Chapter Text
The last thing Tyler Galpin remembered was the taste of his own blood and the sound of Wednesday Addams screaming his name.
He stood now in the shadow of two granite headstones, reading names that had haunted him for months: Françoise Galpin and Isaac Night. The winter wind cut through Jericho's cemetery like a blade, but Tyler barely felt the cold. The ache in his chest had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the girl standing three feet away, staring at his parents' graves with those dark, unreadable eyes.
This is how it ends, Tyler thought, watching Wednesday's pale fingers trace frost patterns in the air. Not with redemption. Not with forgiveness. Just... emptiness.
The sound came from behind them—a wet, growling noise that Tyler recognized with sick familiarity. Another Hyde. One of the ferals that had escaped the research facility's destruction. One that had been hunting Wednesday.
"Run," Tyler whispered, but Wednesday Addams had never run from anything in her life.
The creature burst from the tree line, all claws and teeth and mindless hunger. Tyler felt his own Hyde surge forward in response, but he was tired—so damn tired of being a monster. The transformation rippled through him like lightning, muscle and bone reshaping with practiced ease.
He met the rogue Hyde halfway between Wednesday and death.
The fight was brutal and brief. Tyler's experience won out over the other creature's raw savagery, but not without cost. Claws raked across his chest, puncturing lung and muscle. Blood filled his mouth with copper and regret.
When the other Hyde lay still, Tyler collapsed to his knees in the snow. Red spread beneath him like spilled wine on pristine linen.
"Tyler!" Wednesday's voice cut through the ringing in his ears. She dropped beside him, her small hands trying futilely to stem the bleeding. "You absolute idiot. You beautiful, stupid—"
"Worth it," he managed, each word a struggle. His vision blurred, but he could see tears on Wednesday's cheeks. He'd never seen her cry before. "You're safe. That's all that... matters."
Her hands cupped his face, and for a moment, Tyler glimpsed the girl beneath the armor—vulnerable and fierce and heartbroken.
"I choose you over the monster this time," he whispered, the words barely audible over his failing heartbeat.
Wednesday's lips moved, forming words he couldn't hear. The world faded to grey, then black, then—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Tyler's eyes snapped open to the accusatory glow of his alarm clock. 7:30 AM. His chest rose and fell with perfectly healthy breaths, no punctured lung in sight. Sunlight streamed through familiar windows, illuminating a bedroom he hadn't seen in three years.
What the hell?
He sat up slowly, cataloging impossible details. His reflection in the mirror across the room showed seventeen-year-old features instead of twenty. The scar on his left shoulder—a souvenir from his first Hyde transformation—was gone. Even his hands looked younger, unmarked by the violence he remembered.
You're awake.
The voice in his head wasn't his own, but it wasn't unfamiliar either. The Hyde had always been there, a whisper in the darkness of his mind. But this voice carried different weight—darker, hungrier than before.
How are we here? Tyler thought back.
Death bends when love demands it, the Hyde replied with something that felt like predatory satisfaction. We died for her. We lived for her. Now we claim her.
Tyler's hands trembled as he reached for his phone. The date confirmed his impossible reality: three years in the past. Three years before Wednesday arrived at Nevermore. Three years before everything went wrong.
This is our chance, the Hyde continued, and Tyler could feel the creature's presence more clearly than ever before—not separate, not adversarial, but part of him in a way it had never been. No manipulation this time. We earn what is ours by right.
"Earn her love?" Tyler whispered aloud. "Or take it?"
The Hyde's response came with dark amusement: She didn't become our master before, Tyler. This time, she will own us completely. We will be hers, our dark queen, our raven, our everything. She will claim us as thoroughly as we claim her.
A chill that had nothing to do with the morning air ran down Tyler's spine. The Hyde's voice carried promises and threats in equal measure—devotion that bordered on worship, protection that felt like possession.
She was meant to be ours, the Hyde whispered. In the supposed future, we failed her. We let others control us, manipulate us, turn us into a weapon. Never again. This time, we choose. This time, we become exactly what she needs.
Tyler stood on unsteady legs and walked to his window. Jericho spread out below him, sleepy and ordinary in the morning light. Somewhere out there, Wednesday Addams was living her life, unaware that Tyler Galpin even existed. Unaware that someone had already died for her love.
What if she doesn't want to be claimed? Tyler asked.
The Hyde's amusement was a purr in his mind: She will. Wednesday Addams has spent her life surrounded by people who fear her darkness. We will be the first to worship it. She will be ours, and we will be hers, and I will paint the walls with the blood of anyone who dares stand between us.
Tyler closed his eyes and felt the weight of supernatural knowledge, of a second chance purchased with his own death. The future stretched before him like a chess board, and he could see moves that others couldn't imagine.
No mistakes this time, he promised himself.
I will tear the throat from any fool who threatens what is ours, the Hyde added, and Tyler felt the creature's anticipation like electricity under his skin.
Three years. He had three years to become the man—the monster—that Wednesday Addams deserved. Three years to build something real instead of falling into the trap of manipulation and lies that had destroyed them in the supposed future.
She will be magnificent when she's ours, the Hyde whispered with dark satisfaction. And we will be worthy of her darkness.
Tyler smiled, and for the first time since his awakening, he felt the creature inside him not as an enemy, but as an ally. They wanted the same thing, after all.
They wanted Wednesday Addams to choose them. Completely. Forever.
The question wasn't whether they could make it happen.
The question was what they were willing to become to deserve her.
Downstairs, Tyler could hear his father moving around the kitchen—alive, healthy, unsuspecting. Sheriff Donovan Galpin, who in the supposed future had died never truly understanding what his son had become. Tyler had a chance to change that too.
Tell him the truth, the Hyde advised. We'll need allies for what's coming.
All of it? Tyler asked.
Enough truth to bind him to our cause. Fathers protect their sons, Tyler. Even monstrous ones. Especially monstrous ones.
Tyler pulled on clothes with hands that no longer shook. The supposed future had taught him many things—how to kill, how to hunt, how to survive. But most importantly, it had taught him the value of Wednesday Addams's rare, precious love.
This time, he wouldn't squander it.
This time, he would earn it. Keep it. Make it his forever.
Our beautiful nightmare awaits, the Hyde whispered as Tyler headed downstairs to begin rewriting fate. Let the hunt begin.
The morning sun painted Jericho in shades of gold and promise, but Tyler Galpin saw only shadows and opportunity. Somewhere in the distance, a clock tower chimed eight times—each note a countdown to when Wednesday Addams would walk into his life again.
He had three years to become irresistible to her.
He had three years to become worthy of her darkness.
And he had a Hyde who was very, very eager to help.