Chapter Text
Entry from the journal of Corvus Addams, Volume 9, page 263:
There has been an update in the circumstances surrounding the Sinclair family and it has left me utterly consumed by rage . It has been a week since receiving correspondence from the young member of their pack, and her mother has dared to write a letter of her own as a follow up with horrendous implications and a jovial tone. I would put it to words, but every attempt has left my hands trembling and fury like a bonfire in my throat. I’ve attempted to write down my thoughts three separate times now but tore out each page because I could not make my own penmanship legible to even the most skilled of elementary school teachers.
I refuse to respond to her, it would not fit an Addams to deign to lower myself to her level.
For the time being, I will remain silent as a lamb. But that is only because I want this to go well for Enid’s sake, the poor pup has enough on her mind to fret over. If the old bitch dares to utter her “suggestions” to the family I will do nothing to protect Enid. In fact, I’ll more than likely join in on Gomez’s probable attempts to dismember her mother for the insinuation that an Addams would be eager to commit Pedicide.
Damn the packs and their toxicity. If I could I would go back in time and prevent the moronic idea of alphas and betas from spreading, even if they claim to have dropped the practice now. Esther Sinclair is a snake of the most vile temper. Ever since then the packs have all become intolerable aside from the rare exception.
I need a drink
_________________
She should curse Corvus for not warning her that the other family would have enchanted furniture akin to their own. She could curse herself for not assuming such a thing as well. Wednesday had no way of preparing herself for the walking beam of moonlight that was Enid as she had stepped out of the truck, nor to prepare for the way that might affect her strategy. The goal was to take center stage, not play as a support character to the Heroine. The snug cream sweater along with her pale skin almost made Enid glow in the darkness of the night, even after coming inside the small gold fibers glimmered against the candle light. She’d only done sharp eyeliner and a light nude lipstick for makeup, and the natural gravity was pulling Wednesday in fast.
When they’d first entered the house she couldn’t even take her eyes off of the brilliant platinum hair as it swayed and bobbed as Enid walked. Her blue eyes had been so wide with awe that it was almost…cute? What in Dante’s Nine Hells is happening to me?
“Alright, everyone! Take a seat! I didn’t spend all day torturing my wrists in the kitchen just for this to go cold on us!” Corvus called over the din of chatter. Everyone began to move towards the table and take their seats, the Addams’ taking one side and the Sinclair’s on the other, with Corvus sat at the head near the tall windows, the stem of a perfectly clear crystal wine glass pinched between his skeletal fingers. The conversations continued, Enid had been regaling Wednesday with tales of misadventure and strange secret society parties from her days at Nevermore for a while now and fell silent as they sat across from each other near the end of the table.
“Soooo, where did you go to school?” The blonde asked.
“I attended a total of 13 schools before graduation, each of them has passed from my memory for the most part, after an incident with a pool and a bag of piranhas I found myself locked in a mental ward until my Uncle Fester aided in my escape.” A basket of soft rolls was being passed around the table, and her father stood to dish out large chunks of roast to each plate, aside from Wednesday’s own.
“That’s cool I guess, ever make any friends?” Enid’s tone was hopeful, but Wednesday simply scoffed and rolled her eyes a bit.
“Friends are a liability and a weakness, I have no weaknesses.”
“That’s actually like one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard before. A werewolf friend wouldn’t be a weakness though, would it?” Enid grinned. The raven thought about that for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of the statement, before she relented with a nod.
“I suppose not, so long as they could protect themselves.”
“No need to worry about that,” she cooed as her colorful nails stretched into long and wicked claws. The wolf lifted one like a needle and used it to skewer a roll from the basket with a wink. “I haven’t been in too many fights, but I’ve never even been scratched.” The pride was evident in her smirk.
“A shame really, scars can be quite enticing,” Wednesday muttered and mirrored her expression. A blush painted the other woman’s ears, but she said nothing more as she began to dig into the portion of roast and mashed potatoes on her plate.
Meat was not Wednesday’s first choice for sustenance, it left her feeling greasy and her mind addled, so she had taken nothing more from the table than the honeyed carrots and salad. She’d have to discuss vegetarian options with Corvus later, she’d forgotten to mention it to him before now. An oversight caused by her time spent focusing on the library and her own scheming in their short time on the reserve.
Most of the talking had died down by this point, to her pleasure, as the group seemed to become enveloped by the meal. Compliments of all nature poured forth for Corvus’ skill in the kitchen, most from Enid herself about how ‘stupid good’ it was.
The wine decanter continued to float overhead as it filled each glass before it settled next to Corvus with a dull thud. He spoke in a hushed voice with her father, who sat at his right hand, and both of them snickered at something with devilish smiles. Esther and her mother now had a tense silence nestled between them, and she noticed as the tall Addams’ dark eyes settled on the eldest wolf with a sickeningly sweet smile. Pubert and Pugsley were too busy playing the knife game with Thing laid flat on the tablecloth to eat. Both of the Sinclair men ate like they’d been starved for weeks, Murray using his napkin to remove the gravy from his beard as he addressed a question Corvus pointed his way.
“Wednesday darling, how’s your book coming along?” Morticia asks down the table with a coy smile.
“Well as ever mother, though I admit to having frustrations at my lack of inspiration lately.” Wednesday stabbed a cherry tomato with her steak knife and popped into her mouth, savoring the sweet juice as it coated the back of her tongue.
“Oooo, what kind of book is it?” Enid asks eagerly, bouncing in her seat a few times.
“It’s a mystery series I’ve spent a great deal of time on. But no publicist will take it without some form of ‘normal’ interaction. Traveling to meet with them when we can effectively communicate using letters seems preposterous to me.”
“If it’s inspiration you need, you should look into the journals of Arthur Addams, he was alive during the time that Jack the Ripper prowled the streets of London and was obsessed with finding the man,” Corvus offered through a mouthful of potato. “His illustrations look a bit rough, but his deductive skills were unmatched at the time and his dictation is clear and concise as a eulogy.” He finished while cutting his fork through the air with a flourish.
“I’ll have to look into it, thank you.”
Before much longer everyone sat back with full stomachs as the wine poured faster and her father broke out a bottle of Glenmorangie whiskey from beneath the table, pouring it into glasses that the keeper floated over from the bar with a simple wave as a sickly green rune appeared.
“So I know it’s a normal thing for like, more magical groups, but what does a Keeper do?” Enid poses. All eyes fall on the man at the head of the table as he takes a sip of wine and sets it down with a breath and a somber smile.
“It’s more complicated than we tend to like talking about, so I’ll just give a sort of brief synopsis. Keepers do as their name implies, we keep and guard the knowledge of the people we have sworn ourselves to. Some of us work for factions or guilds, many hide themselves within universities, but most stick to their family,” he smiles and nods to Gomez and Morticia, “in a family of psychics and witches, I find myself surrounded with all manner of dangerous material and secrets.”
“They also all live like insanely long,” Pugsley added, a small glass of whiskey held up to the chandelier.
“That we do, for a myriad of reasons,” Corvus wiggles his hand a bit. “My life is prolonged by feeding off the energy of decay, an ability I inherited from my father and his family.”
“Family is so important, isn’t it?” Esther interrupted with a wide smile. His head never shifted her way, but Wednesday could feel his attention sharpen and focus on her as he gripped the stem of the wine glass. Enid shifted in her own seat as well and stared at the table as she picked at her nails and said nothing. A breeze blew through the room on phantom wings and set the chandelier to spinning slowly while the candles flames flickered and waved. An Addams always looked half-dead, but her cousin’s face had gone from pale and gaunt to downright gray and skeletal as he turned to Enid’s mother.
“Indeed. They are the most important thing in my life, each and every one in their unique way,” at this he stared through the woman, “surely a mother would agree?”
Wednesday could almost taste the fear in her eyes, it was delectable.
“Of course,” her voice just above a whisper, still smiling. And just like that the strange spell that had overtaken Corvus vanished as he smiled and clapped his hands together.
“Excellent! I hope you all saved room for dessert, I made a lemon tart with lavender whipped cream on top! Hopefully you all enjoy it as much as I do!”
___________
After everyone had finished eating, and their parents agreed to a quick meeting in the conference room, Enid had started feeling a bit restless. Sitting and doing nothing inside had been killing her for the last hour and she couldn’t take it much longer, so she’d decided to go outside to admire the glowing garden just beyond the windows. The cold autumn wind nipped at her face and hands as she knelt down to a section of beautiful pink flowers that shimmered with tiny red pin pricks along the petals. Her nose might not be as strong as most werewolves because she still hadn’t shifted, but it was much stronger than a regular person’s, and the scent of moonlight and clear water swam through her mind.
“I would prefer they were black dahlias instead, but to each their own I suppose,” Wednesday’s voice cut through the quiet of the night. She stood just behind Enid by about five feet, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her slacks as far as they could go.
“Did you follow me out here?” she giggled with a questioning eye.
“Perhaps. You’re intriguing to me, you seem to be less confused about why we’re here than everyone other than my cousin,” Wednesday offered her hand, and Enid took it before standing up and dusting off her knees as they walked down the line of plants, the blonde kicked her feet up in front of her with each step.
“Well, you’re interesting to me too,” she admitted with a small blush, “every time you look at me for too long it feels like my brain gets dipped in ice water.”
“Shocking yet pleasant?”
“Bingo,” Enid smiled over her shoulder.
“I’m afraid that may be due to my gifts as a psychic. I am not particularly…skilled at social obligations.” Enid stopped at the end of the garden to sit on a stone bench that faced the small lake before them, and Wednesday took a seat next to her, their shoulders only a breath away from brushing one another.
“So you can read people’s minds?” the blonde woman asks with her eyes blown wide.
“Not yet, or at least not effectively. What I do is more like skimming the page of a book that allows me some insight as to what the person I’m reading is feeling. I get impressions such as anger, sorrow, dread, or disgust, but no actual thoughts, to my own disappointment.”
“So like…psychic emojis?” she smiled.
“Refer to my reading like that again and I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.”
The young wolf grinned wider at that and bumped her leg into Wednesday’s. The two of them sat silently with their shoulders brushing with each breath as they stared out at the water while it reflected the sliver of moonlight. Enid crossed her arms against the chill wind and rubbed her shoulders for a little warmth, looking up at the night sky.
“Can you tell what I’m feeling right now?” she asked as she glanced at the goth. Wednesday’s eyes went blank for a moment again as she looked back at her, the same cold feeling pressing against Enid’s mind, then stared at the water.
“You’re anxious, and uncomfortable. If you wish I can leave you to your thoughts,” before Enid could even say anything the short woman had started to stand. She reached out and placed a hand on the dark fabric of the psychic’s arm before she could make her exit.
“No, it’s not you I promise,” Enid sighed. “Anxiety is just the beginning of this stupid mess.”
“To what do you refer?” Wednesday sat down again, her face turned towards Enid and open in a strange way. Enid didn’t have many friends like Wednesday, the closest she could compare her to was Bianca but that didn’t even come close to the myriad of micro expressions that the raven seemed to display.
Enid is frozen to the spot for a minute before her breathing exercises allow her shoulders to relax. What would the heiress think if she came clean? Would she judge her as too weak to be a friend after all? There’s no way Wednesday would laugh in her face like her pack did, right?
“Can I tell you something, and have you promise not to mention it to the rest of your family until I do?” The young werewolf chewed her lip even as she asked, tension rolling through her frame.
“Of course, my Uncle Fester has confessed a litany of crimes to me over the years. This shouldn’t be any more difficult than that.”
“Okay…so,” here we go, “I’m not exactly a full on werewolf yet.” Enid’s hands return to picking at her nails.
“I’m going to need more than that, I’m afraid,” Wednesday looks at her with confusion written all over her face, at least to Enid it seemed that way. The goths features never seemed to move much beyond the default concrete stillness.
“I’ve never shifted into my wolf before. Most pups do it for the first time when they’re like 13 or 14, but the genetic lottery skipped me I guess,” she held out a hand in front of them to extend the claws again and took a swipe at the empty air before she smiled nice and wide to show off her elongated canines. “That’s all I’ve got.”
A look of understanding crossed Wednesday’s eyebrows as they knit together and she worried her bottom lip. Enid sat in the quiet and waited for her to say something back as another cold gust made her shiver.
“You were the one who wrote to Corvus then.”
“Yup, and now we’re all here in the middle of absolutely nowhere because the longer it takes, the smaller my chance gets.” Enid sighed and crossed her ankles out in front of them.
“If it makes you feel any better, my own gift causes me to have minor seizures if I touch the wrong thing. It’s an inconvenience I’ll be living with until they finally put me in the ground.”
“I’m sorry, what?” They both look at each other again and Enid honestly couldn’t tell what she had meant by that.
“Psychics are prone to visions,” Wednesday breathes, “at times I can glimpse the past or future, but due to my negative disposition to the world they come on violently and without warning.”
“And give you seizures?” Enid clarified.
“The more intense one’s do, yes. When they began it was a battle to convince my parents to not take me to the hospital every time I touched the older relics or artifacts we keep at home.”
“Wow, okay then. That actually makes me feel a little bit better,” she huffed out.
“Still, that does not explain your discomfort.”
“It’s just cold out, that’s all. I’m from California and this pup was made for warm weather.” She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself and drew her legs up to her chest.
“I thought werewolves had a naturally high body temperature?” Wednesday asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Only after, well, you know.” Enid glared at the grass.
“I see. Well, the cold doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Here,” she took off the black blazer and placed it around the blonde’s shoulders with a gentle touch, it fit her like a glove, “I wouldn’t want to be a rude host and allow you to become sick.”
The jacket smelled like spearmint and mixed with the vanilla she was covered in herself. The extra layer helped, but the blush plastered across her ears and face also warmed her as she mumbled a thanks and pulled the lapels tight around her frame. The odd pair sat together and appreciated all the sounds the night had to offer, somewhere in the distance Enid heard the rustling of branches and quiet calls of the nocturnal creatures she’d been warned about.
“I’ll help you.” Wednesday didn’t even breathe or blink, but her voice carried into the dark.
“What?”
“I will help you find the solution to whatever is stopping you from ‘shifting,’ as you put it. For the moment I’ll remain quiet, but I suspect your mother has some other motive for being here other than helping you.” Enid shifted on the bench and tilted her head.
“Why do you think that?”
“She’s wearing some kind of ward, it blocks my abilities and more than likely my mother’s as well. And Corvus has been nothing but jovial since we arrived, the mood change during dinner tells me something else is going on.”
“Oh my god, of course she is,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “we’ll burn that bridge when we cross it.”
“A fine turn of phrase,” Wednesday relented with a small turn of the corner of her lips. “I won’t be doing it for free, of course. There’s not many werewolves in the Addams family tree, so I’ll need some more private information from you about pack life and the like for documentation later on.”
“Easy enough I guess,” Enid shrugged. Wednesday stood from the bench with all the grace of a cat, looking at her over the pale shoulder that was now bared to the freezing wind.
“Do we have a deal then?” The blonde popped up to her feet and took a deep breath, then held out her hand.
“Deal, just you and me, Willa.” Wednesday reached out and grabbed the hand in her own, avoiding the brightly painted nails.
“You and I,” she corrected.
“Close enough,” the smile Enid was shooting her was bright like the sun and almost blinded Wednesday, but her dark eyes never left the pooling ocean of Enid’s own.
___________
Not too long after their little bargain had been struck, all of the elder members of each family exited the conference room with pleased smiles, except for Corvus, who appeared to be doing an impression of Wednesday’s own stoic expression. Her father continued to spin whatever web of a story he’d been telling to Malachi, who nodded and grunted to confirm that he was still listening even as he pulled at the collar and tie of his pressed navy suit.
Thing had orders to listen in on the conversation had in the conference room and relate any key details later tonight, so she didn’t need to ask her parents what was discussed. Everyone stood and walked the Sinclair’s to the truck outside in a large huddle, with Pubert held high and tucked into their mother’s hip as she followed near the back.
Once the majority of goodbye’s were said, she was left standing in front of Enid with no clue what to say, and on instinct reached for her psychic power to read the blonde. The moment the raven’s eyes were beginning to cloud, and the cold feeling returned to her mind, Enid held a finger up with a small smirk, waggling it in her face.
“Uh uh, no cheating on this one.”
“It’s not cheating, it’s an advantage. That would be like asking you not to use your claws to win a fight,” her eyebrows were knit together like a sweater, both offended at the insinuation she needed to cheat and that the girl had read her so easily.
“But this isn’t a fight. Just…tell me the first thing that comes to your head!” Enid’s eyes were bright as she took a small step closer to Wednesday, he hands brushing over the jacket that now covered her shoulders.
“I…I suppose…enjoyed speaking with you tonight,” she tried. The words coming out of her mouth felt strange when arranged like that, but something in her chest slackened as she nodded after a moment. Enid grinned like a devil and pulled her dark jacket off, extending back to Wednesday.
“I had a better time than I thought I would because of you, thanks for letting me borrow this.” Those cerulean eyes stared at the jacket for a second, and with a huff she pushed it an inch closer to the goth.
Wednesday considered for a second, and then pushed the dark coat back. This is about enjoying myself, isn’t it?
“Keep it, I doubt the wardrobe will care much. We wouldn’t want you to catch death from the cold, would we?” And, for the first time in near a decade and a half, Wednesday blinked at her. The pale skin around Enid’s neck and ears turned crimson as her breath caught in her throat.
“Y-yeah, you’re totally right. So don’t want to die from the cold, yeah. Thanks, um, thank you. See you tomorrow?” She was speaking like an auctioneer, her eyes shooting all over the place. Wednesday smiled at that, it was good to know her father’s charm hadn’t totally skipped over her.
“Tomorrow it is.”
“Cool, um bye,” Enid squeaked as she jumped into the cabin.
____________
As the truck roared to life, Enid and her family rolled down the driveway and back to the old house with the headlights cutting through the darkness in front of them in tight circles. She could almost feel the anxiety waving off of her mom, but both her dad and Malachi looked full, happy, and almost excited. Things were looking up, for her at the very least.
A gentle smile crossed her face as she lifted the jacket up to her nose, and the mint and vanilla filled her head with a warm giddiness.
__________
Wednesday waited for half of an hour before she went into Corvus’s room, which she felt was appropriate given the circumstances. She did not want to catch her cousin without having time for him to wind down from the dinner before she questioned him. The heavy wooden door creaked as she opened it, Thing following close on her heels, and the keeper was sat at his desk with a glorious black fountain pen in one hand and a strange cigarette that smelled of moss in the other.
“Enid told me her side, but you are going to explain why you distrust Esther Sinclair to me now.” Her voice was just above a whisper, but she put the authority of her standing in the family behind every word.
“Ohhhh lovely,” He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his hands over his eyes, taking a long drag from the cigarette clasped between two fingers. “Where do you want me to start?”