Work Text:
Exiting the hearse, Wednesday took a deep breath of the air surrounding her home. The calm that had eluded her for the last several days had finally settled around the raven. The girl felt the chaotic jitters from behind the House’s doors, where her parents had been anxiously waiting for her return.
Wednesday thanked Lurch for bringing her home with a silent but weighted nod, receiving a soothing groan in return. She walked up the stairs, stepping through the welcomingly opened doors by the House and straight into her parents’ arms.
Wednesday melted into their embrace, closing her eyes as Gomez and Morticia drew her in deeper.
She was home. She was safe.
~ AF ~
The one well-known piece of information about the seers was that the doves received positive and good premonitions, whereas the ravens saw the negative and gloomy ones. Utter bullshit, forgive Morticia her bluntness. Both types of seers could receive any kind of visions – it depended on the disposition of each particular person as to what they might be seeing more often.
Morticia prided herself on being a dove and was glad to almost always see the best events of her life, or the most favorable outcomes of things that interested her. Finding out that her, their, darling Wednesday was a raven was a perplexing surprise to Morticia – while Ness loved the family’s signature dark colors and eagerly accepted the macabre from the moment she could consciously react to the world around her, the girl was always surrounded by their love and returned that love in spades in her own particular ways.
When Wednesday lost Nero, Morticia watched her become more guarded and, at the same time, more fiercely protective of all of them, particularly her younger brother. A couple of years after the children entered public schooling, the expulsions followed one after the other: while the reasons for the retaliations were sound, the methods she used to deal with the bullies to avenge her brother were pure Addams.
It made Morticia and Gomez proud, but no normie system could accept their fierce viper in their midst after the piranha stunt.
That left only Nevermore as their last valid and, most importantly, safest option. Though Morticia was still hesitant to enroll their Wednesday there: too many entitled children, too many powers, and too close to Larissa.
While she and Gomez had the best of times at the school (and the doors were open for you when you had its diploma), during many different instances, the biggest being the whole stalker debacle with Garret Gates (both she and Gomez were still just gaining the full appreciation for a darker take on life) their attendance was shrouded in too many vivid colors.
Besides that, Wednesday’s tolerance for naiveté and intrusion on her personal space took up the first spot on the list of Morticia’s worries and reticence. Larissa Weems was the other important reason for Morticia’s uncertainty – there was too much history between Gomez, Issa, and her. Nevertheless, the elder Addams did trust their once-lover to protect their children.
Thus, they came to a common decision of only enrolling Wednesday at first – to allow her to get a reading of the academy, map out the territory, and prepare in every sense the raven deemed possible so that Pugsley could follow suit the next year.
Pulling strings was a favorite pastime for any Addams, and Morticia relished the opportunity to sway Larissa again: a few eye flutters here, Gomez’s gentle compliment there, plus a sizable donation – and voila, Wednesday became a Nevermore student!
Alas, Morticia’s hopes for a smooth sailing were futile.
Gallivanting about and getting into peculiar situations has always been more Gomez’s niche, the one entirely inherited and taken on by his firstborn. Wednesday’s poise and patience, as well as endurance, all came from Morticia herself. Combine those two, and you would get the composed firecracker that was Wednesday: easily finding her way in and out of the most dangerous or rage-inducing (in others) situations.
It was no wonder that at the first sign of a mystery, their Wednesday found herself leading 30% of the investigation in the sleepy town of Jericho, which hasn’t changed a bit since Morticia and Gomez’s graduation. Visions sometimes could be fickle, and other times they could be over and done with before you even arrive at the place where the events were happening. Morticia lamented their postponing of some of Wednesday’s particular training – it would have come in handy for her little corbeau [raven].
The destiny of being a raven bestowed on her Wednesday to see the vilest and darkest things was done with a purpose, and both Morticia and Gomez were prepared to see their storm cloud through the inevitable upcoming trials. What she wasn’t prepared for was seeing a gruesome sight of her daughter, for all intents and purposes dying in some decrepit mausoleum, who knows where (well, of course, it was on the grounds of Nevermore, but Morticia personally was never quite fond of exploring them in-depth).
The events that transpired after did so with such speed that they were barely able to save Issa from succumbing to the poison (thanks to Morticia’s own timely peek). Morticia chose not to think too deeply about Wednesday’s fate or what could have been. The dove just wanted all of them to go home.
The students were required to stay for another assembly, and Wednesday insisted that her parents go back to New Jersey. With reluctance, Morticia and Gomez agreed and made the journey back home and to Pugsley the next day.
~ AF ~
It’s been over a fortnight since her Wednesday had returned home from Nevermore with the semester halted after the disastrous, deviant attack. And, unsurprisingly, Morticia began experiencing the most awful dreams (just like after Garret).
But this time, no amount of love and support she and Gomez poured into each other helped either of them move on from practically losing their girl. It seemed that today would be her turn to suffer the past again. The night stretched out before her, offering little comfort or respite.
~~~~
“Wednesday!”
‘My nightshade, my beautiful girl, surrounded by the crimson lake’. Morticia was crying inside her glimpse of the past.
‘I’m late, it’s too late…’ Morticia felt herself falling to her knees beside Wednesday, who was much colder to the touch than usual, her pallor resembling a ghost and not her perfect, deadly flower. Wednesday was just dead, and nothing Morticia did could fix that. The dove felt herself drowning in a usually so welcome darkness…
~~~~
The near-silent gasp tore out of Morticia’s mouth as she woke up with a jerk from a dream that had been pestering her since Wednesday’s return home for the unplanned break.
Morticia’s eyes opened to the sight of her and Gomez’s bedroom ceiling splashed with tree shadows, alit by the moon. Morticia’s breathing was slightly faster than normal, but her heart was frantically beating inside her chest. The dream was so vivid that she could still smell her daughter’s fresh blood and could see how Wednesday’s dark brown eyes lost their shine and became covered by a grey film.
She got up fast, pausing only to throw on her silk robe, and rapidly made her way to the hallway. The dove paid no mind if she woke up Gomez or not, full of the need to reach her girl’s room.
Coming up to Wednesday's door, Morticia made herself stop and take a deep breath. She wanted to be closer to her Ness, but causing distress for her girl was the last thing on the mother's mind.
Cracking the door open, Morticia slipped inside and came closer to the bed. The room was bathed in moonlight as Wednesday loved the silver ray engulfing her and so had forgone having any drapes since she was six. The girl in question was lying in the bed under the covers, uncharacteristically on her right side, facing the window, her hands gripping the pillow under her head, restless in her repose.
Coming closer to the bed, Morticia lifted the blanket by its corner and slid under it, gently but firmly gathering Wednesday in her arms, pulling the raven as close as humanly possible.
Several minutes went by, and Morticia felt Wednesday snuggle into her hold. A minute or two more passed before Wednesday pressed nearer as her arms weaved around her mother’s waist.
“Mama…” Wednesday sighed into Morticia’s neck another moment later. “What happened? Why did you come?” she mumbled, nestling into the cocoon of her mother’s embrace.
Feeling Morticia sigh heavily, Wednesday scooted her head back to look at her mother’s face without separating their bodies too much. Her mama looked hollowed out, with an unusual glint in her eyes – not their typical mischievous madness but something else altogether. “Mama?” the raven asked with worry.
“Just another dream, ma petite,” Morticia breathed out, calmer now that she could stroke Wednesday’s cheek with her palm. “I needed to be closer to you,” she admitted freely, kissing Wednesday’s eyelids by turns.
Wednesday hummed and, after a moment, slithered onto Morticia, tucking her head under her mother’s chin, her left arm returning to its place around Morticia’s waist.
“I’m here, mama. Siempre te necesito también [I always need you too].” Wednesday mumbled, pressing her lips to Morticia’s chin.
The dove exhaled with serenity at the feeling of her daughter’s weight on her. Morticia’s arms encircled her girl, left finding Wednesday’s pulse point on her neck and right carefully settling over her left flank, right over the new angry scar. Wednesday tensed momentarily, but the coldness of Morticia’s palm brought her unexpected relief.
“Merci, mama,” she said, nuzzling into Morticia’s neck, sighing contently, finally feeling like she could rest easily.
Barely pressing her palm over the hot scar tissue, Morticia began humming the old children’s lullaby that she used to sing to both her children.
“Mon chéri, je t'aime tellement [My darling, I love you so much].” Morticia uttered, feeling Wednesday become heavier on top of her.
“Love you too, mama.” The raven managed to whisper back before slipping into the land of nightmares under the spell of the familiar tune.
~ AF ~
Gomez startled awake just as Morticia slid out of their bed. He listened to her padding across the room and out, leaving the door open.
Breathing in deeply, he also got up, too restless to go back to sleep now. These vivid dreams about their tormenta suffering, and dying, too far from home, completely alone, were torturing both of them. And whereas Gomez could say that all of them were a figment of his worried mind as a father, he acknowledged that, half the time, Morticia saw the visions of the past come true.
The man walked to his minibar, examining himself in the mirror wall. Visibly creased, with a beard shade and slightly swollen eyes from the lack of sleep – all of it made him a handsome bastard, but did little for his mood.
Deciding against any drinking, Gomez instead lit a cigar. Walking up to the window, the Addams patriarch gazed at the brightly shining moon. Puffing out the smoke, he reckoned to give his girls some time before he went to check up on them.
He loved watching still objects, and the moon was his favorite. Several minutes later, Gomez finished half of his special cigar while contemplating life and death as well as love: the subjects one ruminates on in the middle of the night.
After hiding away the stub, Gomez donned his robe, setting out to find his loves. Languidly walking the corridors of their home, Gomez listened to the House – everything was in order and everyone was accounted for, safely breathing in their own beds.
The door to Wednesday’s abode was left open, with Morticia clearly trying to minimize the noise she might have made when she hurried in. Gomez stealthily peeked inside. And there they were, his girls – wrapped in each other’s arms, soundly asleep with relaxed expressions on their moonlit faces.
His daughter loved her space, and so her bedstead reflected that – it was a king-sized mattress with a wooden headboard, several pillows, but only a light blanket. Right now, Morticia and Wednesday were right in the middle of it, spread out but clinging to each other all the same.
Gomez sat beside them, looking at his wife cradling their precious daughter: Wednesday’s leg was thrown over her mother’s pelvis, Morticia’s arms over Wednesday’s back with her left palm pressing over the girl’s heart and her right cradling Wednesday’s left side.
With no intention of leaving, Gomez slid closer to his family but did not touch them, afraid of disturbing their hard-won slumber. Yet, at that moment, Wednesday’s foot moved lower, finding his hip and pressing down firmly as she sighed and melted even further into her mother’s hold, completely relaxed.
Gomez pressed back, grinning with relief – there was a moment where he’d doubted that he would see his storm cloud at all. Placing his hand on Wednesday’s hip, feeling the realness of her being here, Gomez thanked all the powers (dark and light) that have always been in his family for the chance to continue their journey on this plane together for a while longer.
Although the Addams did not fear Death, they were not eager to meet with it either. And Gomez thanked the Devil that his Wednesday seemed to finally agree with it.