Chapter 7: In All But Name

 

 

“If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly, and my low spirits would brighten up.”
― Anna Akhmatova.

 

Wednesday Addams had lost all sense of time and space.

The classroom she was in did not exist for her. It was as if she was surrounded by utter emptiness. She did not feel the warmth of the sun from the scant light coming in through the closed windows. She was not aware of the four walls that surrounded her. She barely registered the sensation of the desk she was sitting on. None of her senses registered the world around her.

All her senses were focused on Enid Saint-Clair.

Keeping her eyes fully closed in a futile attempt to maintain a modicum of control, her touch was fully absorbed by the sensation of the weight of the young werecat girl sitting in her lap. Her hands clinging to her, feeling the tattered shreds of fabric of a torn uniform and the warmth of bare skin, the texture of her hair. The heat and moisture on their lips locked in a hungry duel.

She could smell her. A wild, animal, sweet fragrance mixed with the scent of a dark forest. She could hear the purr escaping her throat, the only sound she could perceive intermingled with her own gasps and moans.

And I wanted to escape from this?

She noticed the sharp clawed hands gripping her firmly. At some point her uniform coat had fallen down and the collar of her shirt had loosened, her tie gone. She felt the coldness of the air on her bare shoulders as Enid's lips parted from hers. Wednesday let out the beginnings of a whimper of protest that morphed into a gasp of surprise when she felt those same lips again landing on her chin, and then on her throat, and soon in the hollow between her neck and shoulders.

I am an idiot.

She felt teeth like razor blades grazing her skin and she shuddered in pleasure, taking Enid's head in her hands and pulling her closer to herself, dropping back and allowing Enid...

“MISS ADDAMS! MISS SAINT-CLAIR!”

And the moment was broken by a shrill, alarmed scream.

The two girls broke apart abruptly, standing up as if propelled by a spring and with their eyes locked on the open classroom door.

Wednesday fought the urge to smack her own forehead with the palm of her hand. Enid's transformation hadn't been silent at all, and it's not as if the old classrooms at Nevermore Academy were conveniently soundproofed. It made perfect sense that someone would have heard the roar and come to investigate. Even more so, considering the passage of time, if the absence of the two had been noticed and noted by someone.

And all that had led to the fact that right now Wednesday Addams found herself disheveled, covered in kiss marks and faint bites on her neck with her uniform coat off and her shirt almost all the way open, standing next to an Enid Saint-Clair with her uniform in tatters and showing more skin than would be considered appropriate. And watching them from the classroom door, transfixed with a scandalized expression on her wrinkled face, Mrs. Pickering, the math teacher.

The silence was deafening.

“Uh... er... hello Mrs. Pickering.”

At least until it was broken by the nervous voice of Enid Saint-Clair.

“This... well... Is there any way to convince you that this is a hallucination borne of your senile mind?” the werecat asked, trying to put on an expression of candorous innocence.

The nervous twitch that took over the teacher's left eye did not bode well.

And this time Wednesday did facepalm.

 

 

§§§

 

 

Gomez Addams was a man consumed with paternal concern. It was not a common state for him.

Oh, don't misunderstand. Gomez loved his progeny, adored them, always enjoyed the time he was able to spend with them. So much so that at the time he found it outrageous that the authorities demanded that Wednesday and Pugsley had to go to school. Why have children if you're going to send them off every day to spend several hours somewhere else instead of being with them? Absurd, nonsensical, stupid.

So yes, Gomez loved his children, but he rarely felt concern for them.

Concern in the sense that he knew perfectly well what they were capable of and how they knew how to take care of themselves. Morticia and he had always tried to cultivate that individualism, creativity and willpower in the children. So Gomez knew that his offspring could fend for themselves, therefore he didn't have to worry about them. He would help them if they really needed it, of course. Or if they asked him to, but that happened rarely and less and less over the years.

And that was even more accentuated with Wednesday, always a force of nature in her own right. Gomez had always been fully confident that his daughter could handle any undertaking she set her mind to. By all means, everything seemed to indicate that his daughter would one day become one of the most legendary figures in the family tree, like Calpurnia, or Cousin Cackle.

The kind of Addams that future generations would be told stories about.

But now he was concerned for her, because the situation he was in was shattering all his expectations.

Silence. The most total and absolute silence.

It had now been a month since his daughter's admission to Nevermore. When Wednesday had inquired about the Academy and expressed her desire to join it, Morticia and he had been surprised. Even now he did not know what had prompted his daughter's request. Morticia seemed to have certain suspicions and had spoken to Grandmama about it, but when he asked her, his wife simply told him that it was best to be patient and wait for Wednesday herself to take the first step in telling them her reasons.

But anyway, a whole month in Nevermore and... nothing. Gomez was really worried.

Not a peep from the authorities about her time at the school. No letters or complaints from the parents of her peers to remove her from the academy. Nevermore was a private school that tended to house some so-called “elites”, and Gomez knew his daughter. He knew it was a matter of time before Wednesday would take really drastic measures if some girl with more money and snobbery than sense made her lose her temper.

By now he had expected at least three murder attempts or a case of arson. But nothing, no sign, zero.

It was deeply unsettling.

So much that he had at that very moment resorted to trying to distract his troubled mind with a nice glass of kerosene on the rocks and a game of darts with Thing.

“I truly don't understand, old man,” Gomez threw a disproportionately huge dart at the mobile dartboard held by the living amputated hand, “By now I would expect at the very least an alarmed call to complain about a scorpion infestation or something similar. Like that time she moved a colony of bats into her elementary school gym.”

Without letting go of his grip on the dartboard, the living hand managed to gesticulate in response.

Gomez shook his head, “No, not even a good session on the rack with Morticia has gotten this worry out of my head.”

Gomez threw the last dart with such force that it pierced the target. Fortunately, Thing was unharmed, dropping the now useless object. Gomez plopped down on the couch, taking a sip from his glass and pulling out one of his cigars. Thing approached him, hopping over one of the couch's armrests to stand next to the beleaguered Addams patriarch.

Gomez sighed, “Oh, Thing, old friend. I fear the worst. This silence is not normal, it terrifies me to think that my daughter may have fallen prey to melancholy, to some atavistic form of indifference.”

Thing wiggled, his fingers moving loosely and swiftly.

Gomez shook his head, “No, I've already checked. Pubert's hair is still smooth and as black as tar. Not the slightest hint of golden curls on his head. No dimples or rosy cheeks. His moustache continues to grow luxuriantly. Not the slightest sign of alarm.”

Gomez took a puff from his cigar and a small flame escaped his lips as he exhaled, “No, I'm afraid whatever is affecting mi pequeña víbora is something more insidious and subtle.”

At that moment, a screeching sound echoed through the rooms of the mansion.

“What's that?” asked Gomez.

Thing tapped on the couch.

“The phone? The phone! I always forget we have one of those...”

The two could hear Lurch's footsteps and the sound of the phone being picked up. The Addams' frankenstinian butler let out an unintelligible grunt by way of reply. His footsteps echoed again and he made his presence known in the living room where Gomez was sitting.

“Call for Mr. Addams,” said the butler in a cavernous voice, ”Nevermore Academy.”

“Nevermore!” exclaimed Gomez, rising with a sudden impulse. The Addams patriarch rushed out in the direction of the old telephone, promptly picking it up and answering the call.

“Hello? Yes, this is Gomez Addams... Ah, Larissa! Is this about... Yes? She's done what? No! Really? That's wonderful!”

The murmur of a resigned voice echoed on the other end of the line.

“Ah, yes. Scandalous, scandalous,” Gomez replied, grinning from ear to ear, ”Morticia and I will be right over, of course!”

Gomez hung up the phone and let out a cheer before turning to Lurch and Thing, perched on the giant butler's shoulder. A smile of absolute paternal pride lit his face with maniacal gleefulness, “Thing! Lurch! My daughter is going to be expelled from her school for public fornication!”

Aaah, that Wednesday. A chip of the old Addams block!

 

 

§§§

 

 

The next day, on record time, Gomez and Morticia Addams found themselves at Nevermore, in the principal's office accompanied by the principal herself and the two miscreants. Poor Larissa looked like she hadn't slept well in days, which in the Addams' opinion lent her an air of healthy mortality.

But who really attracted the Addamses' attention were the two figures sitting in front of Larissa's desk.

Wednesday sat as regal as ever, every inch  her mothers daughter. Her hastily thrown on uniform however was telling a different story. Black school tie now accidentally replaced with a blue one, buttons hastily buttoned up in the wrong order, blazer missing entirely and various red hickeys standing out gravely against a porcelain throat. Finally, lips that were trying hard to stay in a straight line were swollen and bruised.

Her paramour was sitting in a relaxed carefree manor, her arm around the back of Wednesday's chair. Long fingers playing with the stray hairs that had escaped Wednesday's usually immaculate braids. The young scoundrel's uniform matching Wednesday's in disarray, but somehow worse. The few buttons she had left on her shirt, only buttoned up enough to not cause her poor principal an aneurysm. Black tie partly hanging out her trousers pocket. Brown hair resembling a bird's nest more than anything.

And a smile like that of a cat that had just eaten the fattest of canaries on her blushing face.

Gomez and Morticia exchanged a glance and a knowing smile. There was no need to exchange words, as it was obvious that they were dealing with a future new member of the family, without a doubt.

“Thank you so much for coming so soon,” Larissa Weems said. The headmistress cast one last reproachful glance at the girls before sighing with resignation, “It was imperative that you arrived first, Gomez, Morticia...”

“Oh? You seem concerned about more than just the present situation. What's the reason, Rissa?” asked Morticia.

“It's because of my foster parents...,” Enid began to say before being interrupted by the headmistress, “Allow me to bring them up to speed on the situation, Enid.”

Enid Saint-Clair nodded, shutting up on the spot and bowing her head in deference. Weems was one of the few adults she genuinely respected.

The headmistress cleared her throat before she began to speak.

“Four days ago, Mrs. Pickering, our math teacher, caught your daughter and Miss Saint-Clair in a situation she described as ‘carnally compromised’ and… Gomez, please stop crying.”

“It's just...I was so worried...,” the Addams patriarch mumbled as Morticia lightly patted the back of his hand. Enid raised an eyebrow looking questioningly at Wednesday, who was doing her best to ignore the scene.

Weems shook her head, “As I was saying... Wednesday and Enid were caught in a... complicated situation. I tried to keep things discreet and shield them as much as possible, so that the nature of their indiscretion would not be known at school. Unfortunately intolerance is far reaching and even among our teachers there are many who remain considerably conservative in some facets. The student body would also speak up and it would only be a matter of time before the story reached their parents and...well, you can imagine the reactions of some.”

“Pitchforks and torches?” asked Morticia.

“Yes...maybe something more metaphorical than that, but yes,” replied Weems, ”Well, the problem is that the situation seemed controlled. Only Wednesday, Enid, Professor Pickering and I were aware. And it would have stayed that way if these two hadn't continued their clandestine escapades the last three days, basically making their situation public among the entire student body and faculty,” Weems cast a look of resigned reproach at the two girls, “The last time just today barely fifteen minutes before your arrival when I went to pick them up for this meeting, in the music classroom.”

“Ah, the only soundproof one in the school,” Morticia said, shooting an approving glance at the girls, ”Good choice.”

Larissa Weems made a superhuman effort not to bang her head on her desk. Morticia must have noticed the tension because she immediately turned her focus back to the principal, “Oh, I'm sorry Rissa. Please continue.”

"Sigh...given the situation and the notoriety it has gained, I am compeled by the board to call he parents and to expel both of them. But I am aware of the situation in which Miss Saint-Clair finds herself, which makes me think that she could be at risk. I was therefore hoping to be able to ask for your help.”

It was as if there was some kind of silent communication, but at that moment Morticia did not ask Larissa for further details. Gomez and she immediately turned their gazes to Wednesday, who nodded slightly before beginning to speak.

“Enid is an orphan. The foster family she is forced to reside with are a puritanical couple, short-sighted, emotionally abusive and potentially dangerous to her well-being. It is highly likely that simply because Enid has chosen me as her paramour they will decide to remove her from Nevermore and attempt to intern her in one of those horrible re-education camps that certain cohorts of human garbage insist on maintaining to torture their progeny in a non-consensual manner in tribute to a grotesque concept of normalcy.”

“What she said,” added Enid.

The brief silence after that statement was interrupted by a faint knocking on the office door, opening it slightly and revealing Weems' assistant.

“Director Weems? Mr. and Mrs. Gopnik have arrived... Ooof!”

The door burst open as a middle-aged couple entered almost forcibly, pushing the young assistant aside in a very rude manner. They looked like they had stepped out of a cliché painting of the perfect 1950s couple, except for the fact that the man's clothes were not tailored, revealing that his seemingly luxurious suit was a cheap copy made without taste. He also looked like an overly regular consumer of alcohol. The woman was wearing a floral dress that could only be described as visually vomitous. His expression was one of wrathful indifference, while she cried loudly, holding a box of tissues.

“Oh, Enid, kitten, how could you,” the woman wailed,”With all we've done for you, this is how you repay us?”

“...don't call me that...,” Enid murmured, very quietly, her face turning pale with disgust.

“We are very disappointed in you, young lady,” said Mr. Gopnik, “It seems this was not the right place for you after all, we will have to take some… measures.”

“Oh, my kitten...,” Mrs. Gopnik continued to cry theatrically. Pure crocodile tears, “We knew you had your problems, but we never thought for a moment that you would fall into the clutches of such depravity. That you would choose to be such a... such a deviant.”

Enid kept silent, trying to contain the green glow in her eyes and the urge she felt many times to disembowel those two pieces of scum. Wednesday seemed to have fewer qualms, everything pointed to the fact that in a matter of seconds the young Addams girl would be on her feet with knives in hand ready to end their lives.

Morticia noticed it right away, so she stood up saving the lives of the Gopnik's without them being aware of it.

“Mr. Gopnik, Mrs. Gopnik,” she said, greeting them with an elegant nod of her head and a perfectly cordial smile,”I am Morticia Addams.”

Mr. Gopnik made a disgusted grimace that did no favors to his reddened and swollen face, “Ah, you must be the mother of the other…”

“Young woman, yes,” Morticia interrupted,”Please, I would like you to join me for a moment outside the office, for a chat in private.”

“Look, lady… if you can be called that,” Mrs. Gopnik began after casting an accusatory glance at Morticia's tremendously tight dress, “Don't think for a moment that...”

“Mrs. Gopnik,” Morticia interrupted again. A steely edge had been added to the tone of her voice, immediately silencing the other woman, “You misunderstood me. It wasn't a request. You two and I are going to leave this office now and have a nice chat. Whether you want it or not.”

The Addams matriarch's smile was still friendly, and cordial. But also terrifying.

Still sitting in his chair, Gomez was grinning like a maniac witnessing the most wonderful spectacle. For her part, Enid noticed that somehow the room seemed to have become gloomier and the atmosphere more oppressive. It was as if darkness had enveloped Morticia, with a single faint ray of light falling on her face, illuminating only her eyes.

Wednesday merely relaxed.

The Gopniks left the office, barely stammering a few words as Morticia gently guided them by resting her hands on their shoulders. The office door closed behind them, as if moved by an invisible force.

To this day, no one knows what was said in that conversation. Not Enid, not Wednesday, not even Gomez. No loud or irate words were heard. Whatever was spoken in the hallway in front of the entrance to the Nevermore Academy principal's office that day was done almost silently and discreetly. And just four minutes later, Morticia entered again, alone.

There was no sign of the Gopniks. As if they had never been there.

“Querida?” asked Gomez.

Morticia merely smiled and nodded in reply, before turning to Larissa Weems, “Rissa, my dear, would you do me the favor of preparing the necessary paperwork for the record that Enid Saint-Clair will be spending her period of expulsion with us? Although I imagine that was what you were hoping for...”

“Actually, yes. I had hoped so,” said Weems,”What have you...?”

"Oh, I just had a very pleasant chat with the Gopniks. And some of their ancestors. Nothing complicated,” Morticia replied, her smile almost predatory for a second. Finally, she turned her attention back to Gomez, “Gomez, I'm afraid I have to make a very bitter request of you...”

Gomez Addams stood up, taking his wife's right hand and kissing it as if it were the most precious object in the universe, “Tish, for you anything...”

“We're going to need you to resume... your professional activity. For a while at least.”

Gomez seemed to pale, holding a hand to his heart, “Ah! The torment! But it is my beloved who requests it!”

“Not for my sake, but for the future of our daughter, mon chère.”

“Tish! That's French!”

“Oh no...,” muttered Weems. She had witnessed scenes like that in the past more times than she would have cared to, and they didn't always end with clothes on.

Gomez proceeded to kiss Morticia's arm, almost compulsively and with an animalistic fervor, not caring at all about the presence of the other people in the room.

Despite the blush the scene caused on her cheeks, Enid couldn't help a giggle.

“Ah, so that's where that Greek thing of yours comes from,” the werecat said, throwing a smirk at Wednesday.

“Please shut up,” the young Addams replied.

“Whatever you say, μικρό μου τέρας.”

Wednesday Addams moaned.

 

 

§§§

 

 

We are nearing the end of this story.

Although some elements of the board had tried to pressure her to punish the young couple with a permanent expulsion, Weems succeeded in imposing that the expulsion term be limited to two weeks. For fifteen days, Enid would be living with the Addamses. On the day of her temporary departure from the Academy there was an emotional farewell from Yoko and Marilyn and a promise to correspond continually. Weems also promised the other two girls free access to her office phone to call the Addams mansion once a day at the end of classes for half an hour at the most.

Yoko and Marilyn also tried to have a one-on-one talk with Wednesday. Basically, trying to make it clear to the Addams that if anything happened to Enid or if she broke her heart they would have no qualms about using violence on her.

Wednesday misinterpreted the threats and thought they were trying to flirt with her. She very politely informed them that she was not interested in a polyamorous relationship. The expressions on her friends' faces caused Enid to nearly choke on her own spittle as she laughed.

Enid's stay with the Addamses quickly became the period of greatest happiness the young werecat had experienced since her childhood. Gomez gladly agreed to duel with her, Pugsley and Pubert turned out to be excellent playmates who would be amused by anything, Morticia and Grandmama became the mother figures she had so desperately needed, Lurch and Thing were such sweethearts...

And no one cared about her nature, nor her transformations, nor her propensity for violence. Hell, they celebrated her. She fit in like she had never fit in with anyone before.

And of course, all her alone time with Wednesday.

Poor Pugsley had been forced to run away dodging a hail of knives when he realized the true nature of his sister's relationship with the werecat and made the mistake of openly comparing them to their parents after accidentally catching them in another compromising position.

Finally, during her second week with the Addamses, Enid was surprised with the arrival of all her personal items and belongings that had been left behind at the Gopniks’ house.

“But...how did you...?” she murmured, as she saw Lurch carrying the boxes full of clothes, mementos, books...

“My father is an excellent lawyer,” Wednesday explained, “Many people ignore it because when he worked he tended to lose all his cases, but only because he always chose clients who were indisputably guilty. Anyway, he always abhorred the profession but he's made an exception for you.”

Definitely, in their next duel she was going to hug Gomez until she broke every bone in his body.

Wednesday presented a folder containing various papers to Enid.

“What are these?” the werecat asked.

“They need your signature. The first document will declare you as emancipated, you will no longer need your foster parents. You will be completely free from their influence. The second, if you wish, will make you a ward of the Addams Family, under our full legal protection.”

“A ward...”

“It means that for all practical purposes you will be an official member of the family,” Wednesday said, her dark eyes casting a look laden with meaning and future promise toward the werecat,”In all but name. For the time being.”

“Fort he time being?” asked Enid, casting a look laden with emotion toward Wednesday.

“Perhaps... one day you may wish to take...,” Wednesday began, the words surprisingly failing her. A telltale blush on her cheeks, “The family name, I mean. It's too soon and I don't mean to presume..."

Enid silenced her with a kiss.

And in that kiss were all her answers. Wednesday knew immediately, without the slightest trace of doubt in her spirit. She knew that that kiss was a yes. That it was a promise to her, to Enid, to both of them. She knew it in that kiss and in all the kisses that followed, and in so much more.

She knew instinctively.

After all, Wednesday Addams was no stranger to love.

 

 

 

NOTES

 

And one day, during a vacation period, someone will knock on the door of the Mansion and it will be Pubert who opens it. And Wednesday will find a couple of familiar faces and once again a reason to temporarily adopt the name Woe. But that's another story you've no doubt already read, I hope.

 

We have reached the end! 😁

 

I told you that this fanfic was going to be short even though I finally serialized it instead of continuing with my initial idea of a one-shot. Hell, there are longer one-shots than this if you count by words.

 

But the truth is that I feel more comfortable with the chapter structure. It gives me more room to revise and make changes, and there are parts that in the initial one-shot version wouldn't have come out or would have been developed much more briefly. Even with that there are things that have been touched only very superficially, but I wanted to get to the point, to get as soon as possible to that defining moment in the classroom that Woe alluded to when telling the story in Kooky Spooky.

 

I hope you liked it. It's the first time I've written something that's more or less just romance without being interspersed with a fantasy action plot.

 

Now? Oh, just another short break before I start going full ahead with Creepy Mysterious. I'll see you around. ✪ ω ✪

 

The part with Gomez is inspired and takes some lines and a couple of exact descriptions from the snippet written by haveawish which you can find on their Tumblr or in the extras at the end of Kooky Spooky.

 

Some translations:

mi pequeña víbora: (spanish) my little viper
μικρό μου τέρας: (greek) my little monster