Chapter Text
When Eugene didn't show up for he and Wednesday's usual afternoon meeting near the beehives, Wednesday initially hadn't thought too much of it.
He was most likely busy with other affairs, like homework, perhaps, or running various errands. Besides, Wednesday had ended up arriving a little late anyway due to mischievously and miraculously escaping Bianca Barclay's wrath after planting mousetraps beneath her desk, so maybe Eugene just got a little impatient and left. Not a big deal at all, really. Wednesday could handle missing one little meeting.
So yes — Wednesday's thoughts had been harmless ones, as she strayed away from the beekeeping shed that day. There was always tomorrow, after all.
And tomorrow did come.
But Eugene failed to make an appearance again, as Wednesday was met with nothing but the humming of bees when she entered the shed
Now that was strange.
If Eugene was to be missing meetings for a prolonged period of time, most likely more than once, he would of course notify Wednesday of the change in schedule. Eugene was satisfyingly efficient and thoughtful like that — something that Wednesday appreciated in allies.
But this time, there was nothing. Not a note, not a message, and certainly no face-to-face talking. There was absolutely nothing from him.
How peculiar.
So now, Wednesday, as she walked through the hallways leading to Ophelia Hall, thought about others that may know of the reason for Eugene's no-show.
...
Not many people.
Wednesday happened to be Eugene's only friend. After all, he used to be the only member of the Nevermore Hummers until Wednesday joined, and Wednesday has never really seen him converse with anyone apart from her. Poor Eugene barely had any friends — but even so, he seemed content enough with just himself and the bees.
But anyway, that gave her no one to ask. So that offered her little information on any possible reasons for why Eugene never arrived.
Finally, Wednesday was tugged from her thoughts when she found herself finally standing outside of the dorm room that she shares with none other than Enid Sinclair — another friend acquaintance of hers.
Her and Enid's relationship was complicated. Neither of them could ever exactly put it into words, and it seems that day after day their relationship morphed and changed, going back and forward, and never exactly reaching a solid state to discern. It was rocky and unpredictable. Enid could get upset with Wednesday after one of her dangerous outings and end up moving out of the dorm (only to eventually come back after proving a point), and Enid's vibrant colours and bad grammar could sometimes grate on Wednesday's nerves.
But still, that didn't make them drift apart, exactly.
So, whenever asked, Wednesday would simply respond with "she's my roommate."
Wednesday reached forward and gripped the handle, carefully opening the door and walking inside with a slow, elegant step. She could see her werewolf roommate already eyeing her in her peripheral vision, Wednesday swivelled around to then quietly shut the door behind her.
"You're back early," Wednesday heard Enid point out with a hint of surprise before Wednesday had even turned back around yet. "What happened to your meeting with Eugene?"
Wednesday turned away from the door, striding towards her side of the split-up room as she answered. "He failed to make his timely entrance once more, and the reasons escape me, much like his sense of punctuality." She murmured, as she approached her desk.
"Oh..." Enid muttered, trailing off as a frown began to pull on her features. Enid was never exactly close to Eugene — at least, not like Wednesday was — but she did seem to have a sort of fondness for the buzzy, geeky boy. Enid has spent time with him before anyway, when filling in for Wednesday when the goth girl couldn't make it. Eugene had asked her out to the Rave'N dance — and unfortunately for him, it had failed dismally. "Again? That's not like him."
"Indeed, such behaviour is quite uncharacteristic of him." Wednesday agreed, glancing down at the typewriter on her desk. She could try to squeeze in some writing time now, but...
Wednesday looked away from her typewriter, turning slightly to stare at Enid. "... You haven't laid eyes on him at all, have you?"
Enid shook her head helplessly with a sigh. "No, sorry." She apologised, for what reason Wednesday had no clue. She always wondered why some people apologised so much, even for things that they didn't really need to be sorry for. "But if I do see him, I'll tell him to talk to you. I'll ask around too, okay?"
Wednesday didn't speak of her internal appreciation, as she merely nodded, a little too stiffly for her liking. She was stiff, but not really stiff.
She then dragged her eyes away from the colourful werewolf, turning to glance at the wooden, decorated door again.
Hm...
Perhaps a little scour of the academy wouldn't hurt.
So, Wednesday began to walk back over to the door, a slight determination beginning to flare within her. "I am going to embark on a search for him." She announced, just to let Enid know as she grasped the cold metal handle yet again.
"Oh, okay." Enid nodded, but eyed Wednesday carefully, as if trying to get a glimpse of what may hide beneath her surface. Wednesday often caught Enid staring at her like that. She wondered why. "Good luck!"
Enid's call out to her was the last thing Wednesday heard, until she stepped out of their dorm and out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.
Time to start looking.
Wednesday can't find Eugene.
She's looked everywhere, asked so many people — which is very important, knowing how much she despises the presence of other living humans. Now, corpses are another story — but every attempt was fruitless. Eugene was nowhere to be seen, and it seems that no one had seen him either. The most recent sighting of him that she has heard had come from Xavier Thorpe, who claimed that the last time he saw him was yesterday when Eugene was leaving the academy to presumably go to the beekeeping shed — some time before Wednesday arrived.
Which then means that Eugene hasn't been seen in 24 hours.
As Wednesday walked through the corridors, she felt her gut twist uncomfortably, a sensation that was very unwelcome as Wednesday disliked... Feeling things. There was truly no need for things as vile and disgusting as emotion. They were merely a hindrance, a fault in the unrelenting engine of Wednesday Addams' mind, a fault that Wednesday promised herself she would be completely rid of very soon. There were only a select few of sensations that Wednesday liked. Being electrocuted is one of them. She's always enjoyed uncle Fester's electroconvulsive therapy. Far more effective than whatever Dr. Kinbott has going on.
As Wednesday walked, she spotted her often overly-joyful Botanical Sciences teacher, and self-proclaimed "dorm mom" — Marilyn Thornhill — walking towards Wednesday from the opposite end of the corridor.
Wednesday would have walked straight past her like a ghost on any normal day, but seeing how Miss. Thornhill's unusually tense expression melted into relief at the sight of Wednesday, Wednesday made a decision to pause in her steps.
"Wednesday, oh, goodness, I've been looking everywhere for you!" Miss. Thornhill chuckled, leaning back a little as she smiled, letting out a big huff of relief. "I actually wanted to speak with you about something regarding Eugene Ottinger. You are friends with him, right?"
As soon as Miss. Thornhill mentioned Eugene, Wednesday perked up, her eyes glinting with curiosity as all her attention turned to focus on Miss. Thornhill's words — a rare occurrence indeed. "Correct, I am. Proceed." She nodded as a gesture for her to continue, folding her hands together.
"Ah, good." Miss. Thornhill nodded in satisfaction at her response. "I was just wondering if you've seen him anywhere, because for some strange reason unknown to me, he didn't arrive at my class today — and from what I've heard from the other teachers, no classes, for that matter — which is very unlike him. Is he doing alright?" She asked, her eyebrows knitting together in what looked like worry.
As soon as Miss. Thornhill asked Wednesday if she knew where Eugene was, Wednesday felt the knot in her stomach twist tighter, her folded hands gripping each other harder now.
She didn't like it.
"... No, I have not." Wednesday finally responded, after a brief silence. She watched quietly as Miss. Thornhill's expression grew more concerned. "According to Xavier, he was last seen venturing toward his beekeeping shed yesterday afternoon, and he hasn't been spotted since."
"Yesterday afternoon?" Miss. Thornhill echoed with a soft gasp. "More than twenty-four hours... We may have to report this to the police, Wednesday." Miss. Thornhill murmured, eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to search Wednesday's eyes for something — making Wednesday want to recoil and bolt down the opposite end of the hallway. Wednesday didn't like being examined — she'd rather be the one examining.
"I'll do it." Wednesday replied quickly, knowing that she'd do a better job than Miss. Thornhill at properly providing any possible details to the Sheriff.
...Oh.
The Sheriff.
...The Sheriff doesn't... Exactly like Wednesday.
Maybe because she blew up a statue in Jericho. Or maybe there are other reasons. Wednesday wouldn't be surprised if there were.
But whatever. Wednesday isn't scared of the Sheriff. If anything, the Sheriff should be afraid of her. Wednesday will relish in the time where that comes.
"Okay... Yes, okay," Miss. Thornhill nodded, mostly to herself as if steeling herself for their gravity of the situation. "You go do that, and I'll go tell Larissa—I mean, the headmistress," Miss. Thornhill stammered, stumbling over her words. Wednesday stopped herself from raising an unimpressed brow. "Alright?"
Wednesday merely nodded professionally, and Miss. Thornhill swallowed, offering a supportive smile before starting down the corridor towards Principal Weems' office.
Wednesday turned around as Miss. Thornhill walked past her, watching her leave with hurried steps.
Slowly, reality settled in for Wednesday.
A police report.
A missing persons report.
For Eugene Ottinger.
One of her friends most loyal acquaintances.
Wednesday watched as Miss. Thornhill disappeared around the corner, but just as Wednesday was about to move to take her own exit to head over to the police station, an eerie voice jolted her out of her thoughts.
"They're never gonna find him."
Wednesday froze for a few moments, trying to find someone in her memory that matched the voice, before coming out with nothing. So, to check, she carefully turned around. Not too fast to prompt the idea that she may have been startled, but not too slow to make it look like she wasn't at least a little curious. As she turned her body to face the other end of the hallway, she saw none other than Rowan Laslow standing stiffly at the other end.
...
Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, her dark, almost black eyes narrowing as she stared at the unmoving boy at the other end of the hall, staring at her through his foggy glasses. ".. Excuse me?"
Rowan smiled anxiously, his shiny white teeth showing from behind his lips. His eyes appeared to be erratic and strange, and his smile looked forced, the same way he seemed to look eternally on-edge, but in a different way this time. "I know you heard me, Addams. They won't find him." He repeated, voice lowering to something that almost felt like a snake's hiss, a whisper carried by the dimly lit corridor. There was a gleam in his eyes that made Wednesday's uncomfortable unease stir like a snake coiled within her, squeezing that little bit tighter. He looked different — more rattled than usual, as though there were some dark, seething knowledge he was harboring just beneath the surface.
Wednesday's fingers twitched, longing for something she could snap to pull him out of his pathetic, practically entranced state that she could see in his gaze. But she stayed put, as she often did. She prided herself on her self-control. "What are you talking about? Is there something you know about Eugene's disappearance that you're choosing not to disclose?" She questioned, tone sharp as a blade.
Instead of answering, Rowan chose to ignore her, his eye twitching and his pupils darting around the space surrounding them in an erratic manner. "Welcome to the nightmare end of your pathetic little life," he chuckled raspily, a low, wheezing sound — though there was no humour in it whatsoever. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards with an anxious pull. "It's all over."
Wednesday opened her mouth to speak again, to interrogate Rowan and get through his ominous remarks, but just as she did so, he stepped backwards, his nervous smile falling and giving way to something darker, and more scared.
For a moment, all time seemed to freeze, as the two merely stared at each other from opposite ends of the hallway.
Rowan then took a few steps back, before walking down the other end of the hallway until he was completely out of sight.
Wednesday's body twitched forward for a moment, about to go after him and demand answers — but instead, she hesitated.
...
...No. That can wait. Wednesday has other things to attend to.
Wednesday turned around, swallowing down a sigh, as she stormed down the hallway to get out of Nevermore and find Sheriff Galpin.
As the early evening light cast long, haunting shadows over the town, Wednesday made her way to the Sheriff's station with purpose etched into every step.
Her steps were not mere steps, though — they were long, meaningful strides, each one made with Eugene in mind. She tried to keep her unsettling interaction with Rowan out of mind, but it was difficult with how quickly her mind seemed to be racing, mulling over each and every possible detail in case she missed anything.
What did Rowan mean when he said that Eugene would never be found? That wasn't just blatant insolence and pessimism — Rowan worded it like he knew things. Things that Wednesday, and everybody else, clearly did not.
Wednesday made a mental note to speak to Rowan after going to the Sheriff's station.
The comforting chill in the air matched the cold resolve swirling in her mind, and as she approached the station’s entrance, she could already see Sheriff Donovan Galpin through the glass, sitting at his desk with a stern expression as he poured over paperwork.
She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Pleasantries and small talk about the weather and the like are for the weak.
Swinging the station’s door open, Wednesday’s boots echoed sharply as she strode up to his desk, her creepy, unblinking gaze fixed on the Sheriff.
As she entered, various eyes followed her. Workers at the station watched as she entered, whispers about her being a troublemaker outcast from Nevermore carrying over the air. But Wednesday didn't care — the feeble opinions of others didn't serve any purpose to her.
Wednesday watched with pride in herself as the Sheriff's eyes closed for a moment, his body tensing with annoyance and exasperation, before opening his eyes and letting out a small sigh.
"Something I can help you with, Miss Addams?" he asked gruffly, not even looking up.
"Yes." Wednesday answered quickly, ignoring the Sheriff's blatant unhappiness to see her. "One of my... acquaintances has gone missing," she replied evenly. "Eugene Ottinger. He was last seen leaving the academy yesterday afternoon, but he hasn’t been seen since. And from what I can tell, he most likely never made it to his intended destination."
At that, the Sheriff finally lifted his head, studying her with a slightly sceptical look. "And you're sure he's not just off somewhere avoiding his homework like a normal teenager?"
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, as she crossed her arms. "Eugene would never disappear without notifying me. He values structure and reliability, unlike most of the other miscreants you tend to deal with."
Sheriff Galpin sighed, his expression softening just a fraction — with concern or exasperation, it was unclear, but it was definitely far more likely to be the latter. "Fine. Let’s take this to a more private room, so I can ask you a few questions, alright?"
Wednesday nodded, a slight glimmer of hope and triumph blooming in her chest as she took a step back, watching as he stood up out of his chair and grabbed a notepad, before moving past Wednesday and beckoning her to follow.
He led her to a small, bare interrogation room at the back of the station, with walls painted a stale, lifeless gray and a single table illuminated by a flickering fluorescent light above. It was like the stereotypical kind of room you'd see in a movie, and Wednesday repressed a scoff and a shake of her head.
Instead, Wednesday merely moved with her usual air of quiet elegance and grace, as she took a seat on the opposite side, folding her hands on the table as the Sheriff settled in.
He set his notepad out in front of him, and positioned his pen, prepared to write anything note-worthy. "Alright, go on."
"Eugene was supposed to meet me near the beekeeping shed yesterday afternoon for our club meeting, as he does regularly," she began immediately after his signal, her voice crisp and devoid of emotion. "Though admittedly, I was rather late. I arrived, but he was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he had left earlier due to my late arrival. But today, I had arrived earlier for compensation of being late yesterday — I arrived at twelve-fifty pm today, and waited, but he never arrived — he missed another meeting. And that is highly unlike him."
"And have you asked if anyone else has seen him?"
"I have, I asked around today after not seeing him at the meeting again today. I asked many people in the academy, and the most recent time someone seemed to have seen him is yesterday at around twelve-forty-seven pm, leaving the building to go out into the forest, presumably to the beekeeping shed for our meeting as he tends to get there early by choice. I arrived later at one-twenty-five pm." Wednesday answered in detail, her expression monotone as ever as she spoke.
"And what is the name of the person or people to have last seen Eugene?"
"Xavier Thorpe was the last, nobody else."
Wednesday watched as the Sheriff bit his lip in thought as he jotted down various notes, before speaking again. "Did he mention anything unusual to you recently? Maybe someone or something that was bothering him?"
Wednesday shook her head. "No. Eugene rarely interacts with anyone other than me, and his life is as ordinary as his fascination with honeybees." She said, her jab at Eugene practically instinctive, and she even found herself slightly regretting saying that about her... Acquaintance.
The Sheriff made a note on a small pad in front of him. "And you have absolutely no idea where he might have gone?"
"None. If I did, I wouldn’t be here wasting my time," she replied coolly, earning an unimpressed raised eyebrow from him. "The only possible clue I have is a cryptic comment from Rowan Laslow, who seemed almost... certain that Eugene will never be found. He implied that some force beyond our understanding is at play."
Sheriff Galpin's eyes narrowed, as he scribbled down notes onto the paper. "Rowan, huh? And how do you spell that last name?"
"L-A-S-L-O-W," Wednesday answered, spelling out the letters for him.
"Got it," the Sheriff nodded, his pen gliding across the paper in rhythm with Wednesday's words. "Anything else?"
"Rowan seemed particularly unhinged," Wednesday added. "Though, being honest, that's not an unusual state for him. But if there’s anything you’ve missed, Sheriff, I can assure you that I’ll find it myself."
The Sheriff put down his pen, looking at her with a mix of amusement and exasperation. But mostly exasperation. "Look, Wednesday, I appreciate your..." He paused, struggling to find a word for what he was trying to say. "... Passion for all this, but leave the investigation to the professionals. And as soon as we find anything—if we find anything—you’ll be the first to know." He promised, but Wednesday could practically feel the lie she detected in that last sentence.
Wednesday didn't respond.
He dismissed her with a slight nod, and Wednesday rose, pushing her chair back with a single, measured motion before striding toward the door.
She planned on heading straight back to the academy to ask Miss. Thornhill how her talk with Principal Weems went — but as she opened it, she nearly collided with Tyler Galpin — the Sheriff's son and the barista at the Weathervane Café.
Wednesday and Tyler's relationship, like her and Enid's, is complicated. When Wednesday first met him, his coffee machine had busted out and she fixed it for him, before asking him to drive her out of Jericho so she could escape from Nevermore. He also watched her take down three boys their age all by herself with mastered martial arts skills she was taught by her uncle Fester — but Principal Weems had eventually found her — (as Wednesday had escaped therapy... Long story) — and dragged her off before Tyler could fulfill his promise on driving Wednesday away.
Then, they met up at the Harvest Festival Fair in another scheme to drive Wednesday away from Nevermore. Wednesday had managed to sneak away from Principal Weems, but then, they were chased down by the trio of pilgrim boys that Wednesday had beaten up by herself back at the Weathervane. When they had finally escaped them, they ran into yet another obstacle — Principal Weems. Wednesday was taken away yet again, and after that, Wednesday was too preoccupied with other things — for example, the Poe Cup — to plot escape plans anymore. So Tyler and Wednesday didn't talk much anymore apart from their run-ins out in Jericho.
Tyler had clearly been waiting just outside, his gaze brightening with mild curiosity as he took in the scene, clearly not exactly expecting Wednesday to be the one to step out of the interrogation room.
"Wednesday," he greeted with a small, breathy chuckle, stepping back a few times to give Wednesday space so she could shut the door properly behind her. "Uh.. What’s going on?"
She regarded him for a moment, weighing whether or not to involve him. But Tyler had proven himself useful in the past, and considering that, from what she's heard, he's the Sheriff's son — he could be even more of use to her in the future.
"Eugene has gone missing," she said, the words simple yet carrying a weight that she hoped Tyler didn't detect.
"..."
"... Oh," Tyler muttered in response after a bit of silence, as if unsure what exactly to say. "...Uh, sorry if this sounds rude, but... Who's... 'Eugene'...?"
Wednesday resisted a sigh, as she began to explain. "Eugene Ottinger, a boy from Nevermore. He is my... Acquaintance." She elucidated, ignoring how Tyler raised a brow at her wording. "The last sighting of him was yesterday afternoon, and I believe the Sheriff is less committed to finding him than he claims."
Tyler's gaze flicked briefly to the door where his father lurked inside the interrogation room before turning back to her. "Look, I know my dad can be a little... set in his ways. But I’ll keep an eye on what he’s doing. If I hear anything useful, I’ll let you know and keep you updated, okay?"
She watched him, assessing the sincerity in his eyes. As she searched his eyes, examining them in case of even a brief flicker of faux sincerity, she found nothing to give the impression that he isn't telling the truth.
Wednesday kept her arms crossed, her gaze flitting to the side before back to Tyler. "Good. Make sure you follow through."
He offered a faint smile, holding her gaze just a beat longer than necessary. "Hey, anything for a friend."
Wednesday tilted her head, her eyes sharp and calculating after hearing him call her a 'friend'. Wednesday thought it unwise to give someone such a meaningful label when, in Wednesday's opinion, they barely know each other. But Wednesday didn't protest.
With a small nod, she turned and made her way out of the station, letting the chill of the late evening air wash over her. Behind her, she could feel Tyler’s gaze lingering, his curiosity and intrigue trailing her until the shadows swallowed her figure.
For now, she would play this as patiently as she could, gathering clues and watching for signs. But if the Sheriff and his team were unwilling or incapable of doing their jobs, she would have no qualms taking matters into her own hands.
And whoever had dared to cross her would soon learn—Eugene's disappearance would not go unanswered.