Work Text:
It was nearing the end of Tyler Galpin's shift at the Weathervane when he heard the all too familiar "ping!" of the service bell.
He turned, expecting to find the last customer who had walked out with two cappuccinos and a muffin, anticipating that they needed an extra cup, a napkin, or that he had missed the exact amount of change he'd owed her. It was possible, Tyler had been distracted all day by what his peers might describe as FOMO. It was the night of the Rave'N at Nevermore Academy, the entire town bustling with excitement. Plenty of normie students had been invited from Jericho High, in act Tyler even heard Lucas Walker was attending, having been invited by Enid Sinclair. But Tyler was reeling, still somewhat hurt that Wednesday had asked someone else to go with her. It was disappointing, and somewhat humiliating to know that she had chosen Xavier over him.
But when he turned around to see who had rung the bell, there was no one there, just a note, folded upright inside of the tip jar. It was thick parchment, outlined in black and embossed in dark initials. W. A. It read:
"Tyler,
I have reconsidered your offer to be my companion to the Rave'N. Pick me up at Ophelia Hall at 8. Don't be late!
W
ps. corsage optional"
A shiver ran through Tyler as his heart skipped a beat, thumping hard in his chest, then another. He assumed Wednesday had sent Thing, being too embarrassed to ask him herself or otherwise occupied with her investigation into the beast which she insisted, killed Rowan Laslow, an outcast he had never had the misfortune of meeting. According to Wednesday, he had attempted to kill her too that night in the woods, using his telekinetic powers to strangle her. It had sounded very outlandish to Tyler, whose only reference for supernatural violence came from sci-fi movies and Stranger Things, but he believed her regardless. She was too serious, too pedantic to make something like that up. She did not come off as the kind of girl to care about let alone desire attention, so he saw no benefit in her lying about what she witnessed.
Tyler glanced at his Apple watch which read 4:59 PM, the Weathervane closing normally at 5:00 PM on the dot. Crap, he thought. That gave him less than three hours to throw together a suit, a corsage, and a less pediatric hairstyle that hid how often he had run his fingers through his curls during the day due to stress. He ran through his closing duties quickly, mopping the floors, dumping leftover coffee and prepping the machines for the morning shift, taking out the garbage. Then he ran quickly to the Jericho florist, a lovely woman named Susan had run it, kindly providing flowers for school dances, funerals, luncheons, and occasionally Valentines Day. She had been friends with his mother years ago, and came in once a week to the Weathervane for a toasted bagel and iced black coffee, no cream no sugar.
He caught her just before she left, loading her car with various recyclable bags.
"Oh hi, Tyler dear. Is there something I can help you with?"
Tyler struggled to catch his breath, having run across the street in just seconds. "Susan. I'm so glad I caught you. Don't tell me you're completely out of corsages for the Rave'N tonight?"
A small smile grew on the woman's face as she closed the door to her car. "Well, for you, I can certainly make a last minute addition."
Tyler returned her smile with a breath of relief, and she smirked, walking over to her shop to unlock the doors and turn on the lights.
"So, who's the girl?"
--
The corsage was perfect, a dyed-black rose surrounded by eucalyptus, and dainty, gold spray painted baby's breath. Susan had been kind enough to include a black box to make for easy transit. Tyler had run home quickly, showering and towel drying his hair, using a blow-dryer and styling mouse he had found buried deep within the drawers of their bathroom, likely having expired over ten years ago. It did the job, expired or not, providing some volume to his natural curls so they did not simply fall flat against his head, but still keeping it neat.
He had remembered that the theme for the Rave'N encouraged a color specific dress code, and panicked upon realizing even the suit he had worn to his sophomore homecoming no longer fit. He searched through the attic, before finding an airtight container labeled "WEDDING".
His parents had both worn white when they were married, his mother fighting against the tradition which encouraged women to put their purity on display for all of their guests while giving free reign to the male party. Tyler felt pained at the thought, reflecting on how much his mother would like Wednesday if she were still here, equally if not more so the radical feminist his mother had been when she was alive. He carefully removed his father's suit, grinning upon seeing it was a size 32, identical to his current waist measurements. He and his father were about the same height, so it was perfect.
He found himself outside of Wednesday's dorm at Ophelia Hall at eight o'clock sharp, knocking on the door, eyes bright with anticipation.
When Wednesday opened the door, she was speaking, though he didn't know what she said. He was too distracted by the fact that she hadn't looked prepared whatsoever to attend the dance, and suddenly felt embarrassed to have gotten so dressed up if Wednesday was attending in casual dress.
He smiled at her. "I got your invite. Guessing you had Thing drop it in the tip jar?"
She opened her mouth to reply before closing it again. "Good guess."
Tyler continued, anxiously spouting words and hoping they came off as charming and collected as possible.
"After our last conversation, I wasn't sure I'd even get to speak to you again, but... Well, your note was so genuine and... sweet. Totally took me by surprise."
Wednesday looked confused, but nodded affirmatively, "Me too."
"Well, now that I'm here," Tyler led, "I'm glad I came. You need a few minutes?"
She shut the door in his face, leaving him to stare at the deep mahogany of her door. He turned around, respecting her need for privacy and carefully evaluating the photos which decorated the long halls of Ophelia Hall. After a moment, Thing had opened the door, coming out for a moment to greet Tyler. He had signaled for Tyler to make himself downstairs near the grand foyer and meet Wednesday in approximately five minutes.
--
He made himself busy staring at the photo of his mother which stood proudly in the hallowed halls of the Academy. He had known for a while now that his mother attended Nevermore, but had never seen the photograph in front of him before. She was a fencer? The thought was unsettling, and he began to wonder how much he didn't know about the woman who had raised him up until her death. Suddenly, in the reflection of the display case, Tyler saw a girl who looked like Wednesday descending the stairs. She was fussing with her dress, a lightweight, lacy black thing that moved as she did. It had a high collar and billowed sleeves.
Tyler's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Her hair was still braided, though instead of falling against both sides of her head they were pinned in a slightly messy updo, stray black hairs framing her face intentionally. As she got closer, he could see her lashes tainted, her eyes lined and decorated with a sparkly shadow. He briefly wondered if she had stolen makeup from Enid, or if she kept some for special occasions. He had never pegged Wednesday as being much of a makeup person, besides the powder she used to hide the freckles which adorned her face like twinkling lights in the night sky, and a dark mauve lipstick which perfectly defined her Cupid's bow and full lower lip.
His jaw nearly dropped as he addressed her. "Wow, you look..."
"Unrecognizable?" she interrupted, "Ridiculous? A classic example of female objectification for the male gaze?"
He was slightly emotional then, reminding his thought from just hours ago about the similarities between Wednesday and his mom, swallowing hard.
"Amazing," he stressed. "I mean it, Wednesday. You look beautiful."
--
When they entered the dance together, sans corsage which Wednesday had pointedly ignored, almost all eyes fell on them.
Wednesday was used to turning heads, attracting attention everywhere she went. She was peculiar to look at, and she knew that, though she had figured the Nevermore community had been used to seeing her by now. She frowned deeply, making herself over quickly to the abandoned drinks table in an attempt to distract herself from the profound awkwardness which now permeated the room.
She was interrupted by Enid, who for some god forsaken reason had chosen the most volatile normie to be her date, along with Xavier who resumed his attempts to shove his resentment for Tyler Galpin down her throat, his words dripping with disdain and green with envy. Wednesday rolled her eyes at both of them, making her way back to Tyler. He was sitting down and she joined him, putting her feet up on an opposite chair and sitting back casually.
"Was it the thin mountain air or the Yeti-tinis that got to you?" Tyler asked, a tone of irony in his voice.
"Xavier told me what you did last year," she said, shifting uncomfortably in her dress. "How you and your friends assaulted him and destroyed his mural on Outreach Day."
Tyler's eyes shut, a wave of shame overtaking him like a tidal wave. "I guess that was inevitable."
A pause.
"Look," he said, reaching out for her hand. "I... I wish I could say that it was an accident, or that it wasn't half as bad as it sounds, but I'd be lying. And he could have made things a lot worse for me, but he didn't."
She stared at his hand which reached between them "Why'd you do it?"
"I mean, I could give you a million excuses, but... the truth is I'm still trying to figure that out. I got sent away to this boot camp and realized that's not the version of myself I want to be. A bitter townie that blames everyone else for the shitty hand he's been dealt. Look, I did a terrible thing, but I swear I'm not a terrible person."
Wednesday squinted her eyes, leaning into him. "Did you think I was going to judge you over some lousy prank? I would have taken it further."
Tyler smiled, "Like putting piranhas in a swimming pool?"
Her eyebrow shot up slightly, and he realized he had caught her off guard.
He continued anyways. "I may have done a little digging on you after we met."
Her voice showed no embarrassment as she affirmed, "And I'd do it again."
Tyler finally grabbed her hands, interlocking their fingers before pulling her upwards and away from the table so they could approach the dance floor. Once they reached the floor, he pulled her close by the waist, bringing her close to him. He smiled before whispering against her ear. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."
--
Wednesday surprised him by how well she danced, her movements perfectly aligned with the beat of each song. He watched in awe as she swayed, her dress flowing like water, material shining against the fluorescent lighting.
Her motions became more and more odd with each passing song, varying across styles and eras. Tyler had never seen her so carefree, moving her arms in tandem with her legs, similarly to the inflatable tube blowers that flowed in the wind outside of T-Mobile. His cheeks ached from smiling so wide, his expression gleaming as he attempted, poorly, to replicate her movements.
She was a peacock dancing before him, her movements wild though each intentional. Tyler recalled the way his biology teacher had explained the mating rituals of some birds, an extravagant display of artistry to attract a mate. The longer they shook, the more energy they spent fluttering their wings and shimmying their feathers, the better off they were in finding a match.
Tyler doubted Wednesday's intentions were to attract a male, as she moved freely, happily on her own accord, only occasionally engaging Tyler, teasing him with the flutter of her fingers, poking him on his shoulder, in his sides, and staring at him through her thick bangs, her eyes humored, but darkened with something else. He couldn't put his finger on the way she was looking at him, and decided just to live in the moment, enjoying his time with the kooky girl he could not get out of his mind.
The music switched to a slow song, and Wednesday frowned, her perpetual pout deepening. He laughed softly at her reaction, pulling her towards him and resting a hand on her lower back.
"Have you ever slow danced before?" he teased, moving to grab her hand with his free one.
She looked up at him then, annoyed by his question. "My father taught me when I was a young girl. The Waltz, the FoxTrot, the Tango. I mastered each by the time I was 3. I was also a ballerina. My dance training was perfect for teaching me how to hold my own weight, how to move swiftly and silently."
Tyler smiled at her kindly. "I believe it. You're a good dancer."
He doubted those around them might agree, as Wednesday took up an exorbitant amount of space throughout her peacock dance, interrupting couples who were making out, bumping into people minding their business. After a while, people around them just stopped dancing and watched her, not nearly as entranced as he had been, but entertained nevertheless.
Wednesday took his compliment to heart, looking away from him before she did something humiliating, like smile. Instead she surveyed the other couples on the dance floor.
"I don't really understand what everyone else is doing."
Tyler's eyebrow quirked up, "What do you mean? You haven't been trained in the good old awkward sway at school dances before?"
Wednesdays eyes showed her apparent confusion and Tyler chuckled, pulling her closer.
"It's a terrible American tradition," he reassured. "Along with building theme parks devoted to religious zealots, holding hot dog eating contests on Independence Day, and putting all the blame on young people for not voting when we elect white nationalists into public office."
Wednesday nodded to herself as if that made sense, before the DJ announced that the last song of the night was coming up and for every outlier and wallflower to make themselves over to the dance floor.
They were crowded in the middle now, pulling away from each other awkwardly.
Dua Lipa's "Physical" played as Nevermore students and their dates cheered, jumping happily into the air, hugging their friends, soaking up every moment of their treasured youth.
Tyler looked down at Wednesday to find her staring at him, her expression as indecipherable as it had been before.
It wasn't until he was close enough to see his own reflection in her dilated pupils that he realized what it was. Hunger.
She looked ravenous, like a bear recently awoken from Hibernation or a shelter dog deprived from food for weeks on end. It caught him off guard, stumbling as he squared his stance, solidifying his legs on the ground beneath him, hoping that this was not some dream that ended with him floating into space, the entire night just a fantasy in his mind.
The music blared, the crowd roared, and the two just stared at each other in a fight to see who broke first, who would be the first to say something and interrupt the staring contest they had willfully set themselves up for.
In the end, it was Tyler who broke the silence between them, leaning down to speak against her ear so only she could hear him.
"I've never felt like this for someone before."
His hand grazed her arms, not exactly touching her, but making his presence felt.
Wednesday leaned up, her eyes fixed on his soft pink lips, utterly transfixed. She closed the distance between them, the heels of her shoes giving her an extra boost of height. Her mouth met his experimentally, chastely, before she pulled away.
Tyler glanced down at her, shocked by the fact that the gorgeous, brilliant girl before him just kissed him, and on top of that, in public. He reached up to cup her cheek, resting his fingers against her neck before he pulled her back to him, chasing her mouth hungrily. He had assumed that this was Wednesday's first kiss, now second, as he attempted to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to get the angle deeper, trailing his tongue tightly against her bottom lip to ask for entrance. She had denied him, keeping it closed-lipped as she made herself comfortable in his embrace.
When she felt comfortable enough, she experimentally pushed her own tongue against his mouth firmly. Their kiss intensified, Wednesday pulling Tyler closer to her by the lapels of his jacket. They quickly became a teenage stereotype, horny sixteen year olds making out at a school function. But neither of them minded, too distracted by the intensity of their own feelings for each other and the moments that had led up to it.
It was then that Tyler felt the first drip. At first he thought it might be his own sweat, the room getting hotter and hotter, his own body heat rising as Wednesday continued pressing herself against him. But then there was another, then another. It was thick, not like a typical raindrop, and when his thumb caressed Wednesday's cheek, he smeared a drop across her cheek.
When they pulled away, there was a sea of red, scarlet drops falling from the sky like heavy April rain. Tyler's brows furrowed in an attempt to find the source, squinting to glance at the ceiling, where it was apparent the rain was coming directly out of the fire safety smoke showers hanging above them. He looked down to see Wednesday with a smile growing on her face.
"You okay?" he shouted, his voice lost amongst the screams that surrounded them, teenagers and adults alike scrambling to run and save themselves from what appeared to be a blood shower, totally Carrie style.
Wednesday's smile met her ears, her teeth showing briefly as she tilted her face up towards him again, pulling him down by the collar for another kiss. "Shut up," she said roughly against his lips. "Just kiss me."
He obliged, holding her tight as he took his fill. There was no room for screaming, or speaking, or even breathing. The blood rain that fell on them only made their embrace morbidly romantic. He shut his eyes, picturing the two of them outside like two characters out of Singing in the Rain. Wednesday's tongue was greedy, savoring the taste of mint on his mouth as paint trickled its way into the picture.
She angled herself upwards, her front entirely pressed against him. Against her hip, she felt hardness growing beneath the ruined satin of his pants, and she ground herself against it lightly, Tyler's leg moving between her thighs to provide her with purchase.
"Miss Addams," a shrill voice interrupted suddenly, an arm aggressively making its way between the pair. It was Principal Weems, who couldn't have found a less convenient time to make her presence known. "What on Earth do you think you're doing?"
Tyler pulled away from Wednesday quickly, his shoulders hung low with embarrassment, the expression on his face taken back by reality which was quickly setting in.
"You told us to enjoy ourselves," Wednesday said, preparing a justification in her mind for why she was making out and borderline grinding herself up against the Sheriff's son during an obvious community wide crisis. "I didn't realize the blood rain was unintentional. I figured it was part of the dramatized, school dance moment. My mother did say you had quite a theatrical way about you."
"Miss. Addams." Larissa shouted, indignant. "You are telling me that you are not responsible for this? And I am supposed to believe you? Even though you seem to be reveling in what has proven to be a disaster."
"Principal Weems," Wednesday reasoned. "I assure you. If I had done this, I would have gone with real pigs blood. Or any real blood. From any mammal. True Carrie style. Whatever form of paint this might be, by the taste of it I have surmised that is far too cheap for my style. Not to mention far too cliche."
Weems was reeling, overcome with rage, shivering in the cold red water they all were now drenched in.
"Tyler." She directed her attention over to the boy next to Tyler, his lips red from more than just acrylic paint. "Please, call your father and ask him to meet me here immediately."
Tyler nodded quickly, coming to and fishing his phone out of his pocket to call his dad.
Wednesday turned on her heel, finally making her way out the door. It was then that she fell backwards, being caught by Tyler as she saw Eugene, bloodied and screaming in the woods, having investigated the cone shaped hideout they had found in the woods the other day independently. When she came to, her eyes shot open as she fought her way out of Tyler's arms and onto her knees, planting her feet on the ground firmly. Tyler watched her, concerned as she met his gaze. "It's Eugene!" she shouted. "He's in danger!"