Chapter Text
Inconclusive.
She’d seen the word in bold black ink on the report from the lab where she’d been taken for her blood draw. The one that all children were required to have after their thirteenth birthday. Especially since they were Outcasts. Ever since her parents had been younger the government had decided to become involved in the personal lives of their citizens even more closely than before. When the numbers of Omegas and Alphas began to rise in the 70s and 80s. When the Normies felt threatened by the influx of ‘other’ that threatened the status quo. There had been other attempts throughout history to contain Outcasts and their strange biology but ultimately those attempts had been unsuccessful. This was discrimination but they were in no position as a society to fight back with any real numbers. Normies still outnumbered Outcasts. It was a way to catalogue them and in doing so control them. But Wednesday had no choice in the matter despite her parents' reservations about the entire ordeal.
Her own mother, an Omega, and her Alpha father could only produce more of the same but when she’d read that line Wednesday had felt something perilously close to joy. Not the same sort of delight she’d gotten from digging graves, or waterboarding her brother, or any other manner of macabre and near fiendish pastimes but close enough. Her parents had been confused but supportive and ultimately unbothered by the unexpected development.
Inconclusive was a puzzle of its own. Her hormone levels were elevated just past the threshold for Beta but not to the levels that a normal healthy young Omega should have been past puberty.
The next year was more of the same. The Normies determined to put her into a classification but were unable to. When she’d tested Inconclusive for the third year in a row at the age of fifteen she’d been thrown the classification of Beta to Wednesday’s delight.
To be spared the Heats that her mother loved. The idea that she’d need physical touch. That she’d crave it was abhorrent to her. Any touch for that matter. Even from her family. She tolerated the clinical way doctors would examine her for physicals and the free affection of her father and the calm way her mother would guide her by the shoulders but she hated it. The idea that she would need someone to have their hands on her naked skin for days was intolerable.
Not to mention the toxic mentality that accompanied those with the designations of Alpha and Omega. Omegas were supposed to be calm, quiet, gentle according to everything she’d ever read on the matter but her mother wasn’t just those things. Morticia had tried to talk to her daughter more about how a designation doesn’t change who one is on the inside. It does not make a gentle man violent, nor does it make a self assured woman into a doormat to be walked all over. Merely being an Omega does not make one submissive nor does being an Alpha make one assertive and dominant. But she’d seen the opposite throughout her studies of the condition and other children whose parents had similar designations. Her father and mother were the anomaly, not the standard. Morticia Addams was the leader of the household. Calm. Confident. Nurturing. Maternal. All things that she couldn’t fathom being. Would never be.
She’d reveled in the freedom that the lack of a secondary designation gave her.
Until Nevermore.
Until a malfunctioning espresso machine and the boy with sandy brown curls and green-blue eyes who’d changed everything.