday evening, I was figuring you’d call. It’s just a Tuesday night with my in-laws, as are about three or four nights a week this summer,” She paused to chuckle. “I would not have it any other way, but – they can miss me for a tick. This is the start of your absence, from Enid, is it not?” Giving just the slightest grunt of correct, she let Larissa continue. “Well – we shall get to that, then. How was your solstice celebration?”

“A mostly traditional, symbolic affair. There were a few places that I wished I hadn’t found myself, but I was able to escape them with relative quickness. Are administrative duties nearly completed?”

“Indeed – almost everything has wrapped and the work in general has slowed considerably, where I finish most days before one o’clock. Less than two weeks and Holly and I are off until mid-August. Obviously, I have plenty to work on related to the Network – but shall be doing so from the cottage shores.”

“Perhaps,” Wednesday sighed, hating to ask anything of her, but feeling that of all the tasks she could burden Larissa with, pleading for something to do with her future wouldn’t be the most troublesome. “Perhaps you could help me come up with something, then.”

“What on earth for? Don’t you have an online course and meditation work to do? Are you doubting your light seeking abilities?”

“No. Yes – I do, have a class, and I am working hard with my mother. But…I feel…” She sighed into the phone. “I want something that is more aligned with what I am going to do with my future – what we discussed, how you will be working with me in the fall.”

There was a beat, and as she predicted, her principal and surrogate aunt knew her far too well. “Are you jealous about Enid’s opportunity this summer?”

“Jealous isn’t the word, but – if there was a spectrum and jealousy was on it, I would likely fall somewhere on that continuum.”

“Tell me why, when you are already even further ahead than even I nor Josie were, who previously held the records for seniors trying to get ahead of their college studies at Nevermore? You already have a clear vision of what it is you will be doing; you know how this is all going to work out for you.”

“But I don’t have a clear vision! If anything, my visions have made the prospect of my future more confusing and put me at odds with myself.”

With a little rustling sound from the speaker, Larissa explained, “You are going to hate what I tell you, then – so, prepare to huff and hang up in anger, and I’ll be here, later in the week or month when you change your mind. It sounds like it is actually less of the future you need to worry about and be prepared for, and more so – just the present.”

Holding back a small growl in an effort not to prove Larissa’s point, Wednesday grumbled, “How so?”

“If you are at odds with yourself, it seems like you may be experiencing a conundrum of who you are at the moment – which would not surprise me. You experienced such growth, so quickly – were forced to make decisions and grapple with power that should not have been yours until you’d well developed more critical reasoning skills.”

“I have plenty of critical reasoning abilities,” Wednesday argued.

“Biologically speaking, you’ve still got nearly ten years to go before that all comes together, darling. I am sorry to say, that no – you simply cannot yet be as reflective on the nature of everything that has happened, because your brain isn’t fully developed yet. Don’t argue with science, Wednesday.”

At the use of her name, she bit back the sharp comment on her tongue, trying to swallow her desire to be correct versus the likely truth from the field of neurology.

When Wednesday tried and failed to start four different defenses of herself, Larissa patiently, but with her edge of sternness wondered, “Do you want to argue with me, or do you want my advice?” She didn’t respond. Larissa let out a small breath and explained, “I’m sorry that this is not what you want to hear, and no – I am not going to give you something complicated to work on for your future. I have actually given you something already, that would likely very much help you to better understand yourself. When you know yourself well, you can better acknowledge what pitfalls to address and what strengths will guide you as you move forward. Wednesday, have you yet to open up that Mimic book much beyond when you first had interest in it, back in the early months of winter, when you only had a name of the Network president, no idea what it would mean?”

Feeling a flare of anxiety light up under her, she rolled her eyes. “I have the book.”

“I think that going through it, finding what may be relevant, what applies to you - what was only fiction and rumor, it would be a good place to begin. If you want to prepare for your future, start by understanding yourself in the present. Learning more about what it means to be a Mimic, the only one of your kind in possible centuries, I think will help you tremendously. You could also consider finally going through with an updated psychiatric exam, that you have long refused to the point where it forced you to end your therapy appointments – don’t tell me you stopped going just because you were busy.”

Having no words, Wednesday wanted to end the call passive aggressively. She stared at the numbers increasing with the length of the time that she’d been speaking to Larissa, feeling more stuck than she had before calling her.

“It is in knowing who we are that we can make ourselves who we want to be,” Larissa quietly, sweetly tried to speak to her. “I ignored many of the parts of me that made me a whole person for years. There were devastating consequences to that. I do not wish the same for you, my dear.” With another long stretch of silence, her aunt figure said, “This feels different, because we are not together for me to be on the receiving end of your pouting and glares. And I cannot swoop you into a side hug and feed you to get you moving through the next part of digesting what it is I have said to you, that was not what you wanted to hear. I’m going to talk to your mother and ask that she physically work you through some of this disappointment tonight. I need to speak with her anyway, actually.” Larissa let out a small sigh. “You have the tools you need to get through this time. I hope you find yourself able to use them. Goodnight, Wednesday.”

As the call ended, Wednesday shoved herself back in her desk chair, flopping into one of the armchairs by the window in her library, watching the sunset through the faded feelings of things just being so – unsettled, uncertain…not right.

It was a while before her mother arrived to pull her through it all, black robe trailing – a vintage-style pinup swimsuit on; she’d been enjoying an evening down in the hot springs of the cavern it seemed…or maybe – was about to head down there…?

Wednesday couldn’t meet her with words, and Morticia wasn’t expecting them. “It’s been a long day,” She spoke, running a hand over the leather of the chair that her daughter sat in. “Would you come soak it all away with me?”

Following silently, Wednesday changed into her usual two-piece, short and shirt style suit. She glanced at Morticia’s – high cut at the thigh, with a plunging neckline…extremely mature yet incredibly classic at the same time. She looked at her own and felt herself slump, feeling like even her style choices kept her behind…and with no idea how she’d muster up the ability to change that. Enid would probably look trendy and…hot, frankly, in a two-piece bikini once they made it to a lake in the summer, and Wednesday in her braids and old-fashioned, children’s style suit would still look like she was struggling to find her place in the world and really, in her own body. How symbolic.

Morticia took a tray from Lurch as they prepared to take the pully elevator down to the caverns, thanking him politely before they made it to the steaming room.

Pleased and annoyed that her father hadn’t managed to join them, as it would mean her mother would probably want a full confessional, Wednesday just slipped into the water, irritated that Enid wasn’t there to kiss her half-appropriately. Morticia climbed in beside her after twisting her long locks up into a bat-shaped claw clip. She sat on the edge with a long sigh out before taking a drink, handing it over to Wednesday, then one for herself. “Since it’s come up recently,” She started, obviously about to tell a story of her own in an attempt to relate to her seventeen-year-old. “The night that everything happened with Garett, the person whom I needed the most outside of your father, was Larissa Weems. She didn’t want to be there; she didn’t have to be there – but she was. And after initially being startled and put-out, because she didn’t know the circ*mstance to which she’d witnessed a murder, she was on my side for all of it. Much like she supported you doing what you had to, she felt the same about the actions I took. But she also warned me – there were to be consequences that I could not yet see. She’s grating that way,” Morticia let out a breathy chuckle. “Without ever having seen the future, she has a knack for knowing what to expect regarding it. She’s not a perfect person, but Larissa’s advice is rarely ever wrong, even if it makes you want to scream and throw glass.”

Wednesday sipped at the drink, realizing it was a sangria of some kind, a mild wine with summer fruits, likely freshly muddled. She glanced at Morticia, asking with her eyes only – to reinforce or reject what Larissa had said to her. “While this will be more productive if you respond, I can simply talk too, if that’s what you prefer.” Giving a barely-there nod, Wednesday waited. “Alright. I think…Larissa is right and wrong. Wrong in that there is probably more we could be doing to prepare you for the future. I’ve actually asked if Josie could follow up with it for you once I spoke to your father and he had an idea regarding that. I think she might be better connected than I to make something happen. We could find some more updated law books than we have in our home collection, and you could start to memorize those in the very unique way that you do. That might make you feel like you are preparing more for the future.” She tilted her head. “But I think Larissa is right, in that we ought to focus in on the present, and the things that you are keenly avoiding, my darling girl. I didn’t realize you had a resource regarding your Mimic abilities. Why on earth have you not taken advantage of it?”

Still quiet, she contemplated the question. Wednesday had half an answer, but still, not the ability to vocalize it. She put her drink down and stepped forward in the water, right in front of her mother – asking without words or gestures for comfort. Morticia, thankfully, after so many years of struggling, could finally recognize her cues. She put her own beverage to the side and folded Wednesday to her, where she rested her cheek on the side of her shoulder, breathing in the distinct scent of rosemary that she must’ve been working with that day. Wednesday didn’t wind her arms around her, but lingered close, just…

…

Sighing, at least finally making a vocal sound, she let Morticia put a hand on the back of her head. “Might I make assumptions about what it is regarding your ability that is plaguing you?” Indifferent, she shrugged. Morticia wondered, “Is it that it was cause for you to be targeted, by the head of the Network?”

Not really – yes, at the time that it came out – but that was over. Anyone who knew had been a threat to her was locked up in maximum security or dead.

Shaking her head, as it wasn’t the real issue, Wednesday waited for her mother to come up with another theory. “My other thought is…that perhaps – as Larissa explained to me, you don’t like that the book is full of theories. You don’t like that it’s uncertain and possibly inaccurate, so you aren’t sure if it’s worth your time.”

That might’ve been more it.

“Before the solstice, I tried to use my Mimic abilities to imitate what it is the doctors at school do – the twins,” She confessed, finally speaking. “I thought maybe they didn’t remove enough of Enid’s feelings regarding the event…Then, I recognized, what the consequence of that would be, and I stopped before I could enact it.”

Morticia sat on the side of the springs’ ledge again, inviting Wednesday to sit beside her, asking her to explain more, which she did – about how the feelings would transfer to her, and because she’d experienced the event, then she’d have compounding trauma for Enid to have to deal with.

“What are your feelings, overall, about being a Mimic, Wednesday?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It’s come in practically, a few times. But it largely feels like a cliché, like an undeserved reward that is so full of repercussions, I can hardly utilize it.” Wednesday furrowed her brow. “And what am I? Am I a Raven, who started out destined for the dark? Or was I always a Mimic? Did I somehow copy Emiliana’s powers when she was here, in utero?”

“To be a Mimic is to be selected by the Spirits, supposedly. I think you were a Raven first, darling girl, and everything with Crackstone and Goody forced you to take on power that way.”

Frowning, Wednesday stared straight ahead. “But our records denote that historically, there is only one Raven in our timeline. How have there been two sharing the earth for seventeen years?”

“Love?” Her mother said in a simple tone, as if it were so easily explained. “Sardonically and seriously – love. Ravens hadn’t previously been able to tap into that before. With supportive structures in place, hopefully Ravens of the modern age will far outlive those of the past.”

“Don’t say that like Imogen Zypher lacked love in her life,” Wednesday warned.

“Darling, I don’t mean that,” Morticia said thickly, looking up. “I’ve spent more than one long night with her father. I know how much she was adored. But she didn’t have the ability to accept that his love would be enough for her in return, because – Quinton got there first, planting his seed of evil in her mind that unfortunately, Hugh did not have the resources to remove it, nor did he even know it was there.”

Wednesday turned around, her knees on the ledge, arms folded, resting her face down on them. “I don’t even want to be a lawyer,” She whispered, diverting the topic back to the future. “I feel like destiny’s plaything.”

“Oh, Wednesday,” Morticia let out a long breath and settled a hand on her back – a poor move, and she should’ve known to be more careful when Wednesday was so sensitive.

The year became obvious within the first few moments of the vision. An adult version of Wednesday entered a modest size living room that could’ve only belonged to one couple; based on the number of plants and bird décor on the shelves. She looked exhausted – bags under her eyes, hair limp, down – not even braided to the sides in the back like she’d seen in most visions of herself. Upon gazing at her options, she sat down on the end of a couch, curling into it.

She was followed by nonother than Larissa Weems, who carried two mugs of tea, taking a seat beside Wednesday, placing her own cup down, putting a hand on her back in an attempt to gain her attention. “Have you let your mother or wife know that you’re here, Wednesday?”

She shook her head, staring into the distance, unable to even lift the mug to her lips.

“I’ll send a message,” Larissa sighed, disappearing again for a moment before returning. “You’re hardly twenty-four hours out of a hospital stay for failing to take care of yourself; and I’m fairly sure you’re missing an exam, are you not?”

“They gave me an extension,” Wednesday replied, her voice like gravel.

“Sip the tea, my dear.” Larissa sighed, putting a hand on the back of the sofa as she complied. “You should be in bed.”

“The Network meeting tomorrow -”

“You were supposed to miss it due to your finals! Honestly -”

“Since I don’t have to be there, I thought I should be here. I want to hear the arguments on the legislation that I proposed.”

“It may be an open session, but it’s not up for debate among members; it’s an executive decision.” Wednesday looked like she was going to be sick. Larissa once again dropped her irritation. “I’m setting you up in a guest bed, come on, this is ridiculous.”

“Larissa, I – oh, like – she’s here-here, not just in Jericho…Wednesday, you don’t look so good,” Holly appeared from wherever she’d been – a pot on her hip with browning tips of greenery. “When was the last time you ate?”

Wednesday had a faraway look and Larissa let out a long breath, opening Wednesday’s bag and taking out her blood sugar monitor, giving a chastising sound before opening a pouch and removing a gel, ripping it open. “No wonder you’re falling apart. My goodness, were you not just hospitalized for this exact carelessness?”

Her lips surrounded the packet, but it wobbled before she could suck it down. Larissa grew gentle in her eyes as Holly placed the plant down on the coffee table and approached. “Come on – get the sugar in you, darling, we’ll rest and talk this over when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“I’m not going to feel better until I see the results,” She whispered after managing the packet, taking a sip of the tea when Larissa gently touched her elbow to get her attention. “I need to know that the rest of the Network takes this as seriously as I do.”

“I’m confident they will. Everything you’ve ever brought forward has been passed unanimously. Your ideas are always valued.”

“This one is more selfish than the rest,” Wednesday whispered, her hands trembling as she tried to put the cup down. “I’m essentially asking for protection.”

“After your scare a few months ago, I think that’s valid. Wednesday, you’re very much not yourself, while simultaneously being quite down on yourself. This isn’t you, my dear – tell me, is this all to do with your scare, or is this something more?”

There was a flash, and Wednesday was tucked into a plush bed, with a white cat making itself comfortable beside her on the green quilt. Larissa sat beside her. Wednesday was staring straight off into the distance. “I thought that the future would be easier when I got to it. Am I going to be fighting with myself like this for the rest of my life?”

“We’re always seeking to improve ourselves. Even five years into my Network role, I constantly wonder if I could be doing better, if I’m doing the right thing. All that means is that we care, deeply, about the work we do. But honestly, Wednesday, I’ve said it before – you must care for who you are today if you want to improve tomorrow. That includes listening to your doctors, following your diet and medication plans, and making sure you’re communicating with everyone around you. In what should not be any surprise at all, your mother and Enid are both quite flustered with you taking off as you did.”

“I came here, though,” She whispered, staring into space.

“Yes,” Larissa put a gentle hand on her back, shaking her head. “I’m glad you felt comfortable doing so. But if it is your future you are concerned about, being present with those who care the most is the best way to ensure it, Wednesday.”

She came out of the disheartening vision to find that she had been moved up to her room, and was still in her swimsuit, though the fabric was dry…it had been a while, Wednesday sat up, hiding a groan, realizing it was dark in her room. Wiping a hand over her face, she hurried into a pair of pajamas before realizing it was already after midnight.

The vision hadn’t felt that long…she must’ve fallen asleep after it.

X

Wednesday could sense them coming nearly a quarter mile down the road. She paused her video lecture and tore out of her tower library so fast that she nearly tripped going down the stairs. The commotion she caused was followed up by her mother – who’d been working in the formal sitting room, chasing her barefoot out the front door, where a familiar black SUV pulled up to the manor. She made to open the passenger side door, but Morticia gently scooped her backwards into a hold, which she instinctively fought. She whispered, “Remember what happens when you and your fellow Raven touch after some time apart?”

Frowning and deflating just a bit, Wednesday gave a tiny, sharp nod. Emiliana opened the door herself, looking a little wild with her hair pulled into something like a messy bun, or…knot – shoeless, of course, with a host of new bangles up her left arm, a tangle of jewelry around her neck, and two snakes in her lap. “Hey, you!” Josie said in a long laugh as Wednesday broke out of her mother’s hold for the safer one of her mentor.

Josie held her tight, squeezing Wednesday flush to her shoulder. “I’ve missed you,” She said softly. “We’ve got so much to catch up on, oh – Em, babe…”

Predictably, Emiliana was caught up in a host of fabric and items that she’d had in the car to keep her busy and behaving on a long drive. Wednesday rolled her eyes as Josie helped her stash the fidgets and craft supplies into a bag, then take both snakes around her own shoulders and her hands. Emiliana let out a bit of a laugh into her smoker’s cough before hugging her wife for obvious stability and turning to Wednesday.

There was something just a little bit more…off about her than usual. Her left eye was almost half-shut, not twitching like usual. Tilting her head, wanting to honestly reach out and touch the muscle that was usually throbbing and ask what was going on, Wednesday let Morticia intercept her once again. “Let’s go to a soft surface for a proper reunification, alright, blackbirds?”

Emiliana looked like a newborn calf, regaining her footing for the first few steps before she was walking normally up the front stairs, Josie hovering behind her dutifully. The entire ordeal was just more odd than usual, and Wednesday was trying to mind herself not to bark out her questions that demanded answers. They moved down the hall to Morticia’s study, where she unrolled two of the yoga mats that Enid and Wednesday had been using in their practice. She added a bucket with a liner, prepared to protect her space from either of them vomiting, then set up Wednesday on the edge of one mat while Josie got Emiliana on the other, working seamlessly for a safe interaction, both sitting cross-legged behind them.

As expected, touching Emiliana for the first time in over a month was like live wire. Emiliana didn’t even get to let out her standard nickname before she fell back just before Wednesday did – both caught by their trusted loved ones as they went down hard.

She hadn’t spoken to Emiliana at all during their break from one another when the Addams family left for New Jersey mid-week after the wedding. Josie had said that her wife had turned off her phone the day they were married and wouldn’t be turning it back on again until her research pulled them away from one another. Wednesday had texted Josie on and off, about once a week or so – but hadn’t wanted to be horribly disruptive during their honeymoon trip and subsequent time off they were spending in newlywed bliss…

…except it seemed, it wasn’t quite all that.

She shouldn’t have been so surprised that the universe would be so cruel. It was just another reminder to Wednesday, that Ravens weren’t destined to have nice things.

Josie was sitting with Emiliana on the couch of the cottage as she came to from a vision, letting out a breath of relief as Hugh approached with a trash can that she promptly turned over to throw up into. There was a hubbub of chaos and movement – everything flashing in rapid beats from what Emiliana was going through before she was shivering in the bath. Josie was cooing and apologizing – wearing a cropped t-shirt with some sort of athletic shorts on, her own hair uncharacteristically tangled up in a low, messy bun.

“I’m sorry, I know you hate this – but…we’ve got to bring the fever down, baby. It’s dangerously high right now. Five more minutes, okay?”

Emiliana clenched her teeth, holding her elbows. Thin, dark hair was limp around her cheeks, and the black makeup she’d had around her eyes was running, making her look like she a half-drowned raccoon.

“Bien-aimeé, aide-moi.”

“Oui,” Josie replied to her request for help and kissed her temple. “I’m always here to help, whatever you need, baby. You haven’t…gone down that hard since…that week before the wedding, in the tunnels. It might take all night before you’re feeling better. But I’m here the whole time, this time, okay? Papa’s here, if we need him…it’s just us. I’ve got you, in a way I haven’t been able to assist in a minute.”

She was dressed in a thin, short black nightgown shortly after, her hair drying in stringy ringlets from not being styled. As Josie held up one of her blue princess water bottles and alternated between that and toast, Hugh was lining up a host of medications and potions. “What do you think, tad – sleeping aids or none?”

She forced the toast into her wife’s hand and cupped Emiliana’s cheek, tilting her head, staring hard at her facial features. Emiliana’s left eye wasn’t just twitching a little, it was pulsing and swollen. “sh*t,” Josie muttered, asking for her reptile examination goggles.

When Hugh brought them over, she tugged them on quickly, apologizing to her for what she was about to do and turning on the light. When Emiliana didn’t immediately recoil, Josie’s look of concern only grew. She frowned as she got closer, pulling a magnifying lens over them, directing Emiliana to look up, to the left, to the right. She couldn’t comply with most of the requests, merely let out a whine. Turning them off and starting to feel around the back of her head for any new lumps, Josie asked, “In the most non-accusatory way – I have to know, did you fall or hit your head and not tell me?”

“You have been with me, Josie!”

“Right, but – we’ve both had our short share of alone time, too. Is there anything you remember, at all, that might explain this? That was a long vision – but I caught you, you didn’t knock out physically, just psychically.”

Emiliana was silent for a long minute and Josie looked like she was barely keeping her patience together as she more sharply, but still keeping the moment sweet as possible, needed to know, “What can you recall? Tell me, Em. You take your morning walk, after you smoke – you’re gone for like an hour…that’s really been it, but – did you trip, or try to climb something and fall out of a tree?” When she was still silent, Josie squeezed her hand. “Emiliana. Come on, I’m serious. What’s been going on during your walks?”

The Raven let out a bubble of a cry, before managing, “Hi – my name is Dory.”

The redhead paled and looked at Hugh, who wondered, “Should I call Rodman?”

“He’s in the U.K. – it’s…” She glanced at the time on the stove, “Four in the morning there. Babe…I know this is a really dumb question, but can you tell me – do you think were you having memory problems during the two weeks of our trip? Or has it been since we got back?”

“I…I am not sure,” She replied as another tear fell. “I was…noticing, perhaps – yesterday, for the time of first, that I would come from the wood and not recall that I had even been in there. I…should not have gone, today, but – I like the routine, and Piper is with me; if I had fallen – she would know, yes?”

Josie sat up and kissed the top of her head, letting out a long, worried sigh.

“No matter what occurred, you are not responsible, Josie.”

The vision flashed to Larissa hovering over Emiliana, suggesting, “I’m not sure this is going to be the solution you have dreamed up – I cannot take on the psychic power of the person I shift into. Perhaps Wednesday could use your power as a Mimic – since she’s been on the receiving end of it, but I can’t shift into another functional psychic type. Besides, I’ve been on the potion for several months now…”

Dr. Rodman sighed with a shrug from where he was at on FaceTime on Josie’s phone. “I thought it might be worth an ask. There is no way I can leave this study early, unfortunately – for a non-hospitalization emergency, at least. I’ve ducked out on a lot over the last year, I really need to see this one through. Especially when we don’t even know what triggered it. Her symptoms worry me, but it…I mean, it could always be critical with Emiliana, but Josephine, I have to -”

“I understand,” Josie sighed, likely relating to his academic quests. “Do you at least want me to take her into town, have her brain scanned to compare to her last one?”

“That is what I’d suggest, yes. And – patch the good eye for about six hours a day. I don’t want the muscles to deteriorate any worse than they have from lack of use as she relies too much on the right side.”

At that, Emiliana whined.

Josie just offered her a sweet smile. “I’ll pull out your pirate hat – you always have fun with that. Thank you, Dr. Rodman. I’ll call up there and see if they can get us in ASAP.”

The vision moved forward to Emiliana having a full meltdown, clutching Josie’s shoulders and being incredibly difficult for the staff who were trying to get her into a machine at the hospital. Josie sweetly asked them for a minute, lowering her wife to lay down and stretching out beside her, wiping her tears, and kissing her cheek repeatedly. “You know what you’d tell Wednesday right now?” Emiliana trembled. Josie gave a little giggle. “You’d tell her to cut the sh*t,” She whispered, kissing above her ear. “So – I’ll offer you your own advice. This will be over in an hour, we’ll get your labs done, and go home, okay?”

“Please, I can have a Beanie Baby?” She muttered into Josie’s shoulder.

Her wife smirked a little, sitting up and moving across the floor to her backpack. “I’ve brought you Neon and Goochy.”

Emiliana reached her hands out for a velvety-pastel seahorse and a jellyfish, deciding, “Sea creatures were a choice most appropriate.”

“So glad,” Josie giggled. She stroked her cheeks. Emiliana put the jellyfish down and used that hand to brush over the top of Josie’s, circling around her wedding ring. “Listen – you go through the machine on the first try, without making them stop for an Emi-reason, have your blood drawn, and we can stop by the antique store on the way home and get you a new Beanie for being so good, okay?”

She sniffed and nodded, the procedure apparently going fine as she was holding a dolphin, bean-filled plush in her hands on the way back into the cottage, before collapsing backwards –

The vision ended abruptly and Wednesday gasped as she sat up, her own eyes moving wildly for a moment as Morticia put a hand on her back, rubbing a slow circle, likely trying to figure out if she was going to hurl. “Are you alright?”

“Em?” She ignored her mother, beyond concerned as Emiliana was still fitfully visioning in Josie’s hold. Her wife was gently stroking her worry lines on her forehead with her thumb. When Wednesday got close, prepared to move the vision if she could, or end it completely, she found herself sucking in a breath of surprise and scrunching her own brow as Josie’s fingers clutched her wrist in a tight hold, squeezing so hard, it was sure to leave a mark.

“Do not f*ck with her brain right now, Wednesday! I’m so, so serious!”

Yanking away from her with an irritated huff, Wednesday asked, “What did they find on the brain scan? And to follow that up, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Emi begged me not to tell you, because you’d just worry,” Josie replied sternly. She sighed, rubbing Emiliana’s shoulder. “It’s been a long two weeks. However, she is doing okay, better than I expected when we first noticed. More or less, she’s just out of it, which is a lot easier to handle than some of her other side-effects and meltdowns of the past. You had your next appointment with Dr. Rodman pushed back a little, because Emi has one scheduled, too, that’s a lot more pressing. You can share a room at Princeton’s finest teaching hospital,” She said quietly.

“But what exactly did they find on her brain scan?” Wednesday questioned with clenched teeth. Morticia tried to soothe her and Wednesday pulled away in an epic pout. “Don’t pacify me, just tell me the truth!”

Josie wore a look of near regret. Wednesday couldn’t tell if it was from keeping secrets or from already having to deal with Wednesday’s attitude after hardly reuniting with just over a month apart. “There is a blockage in her shunt, which has led to some fluid buildup. It’s not critical – and since she largely hasn’t lost major motor function, we’d rather wait for Dr. Rodman to be the one to fix it than trust someone else. But – we are being very, very careful in the meantime. Emiliana cannot be without supervision. I tried to cancel my work trip – but Em was entirely too stubborn to allow that once she’d accepted it back in the spring. She had a meltdown worse than almost any I’d seen from you when I dared to suggest changing plans. I don’t want to talk about it. Thankfully, your mother, father, and grandmothers have generously offered to keep the plan in place, provided if she’s with a member of the family during her waking hours.”

Wednesday felt like her own brain was swimming in fluid as her body flooded with fear chemicals suddenly – perhaps, a bit misplaced. “She has memory loss, vision loss, and unsteady coordination and you’re just going to leave her with us?”

Taking a breath, Josie stroked Emiliana’s side as she twitched. “I’m going to trust her with you, with her family, Wednesday, because that is what she wants. Her symptoms are not horribly severe. Em is really just…far spacier than usual, yeah, but what she needs help with are some short-term memory issues, nothing long-term has been affected – more like, did she already eat this morning, or does she need to eat again? All things that can be taken care of with supervision. Medication – that’s the biggest one, I don’t care if she over-eats, I just don’t want her over-medicated.”

“I’ll be taking care of that,” Morticia insisted, speaking up.

Wednesday turned to shoot her a glare. “So you knew this was happening?”

“Don’t be difficult, please, darling,” She warned and Wednesday could feel a familiar sort of anger creeping up inside of her, latching onto her throat in a bubble of emotion that she had to repress.

“She’s asking you not to make this difficult. You can be angry,” Josie interpreted, apparently observing the tiny muscles in Wednesday’s face that betrayed her. “Or any sort of upset. But – don’t…run off and hold it against us. Emiliana was the one who didn’t want you to know until she was with you, so that you wouldn’t be worried on her behalf, or try to do something impulsive to find a solution when we have one, we just need to be patient. We were honoring her wishes by keeping this from you. When she comes to and is with us, you can ask her for more information on her decision. It’s her brain. She’s an adult – much as she doesn’t always act like one, she does get to decide who knows what’s going on with her, medically.”

Trying to cast blame elsewhere, Wednesday demanded to know, “Why isn’t papa here to help?”

“He’s coming with me to get the herpetology project done in half the time, so we can be back in time to be there with Em at the hospital.”

Not realizing that was all going to be happening so soon – as Wednesday had been trapped in her own head over the course of the early stages of summer – she felt a new sensation of her own worry inside of her. Doing the math, she hadn’t realized – her appointment with neurology would be while Enid was away. A swell filled her – and she had a feeling she was going to release it in a very hostile way. “Alright – this…has not gone as well as I’d hoped,” Morticia sighed. “Wednesday, do you want a moment to yourself?”

“No, I want a moment with Emi.”

“Well, you’re going to have two weeks’ worth of those – for now, let’s let her come out of this and recover,” Josie insisted. “Hey,” She sighed after a moment of quiet, looking up with a raised shoulder. “I really have missed you, sis.”

Feeling all the tension suddenly drain out of the room, Wednesday stuffed any animosity into a carefully labeled box in her heart to revisit later and crawled over to sit beside her. Josie opened one arm and Wednesday curled under it. They both gave gentle touches to Emiliana for another few minutes before she finally came out of her vision.

She moaned and turned fully into Josie’s lap, also managing not to be sick while sucking in a loud breath before asking, “Please, a cigarette?”

“After you drink some water and have a snack, sure -”

When Wednesday’s blood sugar monitor started screaming down the hall and her grandmama entered with a stern expression. “You skipped your two o’clock, now look what’s happened!”

Once again – her switch to anger nearly flipped and she wanted to yell at her grandmother the same way the machine did. Instead, Wednesday closed her eyes and took a deep breath, remembering all she’d worked so carefully to internalize in the last year.

“Something to eat for both of you then,” Morticia said, standing gracefully and tugging Wednesday to her feet while Josie very carefully wrestled her wife up as well, making sure she was steady before letting her walk a half pace in front of her down the hall. Wednesday was about to sit down begrudgingly at the breakfast nook when dry, slender hands reached for her arms, spun her around, and tugged her flush into a proper hug.

“This is all I wanted,” Emiliana mumbled into Wednesday’s hair. She hooked her arms around her middle, sighing as she tucked her head against her too-thin chest. “You were kept in the dark, little bird. Sorry, sorry. But you shoulder enough, and for my behalf, I did not want to add even a bit of suffering to your psyche. Nothing there was, for you to do about it.”

Feeling like she suddenly understood the words, even as they were jumbled, upon hearing them from the older Raven herself, Wednesday relaxed her pinched nerves against her. Emiliana kissed the top of her head. “I adored my time with my wife. But you, greatly – I missed. We should not spend more than four weeks apart in the future. I do believe, the flocking together has significantly helped these birds of a feather.”

They were pulled apart by grandmama, who insisted the two birds eat, feeding them more of a lunch than a snack, insisting neither were getting up until their plates were clean. Morticia and Josie had disappeared, making Wednesday roll her eyes – wondering what on earth they’d be discussing – if it was her behavior of concern or Emi’s…likely both.

“I now, a cigarette, can I have?” Emiliana tried to ask. Wednesday only stared, wondering if Josie had even become aware of her English slipping. It was possible that she’d experienced so much of that in their twenty-four years together that she might not consider it a symptom, but Wednesday surely noticed right away. When she didn’t answer as she was distracted in her own head, in trying to add it to the symptoms, Emiliana was practically in tears as tried to explain herself. “No smoking in the car -”

Thinking they needed a moment of privacy, Wednesday agreed, giving her a sharp-eyed stare of approval. “Let’s go up to the roof.”

Finding all of Emiliana’s luggage having been brought in by Lurch, Wednesday tilted her head in surprise to see she had a new crossbody bag. The black canvas pouch looked much thicker than her previous one, and the embroidery and beadwork reminded Wednesday of her tattoos – all divination and celestial-inspired, with a snake on the back. Speaking of…

Piper came slithering down the banister with Augustus, each twisting around their master’s necks when they met back up. They looked at one another with a half-smile before Wednesday gestured – knowing that she needed to walk behind Emiliana, particularly when she was even more fragile than usual.

The two ended up on the third-floor balcony. In typical fashion, Emiliana dumped the entire contents of her bag as she plopped to the ground in her awkward perch of a crouch. She picked up the box of cigarettes that had a stereotypical depiction of the American indigenous population on them and a lighter that she’d adhered a sticker of what Wednesday recognized to be the reptile from the Rapunzel movie Enid made her watch. As Emiliana took her first draw of smoke and exhaled with a notorious sigh, Wednesday stared at the mess she’d made.

Absent – were her medications that she usually carried around, which Wednesday figured Josie was having placed somewhere more secure than her chaotic mess so she wouldn’t overdose. Other than that, it was standard Emiliana trinkets: a handful of crystals, sea shells, dice with celestial symbols on them, charms and a few loose tarot cards for divination items, her classic – trash, discarded things she’d picked up likely during their pit stops on the drive, her worn little wallet, a roll-on sage oil, a bottle of classic Frump protection oil, the eye patch she was supposed to wear for several hours a day that had a dramatic skull and crossbones on it, and the dolphin Beanie Baby that Wednesday had seen in her vision.

“Flash – You know dolphins are a smart breed. Our friend Flash knows how to read! Splash the whale is the one who taught her, Although reading is difficult under the water!” Wednesday started as she spoke the poem on the plush’s heart-shaped tag, then stared a little. “Kind of rude that’s what Josie picked for you as a reward. I’m sure with everything going on, you reading, even in French…hey,” She furrowed her brow, thinking about the spring. “I think these symptoms have been going on longer than you realized. You were struggling to read in French before the end of the semester.”

“Oui,” Emiliana said in a lackluster response, still perched. She let out a dramatic sigh before giving her little bird a long, sad gaze. “Wednesday, forgive me, you must, for if I keep repeating myself. My short-term memory is ka-put. Josie did explain the nature of my ailment to you, completely?”

Wednesday gave a silent nod while Emiliana blew more smoke. “I’m sure that’s not helping.”

“It never does. But either this, or likely, something more reckless and drastic, I will do. The doctors say this is better than pills and…never mind.” Wednesday honestly didn’t want to know. “I am supposed to stay away from the green, though. Supposedly does not help when one is having the loss of memory.”

Giving her a little headbutt, Wednesday shrugged. “I don’t want to do that without Enid, anyway.”

“You are holding up, without her – how so?” Emiliana asked after another drag.

“I’m listless. Thankfully, my online class is grueling in terms of workload and I have been trapped in my own mind – endlessly spiraling, so I’ve been busy. I have developed more of an appreciation for my immediate family, trying to spend time with them. Between that and my mother bringing me into the ether in attempts to build me up for light seeking, I only have been very lonely at night. But, now you’re here,” Wednesday shrugged, optimistic that Emiliana would want to have a two-week sleepover with her. When there was no immediate reaction in her face – though it was hard to tell with her one eye so swollen, Wednesday wondered if she’d expected too much. “Unless, you’d prefer a guest room – we have plenty.”

“Oh, no, no. I should not be alone in slumber. You can help me load my carry,” She said fondly.

With a beat of relief, as she alone knew what a great weight that dark was to shoulder, Wednesday nodded. “Always.”

Emiliana tucked her cigarette butt into an old flowerpot with a crusty, dead Jade plant hanging off the edge before pulling Wednesday to her. “I might be up for slightly less mischief than usual. I do not have my usual energy. And, required – I am, to have pirate time from when I awaken for several hours. I did so on the ride here, already today. Miserable experience in the moving vehicle.”

The balcony door opened again, revealing Josie and Altair, who excitedly gave Wednesday a proper greeting. She let him cover her in kisses, then nudge Augustus, who licked his snout. “Em, the mess, already? I know you’ll be here for almost two weeks, and no doubt trash the place, but -”

She grumbled, pushing Wednesday off of her, stuffing everything back into her satchel before sitting on her knees, looking up at Josie curiously. “Anything else there is, you wish to correct for me?”

“Just your attitude,” Josie teased, coming down to kiss between her eyes. “But you’re always crabby after a vision – particularly when your brain injuries are flared up, so I’ll give you grace. Hey, I’ve got an hour before I have to head to the airport. Would you like me to help you get all set up before I go?”

“Oui,” She said, accepting her wife’s hand. Not wanting to feel put-out, Wednesday followed, even if they’d rather have their own time together. Lurch finished coming down from the tower as they were about to head up and Emiliana let out a squeak of a sound before giving him a hug, forcing him to go stiff and let out a grunt while she thanked him for carrying her things. Josie nudged her to let go and hold the railing as they went up the stairs, she behind her unbalanced witch.

Emiliana opened Wednesday’s door and stepped in with a little tilt of her head. “Little bird, for me – the lavender is going, already?”

Refusing to feel embarrassed by that, Wednesday was, then more so, when Emiliana pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek and nuzzled the top of her head. Josie pulled her off again with a giggle. “Yeah, I think four weeks is too long to keep you two apart. It’s good for you to be together.” When Emiliana made to attempt a beeline to Wednesday’s divination shelf, Josie tugged her arm and squeezed her. “Em, focus, babe. We don’t have much time, you can play witchcraft later.”

Wednesday started unzipping her bags, and Josie helped get things set up and orderly – her star projector, white noise machine, and a diffuser being the most important in hope that Emiliana would sleep. “She really needs eight hours, minimum right now. If that takes place in two separate four hour cycles, that’s fine – but…an up-all-night-in-the-ether adventure has to wait until after she’s well recovered from surgery.”

Emiliana sat herself in a chair in front of the fireplace, and Wednesday watched Josie observing her. The redhead was tense – her shoulders practically up to her earlobes. Her hands were twisted together, lips pressed in a straight line. “That’s – this is…this is what happens when she’s super out of it, Wednesday. I don’t want to leave her. Damn, I don’t want to leave her. But…” Josie closed her eyes, shaking her head. “She’s so, so upset with herself, at the thought of keeping me from work. We had a good knock-down-drag-out argument last week over it and I gave in, because your mother can handle her, but…f*ck, I don’t want to. I don’t even care about the turtles,” She whispered, looking at her feet.

Knowing that was just about an unimaginable statement coming from her mentor, Wednesday squeezed her hand. “You could argue with her that in forcing separation when she’s not well, Emiliana is violating her wedding vow – in sickness and health. You know, she didn’t want to marry you for so long because she was worried about breaking vows.”

“Great minds think alike, I tried that one,” Josie mumbled. “We both broke things that night – not vows, just – replaceable things. It wasn’t our worst – but it wasn’t great. I…She won’t forgive herself if I skip this trip. I cannot give her any reason to stew around the dark any further than she would slip on her own when her mind is such a fragile place to be.”

With a great sigh through her nose, Wednesday understood – even if she didn’t like it. “My mother will of course handle her medical care. But I’ll take good care of her, too, Josie. Even if that’s ‘not my responsibility as the child,’” she quoted dramatically. “Emi has helped me so much this year, taking care of my Raven side, including when I needed medical attention. I’ll return the favor, I promise.”

Josie held Wednesday tightly. “I know you will. I love you. I know I needed a break – we all needed some time apart, that’s good for us. But I missed you, tremendously.”

Smirking, Wednesday leaned into her, the feeling was incredibly mutual.

X

After a surprisingly teary goodbye from Emiliana (who was apparently the one who insisted on Josie leaving her in the first place), Wednesday suggested one of the woman’s favorite hobbies; a walk in the woods with a basket for foraging. She brushed Emiliana’s hair, which was such a mess as she’d attempted to cut it herself just below her nape and had apparently refused to accept help in fixing it until Wednesday offered. She trimmed it evenly with the haircutting scissors she used bi-weekly on her bangs, then pulled the top half into a ponytail that looked like a whale spout on top of her head, starting what Emiliana called her Princess Poppy era.

Wednesday convinced her to put on a sunscreen-like Frump potion if she wasn’t going to coverup her arms, then tugged on one of her white athletic-material tops to keep herself from the harsh summer rays.

“The trees might see you without conservative sleeves,” Emiliana teased her.

“I don’t desire skin cancer,” Wednesday argued. “I like sleeves. In August, I usually have to lose them, but…I like the way they feel,” Wednesday mumbled before taking her hand, and leading Emiliana out with snakes around their necks, her backpack packed with an emergency snack and both of their phones after turning Emiliana’s on for the first time in months.

“Where you seek additional cloth, I prefer none. Is the property nudist-friendly?”

Shrugging, Wednesday suggested, “We’re notoriously freaky, but I’m not so sure we’ve ever had a brash enough member of the family to be walking around in the buff full time. We appreciate a proper dress code, typically.”

Emiliana gave a tut as Wednesday unlocked her mother’s outdoor storage and retrieved a basket for the older witch. She surprised Wednesday with longer English sentences than she’d managed to speak since her arrival – though the look she had on her was very far away, almost like when she’d sat in front of the fireplace. “Such was my stuffy mansion in childhood. My mother would chase my naked behind around the house in attempt to wrestle me into a proper little dress that I would shake off in seconds. That was before they started locking me up. Perhaps more of that was self-induced than I consider.”

Pausing abruptly as she tried to round into the orchard proper, Wednesday tugged Emiliana a little too harsh, almost making her loose her footing. She steadied her and looked into her eyes seriously, even the rapidly twitching one – needing to correct her statement, not the language. “You did not deserve what they put you through, Emi.” Her poor left eye was wandering a little and she blinked it aggressively, likely trying to escape both Wednesday’s truth and the sensation. “Listen to me,” Wednesday spoke with a wisdom that was beyond her, but so needed. “Your parents were terrible people.”

“We are knowing this,” Emiliana said, deflecting, trying to continue to walk, but Wednesday kept her rooted to the spot.

“You should not have been subjected to horrors from them on top of the universe,” Wednesday said quietly.

As yet another attempt at stopping the conversation, Emiliana sat herself under the shade of a tree, closing her left eye and putting pressure on it with the heel of her hand. Piper pulled away to look at her face, then shook her head – clearly aware that was something she couldn’t much help with. Wednesday could still see it pulsing through her boney fingers. “The horrors did not warn me – of this summer hit to my personhood.”

Wednesday knelt beside her, taking her other hand as she frowned deeply, trying to force any of the physical symptoms to subside. “I sometimes wonder, what my end – it is to be,” She said softly. “I have not seen what exactly causes the death of me, only knowledge of it occurring, based on Josie’s grief.”

“Well this got real existential, real fast,” Wednesday sighed, not sure she wanted to talk about that. “I’ll stop bringing up your traumatic childhood, if we can focus on the present instead?”

“It is…all related,” Emiliana sat up and tugged her legs up to her chest – in what Wednesday knew deeply meant, she was trying not to feel something. Pushing them down, Wednesday guided her back to lean against the tree, then sat herself in her lap, looking up. Emiliana’s lip quivered. “I-I am...I am unwell. I…hide, I hide from Josie, the last – weeks. And I fear that if I disclose my struggles to you, perhaps you might take the struggle on as well, and they will be your shoulders to burden.”

Not commenting on her misuse of the metaphor, Wednesday wondered, “Do you…want me to call my mother? Perhaps, with her light nature, we can work through the dark?”

When Emiliana didn’t reply but got the same sort of far-away look about her, Wednesday let out a sigh, thinking she might’ve taken on more than she was capable when she promised, she could help her fellow Raven. It was possible that she truly couldn’t – at least, not without bringing herself down in the process. Augustus slithered over to Emiliana’s lap, trying to get her to snap out of it to no avail.

Swiping to ignore the Nightshades group chat and curious about a message from Enid, but unable to consider it, Wednesday called her mother, who thankfully, picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing overtly physical, but I’m not sure. Maybe…maybe Em needs more than one babysitter at the moment.”

“I suspected that she was going to be different once Josephine left. How far have you gotten?”

“Not even past the first row of the orchard,” Wednesday said quietly. As her mother promised to be with her as quickly as possible, Wednesday remained on Emiliana’s legs, wanting to be able to keep her grounded in at least some way – even if it was just vertically. The snakes continued to circle her anxiously – likely looking for metaphysical explanations that just weren’t there.

Morticia was quick to arrive, a little bag on her shoulder as she had on a practical day-dress that afternoon. She immediately joined them in the shade, sitting in a mermaid pose beside Emiliana. She locked eyes with Wednesday, who just gave a little shrug, explaining how she’d made a correction about Emiliana’s childhood abuse when she tried to downplay it, her comments on the future, and then how she’d mentioned feeling darker than usual. Morticia nodded and lifted one hand, closing her eyes. “Protection oil, darling, in my bag. Give her a daisy wheel.”

Nodding and following the orders, she drew the symbol and then watched how a near-glow came about her mother’s right palm as she placed it on the more impacted, left side of Emiliana’s face.

She sat up taller with a gasp, then a long cry into her palms as she suddenly shouted, “I am not sure that I am real!” Augustus was obviously scared, and crawled up Wednesday’s sleeve, hiding himself in her tank top while Piper tried to squeeze the top of Emiliana’ head, make her feel something to prove her wrong.

Wednesday and Morticia shared another look before turning their attention back to the more disastrous Raven. Morticia put a non-glowing hand on her back and asked, “Could you tell us what you mean by that?” Emiliana heaved, starting to blubber a series of seemingly, unrelated phrases in broken French and English, which Wednesday could tell by Morticia’s expression, she could only half interpret, but did her best to clarify, “You feel like – everything that has happened since your wedding has been a dream?”

“This is not my reality!” She practically shouted, anger replacing sadness as she tried to push Wednesday off of her to stand. She was entirely too weak, though, and though she was jostled, Wednesday secured her grip on her lap by moving a leg on either side of her hips. It was a little bit more intimate than she cared to be with Emiliana, but as she gripped her fretting, frantic hands in her own and brought them between their rapidly-beating hearts, she shook her head.

“This is your reality, Em. You are here, in New Jersey, with the Addams family. Your family. You wanted to be a part of this family. You pleaded for your wife to drop you off here. Sounds like – harshly, from what I understand, demanded to be when she tried to stay home with you in your usual reality.”

“It is not usual! It is not normal! None of this is real,” She screeched.

Nervous that she was going to throw herself back and hit her head on the tree or it’s protruding roots, Wednesday nodded when her mother made an overt gesture to get the hysterical form of Emiliana shifted to be safer.

“Larissa’s privy to this,” Morticia said with a mumble to Wednesday as they worked to get her in a better position. “She has spoken to me twice. Put her on the phone.”

With nearly trembling fingers, Wednesday dialed her surrogate aunt, having not spoken to her since earlier in the week her own struggles with accepting her perceived reality. “Is it Emiliana, already?” Larissa asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed with a thick swallow. “I…think she’s having a psychological break.”

“Not the first – she’s just finally out from Josephine’s gaze long enough to have another. I went through this with her last week for a few hours. She’s going on, about how she isn’t real?”

“Yes,” Wednesday stated again, trying not to let her own eyes well up in tears.

Larissa sighed through the receiver. “I believe she is holding it back from Josephine because she doesn’t want to scare her. But when I was ‘Miliana-sitting last week, this happened. She was hysterical and insistent that I not share her thoughts with her wife after she came out of the worst of it. Honestly, I’m not sure how to help. I just…held her, and promised she was with me, in the office, we were together – she was safe, and she was really in my arms. Holly tried a few ways to help as well, and I’m not sure if it was coincidence or real, but she finally brought her enough flowers to smell that after about ten minutes, she was a little bit more with us.”

“Flowers – perfect, we’re in the orchard right now. I’ll try that. My mother is…rocking and singing to her right now,” Wednesday said, taking in the moment, trying not to let a single trace of jealousy overtake even a fiber of her being at seeing her mother comforting someone else that way.

“Good. I think – stimulating her senses might help. Anything to get her to understand she’s on this plane. Maybe – mint, or something, shove it in her mouth, get her to taste, too. Put me on speaker, I’ll stay with your mother while you forage for something, alright?”

Following the directions without even considering arguing for once, Wednesday moved as fast as she could, collecting a host of flowers and herbs in the basket she’d hoped to find Emiliana doing the same with. She ignored the lump in her throat, trying to starve her own relation to what Emiliana was experiencing out of the picture.

Arriving back at the scene, hearing her mother sing an old Frank Sinatra song, Wednesday figured the moment hadn’t yet passed. She skidded to her knees beside them, green grass stains be damned, as her mother sang, “All summer long we sang a song and then we strolled that golden sand…two sweethearts and the summer wind…”

An appropriate breeze rustled Emiliana’s over-the-top ponytail and Wednesday hoped that her mother’s prayer through a song and light, along with the way that Wednesday stuffed a piece of basil into Emiliana’s mouth and forced a few wildflowers under her nose would be enough to –

She let out a long cry, spitting the leaf from her mouth. She shook her head and actually looked at Morticia, then Wednesday and asked, “Here I am? I am with you?”

Morticia nodded, pushing her lips to the top of her head in a kiss. “You’re here. You’re with me, you’re with Wednesday…and Larissa is on the phone, hm?”

“Emiliana, darling, recall – last week, we talked about this as well?”

She coughed almost like a baby, unaware, sitting up a little bit, pushing against her swollen eye and rubbing the other. “Everything feels like a dream, but it is real,” She said quietly. “Even if it does not seem real, it is real. Unless it is a vision – that may or may not have already been real or may someday be real. Or unless it is a dream because I have managed to sleep and it is just my subconscious, or a nightmare – which could never be true, but how do you know if it is really…”

Her rambling shifted over to French and Wednesday shifted from a desire to help to a desire to just let it end as she worried it was simply going to spiral into a cycle if she didn’t get her to do something more productive. “Emiliana, do you want to come peel willow bark with me?”

“Bark, bark, bark – Gigi! No, no – we should ask Mystic…” Her scripting switched languages, but at least Wednesday of the three trying to help, had a clue where the gibberish was coming from. Opening her backpack, she took out the emergency preparedness Beanie Baby she’d packed, placing her new dolphin in Emiliana’s hands. She tried to talk again, but no words came out. Wednesday took her pinky and guided it from the top of its plush, gray head, over the shiny plastic eyes, and down to the tail, running it over the silky sensation of the tag on the backside. She spoke the poem three times from the tag, having recalled it from earlier, and Emiliana closed her eyes, resting suddenly against Morticia’s sternum.

A snore left her and both she and her mother weren’t sure if they were supposed to, but they let out a twin sigh of relief that at least the moment was over – and hopefully, they could figure out more later.

Larissa said, “She’s asleep, now?”

“Yes,” They replied at the same time. Morticia carefully shifted, propping herself up against the tree and holding Emiliana to her like she’d done for Wednesday so many times.

Wednesday picked up her phone and pushed the FaceTime button. Larissa let out a surprised sound but gave into it. She looked most like herself, wearing some sort of summery, professional dress – no blazer or sweater on over the short, tan sleeves, her hair and makeup fashioned in her usual way. “Hello, darling.” She sighed and glanced at Morticia and Emiliana. “Such was how it ended once we snapped her out of it last week. I…perhaps foolishly, did honor her request not to cause Josephine alarm, but – did disclose to Dr. Rodman and he conferenced in the twins, Doctors Lochlan, for mental health advice. They think this could be caused by the fluid buildup in her brain and believe this is a phenomena called depersonalization-derealization, though obviously cannot confirm as Emiliana is not a patient of theirs, nor will she be seen by them willingly – though I did try. She’s experiencing an extreme disconnect from her body, essentially – almost like she’s hovering over it from the outside, which is the depersonalization. But for everything to seem like a dream, to not be able to make sense of reality around her – for it all to seem warped, that is derealization.”

Feeling heavy, and letting out a sudden sound of her own that was within the realm of a sob, Wednesday pulled her legs to her chest and started to tremble as she deftly forced herself not to cry. While it was rare for her to give into emotion so quickly like that, she knew it was safe to do so around Morticia, and particularly – Larissa, who had taken on quite the role as her wet blanket so often that spring. Her mother tried to navigate both the sleeping Emiliana and her troubled daughter, but thankfully – both Gomez and her granny were on the way to help. Unsure if they’d seen everything unfolding or if Hester Frump had sensed all the distress, Wednesday starved off their attempts as she processed what Larissa was saying about Emiliana’s emerging struggles and putting it into the context of her lifelong own.

It took her some time to breathe deeply enough to get words out and starve down her tears so that they wouldn’t release themselves; she couldn’t stand it. When she did, all Wednesday managed to command was, “Call Enid.”

Whether or not it was because it was Morticia’s phone who dialed out or if she would have picked up Wednesday’s call so quickly as well, Wednesday didn’t care and reached for the phone with desperate hands when Enid picked up on the second ring and said, “Hang on – I’m on my watch, I’m going for my phone right now – is Wednesday hurt?”

“No,” She blubbered unexpectedly – the cry finally leaving her when she heard the absolute safe and secure voice of her girlfriend.

Wednesday heard a distinct sound of panic and Enid’s voice came through with far less background noise as she pleaded to know, “What happened?”

Feeling ridiculously embarrassed more than panicked that she’d started to cry, Wednesday managed with a few deep breaths so that she didn’t sound entirely pitiful, “Tell…tell everyone - what you felt…our…first…p-partner work.”

At that, she shoved the phone into her grandmother’s hands, who barely grasped it, before finding the energy to charge forward, dashing a few rows over in the orchard until she found a relatively easy tree to climb and hoist herself up into, hiding from the world that she’d used to feel as disconnected from as Emiliana. Apparently – there was a name for it, and based on what she’d seen that afternoon, it was going to come back, and it wasn’t going to get any easier the older she grew, the better she was a divination, nor how much she loved and committed herself to her partner. In fact – that could very well make it all worse.

Her tears didn’t last long beyond that initial burst that fell when Enid’s voice forced her to feel more than she wanted to, but the despondency and disappointment that settled in would likely be long-lasting.

It was quite some time that she was given, before it was surprisingly, her father who came to fetch her. “My little leopard, won’t you come down from the tree for me?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Wednesday tried not to roll her eyes as she made sure to wipe her cheeks with her sleeve in case any of her tears hadn’t dried in the summer heat. She couldn’t imagine what brilliant words of wisdom Gomez had for her, and almost wanted to tell him to shove it – spare her the lecture, and let her wallow until her blood sugar alarm would go off and demand she eat. Instead, she gave a little roll against the trunk, dropped her weight, shifted so her knees hooked around the branch she was in, then dropped down in a mostly graceful flip, despite the lingering sadness in her. “Lovely dismount. Come, walk with me.”

Wishing that the long shorts she’d put on had pockets that were easier to reach to stuff her hands into, Wednesday crossed her arms and lagged a half-pace behind him as he meandered slowly through the orchard. He was quiet – and Wednesday realized he was doing with her what she’d partially hoped to do with Emiliana when first leaving the house that late afternoon. Simply walking among the summer sprawl of blossoms and the emergence of produce growing, Wednesday felt the hope of the cycle of life at least returning to her as she thought about how dead it had all been when she and Emiliana collected natural material in the winter. “I missed being home last fall to can with grandmama,” Wednesday said as she considered the apples that would be ready once she was already back at Nevermore.

“I missed you being here to do it because I’d forgotten how miserable of a job it is,” He chuckled. “She used to put Fester, Cosimo, Pancho and I each at a station. Worked us like dogs for days until every last fruit and vegetable was preserved to perfection. Worse – having to do it somehow with my own son – Pugsley doesn’t have a knack with a knife the way you do my deadly viper.”

“Triggering, father,” Wednesday grumbled and Gomez gave a breath and a flush. “Shocking, that Clump never joined you.”

“For the better, I promise. I’m not surprised it’s a task you miss, though. It was a tradition – one that kept you focused and busy, put your skills to use. And much as you pretend to hate sweets, I know you don’t mind that apple filling.”

“So long as it’s in an empanada,” She said with a ghost of a smile. “Is there any left from last season?”

“I’m sure – no one has been home to eat! We ought to have a baking day and take some goods up to the kitchen in town.”

Thinking that could be a good way to connect both herself and Emiliana to their respective humanity while helping others in their own, Wednesday reached for Gomez’s hand, stopping him and looking him in the eye. “Will you be father for both of us tonight? Read to us before bed?”

He lifted his hand near her cheek and she blinked her permission for him to touch her. He cupped her jaw and kissed the top of her head for a little longer than necessary. “Any day, any time. You will never be too old for me to read you to sleep. Come,” He stroked just a little under her orbital bone – in the way he often did with her mother. “Let’s walk the long way back to the group, then transfer our party inside. It’s nearly suppertime. We’ll see if we can get Emiliana to rise and eat, then we’ll talk about all this as a family unit. So long as you’re comfortable letting Pugsley in?”

“We can’t leave him out,” She confirmed.

Gomez tucked an arm over her shoulders and they trudged along, taking another nearly ten minutes before arriving back to where both phones had been hung up, and Hester and her daughter were talking in soft tones, while Emiliana slept on in Morticia’s hold.

“Darling girl,” Morticia crooned, looking ready to cry herself, opening one arm and Wednesday leaned into it for just a moment before pulling away. “Your father requested we make it through the supper hour and then we can have a conversation about all this, if you are in agreement?”

Nodding mutely, she turned to Hester and looked in her dark brown eyes for a moment. Her grandmother had a comment there, she could see it, but didn’t speak it. Wednesday didn’t fully know what to make of that. “How are we getting Em back to the house?”

A grunt met her ears and Wednesday held back a smile at Lurch, who simply scooped Emiliana’s body up in a cradle hold with another disinterested sound, shuffling up to the manor and inviting the assembly to follow.

Wednesday took a long breath as she picked up her backpack and accepted her phone from Hester who said, “Enid expects a call before bed.”

Once they were back inside – Wednesday forever grateful that of all the modern conveniences her parents had been reluctant to indulge in, air conditioning had never been one of them, she felt herself cooling immediately. She had a feeling the heat had been a contributing factor to her own meltdown, but not the actual reason she’d given into it. Watching as Lurch tucked Emiliana on the family room sofa, she quietly explained, “I am going to finish my university lecture before we eat.” Needing an academic sort of distraction, she took herself upstairs, tucked her snake into his enclosure, and brought her laptop into the bathroom, setting it up on the counter. Wednesday spent twenty minutes listening to the rest of her online lecture in the bath so she wouldn’t drown in her thoughts.

Clean, hair fresh, though damp, in her classic braids and wearing a black ‘skater-style’ dress, Enid had called the number with twin snakes embroidered on the shoulders and feeling just a little bit better in more of a Wednesday attire, she found Emiliana waking up after her nap that had stretched on for about an hour and a half total. Hester was assisting her in making sure she knew where she was, and why she was there. “…Josephine should be landing in the next hour, I’m sure she’ll let us know when she arrives…”

Emiliana was blinking, her eye even puffier than Wednesday recalled from earlier. Her grandmama came in to try and assist, suggesting the patch for the other one to help her focus when she caught it wandering.

Her fellow witch looked like she might fall out if given one more piece of information and Wednesday swooped in to prevent another episode. “Maybe after dinner, grandmama. For now – one productive step at a time. Em, will you come wash up for dinner with me?”

She let herself be led down the hall to the powder room, where Wednesday stuck her hands under water cranked all the way to cold, making Emiliana let out a gasp and meet Wednesday’s eyes in the mirror. Smirking, just a little, Wednesday headbutted her shoulder. “You scared the sh*t out of me. Wash your hands and come sit by me so we can kick Pugsley under the table during dinner. I’m sure you haven’t cut your toenails in a long time – really dig in.”

Emiliana bit her lip and stared at her, finishing the task before turning around and asking, “Where is Josie?”

Feeling herself needing to use extreme patience that she hadn’t ever tapped into before…maybe her first few days living with Enid in the before times – but even then… “Josie dropped you off here a little after two, then had to head to the airport where she should be landing within the hour for her turtle trip.”

Emiliana blinked twice and her lips tugged down into a frown. “Hi, my name is Dory.”

Wednesday would have been concerned if she hadn’t heard her say that in the vision she’d had earlier, and it had obviously meant something to her wife. “Is that what you say when you realize you have forgotten something?”

“You are knowing of Dory?” Emiliana asked in a weak, sad little voice. When Wednesday didn’t react, she sang, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.”

“I’m taking it that it is a piece of children’s media that I’m most unfamiliar with and would be particularly irritated by.”

“Oh,” Emiliana looked sad. “I like the sequel better, actually – for once. But watch them – we could, very funny, films. They are talking fish, but I promise it is better than I am telling about it.”

“Maybe. We’ve got a few priorities to meet first though. Come on, dinner time.”

Sure she wasn’t emotionally up for a cartoon that night (and she’d already made plans for her father to read them to sleep anyway), Wednesday took her hand and led her to the dining room, where Emiliana was taking Enid’s seat for the time being. Feeling just a little bit like she was betraying her – Wednesday had a feeling that call with her girlfriend was going to be the glue keeping her together before bed.

“Emi!” Pugsley greeted her cheerily, coming over and winding himself around her shoulders. She smirked, pinching his arm playfully in return. He cheered, “I’m so happy you’re here! Do you want to play fire potato with me?”

“Pugsley, I shall like to get into all matter of games involving poor judgement with you this extended stay,” She winked her good eye and thanked Gomez as he invited them to sit with a sweep of his hands.

Morticia settled herself down beside Emiliana (rare to be so far away from her husband) on her other side, whispering something in her ear that made her smile. Emiliana said the blessing for the meal in French, then thanked Lurch, who’d elected to join them that night with a grunt.

Wednesday only managed to eat as much as she needed to in order for her machine not to beep before she hurried to start on the dishes, wanting there to be no excuses for anyone to miss the important follow-up that the evening had required. As much as she’d like to have escaped it – particularly, having to open up about herself, she accepted the fate and merely wanted it over with. The sooner that happened, the faster she’d be able to call Enid.

Wishing deeply that the blonde was with them – as she was just generally so much more optimistic in nature and would surely see a sunny side of the situation, Wednesday settled in the formal living room with a host of things that Emiliana might need, most of which she brought down from her own little bin of newly established comfort items upstairs.

Emiliana stepped out with her father to smoke, while Morticia directed Pugsley to push one of the couches in the formal living room a little closer to the other so they could all be facing one another during the upcoming, heavy conversation.

Piper slipped into the room and Wednesday gave a glare, snatching the snake up and demanding to know, “How many more episodes like the one she had today has Emiliana experienced?”

There was a hiss and Piper looked like, for a second, she was about to bite. “I don’t f*cking think so,” Wednesday corrected and her mother looked at her in surprise, but Wednesday knew how to talk to the little brats, if they’d been raised by Emi and Josie especially. “Don’t even think about biting me. Tell me the truth.”

Hard to say. She has been hiding them from Wife-Master. Slips into a state of silence – cationic, nearly. Master had one last week, one with Larissa Weems. Now, you. The rest – silent.

Wednesday nodded, passing the information along before giving an affectionate pat between Piper’s eyes. Morticia rubbed her own and wondered, “My sweet, I know – we will talk about this more when she’s back, but…have your moments of that…slipping away from your human side – have they ever felt so extreme?”

“It was different for me,” Wednesday said, then shook her head. “It was more of a general feeling – not specific like this, but I fear that could come in the future if I don’t address it, now that I know it’s an actual thing. But - I don’t want to have to explain it more than once.”

“I understand,” Morticia sighed and kissed her near her eye, in the small spot that used to be all of Emiliana’s twitch. “You can understand, I’m upset for Emi – but also, rattled about what this might mean. I’m trying not to read it as an oracle.”

“I feel the very same,” Wednesday said, pulling her legs to her chest before anyone could stop her.

When Emiliana came back in with the rest of the family gathered, she sat beside Wednesday, likely with no memory of what she’d put them through earlier in the day. Morticia pulled Larissa back up on FaceTime. The woman probably rather would have been doing anything else, Wednesday guessed, but she’d be forever grateful for her willingness to see through just about anything for one of her old mentees.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” Emiliana smiled. “Something tells me this is not our first time speaking today, though I cannot recall if we did already.”

“Not quite directly. You had another one of your extreme meltdowns, like you did with me last week, that I believe you’ve had more of and have simply been cleverly hiding them from your wife, somehow.”

Emiliana’s face flushed and she looked like she was ready to argue but Wednesday shook her head, getting right to the point. “You said – you felt like nothing was real. Like this was all a dream.”

Her lower lip started to curl and Wednesday knew she was probably going to be on the floor in a way that was very becoming of herself. She’d heard about Emiliana’s poor behavior plenty, though hadn’t seen much of it herself as she was the one in constant need of babysitting that winter and spring, not the other way around. Piper draped her body over her lap like a seatbelt to keep her in place and Emiliana pushed her hand to her swollen eye. “What you’ve mentioned, about not trusting your body is experiencing reality - that’s similar to how I was – when Josie first met me,” Wednesday said softly, trying to relate to her to help her open up more, if she could. “It manifested in more of a detached manner, less than a disbelieving way. I was so disconnected – my body and my spirit or my mind – it’s hard to say what now, at this point…it felt like I was always just sort of hovering over my human form, like it was just a shell that I had to feed and bathe and change, and that – I could hardly connect to it. Everything felt like an inconvenience. The thralls of the mortal shell felt burdensome.”

“Disconnected,” Emiliana repeated. “Like when Josie keeps me in the car and her pocket has her phone – the robot voice, it says disconnected.”

“Do you…feel like you’ve been left in the car? Like life is the car?” Pugsley wondered, trying to chime in and be useful.

Emiliana leaned back a little bit. “More like I was run over with the car, killed by it – and everyone is inspecting my corpse on the pavement, but my spirit is watching and has not moved on to heaven or hell.”

At the dark metaphor the room went quiet. “You know you are still alive, Emiliana?” Wednesday asked in a nearly harsh whisper.

“How am I knowing that, for certain?” She wondered.

Feeling dramatic, Wednesday went to the family library down the hall, taking an old piece of medical equipment from a collection of curios in a glass cabinet, returning and sitting her weight on Emiliana’s lap again to give her some sensation that something was real. She warmed the metal diaphragm of a stethoscope up on her palm before pulling the ear tubes in, finding a very soft smile as she listened to Emiliana’s heartbeat. The sound of Enid’s beating heart had kept her tethered to the ground back in the spring, and she wondered if hearing her own could do the same for Emiliana. She took the tubes out, then placed them in Emiliana’s ears, despite how she initially flinched at the sensation. It was a few seconds later, that she must have recognized the steady beat, and tears slipped between her lashes and down her cheeks again. In a whisper of a confession, she let the Addams family in on a memory, speaking slowly, trying to keep the phrases sensical. “I recall – waking up, the first morning of our honeymoon. And it did not seem possible, that I was holding my wife. I was sure – it was just a dream.”

Morticia frowned and carefully put the stethoscope around her neck, looking at her sadly while Wednesday stayed on her knees. Hester stood up, bringing her a cold sip of water to drink in a pink cup that had a myriad of the princess characters on it (it looked so foreign in their home). Emiliana accepted it with a nod of thanks. Finally, it was Gomez who stood, pacing a little bit. “You were the one who proposed. Finally taking your relationship to the step of marriage - that was your doing. Why would you not believe that it came true?”

Emiliana’s eyes were so cloudy with additional unshed tears, Wednesday wondered if she was going to find herself splashed when she finally released the heavy burden on her heart and the floodgates opened.

She heaved in and breathed out a few times slowly, ending up coughing in Wednesday’s face and shaking her head. “I was not meant to have a happy ending! I am not a princess, I am not a Dove, I am not light – I am a mess! I was abused in childhood, left largely illiterate to play in filth, turned into a hopeless cause lost, who became an addict and pushed away the only person who loved her until she left! And when she came back, I became even more of a burden than I ever was when we fought and I fell so hard that I spent the next year of my life learning how to piss and walk again!” Emiliana scream-sobbed into her hands, her rant switching from English to French every few words, though Wednesday understood it all. “And she married me? I woke up and realized – none of it could possibly be real! So that is now I know…” She sniffed, wiping her cheeks. “This is all a lie,” She lifted her hands. “If I am here, if I am not. If I am alive, if I am dead? It does not matter – because none of this is real. Excuse me, little bird,” Emiliana hoisted her off with unbelievable strength, then tried to stand, but ended up tripping – falling into Gomez’s hold.

Somehow – even Gomez Addams was lost for words as he held her while she let out a roar and a cry, hitting his shoulder and trying to push away, but ultimately collapsing as she didn’t have the coordination to fight him off.

Gomez held her taller, but far weaker, form for a long time, at least until she stopped hollering and shaking so much. Larissa’s voice was the next one to break though, offering, “I think we might need to ask Dr. Rodman to up your medication, Emiliana.”

At that, she let out a little laugh. “If I need any more medication – it will only be proof that this is all just a fantasy. Who is living a real life when half their brain is held together with pharmaceuticals?”

“Well, you insult Wednesday and I both, then, if that is how you feel – that we aren’t really experiencing life because we require medication to make it through the day,” Larissa was never afraid to put a student, former or otherwise, in their place.

“I think we should tell Josie what is really going on,” Wednesday said with confidence, sure that would solve at least half the problem.

“No!” Emiliana turned around and shouted, her eye left practically spinning as she raged, “Do not!”

“Well, if none of this is real, what difference does it make?” Wednesday sassed, trying to get her to settle again, though she wasn’t sure there was any sort of productive conversation to be had when Emiliana was clearly going through something that was so much worse than what she’d ever experienced in her own form of depersonalization.

Emiliana’s shoulders were rising and falling in pants and Morticia recognized that she was probably going to have a panic attack. “Do not tell her, please. Please! Just let her have her normal life!” Emiliana fell, guided to stay vertical in a sit by both Gomez and his wife, who made sure she stayed upright, not smacking her sensitive head on anything else. “She has to do this trip. She needs herself back, who she was!”

Wednesday pushed between her parents to kneel in front of her. “But Josie is also not who she was, not anymore,” She expressed, practically praying to any ancestor that might’ve been in her house that the message might sink in with any bit of sense. “Josie experienced so much since she last took a herpetology trip. She’s not just a reptile researcher anymore! She’s a leader, now – not in the field of science for snakes and their climates, well – she still is, but it’s so much more than that,” Wednesday expressed. “After learning her origins, having that dark, seeded anger removed from her, taking on the role at Nevermore, at the Network…and becoming a wife,” Wednesday sighed, feeling like she was giving herself a lecture in the process of explaining Emiliana’s twist in fate, “Josie is not the same person she used to be. None of us are. We are all marked and changed by what happened. Some of us even have the scars to prove it,” She sighed, glancing at Larissa on the screen, who was looking on with hope. “We are all different, and we are all better for that difference. Unfortunately, something happened – and your brain is completely inflamed right now, and it’s fighting with you for reality.”

There was a long pause. Larissa and Morticia sighed at the same time and Morticia crouched down beside the two Ravens while Gomez continued to linger close. “What should we do, hm? You cannot possibly think you are going to make it through the next two weeks until surgery in this state, Emiliana,” She said seriously. “I won’t allow it. So – what do we do?”

Wednesday sighed. She didn’t have a long-term solution. But, she knew what would help that night. “Father, let’s reschedule that literary event. Emi…needs to take a bath and watch that cartoon before bed. One of you call Dr. Rodman – see if he’ll up her medication.”

At that, Emiliana found a sudden smile. “You will watch with me – the movie, Wednesday?”

“Under a weighted blanket, surrounded by Beanie Babies, probably half-naked,” Wednesday clarified, taking her hand, pulling the other witch to her feet. Emiliana immediately started nuzzling into Wednesday’s neck. She ignored it, looking at the rest of the assembly. “We’re not going to get any further tonight. Somehow, watching a…talking fish movie is going to be the best way to stay in reality tonight.” She looked up at the sky, wondering how on earth that was possible.

Morticia looked unsure, but Larissa understood. “I believe – coping, tonight, on this plane, is the best we can hope for before, if the universe is willing, she finds eight solid hours of sleep tonight. I imagine this is likely how Josie would set her up to recover after such a day. I will call the good doctor. There’s not much to be done until she sees him, I’m afraid. Just – coping. Getting through, day by day. I did warn you, Morticia, this was going to entail -”

“I’m fully prepared to handle it,” She said a little stiffly, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I am simply – sad, I suppose.”

“Querida,” Gomez cooed, coming close as Piper wound over Emiliana’s shoulders again.

Morticia gently dismissed her husband, looking at Emiliana seriously. “Let me help you in the bath, then – I’ll leave Wednesday to set you up with the technology, and bring you both a snack at some point to make sure you can take your medications, alright? Larissa – I’ll speak with you later. Thank you, for everything. As always.”

“I’d say it’s my pleasure, but I really wish it weren’t. Emiliana?” She warned and the Raven managed to look up at the screen with both eyes. “Please, do your best tonight. I know…I know this is very challenging, but Wednesday is seventeen. She shouldn’t be the one in charge. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“But she knows me,” Emiliana said quietly, latching onto Wednesday’s arm with both of her hands and frowning. “Wednesday understands.”

“Yes, but again – I stress, you are the adult, and she is a teenager. Do not expect more of her than she should have to give. Please?”

“I…will honor your first request,” Emiliana muttered. “I shall merely, do my best.”

Wednesday let her mother take Emiliana to a bathtub as the group dispersed, giving her a moment to escape up to her library tower and call her girlfriend.

Enid answered on the first ring again, though it sounded like she was on her phone properly that time or had her headphones in. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Wednesday said quietly. “Can I FaceTime you?”

Enid responded by pulling up the video call first, which Wednesday accepted, finding her looking impossibly cute with as much of her short locks pulled back in a claw clip as possible, wearing just a baby blue bralette and a pair of spandex shorts in the dormitory she resided in. Since the building lacked air conditioning and the window fan just wasn’t enough to keep her comfortable – given how she ran a little warmer with her wolf inside… the view was nice, for Wednesday – but she hoped that Enid wasn’t letting her new friends in without pulling on a top first.

“I almost took off for the train station after this afternoon’s call,” Enid admitted, blinking a few times and Wednesday felt deflated at the confession. “I knew that would upset you even more, so I didn’t. But that also sounds like – basically the same line of thinking that has Emi there, instead of being cared for by Josie.”

Realizing just how true that was, Wednesday reminded Enid, “I do not want my dysregulation to come at the expense of your talents and interests. And Emiliana feels the same way with her wife.”

“Right, right,” Enid sighed, rubbing her cheek, looking at Wednesday. “And I know it’s not just me, who loves you – who can help you, when things are hard. It’s just…” She twisted her fingers up, sighing. “I love you more than I love this. You are so much more important to me than stage blocking and ballet class and dialogue analysis.” Enid was trying so hard not to lose it, not to cry; Wednesday just wanted to reach through the screen. She almost wished she hadn’t asked for FaceTime. It was hard to look at Enid when she was upset and there was nothing Wednesday could do about it.

“I managed to let it slip my mind, my upcoming summer appointment with Dr. Rodman. I’ve been so stable. Emiliana is going to need brain surgery at that time…so – I think mine will be pushed back, even more – but…that, I might need you for, Enid. This – I can make it through.”

“Brain surgery?” Enid let out a little gasp. “Wednesday, what’s going on? I mean – they kind of explained it to me – Emi is having like, a little breakdown about feeling not like herself -”

“It’s worse than that,” Wednesday sighed, regaling the evening’s revelations.

Enid was finally choked to tears after she released the last of the details. “Wednesday, that’s so scary! You’ve never felt that way, have you?”

“Not in the sense that Emi presently is,” She promised. “But – depersonalization, for sure I have experienced. And I think I’ve had derealization, when I’ve lost time…the worst of it…that night,” She whispered – thinking about the missing hours in her timeline when she’d collapsed in on the red trail at Nevermore when Enid was first declared missing and coming-to with Larissa Weems at the police station. “I wonder if my absence seizures lead to that. Either way, I think I’m in my head differently than she is, but…I didn’t know there was a clinical term for feeling that sense of hovering over your body. And I fear it getting worse with time.”

“Oh…” Enid sighed, looking up, letting out a long breath. “Between Saturday at noon, and Sunday at six, I have a long rest – there’s nothing scheduled that’s required – it’s all optional. I’d like to come, for the night. Or – you can come here.”

“Let’s talk to my mother, okay?” Wednesday whispered, not wanting to be the full reason that Enid decided not to engage in some sort of theatrical training, even if it was optional – it was possible that Morticia could talk her out of it.

“No! Wednesday, stop it,” Enid said seriously. “You’re going to talk to her first and tell her to tell me no. But – I’m telling you no! It will have been a week by then, and I think that’s pretty good for our first time apart outside of traumatic events in months. I’m coming home to see you. Don’t you dare do anything to change my mind, got it?” She huffed and took a moment to unfurl herself before deep breathing and wondering, with a shift in tone, “What are you going to do with Emi tonight?”

“Watching some fish movie – I think the fish has memory loss and she relates to it. That’s what she was saying to Josie in her memory, and something she said to me – it’s like a cue that she’s got gaps.”

“Are you watching Finding Nemo, or Finding Dory?” Enid wondered with a little smile.

“I am not sure if it’s the original or the sequel she is inclined to,” Wednesday grumbled.

“Either way – they’re a little on the silly side, but there’s a lot of heart there. I think you’ll like them both. You tend to enjoy the movies from the other studio more, anyway.”

“The jumping desk lamp movies?”

“Yeah,” Enid was fully beaming at her in a giggle, how quickly – she’d recovered.

Wednesday relaxed into her chair a little bit, trying to make the conversation less about her. “Tell me about your day today?”

“Oh! Well, it started with our usual musical singalong, which – I gotta say, it’s a really good thing Josie has been teaching me to read music. Apparently these are all ‘classics’ and I’ve never even heard about them, but I can carry the tune thanks to her help…”

Wednesday was pleased to sit back and let Enid ramble on for about twenty minutes, asking thoughtful questions, actually interested in what she was working on. Enid was already rising to the top of the crop, it sounded like, as a shoo-in favorite, and Wednesday hoped that meant good things for her as the summer intensive continued. Forcing her jealous thoughts that she’d tried to talk about with Larissa earlier in her stay down, as there were so many more tangible problems to work through since then, she listened inquisitively.

A bell went off in the background and Enid shot up, beaming as she reached for a shirt. “That’s evening choral practice. Hey – Wednesday? I love you, so, so much. And I’m going to see you on Saturday afternoon. I’ll let you know when I’ve got my train ticket – hopefully, Lurch or dAddams can pick me up.”

“I’m confident we can arrange for transportation for you. I love you, Enid. Have a great night. Don’t forget – you can call me, even at three in the morning - if things get too tough to shoulder alone, okay?”

“Your potion has been holding up beautifully,” She promised. “And on top of it, they’ve got me so exhausted that I’m sleeping through the night, but - same, Wednesday. You can call me, any time of day or night. I will always pick up for you, so long as I hear the call,” She giggled. “I love you.” Enid winked, blowing her a kiss.

As she was about to leave the library, Wednesday felt her heart sink halfway to her gut as the phone lit up with someone else who was going to want more severe honesty from her. Josie appeared on FaceTime, looking tired. “Hey, you. I gave it as long as I could before starting the inquisition. What’s really going on with Em?”

Feeling like her balloon hadn’t just deflated, but been popped, Wednesday frowned. “She’s unwell.”

“I know that. How so? What isn’t she telling me?”

Josie was moving throughout a kitchen in the rental that she (and Wednesday assumed, Hugh) were staying in, Altair lifting his head up on her shoulder to stare at Wednesday, his mouth open delightedly to see her again that day. “She’s…basically slipping in and out of reality?”

At that, Josie stopped moving and froze in place for a moment, before pulling out a stool and sitting at the countertop, adjusting the phone on something. “Tell me everything,” She said seriously.

Regaling the story for the second time, Wednesday didn’t miss a single detail.

Josie was silent, taking it all in, her hands folded under her chin. Stray hair was falling out of the clip she’d brought all the voluminous red into. Her eyelids were puffy – exhaustion had obviously been something she was dealing with for weeks. “I hope that someday, you remember this,” She started quietly, honestly. “When Enid has to come to me, with concerns about you. How you were so willing to tell me the truth about my wife, because you know it’s for her own good. Because you know I care, more than anything, about what happens to her. That this isn’t about trust, it’s about love. Nothing more.”

Giving a nod – sure she’d forget when it came to moments of hysteria and lapses in mental judgement; Wednesday waited for direction. Josie lifted one of her hands up, eyes wandering to something off-screen. She let out a single tear and shrugged. “Your mother decided to sign up for this,” Josie sniffed. She blinked rapidly, looking down at the counter. “And if Larissa told her the full scope of what was going on, and Morticia decided to take her anyway…then I guess – I don’t need to rush back to take care of her. She obviously doesn’t want me to. But I don’t want you to do that, either. You are not responsible for Emiliana. Do you understand me? She made the choice to do this, and your mother signed up to take it on. Do not for one damn second think this is what you have to do, Wednesday.”

“I was just going to watch a Pixar movie with her under a weighted blanket.”

Josie let out a breath that included half a chuckle. “Sounds like all I would have figured out to do on a night like this, anyway.”

“I know, I learned from the best,” Wednesday replied quietly. “Josie, I’m sorry you were kept in the dark. I’m not going to make excuses for Emiliana. I’m not going to offer an apology on behalf of my mother or Larissa for not telling you, either. I wish everyone had been more honest with you.”

“I’m thankful that at least you are.” She held up her pinky. “Sisters have each other’s backs.”

“Always,” Wednesday promised with a nod. “Where’s papa?”

“Already with the Turtle Squad,” She sighed. “I’ve got to go. They’ll be doing the night crawl, soon. Shame Emi’s not here – she loves to watch the turtles and this beach is loaded with shells. She could set up her own little trail to find her way back home,” Josie said a little wistfully.

“You’ll still bring her back some, even if you’re mad at her, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Josie whispered, her smile returning. “And a whole jar full of sand and beach trash.”

“She’ll love it,” Wednesday blew a kiss the way Enid had, cringing after. “Was that weird?”

Josie winked, pretending to catch it. “Not at all. Love you, sis.”

Wednesday had about another thirty minutes to herself before her mother and granny appeared with a visibly unbalanced Emiliana. The youngest of them looked more pale than usual, and it was with shaking legs that she was guided to Wednesday’s bed, on the side that was generally Enid’s spot. Morticia locked eyes with her daughter, inviting her, wordlessly – to reject the intrusion if it was unwelcome. Wednesday didn’t let it bother her in the slightest – all the secret-keeping and dramatics the event had unfolded. She wanted to be a little bit annoyed, but couldn’t find it in her as she looked at her fellow Raven.

Her hair was down – washed, dried, and brushed through. She had on a pair of black sleep shorts that came just to her thigh, and Wednesday was pretty sure they were hers – but didn’t say anything about it. Her tank-top actually covered her bony sternum and came to the waistband, wearing an outfit a little more appropriate than usual to curl up with Wednesday. Morticia winked at her daughter. “We’ll be up with a snack when your film is through – for both of you – before medication. Is there anything else you need?”

Shaking her head, ignoring that she didn’t really have time to finish the homework assignment she’d wanted to do or meditate with her mother that night, as she watched Emiliana still shaking – it scared her into adjusting her priorities.

“I’ll call down if there is. Thank you, mother, granny.”

Morticia leaned over Emiliana to kiss the top of her daughter’s head – unspoken words practically shouting between them. She tucked a hand on Emiliana’s cheek as she was nesting in the blankets, putting everything all around her just so. “Be nice to Wednesday, or we’re banishing you to the caverns.”

“I shall. Thank you, Morticia. You are a very good big sister. And granny. Thank you.”

Hester rolled her eyes and steered her own daughter out of the room, the two Doves leaving the Ravens to themselves. Wednesday popped up, gathering the weighted lap pad she had, the Beanie Babies in her divination drawer that used to hold bones, and adjusted all the pillows around her big bird. Plugging in her laptop and dragging the cord across her bed, Wednesday set up the right application and brought up the fish movie, picking one at random. As it started, Emiliana reached her shaking hand for Wednesday and folded her to her chest. She kissed the top of her head and unable to help how she needed the connectedness of the dark they shared, Wednesday didn’t fight snuggling in.

The movie wasn’t awful. She even cracked a few near smiles, starting to understand Emiliana’s emotional connection to seashells, and what Josie had meant by leaving her a trail of them to find her. As it wrapped, her mother and granny hadn’t forgotten their closing duties with the blackbirds for the night, bringing them each a bowl of oatmeal with berries, and ensuring Wednesday and Emiliana took their required pills. Wednesday made sure Emiliana stayed upright as they brushed their teeth, even though she was obviously struggling with her motor function even more as she grew tired. Turning on all the required devices to hopefully get her to sleep, she plugged in her phone, wondering if it would be a restful night of sleep, or if it would be fitful for both of them. It was considerably early – just after ten, for her summer routine, but truthfully, the day wore her out.

Emiliana rolled onto her side, looking at her with one eye, the puffy one practically swollen shut after the day it had been. “Did you tell Josie?”

Wednesday nodded. Emiliana put a hand on her shoulder and sighed, closing her other eye. “Thank you.”

Narrowing hers, Wednesday wondered sharply, “You wanted me to?”

“I surely could not tell her the honest truth,” Emiliana explained. “Without it dissolving into something it was not meant to be. I imagine she was calm, and able to receive the news from you?”

“Yeah,” Wednesday was suspicious. “What…what’s going on? Has this – has this all been a show? Because I’ll be -”

“Only in that…” She took a deep breath, rolling onto her back, putting a hand over her chest. She spoke in half French and half English, the syntax somehow easier to understand that way as her mind simply couldn’t connect with her non-native tongue well enough in her state. “It is worse than I can display through actions or express in words. Josie sees through me. I had to appear to be seeing through walls to prevent her from full panic. I should probably be in an institution until my surgery. I should be with your friend, the monster-boy. But – while that would be better for me, it…would not help Josie. She could not handle me being inpatient like that again, for something like this. I…thought…your family might be able to help.”

“Our family, Em,” Wednesday said sternly. “And of course we will! We love you! I need you,” Wednesday sighed. “But…the fact that you wouldn’t tell Josie the truth…it’s upsetting me.”

“And if you began to fall into a fit of your own, a state like mine – would you wish for Enid to know? Have her leave her prestigious program to come home to you?”

“She’s coming home on Saturday afternoon to be with me!” Wednesday spat out, crossing her arms, seeing Enid’s point deftly before her eyes as Emiliana reminded her of all the things she didn’t want to be. “How are we, at seventeen and less than a year into dating, more emotionally mature and reliable for one another than you and your wife – whom you’ve been with for twenty-four years, except for the time that you told her to cheat on you?”

“Oh, the circles you take me around, little bird. I thought we were going to have a nice, drift to sleep.” She sighed, lifting herself just slightly. Emiliana rolled onto her stomach a little, the muscles in her shoulder blades visibly tensing and relaxing repeatedly. Something was really, neurologically wrong, Wednesday feared. “Would you just like to see that memory, of mine? It is one that no matter how much damage I cause myself, I cannot seem to shake. You love to bring it up, you might as well just live it as if you were there…what – when you were maybe, six years old? You knew nothing of love then. And despite what you say to me about your relationship, I promise - you still have plenty to learn now!”

Wednesday was sure she didn’t want to see that and was desperate to argue, but found herself yanked down. Emiliana’s eyes opened for a second, both of them in focus as she kept up her mixed languages. “Let me show you just what the past is, that you love torture me with.”

She pushed a kiss to Wednesday’s forehead, sending her spiraling into Emiliana’s memory.

It was harder to make out than ever. The crack that was usually present when she saw things through Emiliana’s view was deeper, longer – splintering like an unattended break of a windshield in the winter. It almost felt like watching something through a porthole, a third of the way submerged underwater, but once Wednesday adjusted to the filter of Emiliana’s memory, she took it in, the sharpness present between herself and a thirty-year-old Josie.

Emiliana was nearly indistinguishable at any age. Her hair was always unbrushed, makeup smudged, necklaces tangled – clothes unkept or off. Coming home from a long stint in rehab was no different, apparently. Josie was buttoning a professional, silky red top at the collar, glancing at her with her hair styled pin-straight, her part off to the side, a trend of the time. She slipped into a pair of black, ballet flats as Emiliana ran her hand up and down her own scrawny arm, looking like she might’ve just woken up. “You are – leaving? It is half four?”

“Yeah, I teach at five on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Josie rolled her eyes, clipping an analog watch onto her wrist before pulling on a blazer.

Emiliana rubbed the fabric of her skirt then between her thumb and forefinger, looking groggy. “It is August,” She stated.

“Oh good – you can still read a calendar. I’ve been doing this, twice a week, all summer long – it’s a summer course. I’m sorry that you were too high to notice my comings and goings before you were gone for a month.”

Her lower lip quivered. “I…wanted to talk with you…about that,” Emiliana said quietly.

“I have to go, some of us keep the commitments that we make. I already had to contract out two classes to attend the family events that you barely wanted me at over the last few weeks. And I tried to wake you up at noon, then at two, and at four. You were unresponsive. Honestly – I thought maybe you’d just given up on recovery already.”

“It is…the side effect – of…the new medication, I believe.”

“Great – so glad you have learned all about the impact drugs can have,” Josie said hotly, marching out the bedroom door, fuming and yet – also running on them.

“Josie…please -”

“Please what?” She spun around, arms limp at her sides, hands not even curled into fists as she’d long given up the fight.

Emiliana had tears streaming down her cheeks, black eyeliner dripping down with them. “I am unwell.”

While she certainly, really looked like it – a sweaty, thin mess, her hands shaking at her sides – Josie didn’t seem to bite. “You’ve been unwell since I met you. Little has changed. Maybe, I’ve changed – and I’m done dropping everything to try to help you make yourself well, which is something you’ve very clearly indicated, you have not a shred of interest in.”

“You have changed,” Emiliana cried. “You have always been changing – into the person you were meant to be. I am holding you back.”

“Oh, Emiliana must we rehash this while I wait for a cab?” Josie grumbled, unlocking the front door after pulling a cross-body bag over her shoulder.

“No, no,” Emiliana insisted. “We do not have to rehash anything or carve out old wounds. I will simply say – what the end of the discussion was going to be. I release you, Josie.”

That stopped her movement, at least. Her attitude though?

Josie turned slowly to look at her with a glare. “What the f*ck did you just say to me?”

“I said,” Emiliana nodded, twin tears trailing out as she repeated herself. “I release you, from me. I shall not be your burden, anymore.”

“Are you…are you breaking up with me?”

“I would prefer not to, but…I cannot keep doing this to you. And I will. I always will. It might not always be addiction – but surely, something else. I…I want to free you of it. Of me.”

Josie dropped her bag, marching closer, gripping her shoulders, glaring at her as she cried. “You must be high!”

Emiliana let out another sob of a sound, shrugging. “Actually, I believe I am making the most sense I have in a long time. They said – in rehab, if you love something, learn to let it go.”

“So you’re just going to give up? On us? On love? Because it’s hard? Because I’m pissed at you, for being a half functioning human when I’m trying to keep my life afloat and I can’t even wake you up from a nap, and get mad about it; you’re just going to break us up?”

“I am always going to be a half functioning human, at best,” Emiliana heaved out. “And I have been so far from my best that I do not believe I will be able to ever be able to be anything but a scorn on your life, a thorn in your side. I love you, more than anything. More than anyone. But it has not been enough to keep me from slipping.”

“You’d slip all the way to the end of your rope without me. You can’t survive without me! I know you can’t! So don’t try to make sense of this now. You’re not supposed to make any sudden life changes after you get out from rehab anyway. You’re not breaking up with me, that’s stupid. You’re reckless, but you’re not stupid.”

Emiliana sat down on the edge of the sofa. “Maybe…maybe, not breaking up. But taking a break. I think – you need to see other people, Josie. You deserve to be with someone who matches your drive and your intellect.”

“What the hell do you mean? I don’t want that, Em! I just want you! I love you! I’m pissed as sh*t at you right now, yeah, but I’ll get over it! I always do! I love you!”

“That’s just the thing, though,” Emiliana whispered. “You always do. You think you want me – because you have never had anyone else. I think – a long break, it would be good. Perhaps – does Aberystwyth still want you? You wanted to spend a year in rural studies. My state kept you back.”

“You’re serious. Oh, oh my god. You’re seriously going to break up with me.” Josie let out a laugh and a sob at the same time. “No. No. I’m not doing this right now! I have to go. I have to go! We’re coming back to this – and we’re going to fix it! I have to go!”

“I shall not be here when you return.”

“And where the hell will you go, Emiliana?!”

“France,” She said quietly. “I shall go to the country. I will take a year of solitude. I will finish my recovery, and you will meet other people. If, after that time, you think you can still manage to love someone as dark and broken as I – we shall come back together. But for now – I have to be alone. I have to be alone, Josie. You have to be with other people. I cannot be the only person you hold dear. You are worth so much more than that.”

“Thanks,” Wednesday whispered – relieved that her forty-year-old charge wasn’t struggling without her conscious.

She let Piper curl up on her chest, stroking her scales and frowning as she stared up at the galaxies projected onto her ceiling.

Hardly knowing where to begin, Wednesday supposed that anything she’d been sleepless about the night before hardly paled in comparison to what she had witness that afternoon and evening.

Picking up her phone, she composed a text message to Enid, almost unable to help it. I know you’re asleep and I hope this doesn’t wake you – but I want to tell you how grateful I am for you. I am glad you are always able to see through me, give me the time that I need to unpack things, and then help me move on in a productive way. I am seeing the consequences of not being able to be completely honest with the person you love in fear of hurting them. I love you so much, Enid.

Sending it without hesitating, she turned to her side, looking at how Emiliana was lying with her face pressed, left side down, against her pillow, shoulders twitching a little. Deep breaths came out of her lips with just a touch of noise; she was deep in slumber.

She felt a little bit selfish for wishing so – but Wednesday was a bit more than disappointed that Emiliana was in such a state. She had genuinely been looking forward to lying out all her troubles with someone who truly understood…but not so – that time.

Her thoughts spiraled a little bit, thinking about the upcoming hospital stay for Emiliana. Based on the vision she saw of Josie trying to force her into an MRI machine, she had a feeling it was just as challenging for her as it was for Wednesday to be medically fragile and require extensive care. She wondered what her own was going to bring – as it sounded like Dr. Rodman was working on another study, and probably hadn’t spent too much time considering her. Given that she hadn’t had any physical complications since the event with Quinton, she had no idea what they could figure out that they hadn’t examined last time.

Other than the hiccup when adjusting her medication, Wednesday felt that she was largely as stable as she had been, especially with the addition of her blood sugar monitor. She was curious about how she was going to navigate that on her own when it was back to school time and her parents weren’t around, at least for the first month.

Somehow – with things going as well as could be expected, she was more nervous for that follow-up appointment than she probably had a need to be. But with Emiliana’s exceptionally fragile brain taking over Dr. Rodman’s priorities, maybe she should worry more that he wouldn’t have any new information for Wednesday.

With that weighing on her too, she let the thought wander then, to their other commonality; the depersonalization and derealization, particularly. She sat up more, a new path to understanding herself highlighting in her mind, and she tucked Piper into her warm spot before sneaking up the library steps. Turning on the light at her desk, she moved her chair back, wiggling a loose floorboard, revealing a hiding place for her journals.

The one she needed the most, her journey with Larissa Weems in her spider form, revealed itself to her. Part of Wednesday wanted to burn it, part of her had wanted to give it to her aunt, as it felt so invasive to have the collection of information on her, but as she flipped rapidly, it was clear that the events from the previous fall were as much about her own growth as they were about Larissa’s transformation.

Reading her notes to herself about her first partner work with Enid, and how it hadn’t revealed information pertinent to the case, but it had given her some insight into herself that disturbed her at the time, Wednesday frowned. The girl that she was before letting Enid so very intimately into her life was simply not the same…

…but she had been more focused – that was for certain.

As she went back to the beginning and spent over two hours in her own notebook, Wednesday’s ears were throbbing with her own heartbeat by the end of it as she realized a very stark distinction between herself in the fall, and who she was in the summer. She’d made so much growth; her uncle feared it, her mother was proud of her…everyone was so pleased with how far she’d come.

Yet as Wednesday caught the reflection of herself in the light against her windowpane, and she saw just what she’d been able to accomplish in the fall, even if it hadn’t gone completely according to plan, she wondered if she’d have been able to do the very same sort of investigating and discovery anymore.

She’d added so much light to her life; and she also knew – she needed it. All the Ravens that came before her meeting such an untimely death by their own hands, unable to bear the burden of the dark, Wednesday logically knew, that she needed those positive influences around her.

But what was the cost of their brightness?

Wednesday perseverated on her failures of the spring then, the largest – her inability to sense Quinton’s soul, which led to her need to commit an act of murder so violent that her own mother had initially been disturbed by it.

What if she’d become too reliant on the light?

Flipping through her journal for another hour, until the sound of someone not knowing which squeaky steps to avoid – and whom she didn’t want her on the steps in the first place, Wednesday tried to move quickly and hide her work from Emiliana, but her older Raven was faster.

“Doing, what?” She asked, hovering over Wednesday with a groggy face.

“Spiraling,” Wednesday confessed simply. “Your behavior has led me to question my own.”

Emiliana rubbed her good eye. “Want a cigarette? Always helps.”

“No, it won’t, and it’s…three-thirty in the morning, you don’t need one either.”

She coughed (proving that point) and smiled a little loopy. “Hits best at the witching hour, Wednesday.”

“No smoking until sunrise,” She insisted, closing the journal. “Do you remember, your meltdown earlier, talking about how you don’t feel like you’re real?” Emiliana wiggled her hand – slightly. “I used to have similar sensations. I didn’t know there was a psychological profile for that. Apparently, all my mental deficits can be attributed to one or another.”

“Ugh, little bird, your generation has made this loss within control of the spiral. Not everything requires diagnosis.”

“Well, you literally had a full, hysterical breakdown in my orchard today because of it,” Wednesday argued flatly. “You started talking nonsense about Beanie Babies. Not exactly the healthy brain that the DSM-V would represent.”

“And who has that healthy brain?” Emiliana rolled her good eye, putting pressure on the other. “I want to meet the zero patient whom they compare all deficits to.”

That was a valid argument, Wednesday supposed. “Emi, I haven’t really felt as intensely regarding my inability to connect with my personhood since I started to date Enid. There has to be a connection. And, I think the anti-anxiety medication quieted a lot of the things I used to spend a lot of time trapped in my head about, too – though it’s hardly perfect, I was, in fact, getting twisted up in my own thorns before you came up.”

“Thorns, thorns, thorns. I miss the roses,” Emiliana whispered suddenly. “There were roses. At my wedding.”

“Yeah, because you got married. To the love of your life, to Josie – you are her wife, Emiliana. It’s all real.”

“I know that, right now.” She shrugged casually. “It is just that sometimes, I do not know that. I do not take that medication. I do not want any more.”

“I get it,” Wednesday said softly, leaning her head back. “But it helps. I’m sure that your surgery will ultimately be what gets you through this the most. Will you come back to bed with me, and give me another memory, a good one, of Josie taking care of you back in your days of recovery? I remember how sweet she was – you were wearing the awful prism glasses, trying to learn to play Joanne.”

“Oh,” Emiliana sat up. “I remember that time. Piper became mine. Kerrigan lived with us, when my hair was longer. So many bugs, Wednesday,” She let out a breath, smiling, closing both eyes in memory. “Angel down, angel down – why do people just stand around?” Wednesday tilted her head. Emiliana hummed the song for a long while, maybe having forgotten the lyrics. She finally spoke again, “Tomorrow, go – we shall, back to the orchard, and again, try. I will play you, music with words that helped heal my soul. We will both find peace there.”

Really hoping so, as she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take two weeks of Emiliana being as fully unleashed in her despondency as she was that day, Wednesday took a pair of glasses out of her desk drawer, forcing them over her face. Emiliana looked almost instantly put together with the thick, black-rimmed, plastic frames and her hair that was still tangle-free from her mother styling it. Smiling a bit, she said, “That will help as much as the pills I hope Dr. Rodman prescribes for you to take come morning.” Emiliana blinked a bit, giving a shrug to play it casual, but Wednesday was sure it made a difference. Turning off the lights in her library and putting her journal back in her secret spot, supposing it didn’t matter if Emiliana knew about it or not, since she couldn’t read, Wednesday took her by the hand, carefully leading her back to bed. She took the glasses back off and put them at the bedside table after Emiliana gingerly lowered herself to the bed.

Deciding that she wanted a much nicer return to sleep than it had been forced upon her earlier, she decided to recall some of those skills she’d been working on, even if maybe, they were part of the reason for her ability shift.

“I’m sorry for provoking you, earlier,” Wednesday said to Emiliana.

“Since I cannot recall what it was that you said, I suppose I must not hold it against you,” She said with a bark of a chuckle. “Can I vape in here?”

“No,” Wednesday nuzzled her face into Emiliana’s shoulder. “You can show me a good memory for us to fall asleep to.”

“Fine,” Emiliana gave a yawn and rolled to her side, putting a hand on Wednesday’s back. “I wish you to never experience this for yourself. But if you do, I know you have enough more than love to get through it.”

With that, she pushed a kiss to her forehead again and Wednesday tumbled into a gentler memory – still partially under water, but at least she knew it wouldn’t make her drown.

Wednesday was fairly sure she wanted to visit the London house sometime – the layout alone made her think; it was the type of place she wanted to have with Enid someday, though she was sure that the number of staircases were a constant source of fight versus flight for Josie. The detached, former duplex was a representation of the couple, more so than the cottage in Jericho, as that was mostly Emiliana’s playhouse. What had once been two homes, her family had bought and had transformed into one massive property, generations ago. It was far too big for the childless couple – but Wednesday was fairly sure that Josie had been hoarding an obscene amount of questionably legal reptiles in the multiple spare bedrooms over the years and that it had been filled with many non-traditional ‘babies.’

The foyer was attached to a formal dining room, that largely looked unused, with an antique China cabinet holding precious heirlooms and multiple pieces of lizard taxidermy that managed to tie the room to being uniquely theirs. A large portrait of colorful snakes was the showpiece in the room, where Josie was organizing files on a too-long table. She had her hair in a lazy braid to the side, a mid-thigh, dark gray sweater over leggings, socks pulled up to her knees; it must’ve been winter, based on the attire. Altair was snoozing on her neck, and she kept rearranging the papers, shaking her head, trying again with whatever methodology she’d used to sort them.

Her phone blasted pop-punk music behind her, and she sighed upon looking at the screen, pressing a button, activating the speaker. “Hey, papa.”

“Hi, Taddy! I’m bummed that you’re already awake on a Sunday morning, kiddo.”

“Yeah, well – your call probably would’ve woken me if I hadn’t been up already.”

Hugh chuckled. “I just wanted to call before I popped over – I was at the docks last night and rescued a mighty fine group, I figured I’d bring you the snakes, all balls. I’ve got a handsome sugar male, a male magpie, and the sassiest pied girl, with more of a yellow sheen to her.”

“Papa!” Josie chastised, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Altair looked up at the noise, shaking his tail a little bit from her tone, trying to prove he was a good boy, at least. “We’ve talked about this! You are going to be seventy-eight! You have to stop doing this stuff!”

He laughed again. “Honey, I was with the police. They called me – knowing you probably wouldn’t want to leave Emiliana, now that she’s home with you. You are interested in the snakes, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” She grumbled. “I just…I don’t want you doing that kind of work, papa. I can’t be worried about everyone I love all the time, it’s going to send me over the edge. Also, I don’t have any proper, empty enclosures right now! A little warning -?”

“Well that’s why I called, tad, honestly – the ‘tude is very reminiscent of some earlier days.”

At that, Josie sat down, visibly swallowing and frowning deeply. “I’m sorry,” She whispered. “It’s been a tough week. Em is…trying – but…I guess, this was why they wouldn’t release her to me sooner than they did.”

“Yeah, yeah, I figured.” He sighed. “Look – I’m sure she’ll be up soon, I know mornings are a little tough. Why don’t you get her going, I’ll get some enclosures set up – don’t worry, I’ll ask the neighbors to help me load them, and I won’t touch them until you’re able to help me get them up the stairs.”

“Jesus,” She muttered, rubbing under her eyes. “Okay. Okay, papa – can you bring me some mice, too?”

After ending the call, she sighed and said, loudly, “I know you’re not standing around the corner, unsupported while you eavesdrop, Em – that would be rude and stupid.”

The recovering Raven appeared. “Consider me both, bien-aimée.” Her black-brown hair was something like a pixie cut, obviously not her choice – but what it had regrown into after multiple brain surgeries. She had on her glasses, which made her blue eyes look massive. Josie looked ready to cry as she hurried over, holding onto her middle. “The doctor said I do not require the walker at all times, you recall?”

“But – the caveat is that you’re supervised without it,” Josie grumbled. “You’re still unsteady, baby – and I can’t…I cannot watch you take a tumble.”

Emiliana pushed her glasses up and leaned forward, burying her face in Josie’s neck. “I just wanted to spend the morning with you.”

“Well, I’m very happy to do that, just…” The redhead sighed, holding her with desperation. “Please, call for me next time?”

“Will you come lay down and do the cuddles with me?”

“Of course,” Josie kissed the side of her cheek.

The memory flashed to her settling down beside Emiliana in bed, forcing her to take a few pills before she pumped lotion into her hand and ran it over her scalp. “It feels so much better. You’re going to be back to normal in no time, I think.”

“What is normal, Josie? My normal is chaos.”

“I meant – you won’t have these horrible dry patches, not that you’re suddenly going to be an independent girl who just has a bit of a silly streak.”

“I have a major silly streak,” Emiliana mumbled, turning over. “I have a headache.”

Josie let out a sympathetic sound. “I’m sorry. What can I do, hm?”

“Can…can I just be held by you?”

“Always,” Josie replied, flopping beside her and scooting over, pulling Emiliana over her chest and rubbing slow circles along her back. “You know what? For once, you’re wearing too many clothes.” She shimmied her out of the loose-fitting tank top she had on, putting her directly on top of her abdomen, holding her tight and dragging her fingertips up and down Emiliana’s back until she fell asleep.

Moving forward in time again, the memory revealed the sound of someone coming into the house, and then a comical sight of a white and yellow spotted snake slithering at top-speed into the room, hiding under the bed, with a, “goddamnit” heard in the background. Josie glanced down to see Emiliana sitting up groggily and pulling her shirt back on her, whispering, “Careful, there’s a snake on the loose.”

“How would this be any different than four mornings out of the week?”

“Hush,” Josie teased, kissing the top of her head. “Papa, in here!”

He had his hands full of two small crates and a shake of his head. “Darn creature is refusing to be tanked or caged – I’ve been wrestling her since I pulled her off the ferry! Sorry, tad, hey, Mims!”

“Papa,” She reached her arms out and he smiled, setting the other two snakes down while Josie slid off the bed to wiggle halfway under it, trying to convince the other snake to come out. Papa wrapped Emiliana up in his hold, where she sniffed and sighed, snuggling into his chest.

“How’s your headache, honey?”

“Simply dreadful. I should not have pushed myself getting up without Josie this morning.”

“Consequences, darling,” He said softly, rubbing the back of her neck and making her sigh. “Hey, Josephine, I’ll call the neighbors to get the tanks in, you work on getting that slice of pie out so she’s not wreaking havoc on your space, yeah?”

“I don’t think that’s it; she just wants to be unbothered,” Josie said after she gave an extra-long hum. “She can stay there, let me help with the tanks – Em, do not get up until we’re back, go it?”

“Yes, boss,” She sighed, stretching out backwards on the mattress. “Can you play my music before you go?”

“Of course, Joanne?”

“Obviously – I have to memorize it if I am to recompose it!”

“Yes, boss,” Josie teased in return, flipping through a few screens on her phone before the music swelled and she moved with her grandfather out of the room, closing the door to try and keep the spare snake in.

Emiliana was humming along with the song, trying to sing the lyrics every now and then when she opened her eyes with a little gasp, blinking fast as a very familiar snake curled up beside her, face nuzzling into her armpit. “Well, hello, pied girl. You like the music, hm? Or perhaps – you just did not like being handled by a man,” She laughed into a cough, rolling onto her side to look at the snake. She ran a hand over her head, down her scales. “I can hardly blame you, though papa is one of two I trust.”

The snake kept moving all over her, and Emiliana seemed quite enthralled. She continued singing and petting her, time lost until she got to the song that she’d sang to Wednesday in the attic library. The snake curled up on top of her head, giving a squeeze and she sighed. “The pressure feels good – please…do not let up?”

Somehow listening to her, the snake stayed in that position until Josie returned, curiously examining the pair. When she tried to reach over to greet the snake, she unhinged her jaw, meaning to bite. “Hey!” Josie shouted. “I don’t f*cking think so, no, we don’t bite, not in this house!”

The snake hissed in warning, darting down into Emiliana’s top.

Josie pouted and crossed her arms while Emiliana sang the next words in the song and the snake poked out to peak at her. “Oh, for once a snake prefers me, is that such a problem, Josie?”

Smirking, she shook her head. “Papa hasn’t been able to get her into an enclosure at all yet. You know I don’t mind a free-roaming snake, but most of society disagrees. We’re going to have to tame her.” The snake licked Emiliana’s chin and Altair appeared, slithering up to the top of the mattress, staring with a curious, delighted open mouth. The yellow and white snake looked at him, gave a hiss, then circled Emiliana’s neck again.

Altair managed to appear forlorn, looking up at Josie, who was hiding a smile, petting the top of his head, shaking her own. “That’s not your sister, baby boy, you don’t have to feel threatened.”

Emiliana nuzzled the snake and shrugged. “Perhaps this is therapy for both of us, then. I can make her my project, taming her – forcing her to listen.”

“Not sure how you’re going to do that when you can’t do it yourself,” Josie teased.

“We are quite a pair, then.”

The vision flashed forward – Josie and Emiliana both in different outfits sitting up at the table in the kitchen, Emiliana in some sort of armed chair with a waist belt attached to it. Josie’s hair up in a high ponytail. Hugh was bringing in a bag of takeout and it seemed to be a few days later.

“How’s my pied girl doing?” He wondered, looking at the empty enclosure that was set up for her.

“Oh – she loves Em. She hates me, and we’ve yet to get her in the tank,” Josie sighed. “You know I am happy to have a free-roaming reptile, but if we want her at the rescue or university, we’re going to have to get her used to it.”

“Why does she have to go, Josie?” Emiliana asked with a frown. “You have so many who have never managed to leave this home, why can she not be among them? I have tamed her enough! She responds to music. Watch papa!”

“Like the Pied Piper,” He teased when she started to sing her song again, and out of seemingly nowhere, the snake came crawling up her lap and around her neck. When Emiliana pet her, she responded dutifully – though as Hugh made the attempt, she nearly clamped her teeth around his wrist. “Yikes.”

“Be nice, Piper,” Emiliana spoke as the snake licked her cheek, hissing at Josie when she got close. “The Pied Piper, get it? We can name her, can we, Josie…to make her ours? She could stay with us.”

“I know that look, and you know I think all reptiles should be free-roaming!” Josie started, laughing. “But you’re the one who insists, only my partner can be tankless in the house.”

“What if…what if my partner is also a free roaming reptile?”

“Wait…” Josie blinked, her eyes welling with tears. “You’re…you’re serious, Em? You – you’d want…you’d want a partner snake?”

She shrugged. “I have already proved to tame her…perhaps, we can train her, too. Maybe…maybe she can learn all sorts of feats – perhaps, perhaps she can learn to assist me in my myriad of struggles?”

At that, tears slipped out of Josie’s eyes and she nodded with a big, wet smile. “Yeah. Yeah, we can train her. Oh, oh, Em…I…”

Emiliana reached forward and Josie sat on her lap, tucking her palm on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her when the snake appeared, staring her in the face. She blinked. “We’re going to have to work on this, little girl. I was here first.”

With that, she gave the snake a playful shove, planting a long kiss on her human partner’s lips before pulling away. “I think this is going to help you both,” She said sweetly. “You each need to heal, clearly – Piper’s scars might be more mental. But I think this is quite a perfect partnership.”

“I know – ours has been strained,” Emiliana whispered. “With my injuries and need for care -?”

“No, no,” Josie shook her head. “You are not a burden, Em. I love you. I am happy to care for you as long as you need this level of support. You’re getting stronger, every day. And hopefully soon…we can prevent some of the hardships from occurring in the first place.” She reached a tentative hand out, petting Piper with a look of love for both of them.

X

Wednesday sighed as she watched Emiliana resisting her mother’s support even though she really needed it to be able to make any sort of acts of divination work in her state. She finally growled and pulled away from her, asking to be left alone as she wallowed on the couch. Dr. Rodman had already soured her mood from the time she woke up and Morticia had forced an extra pill on her after breakfast; it was unlikely she’d be able to recover from such disappointment that day. Part of Wednesday was flustered by the whole thing – she really thought that adding any sort of psychological medication should’ve been Emiliana’s choice; her mother had stated that none of the adults thought she was capable of making that decision – and that when Dr. Rodman finally called Josie that morning, she’d been the one to approve it.

Meanwhile, Wednesday was experiencing a magical block of her own. Unsure if it was the renewed stress of the situation or something else entirely that she felt taking over her good sense of her witchy practice, she found she couldn’t enter the ether for the life of her that day, failing in both the morning and afternoon meditation attempts.

“You know, darling girl – the more worked up you get, the less likely you are to experience success. How about we take a break? You’ve done very well with evening mediations this summer – maybe the light of day just isn’t calling to you.”

Not in the mood to argue (surprisingly), Wednesday got up to take Emiliana outside like they’d planned, but her shoulders dropped when she found her fellow Raven having managed to knock out for an afternoon nap. Morticia approached with a somewhat nervous expression, tucking Wednesday’s braids behind her shoulders, stroking them down. “I’ve got to make a few potions for El. You could help me, if you’re still in the mood for magical endeavors, or you could find one of your hobbies to engage with?”

“I’m going to work on my writing,” Wednesday growled, giving an about face, trying not to stomp up to her room to gather her materials. It was hardly Emiliana’s fault, what she was experiencing, but Wednesday supposed she was learning, not to expect anything or make a plan with her before her surgery. Settling herself by taking a deep breath in and out with each step up to her tower, Wednesday started packing herself a small bag to spend the rest of the day outside until supper, whether or not Emiliana ended up joining her. Tugging Augustus up from his enclosure so he could have fresh air, too – she explained her sudden intrusion on his afternoon snooze.

With a little tote on her elbow and her backpack filled with anything she could want, Wednesday topped off her water bottle, about to scurry outside when her granny caught her and asked to escort her to the orchard as she required supplies of her own. Trying not to let herself be annoyed by that either, she gave a curt nod, accepting Hester’s hand on her back, steering her to the porch and out around the property. “You know, I’m starting to truly understand you more, my darkling. This whole year, I have had nearly all of my travel plans disrupted. Not that I mind in the slightest – I would much rather support the Ravens in my life. It was important work I did, assisting your mother and the rest of the Doves in the community; but it is hard to make a sudden adjustment when you had your mind set on something.”

“Tell me about it,” Wednesday grumbled when she found the spot in the orchard that would give her the most shade for the longest. She plopped herself down, rolling her sleeves up just a little, as the closer to July the calendar brought them, the more uncomfortable she was going to get.

Her granny disappeared without a word and Wednesday pulled out her blanket, lying everything out just so. Deciding to listen to the album that kept coming up surrounding Emiliana’s recovery, Wednesday started to wonder what sort of soundtrack she and Enid might have for the summer when she returned; something that would hold a special place in their lives for the year to come, to mark the time they were in.

She started writing in a notebook all of the chaotic and unreliable thoughts she’d been having, starting with her concerns about exploring the Mimic lore. Feeling that returning to her thoughts from the fall had been a helpful exercise, she hoped that inscribing her present woes would assist her later on as well, and possibly help her draw connections and find solutions. Her granny reappeared when she was about to record her next topic, taking a seat beside her with a little puff of air out. “Tell me three things that trouble you, and one thing that has you grounded, Wednesday.”

Staring up at her in half-interested surprise, Wednesday vocalized nothing but honesty with her grandmother. “My power and ability, whether or not I’ve had an impact on it by bringing forth so much light into my life in the last year, for starters. My inability to show more physical affection and intimacy with my girlfriend, secondly. And finally – a distinct fear that Emiliana’s fate is to become my own. There’s never been a Raven to live as long as she has, and maybe there was a reason for that. What grounds me, outside of Enid, as she is not with me, is the earth, the outdoors in this season. Though the heat will soon turn nearly unbearable, being among the natural wonders can help me mollify my state.”

“That was far more honesty than I was expecting.” Her granny chuckled and tossed a long strand of black hair behind her shoulders, touching the gray streak at the side. “Now that you’ve unleashed those burdens to me, do you wish for me to give you sage-old advice to lessen them, or simply meditate on them for you and try to manifest some ease to your mental torment?”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” Wednesday asked cheekily. “I shall listen to anything you have to say. It doesn’t mean I will follow-through, you know I am notoriously stubborn and unlikely to be responsive to good and sound advice.”

Cackling, her granny laid back casually, mirroring Morticia so much in the pose that Wednesday had to look away. “I think – you should spend some time talking to Emiliana about intimacy. From what I understand, she isn’t all that into it either. Perhaps, it’s a Raven thing. But after a few good long, wine-drunk chats with her wife this spring where I learned entirely too much about their journey, I know Emiliana very much enjoys making sure that Josie is…taken care of. Maybe that’s just out of a sense of obligation since Josie takes care of her in so many ways. Regardless, I am sure if there were anyone to go to for advice on how to give or receive that sort of love, either of them would be fine to have that chat with. I who accidentally had a gay husband and have not had sex since before my daughter was born, likely not so much.”

Flushing but managing, finding the subject a little bit easier to come up with for her granny, whom she’d never seen any gross, outward displays of physical affection from, than her mother, Wednesday shrugged. “Is your celibacy on purpose?”

Laughing again, Hester mused, “As for your other woes, I think that having light in your life is going to ultimately be what saves it, from what we understand, granddaughter of mine. I’d much rather you have light and less overt displays of power than dead in the dark of the earth, you know?” Swallowing hard, wondering if her granny had a similar meltdown to her mother upon discovering her only granddaughter (at the time, before Enid and she were a couple) was a Raven, Wednesday stared at her hard. “I have no desire to outlive my grandbabies, Wednesday.”

Nodding, she let her finish. “Finally, I think that Emiliana’s childhood traumas and physical injury led to many of the struggles that we are seeing present themselves today. The shunt was a result of her fall during a vision, not the vision itself. You no doubt had your childhood challenges, but not for lack of love, my blackbird. The reason we are taking your seizures so very seriously, along with your other health struggles, is preventative, so that you do not have to go through those same awful sequences of healing and long-term side effects that the other Raven in our lives has endured.”

Closing her journal and crawling over to her grandmother, Wednesday sat extremely near to her and Hester took the hint, drawing an arm over her shoulders, rubbing up and down. “You are bold to open up to me. I certainly wasn’t anticipating this. You used to be of so few words, and to hear you not only share what’s on your mind, but so vulnerably, expressing your fears, that’s…it feels like a new you. It is not, of course – simply, your maturity, but also what you’ve been through, the people you’ve met. Still, I must say, Wednesday, I am very grateful you allow those of us who were already here to continue to be such a big part of it as well. I am thankful you want me in your life, and I don’t have to force myself to be here. I did not always treat my own grandmother with respect or care, and I’m glad that I’ve never had to ask you for either.”

“I often wish I would have treated my own mother with more than I did, prior to Nevermore,” Wednesday confessed. “It felt like my parents had so many secrets. Learning about their history, all they went through – that was important for me to be able to relate to and understand them. And…how they’ve dropped everything for me, it’s…more than I ever could have imagined or expected my parents to do.”

“Ah,” Hester scoffed, winked, and wrinkled her nose. “Mothers and daughters are supposed to navigate treacherous waters for a time in the teen years, it’s so very normal. Morticia was not always kind to her mother, either – but thankfully, when it came down to it, she’d always call for me when she needed me, even if I occasionally was lost in the ether and could not be there for her. Such are my regrets. I was…eager, I’ll admit – for Morticia to go off to school. Having had her so young, and then having to care for her as a single mother, I was not able to engage in my own practice for such lengths until she was at Nevermore.”

“I saw a vision regarding that recently, actually,” Wednesday quietly explained. “After…the night with Garrett. Aunt Larissa was there for mother, though.”

“A true saint, that one. I tried to be there for her as often as she was for my own girl, but unfortunately, Larissa just wouldn’t have it,” Hester sighed. “The last big attempt I had was taking her to the Burlington Mall; I just thought I would treat both girls to some shopping because – I knew Larissa needed some things but…she was just having such a difficult time accepting it all. Your Addams family genes might have you embracing death, but I certainly do not hope you have to experience loss in such a way for a very long time, my darkling.”

Raising her shoulders, Wednesday said, “I was in such denial about losing Larissa as just my administrator that it set off chain reactions I never could have imagined. So, yes – I think when the time comes, I shan’t be coping with the death of a loved one very well at all.”

“I confess,” Hester started, looking off to the side. “When your great-grandmother passed, I…spent a long time, in the ether, chasing her down. She moved on quickly, though – she was able to seek such light. It didn’t make it any easier. It was strange, having lost my husband and dear friend, after we’d split, my mother, all in short time of one another…the only immediate biological family I have left from my youth is Tic, and you’ve seen how glorious that relationship is, that bastard,” She whispered. “It’s strange, the shift of generations. I didn’t know it would feel as it does to be the eldest. I often feel like I’m supposed to have earned far more wisdom than I have. I don’t exactly relate to Emiliana, and your feelings – that depersonalization, or derealization…but I have often felt like I’ve been faking it all, for a long time.”

“Like Imposter Syndrome?” Wednesday wondered. Hester perched a brow.

“I don’t play those little cartoon video games online darling; I can barely navigate that phone. I’m afraid I don’t understand the plot.”

Snorting that both she and her grandmother had enough pop-culture knowledge to even halfway make and understand an Among Us reference, Wednesday couldn’t help her smile (how far the Frumps had come). “Not the video game, granny. It’s – a new age psych thing, probably, made up by people that have too much time to think. But it’s basically, the internal feeling of anxiety of not being good enough at something even though there is nothing external that would indicate that is actually true.”

“Ah,” Hester raised a brow. “I can relate to that, then. Once you are older, people just assume you are the best at something because you’ve been doing it the longest. And maybe that is true – I know potion brewing is something I’ve done since I was thirteen, extreme meditations, entering the ether, spells – light seeking…I just never think of myself as an expert, so when the community of Doves comes to me like I’m supposed to have all the answers. I do my best, but I often feel it’s not enough, or that there is surely someone smarter than me who should be speaking.”

“Now that’s something I never relate to,” Wednesday said by way of a joke and her granny roared in a loud laugh in response.

She was about to make another smart comment when the sight of something incredibly stupid broke her focus. “How in all the realms did she manage that?” Her granny squeaked into a snort as they witnessed Lurch carrying Emiliana on his back while she spoke (likely nonsensically) into his ear and he made no indication that he’d heard her.

“Look, little bird, I have gotten the back of piggy!” Emiliana was excited as Lurch bent down for her to get off of him at a safe angle. She kissed his cheek and patted the top of his head, and his eyes just about rolled right out of it as he grunted and ambled back up to the house. “Sleeping for sorry that I am,” She said with a shrug. “These days it continues to come in naps I did not know I needed.”

“It’s okay. I was astounded to discover that a long conversation with my maternal grandmother has been quite beneficial.” Wednesday promised, winking at her granny, who returned the gesture. Wednesday tugged Emiliana’s hand slowly, glad Piper was with her. “Come, we have plenty of time to listen to music before dinner. I am sure your snake will appreciate it, now that I know more about her origins.” Augustus finally slid out of Wednesday’s top, eager to bother his big sister.

At that, Hester muttered something about her own afternoon meditation, though offered to stay. Wednesday really wanted the time alone with her fellow Raven, and promised to call if anyone’s presence was needed like had been the day before.

Wednesday made to speak to Emiliana once they were alone, but her phone lit up with Josie’s name and she answered quickly, not giving Emiliana a chance to argue. Emiliana looked like she’d seen a ghost as she went pale, apparently able to remember that Wednesday had told her wife the truth about the extent to which her mental health was failing her. Josie’s face appeared, her crazy goggles over the top of her head, and it looked like she’d been crying. It was obvious that she wasn’t calling to criticize Emiliana or further interrogate Wednesday, but give them an update of her own. “Hi!” She greeted in a sob. “I have to show you,” She said with a loud sniff, flipping the camera down to a large tank, filled with itty-bitty sea turtles. Wednesday and Emiliana let out a twin sound most unlike their nature, both finding the creatures of wonder worthwhile, particularly when someone they cared about so deeply was enthralled by them.

“Um, I-Jesus, I can’t stop crying.” The sound of Hugh giving a sympathetic chuckle in the background made Wednesday frown a little. “It’s been a long eighteen hours – but we did it – papa and I saved eighty percent of the hatch we were called for. It’s…it’s all environmental issues, unfortunately, we discovered – so, it’s just going to keep happening if they don’t do something with the beach, but we saved these guys,” She squeaked, flipping the camera to herself, actively trying to stop from having a breakdown. “I-I have to go to sleep, but – I…thought you’d want to see.”

“I love them, Josie,” Emiliana whispered. “You are amazing.”

Wednesday nodded, her genuine love for herpetology and pretty much all hard-sciences related to the study of ecology always ready to be put on display. “I look forward to hearing how you did it. Congratulations. They deserved that and you did great work.”

“Um,” She wiped her eyes, shaking her head, “Are-are you okay? Em, we have to talk – tomorrow sometime, but is everything okay?”

“Complicated things are,” Emiliana spoke. “Wednesday helps.”

Josie swore and her grandfather hugged her shoulders tightly, kissing the side of her head, which was like a switch. “She is psychically drained. I’ve got to get her to bed. Hey, Wednesday, promise you’re working with your mother to help Em, not trying to do it all on your own?”

“I couldn’t if I tried,” She vowed. “Get some rest and recharge. We’ll talk to you tomorrow after you work on your own next steps for the turtles.”

“I love you, Josie. And I am very sorry,” Emiliana muttered. “Sleep well, bien-aimée.”

After ending the call, Wednesday pulled a suddenly emotional Emiliana into her embrace, watching as she crumbled. “Don’t you dare say that you don’t deserve her,” Wednesday cautioned. “You do. She’s wonderful and she loves you and you deserve her, got it?”

“Wednesday, what if…what if this does not get better, after surgery?”

“It will,” She stated confidently. “I’ve had enough visions to know – you’re stuck with us for a while.”

Emiliana narrowed her good eye. “Your visions of horror do not inspire confidence,” She said in a mix of English and French, though it made enough sense to Wednesday.

“Sure, sure – what happens to me in them isn’t great, but you’re there, functional,” She lied through her teeth, sure that her body was not physically giving away any tells as she used to be an expert fabricated storyteller. “I won’t talk about it, but you’re there. Now, what I need to know,” She said, opening her journal, clicking a pen. There was no time like the present to try and distract Emiliana and keep her staying in the world they were in, even if it made her more embarrassed than anything. “Is why I am so hesitant to have sex with my girlfriend, whom I’ve known for a year and a half, have been dating for nine months, and am comfortable seeing nude and being nude with.”

“Baked potato statement!” Emiliana said with a laugh, curling around herself with a giggle after rolling off of Wednesday’s lap with a cough, sucking her vape anyway before explaining her statement. Wednesday raised a brow – not sure she could interpret that. “It is loaded.”

“I hate you.” She sighed. “Look, you, a Raven, were able to have sex with your girlfriend after only three months, Josie told me – it was Normie Christmas. I need more information. What was your thought process, was it ripping off the bandage, or something else?”

“It was a carnal need,” Emiliana recalled, looking up at Wednesday with flushed cheeks. “Not much thought went into it.”

Trying not to let out another exaggerated breath, she said, “Why was it so simple for you, then? Why doesn’t it feel like a need to be filled, for me?”

“I am French; it is not such stigma, sex and nudity. Also, you and I – the brains are different, so very. Injury aside.”

Wednesday nodded, writing that down. “Cultural differences, of course, and neurological differences between us, that makes sense. And Josie…?”

“Was like a unicorn from the day we met.”

“A unicorn?”

“Horny,” Emiliana giggled.

Wednesday wanted to throw herself backwards into the tree or climb up it, but remembered, it was unlikely Emiliana would recall the conversation, and if she wanted information – it was a good time to get it. There was a significant likelihood that she wouldn’t be teased about her intimacy concerns over the next two weeks. “I don’t know that I have experienced that feeling. Maybe – I mean, I…I have, been…turned on, Enid said. But not in a yearning need to experience more.” Wednesday was sure she was red all the way down to her toes as she confessed, “My legs, they get all tingly sometimes when she is wearing something I like.”

“Oh,” Emiliana rolled over a little, picking at the grass and giving a shrug. “I did not often, either. Do not, often – when I am Josie without. It is complicated.”

“So it was Josie’s want, and you wanting to…give into it?”

Emiliana hummed a little. “Have you ever…explored yourself?” Feeling like that was a developmental milestone she hadn’t seen on a checklist anywhere, Wednesday avoided letting her cheeks heat up any more than they already were. “Maybe – try. Picture Enid, and…think about her, and give yourself a go. You might be surprised.”

“That aside, I think…I have a hard time distinguishing romance from lust. I don’t want Enid to feel like I just want something physical from her.”

Again, her older Raven’s true feelings on the subject made her want to squish herself down to the size of a bug. “Little bird, honestly. You have never indication given that was the case! You can want your girlfriend. That is normal. About it, you must stop the worry.”

Not sure how, Wednesday flopped backwards, feeling that the conversation hadn’t gotten her any further than her own mental anguish. “Why do you not speak of these things to Enid?” Emiliana wondered, army-crawling over to her, lying next to her on the blanket, looking at her with her good eye and…

…sincerity.

“It’s so embarrassing. I don’t want her to think that I only want to be with her for that reason, and I don’t want Enid to think that it’s something she’s done that is keeping me from it!”

“No,” Emiliana pushed her head up with her hand, the other on Wednesday’s shoulder. “It is normal. And critical, that you communicate about this, especially. I know that is our deficit of hallmarks, but – you need to. When…when I was eleven, twelve maybe…my parents – my mother, she hit me with the belt when she found me trying to learn about my body,” She said in remarkable English, revealing yet another childhood scorch mark that explained so much. “Did…did something happen to you, Wednesday?” She asked with a gentle, yet suspicious wonder.

Rolling onto her back, covering her eyes with her hands, she shook her head, not wanting to comment on Emiliana’s revelation. At least if she had trauma – that would make sense. But Wednesday didn’t even grow up in purity culture, quite the opposite - so why…why…why?

“Did you feel this way, prior to visions of seeing terrible things happen to others; Genie, Nova?”

With an affirmative shake of yes; sex had always been something she pushed out of her mind, repressed, and felt uncomfortable considering, let alone discussing, Wednesday frowned. It felt like one more thing that made her freakish, abnormal –

“I do not think it is wrong, you know. Lacking desire-”

But that wasn’t it, either!

“I have desire to desire,” Wednesday barked out. “I want to want this! I want to want her! I just don’t know how to marry all my conflicting constitutions and reservations. I also feel like…after we do it – what’s left? If that is the most special thing we can do for each other, why rush, because – that’s…that’s it, right?”

“Virginity is a construct made up,” Emiliana promised, and Wednesday was glad that her state was solid enough that her sentences were largely making sense as she was the one feeling so very fragile that late summer afternoon. “To profit from the sale of rosaries, maybe.” She turned to cough and added, “The first time will be terrible, anyway.”

Wednesday did find a little touch of a smile at that, remembering Josie said the same thing…and her mother had alluded to it as well, when she’d confessed to wanting to have her first time with Gomez in case something happened with Garrett that she couldn’t control. “But it gets better, with practice.”

“Like anything else.” Emiliana put up two fingers in a V and stuck her tongue between them, her half-closed eye already looking like a wink. Snorting a little, Wednesday shoved her.

The music that had started back up after the call with Josie had switched from the album of Emiliana’s recovery to something random and she suggested, “Go to Josie’s rainbow music. Touch with it, you need to get. Yearning is good.”

“I feel like I am yearning for Enid,” Wednesday tried to claim. “I miss her with a tenderness that my old self could not have imagined possessing.”

“Now, add a new layer to that,” Emiliana insisted as Wednesday put on the playlist of music that Josie had tried to get her to listen to before, that Wednesday was just too out of touch with most of it at the time. But, considering the topic, and everything she wished she could open up to, she started to absorb the words as she laid in the heat of the day with her fellow Raven, trying to picture Enid in a way that would allow her to overcome some of the rare insecurities she had.

X

After several days of Emiliana’s full breakdown episodes, hysteric rambling that skipped from one language to another, and frequent periods of lost time, Wednesday was starting to unfurl a bit herself. She hadn’t had the time to really consider their conversation in the grassy knoll, let alone do something about it as it wasn’t long after, Emiliana started to ramble about being alive.

She tucked her in for an afternoon nap, then Wednesday found Morticia standing outside her tower door. She opened an arm and Wednesday leaned against her, having a sinking feeling, she knew what her mother was thinking.

“I’m going to officially put you off Emiliana-duty for now, darling girl.”

Her shoulders tensed, and Augustus looked up from where he was perched on them at her sudden mood – that hadn’t been what she assumed. Looking up at her mother, she felt a question die on her tongue. Morticia parted her bangs and muttered an old welch blessing, kissing it to her and promising, “You’ve done more than enough to help her through this. You do not have to keep shouldering the weight simply because of the power you share. I understand, where you are coming from – what your own concerns are, why you are going out of your way to help. But you do not have to…punish yourself this way. You need to take the afternoon to yourself, to consider everything that’s been on your mind. Go for a long walk, get some air, then come back and work on your homework. We’ll talk more about this, you and I – with your father and Enid, sans Emiliana some time. I am going to take her once she rises for the evening.”

Feeling a little betrayed by that, Wednesday shimmied out of her hold as Thing skittered into the room for his turn to keep a metaphorical eye on Emiliana while she slept. “Have something to eat before you go, though. Your grandmama was using up those apples that were left from the marathon baking yesterday – I imagine she put together your favorite.”

Wordlessly, Wednesday trudged down the stairs, finding Pugsley enjoying his fair share of empanadas and then some at the breakfast nook, talking excitedly to his phone. Recognizing the voice on the other side, Wednesday gave him a shove and he didn’t fight back, merely scooted over to give his sister space, pulling an empanada from a stack for her as Eugene greeted her with far more enthusiasm than she thought was necessary.

“Hey Wednesday, guess what?! You’re invited! We’re all invited! My moms talked to your mom, and Dr. Gallor – Kerrigan, of course, and we’re all invited on a trip to study snails! I mean, you don’t have to come if you don’t really want to – I know, you don’t travel well, but you’re invited! I want you to come, and Pugsley totally doesn’t mind having his sister! I told him, you’re both my friends – and you were my friend first, even if I obviously have way more in common with Pugs.”

Pugs – goodness. “When is it, and what will you be doing?”

He relayed the details – they were going to head out in the next week – something specific that had come up and Dr. Gallor was going to use as it an official environmental mentoring exercise Eugene, but obviously – was probably hoping he’d invite peers along, mostly just so he didn’t have to listen to the boy for a week in the woods.

“I’m afraid I have entirely too many responsibilities here. Between my online classes and recent…unexpected events, it’s probably best that I stay here.” She let out a sigh, giving a brief overview of the summer – that Emiliana was there, and not in the best of spirits.

Eugene was sympathetic. “It’s hard when your body can’t keep up with your brain. Believe me, I know.”

Thinking it was far more than that – more like, Emiliana’s everything couldn’t keep up with simply sustaining her, Wednesday let out a long breath through her nose. She didn’t know the future in terms of years she had with Emiliana – but based on what had been previously said, she thought it would be longer than her senior year. Regardless of whether or not Emiliana would pull through and be with her for a long time to come, Wednesday wanted to be with her during her hard times, even if she was driving her up the wall.

Wednesday stared at her brother after they hung up. “Will you walk with me, Pugsley?”

He nodded enthusiastically, starting to chatter about the upcoming week with his friend and everything he was looking forward to. Wednesday couldn’t deny her jealousy, but also wouldn’t hold it against him as she had been invited, and it was only an act of her own sort of self-imposed duty that would keep her from joining them.

“So…mom said she was going to make you take a break from Emi. How’d you take the news?” He finally dared breached the real subject.

Unable to answer him, Wednesday deflected. “Do you believe that in the spring, or – even fall through my birthday – I was a burden to mother and father?”

“Um, no? Not at all?”

Crossing her arms, Wednesday compelled him, “Tell me the truth. What were they like – those weeks you witnessed between my first hospitalization and the second, when you arrived in Jericho? Mother was with me starting on February fourth – but prior to that…the few weeks after Normie Thanksgiving, until Solstice, and after I returned to Nevermore, until her arrival.”

“Well, mom was really worried. She went from abhorring technology to being practically an organic extension of her cellphone. It was in her hands at all times – like…waiting for a call or message, to be able to pick up right away. And if it had been too long since she got one, I know…she texted Dr. Z a lot. I actually think she was talking to Emiliana a fair bit, too – since she was more available. They kind of have similar day-to-day patterns, when there’s not a crisis or mental health collapse, I guess.” Pugsley sighed. “Okay, now that I’m thinking about it – mom pretty much spent all of her time that wasn’t in her study, sitting on that phone, looking up information about epilepsy and trying to talk out theories with dad for how her potions could help you in addition to different medications…I – I think she might’ve been losing it a little.”

Swallowing thickly, Wednesday paused their walk in the woods, slumping against a tree. “In a vision of the future that I’ve had – I was twenty-three. Mother was here, I lived in New York. She was monitoring my seizure activity, and ended up meeting Enid at the hospital at around the same time she got there…then – she said she wanted to move in for a while to help me recover, even though she knew I’d hate that.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she loves you!” Pugsley let out an exasperated breath, crossing his arms. “When are you going to understand, mom loves you more than anything?”

“That’s not true, Pugsley,” Wednesday could have whined as she slid down the bark, pulling her legs to her chest, her eyes welling up unexpectedly. “Father is the love of her life. Mother loves you just as much! She loves both of us!”

He gave an unoffended chuckle, plopping in front of her cross-legged, picking at the grass as he contemplated, “Having you was the best day of mom’s life. She talks about that all the time. We learned earlier this year, you were what she’d waited for, wanted, done fertility dances and spells and charms for years to try to get. She’ll always love us both, duh. But she’s loved you longer, and she wanted you, more than anything at the time. Of course, she’d drop whatever is going on in her life, now and in the future, to be there for you any time you’ll let her. She’d do that for me, too, I’m sure – I just don’t need her that way.”

Trying to deflect, Wednesday muttered, “Emiliana refuses to allow Josie to be here for her right now.”

Pugsley flopped backwards, giving a thoughtful hum, staring up at the clouds. “Well – that’s a different kind of relationship. I mean, think about it. When you were in the hospital in November, they still had Enid go to class. Yeah, she was with you in the evenings, but – they didn’t let your hospitalization take over her life. I don’t think Emiliana wants this to take over Dr. Z’s life. She’s forced her to be like, the sole caretaker for a long time – and I guess, this round, she really wanted her to sit it out. And it’s not like we can’t. Not that I’ve done much other than make her laugh, but – I guess, Emi wanted to give Josie a break. Now that she realizes, she has other family, she’s relying on us, too. She’s never had anyone but Dr. Z and Papa Zypher before – Aunt Larissa, a little, when she was younger. Maybe…this is a test that she doesn’t even know she’s giving.” He gave another laugh like he had earlier. “She’s testing us to be a member of the family.”

“I don’t know that Emiliana has the mental capacity to play that sort of game on purpose the way I would. But maybe subconsciously…Pugsley, when did you get so smart?”

He sat himself up, beaming at her. “I’ve got a pretty cool big sister. Like – four of them, now. I’ve learned a lot through observation. And twelve weeks at Nevermore was really good for me, too.”

Wednesday sighed, leaning forward, brushing her shoulders against his. “I wish I could come with you and Dr. Gallor and Eugene. I’m jealous. We didn’t spend enough time on snail studies in his class. Well, maybe they did, and I just wasn’t there. I did miss a lot.”

“No offense, but I’m pretty glad it’s just going to be a boy’s trip. I’ve never had one with a friend before!” Realizing the importance of that for him, Wednesday gave a nod and he changed the subject. “Hey, you wanna go make flaming stomp rockets?”

Wincing, Wednesday argued, “I have homework. If I don’t finish something tonight, I’m going to end up behind schedule.”

“Nerd. It’s summer and you choose to do schoolwork, when all through the school year, you were on the floor because you didn’t wanna do it. I think mom named you after the wrong poem. Should’a been Mary, Mary quite contrary.”

“The woe becomes me,” She argued. “University and college credits are also more inspiring for my intellect.”

He repeated her in a mocking tone as he tore off for his own fun, and Wednesday decided she was going to tap into her own entomology spirit and collect fire ants for his bed that night.

As she shifted course to take a small walk along a familiar path that would take her back to the manor in about fifteen minutes and take her past the ant mounds, Wednesday felt a familiar prick at the back of her neck, followed by a panicked alert from her snake on her shoulders.

Moving almost impossibly fast, she got down low, prepared for an onslaught from the universe that would fully chill her to the bone, despite the heat of the day.

Enid and Esther Sinclair were standing toe to toe…Enid’s hair was a little longer – blonde locks just past her shoulders; wearing what Wednesday recognized to be one of her black dresses befitting of a funeral, with a sharp blazer over it, and Wednesday’s timepiece from her birthday tucked into the pocket. She bore a severe frown, and it was obvious that she was doing everything in her power not to cry.

“You have betrayed every single one of your kind, and this is how you present yourself to the council?”

Enid turned sharply on her foot, about to leave her mother, but the irate woman gripped her by the wrist. It shot off something within her, and her fangs extended, claws were at the ready – she was going to transform without the moon at the rate her muscles were spasming. Her mother stepped back, holding her hands up, eyes wide. “I’ve heard horrible rumors about you, Enid. I didn’t want to think they could possibly be true, but…not only, were you a Runt…you imprinted on a psychic from a line of freaks, and now…you’re one of the Degenerates.”

“That’s me,” Enid warned, through a growl, her entire being ready to turn, possibly against her will – it was difficult to say. “I’m a Degenerate.”

“My daughters don’t speak of themselves that way,” A sharp, yet cool and composed voice spoke from the doorway. When Enid stared at Morticia entering the room, her entire disposition changed. Her eyes lost their misty sheen, and the corners of her mouth almost turned up as her muscles contracted and she started to relax in the safe presence of her chosen family. Morticia drew an arm over her shoulder and Esther laughed as Enid took a breath, closed her eyes, and started to withdraw her features.

“She can wear all the black she wants, but she’ll never be your daughter. And you’re already a Degenerate, why would you want to bring yourself down any further with these people, Enid – this is pitiful -?”

“They love me, for exactly who I am!” Enid retracted her claws. “Unlike my birth pack, my new family supports me through every challenge I face.”

“They make you weak, dependent -”

“You know, you do have someone depending on you,” Morticia sweetly drew her nails through Enid’s locks. “Wednesday is finally out of her vision. She’s in the President’s suite upstairs.”

At that, Enid gave Morticia a hug, which she returned ardently, before running off and the vision flashed.

There was the sight of herself, always unnerving, her hair in braids, wearing an outfit that she was fairly sure she’d left in Jericho, indicating the setting. She was crawling on her hands and knees, Enid behind her, a headlamp leading the way in otherwise darkness, following…

…a scorpion?

Making sense of a vision could be meaningless, but suddenly, herself in the vision turned around, gripping Enid tight to her before her light disappeared – and all Wednesday could her was Enid’s scream –

The vision moved to horrifying, up-close images of the Faceless population, in a dimly lit room, looking unkempt – until one appeared with a homemade dagger, and an aura of a yell around her head -

Then, Wednesday was sitting on the edge of a bed, looking like she was trying with all her might not to cry, a sense of failure, and distinctly – rejection on her features.

The vision next showed herself opening a chest, revealing bones and a piece of well-worn parchment, wearing a mix of disgust and disappointed.

Finally, was a sequence, quick flashes that had a nearly warped filter on them, coming at her at warp speed:

Larissa Weems inaudibly upset in an office that wasn’t at Nevermore -

Josie sobbing hysterically, on the floor, heaving the most horrific sounds -

Morticia and Gomez folding a crying Enid to them, in a sterile, white setting of some sort –

Wednesday looking demure, her hands together in front of her as she stood before a…judge? But it wasn’t a United States Courthouse, based on the symbols… -

Typing furiously away on her laptop, with a scorn that could’ve powered a city on raw anger –

Her fist colliding with the face of a Fur in a Nevermore uniform –

And finally, sitting in front of Tyler at a familiar kitchen table, her snake circling around her neck as he visibly seethed before her -

“Oh Wednesday,” Her mother sighed, helping her hover onto her side as she started retching, trying to keep her from getting sick all over herself. The speed of the last few flashes alone made her motion sick, despite being overwhelmed by what the future held. She twisted her braids up off of her shoulders, not reacting as she vomited profusely.

She was sweating buckets, the heat of the late summer afternoon not helping her post-vision reaction. Morticia had already removed all her outer layers on top down to her sports bra, and it wasn’t enough – she wanted to tear off her clothes and get into the lake to cool down. There was no such cooling relief coming, as she couldn’t stop spilling her guts. Somewhere in the background of her miserable life, she heard her mother offer a very quiet, “Thank you, Pugsley.” Groaning, wondering if somehow he’d alerted her to her state after they’d separated, or if it had been fate, Wednesday tried to settle herself, recognizing tears streaming down her cheeks. It was hard to discern in the middle of losing everything she’d eaten since noon if it was just a biological reaction or if the visions were going to force her into that awful fear state that would look so similar to Emiliana’s struggle.

When she was finally to the point of dry heaving, as there was nothing left, Morticia gave her the cool rag that her brother had brought, and then followed up with water when she cleaned her face, collapsing against her side when she finished, shaking and dripping with what she finally recognized to be feverish sweat. “Pugsley, can you help get her inside?”

She let Pugsley scoop her into his arms without hesitating, entirely too weak to make it up to the house herself. She wished it was Enid carrying her, but settled for resting her aching head against her brother’s shoulder.

Practically blacking out, but for more of a valid reason than usual, she found herself coming to, surprisingly – in her parents’ chambers. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in Gomez and Morticia’s attached bathroom – the elaborate, over-the-top features in remarkable shape always making her feel like she was on vacation in her very home. The owner’s suite of the Addams family house was an expansive half of the second floor, with a sitting room that featured a stunning bay window overlooking the property, lined with old, gothic curtains and valances. The dark wooden floors were visible, glossy, well-maintained, and covered in high-quality rugs, passed down over generations, but expertly cleaned. Antique furniture lined the space, featuring a fireplace that was dual sided to the large bedroom as well, with a dark gray, almost black brick mantle that featured photos of Gomez and Morticia over the years. The four-poster bed with all kinds of lacy, dark details was the biggest that money could buy, and the near ancient armoires and attached dressing room could someday feed the family for well over two years if they ever had to be sold for such a purpose. The bathroom was the most impressive in the house – with a tub so large, she was sure both her parents fit comfortably, even if the thought grossed Wednesday out. A small, separate closet held the toilet, and two huge sinks had upgraded, with modern features that made them look like they could have come out of a nightclub where patrons had to know somebody to gain entry. Finally, her mother’s vanity, where she was sitting, lost in space, was an heirloom piece for all the Addams family matriarchs, though Wednesday was pretty sure that her grandmama was never one to go over-the-top with her primping.

“Darling,” Her mother said with a tilt up of her chin – she was in the velvety, vanity chair, having not even recognized she was staring at her own reflection. Morticia had one of those god-awful gel packets from the endocrinologist in her hand and Wednesday didn’t even have the energy to knock it to the floor. “Have this, then we’re going to get you into the tub to cool you down. Your fever has spiked at one oh two, and that is prime for seizure activity.”

Wanting to argue that she wasn’t a baby and that she hadn’t had a febrile seizure since February, the words couldn’t escape her. “I want Enid,” She managed to speak, her voice hoarse.

“We’ll alert her to your state as soon as you’re out of the tub. Please, take this.”

Wednesday slurped up the gel, trying not to gag and gesturing for her water after. She could barely hold the bottle up while her mother ran the water cool, asking if she could help her daughter instead of trying to go at it on her own.

Agreeing to get it over with quickly, rather than put on a production as she might’ve months before, Wednesday tried to stay present in her body, focusing on her goal of talking to her girlfriend after. Morticia made her soak, her teeth chattering and goosebumps all along her flesh for about fifteen minutes, playing her instrument and singing softly in an attempt to keep her distracted while she gave her as much privacy as she could, sitting in the abandoned vanity stool.

“Where’s my snake?” Wednesday asked with a little stutter towards the end.

“Resting, darling – the poor dear must’ve alerted you, then when you were out for longer than usual, came to find me in a panic, and led me all the way back out to the woods. He exhausted himself – Pugsley thankfully was around and took him up to his enclosure when he came to gather things to help you recover.”

“Good boy,” Wednesday muttered regarding her snake (though she was also thankful for her brother), closing her eyes, grateful for the cold so she couldn’t slip into sleep until morning.

Finally free of the cool of the water as the tub drained and she was assisted in patting down to dry, her mother still wasn’t satisfied with her body temperature and put her in a simple cotton, long sleeve shirt, tucking ice in little sachets, wrapped in towels under her arms and behind her neck. Morticia helped lay Wednesday down in her bed, the California King with an ultra-plush, velour comforter and satin, blood-red sheets. Resting her face against the cool pillowcase, Wednesday longed for the day when she’d have an even bigger space of her own to decorate in her own taste, but with Enid’s influence and interests as well.

“Enid is dismissed from ballet in twenty minutes and then has an early supper, let’s let her get there and then call,” Morticia suggested torturing her daughter a little longer, and Gomez appeared to fill the time, depositing all of his worries onto her, trying to get her to speak of her visions.

“It seems like…we’re going to uncover even more when we’re back in Jericho,” Wednesday whispered as generally as she could from what she recalled in her still-feverish state. She’d need time and a clearer head to process what she’d seen and try to make sense of it. Feeling exhaustion creeping in on her, she tried desperately to stay awake long enough to have the promised chat with Enid. She rolled to her side a little, taking her ice packs with her. “I want my bunny. It’s under my bed.”

“I’ll fetch it…Emiliana needs to be roused for supper, as well. Worrying about you Ravens was not how I pictured my early entry to the grave,” Morticia sighed, pushing Wednesday’s bangs back and placing a kiss between her brows while Gomez took her spot. As Wednesday watched her mother try not to be stressed upon leaving, she could only imagine what her private thoughts surrounding those two Ravens in her care sounded like.

“Do you want to tell me more about what you’ve seen? I know we can’t prevent anything, but maybe, we can be prepared for it?”

“In the fall…will you come back to Nevermore, often?” Wednesday wondered. “You and mother have that trip down to Australia in September, but would you live in Jericho again, for any long-term stay?”

“If you, Enid, your brother, or the community need us or want us, we’ll be there without hesitation,” Gomez replied. “We will always be where we are most needed. The very same goes for after this year. If you and Enid are in New York and you’re experiencing challenges with your power or anything else; we’ll be there as fast as we can.”

Wednesday sighed and scooted down, curling up, her temple pressed against his knee. “Father, I fear – I fear things happening to me the way they are unfolding for Emiliana. I know our circ*mstances are very different but…it takes one blow to the head and…”

He rubbed her back in a little circle and she sighed at the touch. It used to feel so intrusive, receiving comfort from her father but things were changing, and she found, even when her mother returned with the weighted, plush rabbit that had been Enid’s lifeline back in the spring, she didn’t make any indication for him to stop.

Pugsley was in the room with Morticia as well, hovering while her mother sat beside her husband, their knees brushed together at the edge of the mattress.

It took nearly thirty minutes of staying horizontal, being carefully put at ease without being pacified, for Wednesday to even start to really come to. By the time Enid called her mother’s phone, they took the ice away as her fever had lowered. The whole family was gathered for what Wednesday wanted to be a more intimate conversation, but she supposed, she’d give them no choice but to allow her to have it the following day when Enid was finally home.

Morticia explained that a long vision had led to physical side effects when Enid immediately asked what was wrong, while Wednesday just stared into blue eyes, willing them to lock on just hers.

“Wednesday? Are you – what…oh,” Enid sighed, biting her lip, glancing up. “I’ll be there so soon, just hang in there, I -”

Preferring to be distracted, Wednesday pleaded with her to talk about the monologue workshop she’d had that morning. Enid tried not to make the conversation all about her, but Wednesday insisted – that was what would help.

As she spoke, her voice sounded further and further away. Wednesday glanced at her mother, her father, her brother…and it was like they were in another room. She squeezed the rabbit to her chest – trying to focus on the feel of the weight, the faint lavender scent that was left inside after so many horrors, doing anything she could to keep her awareness in the room and with the people she loved. She had always experienced more of what Emiliana was plagued with than she wanted to let on – and since that Raven was not going to be able to assist with that, and Goody had only left her feeling even more conflicted, she didn’t know where she could turn to for advice on handling the struggles of the Raven condition…

Until as Enid called her name in a concerned way, Wednesday found a faint hint of a smile, looking back into those sweet eyes…thinking she suddenly had an idea for a way that could help both of them with their Outcast-related strife.

X

Wednesday almost jumped out of the moving vehicle at the sight of Enid rocking on her toes, waiting patiently at the pick-up spot outside of the train station. She blinked in surprise when Wednesday was in front of her, before letting out a little sound of relief, locking her arms tight around her middle as Wednesday folded herself into her hold. As much as she wanted to reject Enid taking any time away from her studies – from what mattered to her for the future, Wednesday couldn’t have been more grateful to have her close.

“Keep it moving, people!” A crossing guard at one of the busiest places in town instructed. Wednesday let up reluctantly, taking Enid’s hand, pulling her into the back of the hearse as Lurch drove away at the same time.

They resumed the cuddle, Wednesday tucking Enid to her side after she removed her backpack, an arm tight around her waist as she kissed her soundly on the lips. “I’m glad you came,” She whispered upon pulling away. Though Wednesday had desperately wanted Enid just to stay and participate in her amazing opportunity, learn…she really was relieved to have her there more so.

“Wednesday, of course! It’s like – less than two hours from door to door. It’s not like going all the way to Jericho and back. Even if it was, I’d spend whatever time on the train or a plane to be with you, even just for the night.”

Kissing her again, Wednesday rested their foreheads together. “Granny’s going to sleep with Emi again tonight so you and I can have the bedroom.”

Giving a little giggle, Enid raised her brows playfully. “Oh, do you have plans for us?”

“Actually, I do,” She fibbed, sure she could come up with something sweet and maybe a bit more intimate than usual after all the talk about it. She’d been really trying to consider the root cause of her hesitation, after the conversation with Emiliana. Wednesday hoped that she could manage to do just one little thing that previously might’ve made her nauseous to even picture herself doing.

“I’ll just be happy to be cuddled up with you, no pressure,” Enid sighed contently. “And, grateful to sleep in central air.”

“I also…have a proposal, for a portion of our evening,” Wednesday muttered quietly – well aware that Lurch wouldn’t utter a word to her parents, but still, not wanting the plan advertised. “I’d like to slip into the ether with you…to talk to Genie and Anika.”

“Oh!” Enid blinked in obvious curiosity, pulling her hands together. “That’s totally unexpected – are you sure Josie would be cool with that? I know she was really sensitive about not wanting Emi to talk to her mom.”

“Largely, I think the reasons behind her comfort with me speaking to her mother would align with you as well. I could ask her first. She appreciates honesty from me. But I think it makes sense, if I get to talk to a Raven, who struggled, in the ether – you should be allowed to talk to a Werewolf who did as well.”

At that, Enid furrowed her brow, obviously not as connected with Wednesday’s inner dialogue to understand where she was going with her logic and argued, “I’m not struggling with being a Fur.”

Trying not to give her a pointed look, Wednesday offered as gentle of a rebuttal as possible. “You have refused to shift during the full moon since everything happened, which – I understood, when you were recovering, but you were fully cleared by the doctor months ago.” If Wednesday was going to actually acknowledge what her issues were, she thought Enid might be up for the same, but at her expression, she was quite uncertain…Still, Wednesday doubled down on the proposal.

“That’s…I…”

Lifting a shoulder, Wednesday reminded her, “Anika refused to shift during full moons, too. You have that in common. And, it also had to do with Quinton Bridger and LYKOS. You could possibly learn a lot just from listening more to her experience. Besides, we know she likes you – she saved your life.” Wednesday was starting to talk anxiously, coming up with anything to say that would keep Enid from feeling frustrated with her. Holding up her wrist, she thumbed the bracelet that she’d strung Anika’s little heart charm on for safe keeping. “You have a connection with her and deepening that can’t hurt.”

Enid visibly swallowed and pulled away, looking out the window. Wednesday bit the inside of her cheek, acknowledging her error as it seemed Enid was more hesitant than she wanted to believe she would be. “Perhaps I should have presented the idea as a question.”

“I’m not struggling, Wednesday.”

“Okay,” She accepted that was Enid’s perception of her own state, even if she disagreed. The idea to speak to Imogen and Anika hadn’t originally been because of Enid, it was her own deficits she was considering, but Wednesday did think it would truly help them both. “What would you like to label the present moment in time as?”

“It’s Saturday, June twenty-ninth,” She said a little more aggressively than anticipated, still not looking at her yet.

Wednesday held back a sigh and tried one more approach. “I’m…I’m sorry, for assuming your feelings. If you don’t want to talk to them – I’ll hold off with Genie until you’re in New York tomorrow night, so we can spend the night together, just the two of us.”

Enid turned to her then, a brow perched. An admission of being wrong, a change in her carefully constructed plan, and an apology? She must have thought Wednesday hit her head when she dropped into the vision the day before.

Her eyes filled with sudden, unshed tears and she bit her lip, shrugging. “It’s not struggling,” She said confidently. “It’s…it’s…” Tilting her head, Wednesday hoped that her face portrayed the gentleness she was desperate to project. “Maybe – it’s…defiance. And…anticipation.”

The hearse pulled up to a red light and Wednesday took the moment to shift Enid closer to her, tucking her in under her chin, kissing the top of her head. “I think this conversation is better suited for a different environment.”

“Yeah,” Enid rubbed her eye with a fist and sighed. “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to suddenly make this about me.”

Kissing again, Wednesday snuggled her closer. “There’s no reason for it to be all about me, either. We’ll be home in fifteen minutes. Here – I have some new music for us. It even has words.”

That made Enid find a smile as Wednesday reached into her backpack pocket for her phone, turning to her green music application, where Emiliana’s suggestion to try to tap into her sexuality more with the rainbow playlist had actually been a little bit…fruitful (excellent; Wednesday had unlocked making gay jokes to herself). She’d added a few tracks to her likes and listened to them with her headphones on repeatedly under a shady tree when she should have taken the precious alone time to finish a lecture instead. The first selection she played even tapped into what Emiliana said to give into; picturing her girlfriend and trying to…explore herself more. While Wednesday hadn’t come that far over the course of the first week of her visit, she had at least been…thinking about it. “Ohh – this is slow…kinda sexy, Wednesday,” Enid teased a little, finding a smirk. As the refrain picked up – an entire lyrical tribute to a bit of wanton lust, Enid purred a little sound that made Wednesday’s legs tingle. “Um, this is really hot.”

Rolling her eyes and finding one of her own, Wednesday simply replied, “It resonated – with what I was feeling…while missing you. What I’m trying to persuade myself to feel. It’s not you, it’s me – but…I’m trying to picture…us. I want to, desperately.”

“Well, I’m quite confident I do picture you the way you picture me…maybe even…a little – less on? Depending on the nature of the…you know – little…fantasy, I guess.”

“Mm, I was picturing you in quite a state of undress,” Wednesday managed to give a playful little dirty talk even though it felt completely unnatural coming from her lips.

“Really?” Enid giggled, squeezing her thigh and making Wednesday’s palms itch.

Recognizing that she’d changed the previous conversation because Lurch was at the front of the car and she didn’t want to delve too deeply into her feelings in front of him, Wednesday just shimmied lower into the seat and shushed her playfully, closing her eyes and wishing they were swaying together to the slow song.

The music played on and they listened quietly, in the best snuggle they could manage for being in the back of a moving vehicle. Finally making it home, Wednesday was not surprised to see Emiliana on the front porch waiting for them, Augustus and Piper popping bubbles that she was blowing for them with her eye patch on over her good eye. Her granny sat just slightly behind her, a book in hand, while Thing was pretending not to care about the bubbles (failing as a large one came into his space, and he slapped it unabashedly).

“Emi!” Enid greeted her excitedly – clearly happy to see her, no matter her state. Emiliana thankfully didn’t try to get up, though she did cap the bubbles as Enid approached with a hug.

Pulling her right down to her lap, Emiliana explained, “You have been missed, mighty wolf.”

“We missed you! I’m sorry you’re having a rough go of things right now. But I’m glad you’re here! There’s really no one who can help you heal fast like the Addams family. I mean, I know mama Addams really can’t just pour potion into your brain the way she could my spine, but…”

“Grateful, am I, to be a part of it,” She said softly, giving Enid a squeeze. “Now – go, the last thing the two of you want is to be stuck out here with an old kook.”

Wednesday let her eyes spin, unable to help herself as she harshly clapped a bubble together in her hands while she watched Enid give Thing a high-five then deposit a hug to her granny. Once inside, her mother, expectedly, greeted her in the foyer with a joyful embrace. “Welcome home, sweet girl – even if it’s just for the night. Wednesday? It’s after two, please snack before you head upstairs.” Not arguing, she tugged Enid into the kitchen, where her grandmama passed over a plate, having anticipated her need to eat. Her brother was predictably already in the little nook, greeting Enid with a mouthful of food. She scooted in next to Pugsley, squeezing his upper arm before confirming to grandmama that she had eaten lunch on the train, and the mid-day snack would be plenty.

He asked her about the theater classes, she answered enthusiastically, and then ensured her interest in his upcoming trip. As she stuffed herself to try and finish quickly, Wednesday was growing bored from the chatter and practically begged Enid to finish with a silent graze of her fingers across the back of her wrist.

“Oh, yep!” She interpreted the cue accurately, giggling. “Let’s go!”

She clutched Wednesday’s hand, giving a wave to Gomez who tried to greet her properly, but followed it up with a full belly laugh as she stumbled both over her own feet and words, trying to be polite but explain they had places to be.

Wednesday closed their bedroom door behind her and gave a hearty push to Enid’s shoulders after detangling her hand, plopping her onto the mattress and putting a leg on either side of her hips. “Are you picturing me, like I picture you?” Enid sang the song from the car to her and Wednesday just smirked. She thought that’d be one that Enid really latched on to, and it seemed like she was right. Now if she could just completely internalize the lyrics and fully move past her mental blockade, moments like the one they were in would be so much more exciting.

Enid’s sundress had already ridden up to her thighs, pink shorts that were underneath visible. “I don’t need to picture anything, it’s right here, in front of me,” Wednesday disagreed, tugging on the hem of the dress. “This is real. You’re here. And you always will be,” Wednesday spoke earnestly as she thought about how she’d been so faded out after her vision the day before – all of Emiliana’s struggles…she could hardly focus on the moment she’d tried so hard to build up! Needing to say it to get it all off her mind and try to be incredibly present and dedicated to touch, she explained, “You’re always going to be here, when I really need you. Because you want to, not out of obligation. And even if it sometimes feels like a fantasy, like it’s too good to be true, I know, with everything in me, that this is real.” She peeled Enid’s dress up and off, revealing a little lacy camisole that was serving as her undergarment. She slipped a hand on either side of it to her sides, making Enid sigh and lower her eyelids just a little as she looked up at her in a lost sort of love.

Wednesday let out a brave breath through her nose, getting the last of it out there so that they could enjoy themselves. “In a full confession, much of my thinking has been negative, lately – even before you left. I constantly think that I’m not able to give enough of myself, physically. I’m worried about intimacy.”

“Well, I know that,” Enid said softly, hands covering Wednesday’s. “But trust me, Wednesday, I’m never going to push you to do more than we are ready for.”

“But your wants are more than mine,” Wednesday expressed. “Just…the way you said – you’re imagining things, before you go to sleep, I know that it’s way more than I’ve been working myself up to…”

Enid trailed her hands forward, hugging Wednesday tight to her. “Stop, right now,” She commanded in the gentlest tone she had. “I said we for a reason. Yes, I do – imagine what it’s going to be like someday. And I have been touching myself far more often since I’ve been in New York, because I am lying there alone. That does not mean that I am coming home expecting to do those things with you right now. I am for sure, looking forward to the day when it comes…when we come,” She laughed even though she had to know how red Wednesday’s cheeks would flush. “But there isn’t a deadline. There’s not someone checking in on us to make sure we’ve started having sex by a certain time. When we are ready, we will do that. It’s not just me. It’s us.”

“I’ve been…trying, to touch myself,” Wednesday confessed even though she’d rather have been swallowed up by the mattress. She could see Enid holding back a wide smile, trying to project understanding eyes, when the idea was very exciting to her. “Emiliana said she thinks that I was kidnapped by the church and brainwashed without remembering it, because I act like someone’s going to banish me to hell for masturbating.”

“Emiliana isn’t exactly the source of sound advice I’d go to for anything,” Enid shrugged. Wednesday wanted to say then why were you on your way to her when Quinton kidnapped you, but she firmly held that in her mouth. “I love making out with you. I love touching you, where we have been. We don’t have to do anything more than that. But if you want to try – I am open to it. But only what you want. We’re together for the long-haul. There’s no need to rush this.”

Wednesday hid her face in Enid’s neck, sighing. She thought it would be a simple confession and that was it; and while she was grateful that Enid was willing to talk it out, it really was more mortifying than she’d have liked. “That’s…that’s another part of it. One, that everyone says the first time isn’t great and not to expect much, and two, that I’m worried – once we do finally go all the way, what’s left? I feel like I want to give you so much, but…”

“Oh, Wednesday,” Enid stroked her cheeks. “You gave me your trust, your love, your comfort, your companionship, your family…? You have given me so much. And you continue to give me more and more. This vulnerability you’re sharing with me right now? This, right here – this is everything. Other people don’t have this. Do you understand how rare we are, to be able to be this open? Trust me, I talk to a lot of girls because I literally can’t ever keep my mouth shut. No one else has this. And I am so glad that we can talk about this! I’m glad you didn’t keep these worries stuck in your head.” She cupped her jaw, pecking her sweetly. “When we are ready, the first time isn’t going to be so awkward, because we already know how to communicate with each other so well.”

If that were true, Wednesday wouldn’t have been expressing her thoughts sitting in her lap – but she supposed, the absence from her girlfriend had made her at least able to vocalize the thoughts instead of keeping them trapped in her mind. “Is there anything else you want to tell me about?”

Wednesday swallowed and looked down at Enid’s lacy camisole, stroking the edges mindlessly – feeling so grounded in her hold, with her arms locked around her, touching her face, squeezing her sides, being able to grip her hips with her thighs, touch the delicate fabric...it was so real. She hated that Emiliana couldn’t feel that with her wife. Flickering her gaze up to Enid’s again, she offered, “I’m just nervous about the continued psychiatric consequences of my abilities. As always – Emiliana is my living cautionary tale, and I care about her so deeply, but I don’t ever for a moment want to turn out like her.”

“That’s understandable. But – hopefully, you know, we keep working at your physical mental health, keeping your brain healthy, and doing your best to avoid hurting your head during the visions, letting us take care of you after, like you did with your mother and father yesterday – that was such a big deal. If you were suffering on your own…” Enid let out a sigh.

“I’m also,” Wednesday squeezed her eyes shut. “I wasn’t going to tell you this. And if you do anything about it, I swear to all the ancestors in the cemetery, Enid – I’ll make you regret it, but – I feel some jealousy about you having this summer intensive. I asked Larissa if she’d help me put together something more directly related to my own future, and she refused.”

Enid’s features betrayed that it was a completely neutral response she was having to discovering that Wednesday was jealous. But she had the good sense to first ask her, “Why isn’t Larissa willing to help? I thought she said she would, help you learn more about all the Outcast stuff from a legal perspective?”

Explaining how her surrogate aunt was unwilling to assist her efforts to tune into the future until she would tap into the present, Enid wrinkled her nose. “I guess I can see her perspective. Maybe…maybe all of that is just too big of a task to shoulder alone, Wednesday.” She nodded, an idea of her own clearly forming. “I would like to make a proposal.” She squared her shoulders a little bit, offering a genuine smile. “I suggest that tonight, we do talk to Genie and Anika. You are absolutely right. If you can own up to all these thoughts that are so hard to say, than I can own up to mine. I am fully disconnected with my wolf, I don’t want to reconnect, and I feel better off without it. I almost feel superior to other Furs right now – that I don’t have to let that side of me out. They’ve got names for wolves like me…and if I’m going to stand in front of a council someday? I can’t be this disconnected, otherwise they’re going to think I’m a phony and that my ideas aren’t valid. So…” She nodded to herself. “I think that talking to someone else who went through similar trauma would be helpful.”

Squeezing her impossibly tight in a hug, Wednesday nodded, hoping that they wouldn’t be trapped in the ether all night long, as time moved so differently there, but knowing it would be well worth it. End kept going, “You are going to help me move through that, present truth. And when my intensive is over, during and after our vacation, I am going to help you move through this difficult present of being a Mimic. We’re going to read and research and figure that out together, too. We both think we want to help the Outcast world, but we haven’t even helped ourselves! Hello, airplane rule! We totally need to tune into our own abilities so that we can protect others.”

Feeling like for the first time in days, Wednesday’s shoulders relaxed, her breath came out in a sigh of relief, and that there was hope – that the reality in front of her was exactly where she was supposed to be, she held onto Enid’s middle, forcing herself not to cry. She had opened up, certainly in Enid’s absence. She’d spoken to her parents, Larissa, her granny, and her fellow Raven about all those myriad of twisted fears…but she should have known all along…it wasn’t a burden to let Enid carry them. It was exactly where they needed to be placed.

“Enid,” She said, keeping the choke out of her voice. “I love you.”

“I love you,” She echoed, pulling away to tilt Wednesday’s chin down for a long, well-sought-after kiss. Putting her hands back on her sides, Wednesday decided that so long as Enid wasn’t expecting anything more than they’d been doing, she could try to surprise her a little, knowing that if she asked her to stop, Enid would.

After pulling away from the kiss for a second, she removed her last layer on top. Wednesday couldn’t help the way her eyes trailed from Enid’s down, keeping in mind that it was not disrespectful to stare at her, to want her. Admiring her body shapes and color, she smiled just a touch more; Enid wasn’t prone to tan, but the time she’d spent in the sun with Wednesday had left little lines where her tank top straps rested.

Enid tugged on Wednesday’s top, obviously wanting the same view. Peeling it up and tossing it to the floor, Wednesday unzipped the constricting sports bra she had on, adding, “I think there’s something very symbolic about how I wear so many layers, yet allow you to strip me of each and every one of them.”

“Trust, Wednesday. It’s all about trust,” She rubbed her bare side and kissed her clavicle. Enid looked up at her, that sensation more evident than any others in her gleam.

“I trust you more than anyone,” Wednesday reminded her. She ran her fingers through Enid’s hair, taking out the little clips at the top and putting them on the nightstand. As much as she loved sitting on her lap, she wanted to lay down so that Enid would roll her underneath her body and take control of the kiss. “Let’s share a pillow?”

They stretched out beside one another at first. Enid ended up with a little giggle as she pulled Wednesday’s hips to hers by her backside, wondering, “Do you want to lose the cargo shorts? The pockets and zippers and canvas can’t be horribly comfortable for these kinds of activities. You can keep your panties on,” She assured her with a wink. “I’m just saying.”

Letting that trust and continued vulnerability be put on display, Wednesday thumbed the button through the hole and slid the zipper down, wiggling the black shorts off and kicking them at the ankles, rolling onto her side in just the pair of plain black underwear she’d pulled on that morning. Enid kissed her neck, up to her ear, then whispered, “Can I squeeze your butt?”

Unable to help the sound out of her that she was sure was as akin to a giggle as she could produce, Wednesday took her soft hand from her hip and placed it on her backside in permission. Enid let out a near purr, kissing her hard, letting her tongue dip between her lips, not going in for that yet. Wednesday sighed into her mouth. For someone as previously disgusted by the sight of others tongue-kissing as she was, she enjoyed the experience significantly for herself. Putting a hand back in Enid’s hair, she found herself giving the blonde locks a tug when Enid gave her the squeeze she was waiting for, managing to move her mouth a little with it. Feeling an involuntary shiver of liking it, she tried to take over the kiss, when Enid’s movements made the elastic at the backside of her panties shift. With the skin exposed, Enid’s next exploratory touch was on bare skin. Wednesday’s heart palpated twice as fast but she pushed through and into the kiss, daring to try and take over with it.

When Enid must have decided that her little ass-grabbing wasn’t worth losing dominance, she tapped into her Werewolf strength and twisted Wednesday’s frame, putting her on her back. Exactly where she wanted to be, Wednesday winked an eye open, watching as Enid took a turn to sit on her thighs. She felt a little embarrassed, exposed – being a little bit ogled, but resisted the urge to cover up. Instead, she reached for Enid’s hands. “Do you want something?” Enid teased her playfully, bringing them up near her own breasts, just shy of touching.

“This is…this is how I pictured us,” Wednesday said softly. It was true – in her…daydream during her first attempted exploration, Enid was on top, touching her, while she managed a few touches back.

“Awe,” Enid dropped her hands and scooted down, lying more on top of her, their breasts coming together, making Wednesday close her eyes and let out a sigh, her palms settling on Enid’s shoulder blades. She kissed along her jaw before finding her lips again, and Wednesday let herself be kissed and loved on, following Enid’s lead.

Lost to time in the exact, best way, she sighed so contently when Enid laid all the way on top of her after an extended make out session that might’ve been their longest yet. She tucked her face into Wednesday’s neck, nuzzling there and kissing along her pulse, whispering, “I’m so…unbelievably happy with you, Wednesday. It’s…I know – there’s like, an unimaginable amount of endorphins roaring through me right now. But just being with you, this intimacy, it makes me feel like all that other stuff that we’re stressed about; so worth exploring and figuring out, but – this makes that seem small. Our love is bigger than our fears.”

“That’s beautiful, Enid,” She whispered, thinking that while she was feeling particularly bold – and with as blissed out as her own neurons were, she kind of wanted to offer a new maneuver for Enid to try, she also just liked the sweet little moments in their relationship like a post kissing and heavy petting cuddle. Thinking that she’d keep picturing it – what she wanted to experiment with, and maybe by the next time Enid was home with her, they could do it, Wednesday just kissed the top of her head repeatedly, letting a few more minutes pass before finding Enid’s dress as she sought out her shorts and shirt, feeling the sudden urge to no longer be mostly naked.

Despite having covered back up, Wednesday could hardly believe when her mother had the nerve to interrupt them suddenly – until she heard the screeching of her blood sugar alarm from down the stairs. “It’s happened. I’m a slave to technology.”

“Well – it’s that or you end up real cranky on me and after that – I’d be a little disappointed,” Enid teased.

Flushing, hoping her mother didn’t think they’d managed to go all the way and want to have some sort of chat about that, Wednesday felt Morticia sit on the edge of the bed. “I trust you had a lovely reunion.” Wednesday groaned, flopping back dramatically while Enid came over for a side-hug.

Morticia’s expression read that she was just happy that her daughter had the type of love she did, no matter what they’d gotten up to in the bedroom that late afternoon into early evening. “Dinner is ready, but – I’ve asked your father to excuse you both – and ever the hopeless romantic that he is, he wanted to ensure you had a date night. Lurch set you up a private meal on the screened-in porch.”

“Awe,” Enid squeaked. “That’s so cute! Come on, Wednesday! Thank you, mama Addams!” She kissed her cheek, pulling Wednesday’s hand to head down the stairs.

“Could you go check that Augustus is still with Em or Pugsley first?” Wednesday wanted a moment with her mother. “He keeps getting into the medical oddities and I swear he’s going to lose more than a scale soon if he doesn’t stop being so nosey.”

“Sure thing,” Enid dashed down and Wednesday looked at Morticia with a sigh. “I’m sure everyone was probably hoping to spend time with Enid, but – we made a plan for the evening and we actually won’t have as much time physically together as we’d hoped because of it.”

“Of course everyone would like that, but as we understand her time is limited; we want her to spend it how she wishes. I suspect that is together with her girlfriend.” Morticia squeezed her hands. “If you need a private booking in the playroom as well, please – don’t let me stop you from having a good time,” She said with a throaty chuckle.

Rolling her eyes, Wednesday explained that they would be entering the ether for the purpose of speaking to spirits and hoped that Morticia wasn’t entirely too distressed about that.

“While that’s certainly not how I’d spend my one night with my beloved, it is an excellent way to support you both with your Outcast needs. I simply hope you aren’t trapped for the real-world hours that feel as though they pass by in minutes in the other realms.”

Very much hoping for the same, they headed to the main floor of the manor, where Enid was talking excitedly with Pugsley and Augustus. Emiliana was sitting in one of the family room chairs with a far-away look, and Wednesday easily recalled that she was not responsible for her as she took Enid’s hand, allowing her to finish the conversation, but then leading her to the back porch on the side of the house near the conservatory – it used to be part of it, but at some point, the Addams had added another glass panel to divide it out, and removed three glass sides, replacing them with screens. Two long-bladed ceiling fans kept the space from being entirely too stuffy in the summer.

Lurch had put in more than his fair share of a handsome touch to make the evening special, though she suspected her mother and Emiliana had likely also had something to do with the lovely altar that was set up along with the table spread.

Sure that was the case as she led Enid to it and knelt down, Wednesday pushed through a threatening haze of tears at the care that was extended to them. They’d thought through a myriad of romantic gestures and old, Frump traditions to celebrate a couple and do a little magic. She was touched to get to participate in them with her girlfriend.

She recognized the altar scarf – it was the one that her mother used on anniversaries with her father. A satin red, with black traditional symbols for love embroidered over and again in a repeating pattern. Three candles, in black, pink and red were present, with Rose Quartz and Moonstones arranged for their strongest use; all ready to enhance romance. Morticia had added a few of her famous black roses dried in a jar, with stems full of lovely thorns on display in a vase. What struck Wednesday the most was a new protection oil, with a small note on it, a picture she didn’t recall her mother taking – but must have been at the wedding, of the girls kissing on the dance floor, and…

“Enid, these are my mother’s heirloom cards,” She whispered, recognizing a very special set of tarot cards that she’d never been allowed to touch before. She looked at Enid, who was overwhelmed. “What if we have dinner, then we have ourselves a blessing before entering the ether tonight?”

Kissing her in agreement, Enid commented on the beauty and thoughtfulness of the gestures before delightedly taking her seat with Wednesday at the table. They removed the cloches and started on a famous smoked, red meat that her father must have spent at least twelve hours on.

Their love was loved – and the family wanted that to be more than obvious that evening.

Wednesday played the music on her playlist quietly throughout dinner, taking Enid’s hand halfway through after the meats were cut, dreading the following afternoon of sending her back already. Enid kept looking back at the altar, recalling nearly all of the symbolic meaning behind the objects, and adding her own intentions with what she hoped they would bring for them as a couple.

When they finished, Wednesday lit the candles with a wave of her hand but needed to do at least one more overly romantic gesture with her girlfriend before getting into the witchcraft of the night. She planted an over-the-top kiss on Enid’s wrist, traveling her lips up to her shoulder asking, “May I have this dance?”

“Always, Wednesday,” She said with an unabashed giggle. Wednesday put on their new song. Wednesday decided to lead them in the slow dance, mostly swaying, but she spun her a few times, stepping forward and back, until it closed on a perfect kiss.

Taking her to the altar, she began with a reading of the cards, curious about the progression of the relationship. She gave a careful, special shuffle, having Enid cut and order the deck before giving a flip to their past. “Appropriate and very true,” She said softly, revealing a dark-haired woman sitting on the floor of the earth, surrounded by prey animals, a blanket over her shoulders, and a bag of coins on her lap. On her head was a flower crown, though instead of pistols in their centers were five-sided stars. “The Queen of Pentacles represents care, practicality, sensibility, and creature comforts. Tell me, how do you interpret this as it relates to how our relationship has been?”

Enid drew herself a little more to her knees, her expression of far-away memories almost whimsical. “I had to teach you to give into creature comforts, to learn to experience soft. You had to learn to be cared for, and I had to learn a lot about having more practical expectations about honestly, everything, living life without a filter, without needing to be seen. We also worked so hard to just make a relationship about what made sense to us, not how others would see us.”

Unable to help how she cupped her cheeks and kissed her slowly, Wednesday pulled away, telling Enid to draw the next card. “Our present…Yikes, tell me how this is a good thing?”

Wednesday stared at an age-old illustration of justice scales, held up by a demon-like creature that she didn’t recognize from any folklore tradition she was aware of. Wanting to ask her mother and granny about what that meant to the Frumps, she explained, “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing; this card says… exactly what we’ve discussed today, in a way. We’re evaluating, ourselves, and the world around us. We’re reflecting on what has happened and seeking meaning from it. We’re looking for renewal, our purpose and possibly, seeking an awakening.”

“This seems promising, and it totally checks,” Enid whispered, clutching Wednesday’s hand. “I need to connect to my Werewolf side if I hope to make changes in the Outcast community for Werewolves. You need to understand what it is to be a Mimic and your purpose for that. And as for awakening – maybe…maybe we will be able to truly tap in and be light seekers, Wednesday!”

Trying not to be overly inspired by that as she knew about the power of dreaming big, but also recognized her limitations as a creature born for darkness, Wednesday wanted to finish the spread – desperate for hope. What she’d seen in her vision, though she hadn’t taken the time to make too much sense of it, hadn’t offered any in the slightest. “And the future, Enid – flip the card for the future.”

“The four of wands.” At that, Wednesday stared at the picture of four wands standing in place of a picket fence, in front of the centuries-old Frump home in the Great Plains. She swallowed thickly. “Is it…a good sort of sadness you’re experiencing?” Enid asked in a nearly timid tone.

“It’s…a lovely vision of the future,” Wednesday whispered, staring at the simple colors – likely diffused natural materials in water for paint, at least a century ago if not longer. “It means…home, community – gathering, belonging. It means togetherness, Enid. Our future, it means togetherness.” Maybe – that wasn’t meant to be while she was a student at Jericho; and perhaps, not for another five years as she finished law school, seen suffering still at Larissa’s home. But at some point – it was going to work out, she had to trust the message that the universe was sending her.

Enid pushed her carefully to lay on her back and reached up for the potion that her mother had left them. She read the note but nodded, having apparently predicted the messaging inside. She parted Wednesday’s bangs, placing three drops on her forehead, drew a heart shape and murmured, “You have all of my love, though I am hardly a Dove – I have a clear vision of us, and we do not need to rush.”

Refusing to let her bottom lip quiver as it threatened to, Wednesday accepted her long kiss to her lips, then pushed Enid back, copying the gesture, repeating her own promise. It was a hurried little promise of a spell that desperately needed better rhythm, but her intentions were set. “The picture of you I have is clear, and I know that time is drawing near. We’ll be able to share this love, and seek the light brighter than the sun above.”

With their own little love ritual completed, the girls spent a few extra minutes in a kiss and cuddle before being prepared to assume a meditative state. Enid lifted a finger, dashed away and returned with her little pink backpack she’d brought home, pulling out a stack of bracelets, shoving them up her wrist. “You would probably think that the Swifties at theater school are more insufferable than non-thespian Swifties, but they did come with great beads. Maybe Genie and Anika would want friendship bracelets? I made these in our forced bonding session yesterday afternoon.”

Smiling with such fondness it nearly broke her character, Wednesday put a hand on each cheek, planting a long kiss to her lips before instructing her to assume the meditative position. She held her warm hands and told Enid to visualize the light end of the ether, tumbling in to seek connectedness.