Chapter Text
Wednesday resolutely stared into the mouth of the tall fireplace as her parents signed her soul away to this last ditch attempt at containing her. “We really do appreciate the lengths you are going to for our Wednesday, Larissa. There aren’t many places that will accept her considering the circumstances, but I knew you wouldn’t turn us out into the cold night air,” her mother schmoozed. Her new jailkeeper, Principal Weems, was a tall, elegant woman who had been her mother’s roommate during her tenure at the academy. All the more reason not to trust her.
Weems patiently explained that since Wednesday’s grades were exemplary (the curse of under-achieving peers), her family had an illustrious history with the school (ah, nepotism, how charming), and the court mandate was very specific (an unforeseen obstacle), they were willing to make an exception to their usual policies. Wednesday glanced at her.
“Not every school has the capacity to accommodate your situation, but Nevermore is more than equipped to handle the present circumstances,” Weems assured her parents. She never dropped eye contact with Wednesday, so the girl heard her meaning loud and clear: You will be kept here, and kept under control. Wednesday would like to see her try.
Wednesday called her bluff: “Principal Weems, how do you intend to keep a close eye on my progress if you are head of the entire academy? Even with my family’s influence I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to than minding the day to day of one student.” There was no way this woman had the time – or the patience – to keep up with her. Weems stood. Her lips quirked up in a tight-lipped grin. Her red lipstick reminded Wednesday of the fake blood of a horror movie, much too vivid to compare to the real thing.
“Quite right,” Weems said, “which is why you’ve been assigned a minder to attend classes with you and keep an eye on your, as you said, day to day comings and goings. I will check in with you regularly, but she will be the one keeping you out of trouble.” Her smile was not unkind. That made it even more infuriating.
Wednesday turned from the towering woman and glared at her father. “Ay, my little viper, this was the best we could do to keep you in school. You want to keep up with your studies, yes?”
“They’re the best in the business,” her mother assured her.
Weems passed Wednesday a card from the open file on her desk. “The Sinclair Security Firm has been protecting outcasts for decades, both from and for normies. I think you will find that they will be more than capable of handling you.” The business card was a crisp matte white with golden text. The text simply read “Like You’re Part of the Pack”. The logo was a waning moon with a padlock insignia. There was no further information.
Wednesday glanced at the three adults. Each one of them was vying for her to show some kind of approval of this laborious punishment. Not on their life.
Instead, she asked, “Are they outcasts?” Her parents looked at each other briefly, then at her. She knew that meant they had talked via eye contact alone, but she had yet to learn how to read minds. She’d have to ask grandmama for more tips when she escaped this place.
Weems clicked her tongue. “Unfortunately, as part of the court mandate, this is where we have to leave your family for now. You can see them again on Parents’ Weekend, but it was recommended that you get to know the school for a while before you have further contact. It isn’t my choice but we have to do as was recommended.”
“I believe you meant to say ordered,” Wednesday cut in.
Weems nodded once. “Morticia, Gomez, are you ready to say your goodbyes?”
Normally, Wednesday could appreciate a morbid turn of phrase, but right now… She knew this was coming, but not so soon. Her parents stood. Her father hugged her quickly, saying how much he would miss her, how much all of them would miss her. How much she would love Nevermore. Don’t, she silently begged him. Her face revealed nothing.
Her mother tried to say something miserable to her and of course she bit back with venom. It was an act of self-defense. Morticia straightened ever so slightly and she knew her strike had hit home. Then, the slender woman handed her a necklace, explaining that it had been used to channel spirits and conjure visions. Possibly useful. As well as an insipid comment about how it was their initials. “It’s a symbol of our connection,” she purred. Wednesday accepted the gift wordlessly.
She turned about face and walked up to Weems. She could tell this hurt her mother’s feelings immensely. Good. “Wednesday, you are breaking your mother’s heart,” her father added like an infatuated wet blanket. He held Morticia’s hand to his chest.
“Impossible, she doesn’t have one to break.”
Her mother sighed and Wednesday could feel her smile even without looking. Instead, she glowered up at her new principal. Wednesday could hear her father kissing her mother over and over again somewhere and glowered harder.
Weems raised one distressed eyebrow at her former classmates for a moment. She looked down and gave Wednesday that tight-lipped smile. “Shall we go meet your roommate?”
Wednesday skulked out of the office. It wasn’t as if she had much of a choice in the matter.
When they entered the bedroom, the first thing she noticed was how barren it was. Her own side of the room was, of course, acceptably monochrome. Her collection of steamer trunks waited for her, and the other side of the room had one suitcase and duffle bag sitting on the floor. Most of the other half was muted brown tones – wooden beams and aged floorboards – except for a garishly bright patchwork quilt. The multicolored squares ranged in patterns from pinstripes (acceptable ) to hearts ( not acceptable if not anatomical ) and shades of hot pink to dusty pink to pastel pink ( not not not acceptable).
Some of the squares bore logos: “The Balkan Howlers 2017,” “Happy Wolf Houston 2015,” “Lucky Lycan Lakes 2018,” “Were-Manor Summer Academy 2020,” they proclaimed. The corners were folded in tightly; hospital corners. Rather old fashioned, Wednesday thought, picking a piece of dust off of her pigtails. Whoever this stranger was, they had even fewer personal affects than Wednesday herself. Wednesday kept things sparse, but this minder appeared to only have one comfort object, and a blanket wasn’t much of a memento.
Weems glanced around the room and called, “Enid?”
A girl around Wednesday’s height (fine, Wednesday’s height while wearing platform boots) stepped into view on the balcony. She pushed the stark white window open and marched up to Weems and Wednesday. “Yes ma’am. I’ve checked the perimeter.” The girl appeared to be about Wednesday’s age. Her wavy sandy blonde hair was tied back in twin french braids, close to her head. Her spine was so ramrod straight that it rivaled Wednesday’s own stiff posture. She stood fully facing Weems, feet shoulder width apart. Weems placed a hand on her shoulder.
“At ease, Enid. I see you are already hard at work,” she said, her voice taking on a comforting quality that made Wednesday’s skin crawl. Weems seemed... concerned? “Wednesday, meet your roommate.”
The girl turned to her and Wednesday locked eyes with sharp blue ones. “Enid Sinclair,” she introduced, holding out a hand.
Wednesday glanced down at it like it was a dead fish at the supermarket. The fun part was already over; it was hardly worth playing with at that point. “You’re the guard dog?” It was a guess at her outcast status, fully intended to rile her up to gather information, but if it bothered Enid, she didn’t let it show. Enid let her hand drop.
Wednesday looked the girl up and down. She wore heavy tan work boots, pale green corduroy pants, and a furry gray vest over a long sleeve thermal shirt. She looked like a summer-camp counselor fell into a blender with an army brat. Wednesday could eat her for breakfast without breaking a sweat. “You should double check that perimeter,” Wednesday sniped. “I already see four separate ways to enter this room without you noticing, and another three where you can’t stop an intruder even if you do detect them.”
Enid’s hands flexed at her sides and she stood tall. She smiled at Wednesday and it felt deeply unkind. “Wednesday Addams, I will be your bodyguard for the foreseeable future. Sinclair Security takes our work very seriously, and you will not leave my sight for the semester and possibly the entire school year. 24/7 protection.”
“I hardly think that anyone at this sheltered boarding school poses a threat to me.”
For the first time since entering their room, Enid’s formal posture slackened. Her shoulders dropped and this stranger actually giggled, honest to goodness giggled, at Wednesday. Giggling near Wednesday was already absurd, but giggling at her? “A threat to you?” Enid’s tone grew serious, edging on mean. “No, Wednesday, I’m protecting people from you.”
Her laugh bubbled up again, and if looks could kill Wednesday felt she may have one foot in the grave. What was up with this girl? Not that she was wrong about Wednesday either… Wednesday’s inquisitive glare was interrupted by their principal clearing her throat.
“Alright ladies,” Weems’s voice rang out above them. “I will leave you two to move in. Play nice. I remind you both that you are required to behave yourselves.” Demonstrating her incredible skill at delegation, Weems turned to leave, leaving Wednesday alone with this absolute weirdo.
“Principal Weems?”
“Yes?” She looked back at the intense blonde.
Wednesday glanced at the other girl. Enid folded her hands behind her back. “Thank you for putting me back in my old room.” She couldn’t seem to hold eye contact with their principal.
“I had hoped having familiar surroundings may bring you some comfort,” Weems said kindly. Enid nodded at the floor. “Let me know if either of you need help settling in.” Enid straightened up and her arms dropped to her sides again.
“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am,” Enid said. She stood at attention until the door shut with a soft shhhhft. Enid dropped her military rigidity. She turned and looked Wednesday up and down flatly. Wednesday returned the bland glare. Not often did she run into someone who appeared to correctly assess her for the threat she was. That alone was… intriguing. “I heard you tried to run from the last three schools you were in. And killed a guy.”
“There were two, but they haven’t found the second.”
Enid didn’t blanch. “Any funny business here, and I will snap you in half like a twig.”
“I didn’t think a security firm was supposed to make idle threats.”
Enid’s face gained a bit of faux-mirth. “Oh don’t worry!” Her voice dropped into a biting growl. “They’re not idle.” Wednesday strode at the girl, knife ready to slide out of her sleeve, but Enid stood her ground. Before Wednesday could get a solid slash in, Enid raised her hands and her claws popped out. The knife stopped with an ugly clang. That confirmed Wednesday’s suspicions at least.
Wednesday froze, eyes burning. Enid held her eye contact.
Wednesday wouldn’t say who broke away first.
They unpacked in silence.