Chapter Text
Oh, fuck. Not again.
Wednesday heard it before she saw it — the growls, the scratches.
A familiar growl, to be exact. One she’d recognized ever since that expedition up in the frozen Canadian wilderness. Back then, she’d found it impressive — endearing, even.
Now, standing in Nevermore’s yard, surrounded by students returning for the new semester, Wednesday knew that same growl meant trouble.
Trouble coming from a very specific blonde wolf, to be exact.
She started marching toward the commotion, Thing perched on her shoulder.
There she was — in the middle of the mayhem. Enid had attacked another Fur, once again for trivial reasons.
The unlucky jock lay flat on the ground, Enid crouched above him, fangs and claws bared.
The other Furs had gathered around, watching from a safe distance as the fight wound down — Enid, once again, emerging victorious.
“Enid,” Wednesday said, voice measured and precise. “That’s enough. Stop. You’ve won.”
Enid’s breathing was ragged, her eyes yellowed, her chest rumbling.
She slowly rose, sensing Wednesday’s presence — it always calmed her, no matter what.
As she stood and turned, the surrounding Furs took a collective step back.
“What are you all looking at, huh? You want what he got? Leave!”
They scattered like scared pups.
Wednesday approached.
The boy was still on the ground, frozen in fear.
She stood over him, one eyebrow arched, assessing.
“Did you not hear her? Or do you want a round two? In which case, perhaps I should fetch popcorn — I always enjoy a proper bloodbath unfolding in front of me.”
At Wednesday’s even, unimpressed tone, the boy finally came to his senses, scrambled up, and bolted.
Wednesday turned to Enid.
“What was it this time?”
Enid’s breathing slowed. Her eyes darted around, guilt written all over her face — she couldn’t bring herself to meet Wednesday’s gaze.
“I… I don’t know. He wanted to sit in my seat and I… got mad. He insisted, said it wasn’t a big deal, and I just… couldn’t help it. Again, I—”
Without finishing, Enid turned and hurried away, practically running to avoid Wednesday’s judgmental stare.
“Miss Addams, a word, if you may?”
The cold voice was familiar, yet not quite. The new principal — Chris Sanchez — a quiet, serious man, short and stout, with a white goatee covering the lower half of his face.
Wednesday didn’t need to ask what this was about. She already knew. For the last month — since the semester began — she’d known exactly what every one of these conversations was about.
Inside his office, Principal Sanchez gestured for her to sit before taking his own seat behind the heavy desk.
“Miss Addams, I believe you’re aware of what we’re about to discuss. This is the fifth occurrence in the past month — the fifth time I’ve had to address another assault by Miss Sinclair. Again, nothing catastrophic happened, thanks to your timely intervention. But, let me be clear, this situation is getting out of hand. If Miss Sinclair cannot coexist here after her… unfortunate experience, I must—”
“Principal Sanchez,” Wednesday interrupted smoothly, “we’ve had this conversation before, and we both know how it ends. Miss Sinclair endured a deeply traumatic experience last summer — in her valiant effort to save my life, sacrificing her own well-being in the process. She simply needs time and space to heal. And despite these brief… outbursts, she poses no real threat to this school — to students or faculty.”
“Miss Addams, the recent events—”
“—only reinforce my point,” she cut in. “Miss Sinclair is doing her best to re-acclimate, and aside from a few exceptions, she’s doing fine. This institution prides itself on being open and inclusive toward all outcasts — even the more challenging ones. That’s its purpose, its identity. It’s also the very reason my parents provided your recent grant in my name — the same grant that allowed this school to reopen and welcome back its students after last year’s… events. The renovations are still ongoing, yes? It would be a shame if that grant were suddenly… retracted, leaving you to search for new donors while the entire north wing remains in pieces.”
Wednesday knew exactly when to play her card. And she knew that this particular card was the only reason Enid hadn’t been expelled yet.
“Doing fine” wasn’t remotely accurate. Enid had become volatile, brooding — spending days in bed or running through the surrounding forest all night, lost in her own head.
This was all performance. Both Wednesday and Principal Sanchez knew their roles by now — her veiled blackmail, his reluctant compliance — the same play, every time.
But this time, the principal folded his hands over his clawfoot desk, leaning forward.
“Miss Addams, I am fully aware of your family’s… considerable contributions, and I respect them. However, I’ll warn you — and this time, I mean it. If there’s one more incident where Miss Sinclair’s impulses get the better of her, I will expel her. We cannot risk students being hurt — or worse. That is my final word on the matter, grant or no grant. You are excused.”
Wednesday stood. She didn’t bother to reply or look back — simply turned on her heel and left the office.
*
The familiar dorm at Ophelia Hall had lost something of its usual comfort.
Wednesday walked in, her eyes immediately searching for Enid. As always in moments like this, she was out on the balcony, staring at the sunset.
Wednesday stepped outside and approached her carefully from behind, making her presence known.
Enid was different.
That wasn’t a new discovery, of course — everyone had noticed it the moment she set foot back on campus.
The moment Wednesday found her that day, Enid had transformed back into her human form.
At the time, the Seer had thought that was the hard part.
In the name of Dante’s Inferno — how wrong she’d been.
Enid had become more aggressive. She barely spoke. That shiny, extroverted energy that once made her one of the most popular students at Nevermore was gone. Now, she moved quietly — well, quietly until someone made the grave mistake of getting in her way.
Then the problems began.
Enid would snap, become aggressive — violent, even. The other Furs had quickly acknowledged her status as an Alpha, submitting to her rule. All except a few idiotic male Betas trying to prove something in front of the girls. It always ended badly for them — humiliatingly so. Wednesday secretly enjoyed it.
But time was running out.
She had to find a way to help Enid — to make her talk. That had become its own problem. The once-bubbly wolf refused to speak unless directly prompted, or even challenged.
The few therapy sessions with the school counselor had been useless. Enid kept everything locked inside, insisting she was fine.
Fine.
That word again.
They’d used it so many times, it had lost all meaning.
The moment she stepped onto the balcony, she opened her mouth to speak—but then:
“I should leave.”
Wednesday froze, her eyes narrowing on Enid’s back.
“What?”
“I should… I should go, Wednesday. This is useless. I know what you’re doing—how you protect me while Principal Sanchez wants me gone. But you won’t be able to do this all year. And he’s right. I… I don’t fit here anymore. Not after everything.”
“That is an absolutely ludicrous thing to say, Enid. You are a vital part of this establishment’s student population, and you have earned your place here—leaving your mark on Nevermore’s social life.”
Enid said nothing. Again, silence.
Then she turned around.
“I’mma go for a run. Need to clear my head. Don’t wait up for me.”
And with that, she was gone.
Wednesday knew about these ‘runs.’
Enid would disappear for the night, roaming the forest beyond the school grounds until dawn.
Then she’d crawl back into bed, sleeping until noon—missing classes entirely.
Wednesday stood there, thinking.
Thing appeared, climbing onto the balcony railing.
“She needs help,” he tapped.
Wednesday rolled her eyes.
“Thank you for stating the obvious. Ever the fountain of wisdom,” she replied dryly.
“Snapping at me won’t solve anything. She needs to talk—to let it all out. She needs you.”
“She has me. That was never in question.”
“No. You keep your distance. Because you’re afraid too.”
Wednesday looked away, suddenly feeling miserable. Thing was right.
She hadn’t truly tried to talk to Enid. Not really.
Because she was afraid.
Afraid of what the blonde had become. Because of her. Because of her recklessness. Because, once again, Enid had no choice but to chase after her—and save her.
Guilt was not an emotion Wednesday was accustomed to. Yet now, it was all she could feel.
She’d kept her distance—detached, clinical—avoiding real conversation. Because a real conversation meant facing the consequences of her actions.
Whatever Enid had become… was because of her.
But this could not go on like this.
Something had to be done.
Fast.
*
“What’s with all the secrecy, Addams? We have class in like five minutes, and you know the Nightshades only gather if I say so. Also — what is she doing here?”
Bianca sounded exactly as annoyed as she looked. This happened whenever Wednesday tried to bypass her; the way she pointed dismissively at Agnes made Wednesday want to stab her gleaming, washed-out eyes. But she kept her composure. For Enid.
“Yeah, uh, not that I want to attend Herbology right now, but I think we finally don’t have many things to worry about, right? No Hydes, no crazy principals… you know, just, uh, normal school stuff,” Ajax piped in, confused.
Wednesday ignored them both. She’d ordered Thing to call the meeting on her behalf — but only for Bianca, Ajax, and Agnes.
“I am aware this is inconvenient, and I do not wish to distract you from your daily routine,” she began. “However, developments regarding Enid’s wellbeing have forced me to seek your help and support.”
At that, the room shifted.
“Shit… she’s not doing okay, is she?” Ajax asked, concern in his voice.
Bianca scoffed. “Yeah, of course she isn’t. Girl looks like she’s been held hostage by terrorists.”
“We will do anything for her, Wednesday,” Agnes said, firmly.
Wednesday nodded slowly. Loyalty was common to this group — a useful trait.
“I’m glad you want to help. However, I’m afraid that right now the only effective intervention will start with me talking to her. She needs to be confronted about what happened. She needs to let it out. But she won’t come to our dorm to talk. We need to—find a way to bring her to me where leaving isn’t an option.”
They all looked at her, suspicious.
“Do not fret — I don’t have anything vile in mind.”
“Yeah, with you even saying ‘good morning’ could hide something vile,” Bianca said, half-teasing.
“Hey, this is Enid we’re talking about,” Ajax cut in, earnest. “Of course we’ll do anything for her, as long as it’s… safe. Right, Wednesday?”
“Of course. Nothing bad will happen to Enid. That is non-negotiable. I simply need to lure her to a place where fleeing isn’t possible. That’s where you come in.”
“Ajax — you keep Enid distracted all day. I don’t care if she tries to shove you away, growl at you, show you her fangs, or bite you; you stay at her side and talk endlessly about any trivial thing you can scrounge up. Keep her engaged so she can’t think about my whereabouts.
Bianca — you come in after the last class and barge in. Say exactly what I tell you to say.
Agnes — I need you to show me Lago Tower. Every opening, every small space, every object that could be dangerous; show me everything. You were there when Enid was trapped with Bruno, so you know its weak points. I need every detail to prepare the room.”
They absorbed her plan, the three of them exchanging looks that shifted from skepticism to determination.
*
Ajax kept his word. Despite not being romantically involved anymore, he cared deeply for Enid, seeing her in a tender way even if it was only as a friend. He wanted the best for her no matter what.
So, the next morning, he started following Enid around, babbling unstoppably, about classes, projects, clubs and paper-related questions.
By the end of fourth term, Enid had enough. He turned around abruptly and almost shoved Ajax onto the main gate.
“Will you stop following me around like a cub, Ajax? What am I, your counselor or something? If you can’t handle this year’s objectives, just turn every tutor into stone and be done with it!”
Ajax was grateful that this was the most aggressive Enid had gone with him. Thankfully, the wolf still had a soft spot for him. He, however, kept playing his part. He was doing it for a good reason, he knew.
“Ohh, yeah, turn them into stone, huh, nice one Enid!” He said, voice a tad too high. “You know, this reminds me of this one time my uncle accidentally stoned himself at a family table, funny story actually-”
He kept pacing beside her, unfazed by her growls and yellowish eyes, that were piercing him menacingly the whole time.
After the last class, once all students were dismissed for the day, Enid shot up from her seat, heading for the exit, hoping that Ajax would finally leave her the fuck alone. She honestly didn’t have a moment alone today and-
“Enid! Ajax!”
Bianca stormed in, jumping in front of them.
Enid simply looked at her, while Ajax immediately asked:
“Bianca! What’s going on?”
The siren took a breath to seemingly straighten herself.
“T-Tyler. He’s back. He came here, I saw him and…he has Wednesday. He caught her.”
At that, Enid stopped dead on her tracks. She turned to Bianca, eyes wild, breath hitching.
“What!? No. No. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. This is fucking impossible. Where is he? Where does he have her?!”
Bianca took a breath, then, spoke:
“Lago Tower.”
Both Ajax and Bianca had to sprint to try and keep up with Enid, the wolf running toward Lago Tower, claws already out.
*
Lago Tower rose like a broken fang above the Nevermore woods — a relic from an age that had long forgotten it. Its black stone was streaked with moss and rain; each window a hollow eye staring into the fog. Inside, the walls were carved with half-human, half-beast figures — grim reminders of the tower’s old purpose: confinement and transformation. The higher you climbed, the colder it got, until the wind howled through the cracks like a living thing. At the very top, beneath shattered rafters, a circular chamber sat beneath a single stained-glass window. When the moon passed through, the room glowed red and violet — like a bruise.
Enid reached the top within minutes, Ajax and Bianca breathless behind her.
“Wednesday?! Where are you?”
Her voice scrambled across the stone. She sniffed the air. “She—she’s here. I can smell her—”
“Hello, Enid.”
Enid spun.
There stood the Seer in her school uniform, calm and collected as ever.
“W-Wednesday! Where is he? What did he do to you? I’ll fucking rip his throat out this time, I—”
“It’s okay, Enid. Don’t be afraid.”
Another voice, smaller, familiar.
Agnes materialized beside the heavy iron door; Ajax and Bianca slid into place to block the exit.
Enid stared at them, bewildered. “What is this? What the fuck is going on? Where is Tyler?”
“There is no Tyler, Enid. Only you and I,” came Wednesday’s even reply. “I asked them to help me… talk to you. I’m sorry, but there was no other way.”
Suddenly Enid noticed the three other students moving back. In one furious motion, the heavy iron door slammed shut — leaving her alone with Wednesday at the top of the tower.
“What the—Hey! Heeeey! Open up! Open the fuck up!”
She began battering the door, claws out; her new alpha strength made the walls around the door tremble.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Enid.”
“Shut up! Let me out! Let me the fuck out, I’ll tear this place to pieces, I swear! Let me out, now!!!”
Enid was completely berserk; her mouth foamed at the edges. She smashed the door again, then whirled toward the window. She took a good look at it; it was bound in chains.
“Chains made out of silver,” Wednesday said calmly. “If you do not wish your hands to melt before your eyes, I suggest you do not touch them.”
Enid literally screamed, a deep growl vibrating from her chest, her voice bouncing off the cold stone walls. Then she fell to her knees, utterly spent, gasping for air, defeated.
Wednesday approached slowly, lowering herself to her own knees, eyes never leaving Enid. The wolf pressed her face into her hands, fingers clutching at her hair, nails digging in, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.
“Please, Wednesday…” she mumbled between sobs. “Please, just…let me go. I just want to disappear. I just want all of this to stop, I… I can’t do this anymore. Please.”
Tears streamed freely now, soaking her hands and dripping onto the floor.
Wednesday’s eyes softened, the usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal genuine concern.
“I do not wish for you to suffer, Enid. I never have. But,” she paused, her voice steady yet gentle, “in order to find yourself again, you must go through this ordeal, and I must witness it. You need to talk, Enid. Let it all out. Hate me if you must—for what I caused—but I will remain here. I will stay, even if you curse me, bite me, scratch me. I am not leaving. Not until you speak. It is the least I can do to make amends…for saving my life, once again.”
With those words, Wednesday leaned in closer. Within moments, Enid was sobbing uncontrollably into her arms, her body limp and heavy against her.
They would get through this—just as they always had.
Together.