Chapter 1: Outcast Among Outcasts
Chapter Text
Tyler was used to being met by fear. Frightened expressions and shocked gasps were everyday fare. Not even his father had been able to hide how scared he was, letting worry and disgust shine through every time he looked at his son. Tyler's early memories were shaded by that gaze, judging him way before he deserved to be judged.
So the reactions from the students at Nevermore Academy when he walked through the gates were nothing new. He saw them ducking behind bannisters and tables, scared he would attack. He smelled their fear as they trembled at the mere sight of him. He heard their whispers in the shadows. "Is that the Hyde?" they asked. "What is he doing here?" they wondered.
In the middle of the foyer, he stopped, glaring at the cowards from underneath unkempt curls. Their fear was nothing to him. He thrived on it. He certainly wasn't scared of them, their chuckles, and their cliques. He was scared of nothing anymore, because he'd already lost everything.
"Come on, Tyler," Capri urged him, holding the door to her office open. "No need to dilly dally."
With a last sneer toward the spectators on the stairs above, he quickened his step, escaping the looks and whispers.
"They'll come around eventually," Capri assured him, closing the door behind them. "There will, of course, be a bit of a learning curve for everyone to have you and the other rehabilitating students around, but I believe that by the end of the semester, everyone will understand the benefits of my program. Because I believe all outcasts should be included and given a chance at an education."
"Even the lost causes," Tyler muttered, inspecting the room he's been brought into. It certainly fit the gothic aesthetic of the school, with dark wood furniture crafted in another century, chandeliers that swayed in the slight draft from the windows, and a crackling fireplace resembling the mouth of a screaming giant.
"I don't believe there to be any lost causes," the principal stated with conviction in her voice. "There are only misunderstood and abused outcasts or ones that haven't been able to control their power."
"What am I?" he asked, lifting a wolf figurine from the desk and twirling it carelessly in the air.
Capri snatched the wolf statue from his grip. "You are what you want to be, Tyler," she proclaimed. "Your past does not define you."
"Tell that to the people out there..." He nodded toward the staircase outside. He could still hear the whispers through the door. "I knew this was a bad idea."
"Tell that to yourself. If you believe it, others will believe it too." She took a seat behind the big desk at the end of the room, which appeared to swallow her whole. "Sit down, and we will go through the conditions of your enrollment here."
Tyler did as he was told. Years of obeying masters made it difficult for him to rebel. He sat down on a chair opposite the desk. His stance was tentative, balancing on the edge of the seat rather than sinking into it. If anything seemed amiss about the arrangements, he was ready to bail. Where he didn't know, but anywhere away from the fearsome gasps at the sight of him.
"These are the rules all students need to abide by," Capri started, putting a paper with bullet points in front of Tyler. "And these are the additional rules for students in the rehabilitation program."
"You don't trust us?" he spat out, putting his hands on the armrest as he prepared to get the heck out of there. He didn't need more rules and chains.
"I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't trust you," Capri replied, her soothing British lilt making him lean back in his seat again. "But the other students need to learn to trust you as well. It will take time, and some guidelines for your interactions with them may be a good start."
Tyler snatched the paper from the desk, scanning the rules he would have to agree to.
"You will all live in your own dorm, and there will be a curfew between 10 pm and 6 am every day." It seemed Capri didn't trust his reading abilities as she started to recap the list.
"We'll be locked in?" His chest went tight as he remembered the clicks of the locks at the asylum.
The principal shook her head, red curls rustling against her blazer. "It will be on a trust basis," she assured him. "But if you are reported to be outside the dorms at night, there will be immediate repercussions. And the same goes for if you miss classes."
Tyler nodded, still reading through the list. He supposed the rules made sense, and it wasn't like anyone would want to hang out with him after school hours anyway. It may be nice to get eight hours of respite from the frightened looks.
"You'll of course wear the school's uniform." A neat pile of folded clothes appeared on the desk, making Tyler wonder if Capri had a stock of them underneath. There were pants, button-downs, blazers, and ties. "If they don't fit, the school has a seamstress who can adjust them for you."
A whiff of lilac-scented fabric softener tickled his nose when he lifted the pile from the desk. The plaid fabric of the blazer was smooth against his fingers, making him briefly remember gently touching a shoulder clad in it before diving in for a kiss. He pushed the memory away before it could hurt him. He would truly look like one of them now, even if they wouldn't accept him. "I'm sure they'll be fine," he mumbled, wondering if the seamstress would be able to mend items ripped if his inner Hyde broke loose.
"And there are also these." A pair of metal cuffs clanked onto the desk. Capri looked wide-eyed at Tyler, waiting for him to react.
"You said no more chains," he growled, because that's what she'd promised him when he'd left the Hyde tribe to come with her to Nevermore. She'd promised him freedom and community. He'd agreed for those reasons and more.
"These are not chains," she explained, showcasing one of the circular objects to him. "The cuffs will pick up your position at all times and also monitor your vitals, so that we can catch any signs of you transforming, which would put your fellow students at risk."
"Sounds a lot like chains to me." Tyler rose, picking up the remaining cuff. He didn't possess the full strength of the Hyde in his human form, but if he wanted to, the metal would be easily squashed between his fingers.
"It's for your own safety," Capri argued in vain. "So that you won't get accused of anything. If that happens, I can check your records."
"But you won't check the data otherwise?" he asked, bouncing the cuff against the desk.
"I won't, I promise."
He wasn't sure he believed her. He wanted to, but he'd believed in maternal figures before and been let down.
Holding up the metal ring to the light, he inspected the construction. "There are no... shock effects involved?" he asked cautiously, remembering the collar they put on him to hinder his transformations.
"No shocks or other punishment. It's only a safety measurement. And you can remove them at any time."
He exhaled, giving in because any other decision meant giving up. "I suppose I have no other option," he said, unclasping the lock and threading the ring across his left wrist before snatching the remaining cuff out of Capri's grip. After donning that device as well, he declared, "Done," and held up both hands in the air in an act of surrender.
"I'm glad you agree to follow our rules. I understand it will be a lot for you to begin with, but I'm assured you will acclimatise shortly."
Tyler scoffed. He wasn't as sure as she was. He didn't believe he would ever be one of them. But except for with the tribe, he would be an outcast anywhere he went. Here, he would at least be an outcast among outcasts.
"Are we done here?" he asked, tired of having rules dictated to him.
She nodded, lighting up into an encouraging smile. He didn't return it. He didn't remember the last time he smiled. "Let's go meet your mentor, a fellow student who will show you around and act as a support system for you. He'll start by showing you to the dorms."
Great, another babysitter. "Sounds lovely..." Tyler muttered.
Walking ahead of him, Capri held the door open. She nodded toward someone waiting outside. "I'll be with you shortly, Miss Sinclair," she said. "And we'll go through the conditions of the rehabilitation program."
Peaking outside, Tyler spotted familiar streaks of rainbow-colored hair. She didn't acknowledge him, staring at the floor as if she was ashamed of being there. What could Enid possibly have done to end up in the lost cause program along with him?
When she lifted her gaze, she gaped widely as she recognized him. "Tyler..." she growled, her werewolf side making itself known. "What are you doing here? It's your damn fault I'm ever here!"
When claws came out, ready to slice him into beef stew, Capri ushered Enid into her office. "I'll check on you later, Mr Galpin," she assured him with a hand on his shoulder. "Your mentor should be here shortly."
Not quite knowing what to do or how to act, Tyler surveyed the staircase around him. He could smell a couple of students hiding behind the bannister. Brave enough not to run at the sight of him, but not brave enough to face him. They smelled of beeswax and roadkill. He knew who they were. They'd both been victims of his crimes. He'd spared them, but not on purpose.
As he approached their hiding place, hurried steps echoed as the boys skittered across the thick carpet. He supposed it would only be a matter of time before she—the one who'd spared him, on purpose or not—would be told of his arrival.
Chapter 2: A Familiar Task
Chapter Text
The door to the dorm room creaked open, like everything else at this school it originated in another century, and it showed. Tyler looked cautiously at the bars across the windows.
"Those are not for you," Ajax, the daft snakehead who Tyler had been assigned as mentor, noted. If even he could read Tyler like an open book, then he truly must be wearing his emotions on his sleeve. "I mean, they were here before the school was. Some rich bloke built this castle long ago, and I guess this wing was prison cells or something like that. He was up to some crazy shit."
"Lovely..." Tyler mumbled, going up to the window to shake the bars. They were rigid, but if necessary, he could break them, or at least his Hyde could. "So Capri decided this was the perfect place for us lost causes then. A prison to keep the monsters locked in at night."
Ajax shrugged, looking as clueless as ever. His eyes darted toward the door, as if he didn't like Tyler standing between him and it.
"You're scared of me," he noted, sitting down on the bed to ensure Ajax had an escape route.
"I'm not..." Ajax mumbled, moving toward the door while still keeping his eyes peeled on Tyler. His actions spoke louder than his words.
"You are," Tyler concluded. "It's alright. Everyone is." He leaned against the wall behind the bed, feeling something akin to peace as he looked around his room. It wasn't much. A bed. A desk. A wardrobe. Musty walls and damp floors. But it was the closest he'd had to a home in a long while.
"I'm not scared of you," Ajax bravely repeated from the doorway. "I'm afraid of the Hyde. I've seen it before. It's terrifying."
"Well, I am the Hyde. So I guess I'm terrifying then."
Ajax didn't respond, looking confused by the logic. It didn't seem to be his forte to think beyond the obvious.
"You could just turn me into stone if I attacked." Tyler nodded toward Ajax's head, where the petrifying snakes hid.
"I need to be quick enough for that, though. I mean, I tried it last year, it... you... got away."
"Well, I'm not the Hyde right now, so you should be safe." Tyler rose, impatiently roaming around the small room.
"Capri left you some stuff in the drawers." Ajax nodded toward the dresser by the bed.
Pulling out the drawers, Tyler found some neatly folded T-shirts and even unopened packs of underwear and socks. Someone was taking their maternal duties a bit too seriously. Although, except for the jeans and green hoodie he was wearing, he didn't own any clothes to wear outside of school. Opening the wardrobe, he also found more hoodies and jeans, along with a few muted colored flannels.
Only pull the trigger when you're sure you won't miss.
Donovan's voice echoed in his head, brought forward by the plaid fabric. That's what they had always worn when going deer hunting together. Those were the only times when his father didn't seem scared of him.
"Tyler... are you alright?" Ajax's voice jolted Tyler back to the dorm room. He found himself clasping red-and-black plaid fabric, his hand shaking in anger.
"I'm fine," Tyler growled, making Ajax jump backward. He turned swiftly, accidentally tearing a piece off the sleeve of the flannel. Ajax held up his hands in surrender, afraid he'd poked the Hyde lurking underneath. Apparently, it hadn't crossed his mind to instead pull off his hat to defend himself through the snakes.
"I'm not going to attack." Tyler sighed, swallowing the bitterness in his throat that rose every time he thought of his father. While he was used to being met with fear, it did get tiring at times. He fingered the cuff around his wrist, supposed to assure students of his trustworthiness. They didn't seem to do their job so far.
Ajax nodded, but his frightened gaze betrayed that he didn't quite believe Tyler's word. "I'm not afraid," he mumbled, while exuding fear from every pore. He took a deep breath, pulling down his hat to assure himself the snakes were still there.
"We should get going, though, can't be late for your first day at work."
"Work?"
"Yeah, didn't Capri tell you all students in the rehabilitation program will be given jobs on campus to integrate with the rest of the students?
Tyler shook his head. "She may have failed to mention that part..."
Closing the wardrobe door, Tyler's gaze fell on something on the windowsill behind it. To most people, it may seem like nothing but trash, but to him, it had a hidden meaning. A wilted black rose was left behind, almost crumbling in his hands when he picked it up. His grip was tender as he inspected the item. Was it a gift to wish him welcome?
"Are you coming?" Ajax wondered from the hallway.
"Right there with you," Tyler mumbled, quickly shuffling the flower into a desk drawer for a keepsake. He would take a closer look at it later.
A brisk walk down winding stairs later, Tyler stared in disbelief at his new workplace. The smell was all too familiar, overwhelming his senses and overloading his memory bank. There were awful memories of she who had controlled him and enchanting memories of she who had cut his chains, all mixed together in one weird brew.
"The freaking coffee wagon?" He exclaimed. "That's where you want me to work?"
“Yeah,” Ajax shrugged, clueless of Tyler’s inner turmoil. He banged the side of the wagon, making the neon sign reading The Telltale Cafe blink precariously. “I guess Capri figured a familiar task may help you acclimatize." He picked up two purple aprons from behind the counter, throwing one toward Tyler. “It may be you showing me the ropes instead of the other way around here,” he chuckled.
Shaking his head, Tyler looked down at the purple fabric. At least it was a different color than the red ones of the Weatherwane.
Chapter 3: A Subpar Barista With Generic Looks
Chapter Text
he plumes of fume from the uncooperative espresso machine rose higher as the line of students grew longer. Ajax had left to get more coffee beans from the storage room, so Tyler was on his own.
"Why don't you Hyde out to fix the issue?" someone yelled from the courtyard. Snickers followed.
"Give me a few minutes... if everyone just gets out of here!" Tyler snapped, banging his hands on the machine. The line dispersed, perhaps fearful he would in fact turn into his dark self.
A growl rose from his throat as he looked at the offending machine. The sound made the few customers still lingering nearby skitter away. At least he had some peace and quiet to solve the problem now.
It had to be the valve, just like at the Weatherwane. Tyler lifted the lid off the steaming machine, looking down at a maze of pipes. If he could only remember where that valve was... He searched his memory, scrambled from untrue words planted by she who used him for her bidding. His mind was a blood-soaked haze, where truth and lie blended together. The tribe had taught him techniques to separate reality from dream, but around traumatic moments, the line still blurred, and details were lost in the fog.
"It's the one to the left." Her voice, he'd never forgotten. The coffee beans had disguised her distinct scent of newly fallen snow and impending darkness, which seemed to linger in every corner of the school.
He'd known she'd be here. But still, he wasn't prepared for this encounter.
Kill...
He inhaled, stilling the voice in his head. He was in control of it now. He was his own master. Instead, he focused on the valve, turning the metal to tighten it while counting down from ten to calm himself.
It worked. The fume dispersed, and the machine cooperated once again.
When the smoke fell, he saw her. Black braids, dark lips, unflappable demeanor.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
The voices in his head went haywire. So many layers of instructions to tune out his own will. He barely knew what lay beyond the echoes from the masters anymore. He knew Wednesday meant something to him, a lot even, but he didn't know whether as a foe or friend. Hate and love appeared indistinguishable from each other.
"I see you're back at your true calling," she quipped, not even recognizing his presence as something out of the ordinary. "The barista apron suits you."
He scoffed in reply, looking down at the purple cloth around his waist as he chased away the intrusive thoughts. Wednesday Addams didn't control him. She was just any other student.
"I thought I was only a subpar barista," he retorted, daring to meet her eyes as he challenged her previous statement. "With generic looks to boot."
"I lied," she replied, subtly lifting an eyebrow at the reference to the words she told him in the asylum. Words that were meant to hurt. "Now... what do I have to do to make you showcase those amazing barista skills?"
She failed to address whether her lie was only about his barista skills or also about his appearance. As he tried to gauge whether she was looking at him, perhaps grading his looks on a scale, he caught her gaze. Was there a hint of a smile, or was he imagining things? It wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him. Determined not to get caught in games he didn't master, Tyler clanked his hands on the now-working espresso machine. "You want your usual?"
She raised her other eyebrow, perhaps surprised he remembered. Admittedly, there was a lot of stuff he'd forgotten from that time, and a lot of stuff he did remember that he'd rather forget, but not her, not her order at the Weatherwane.
"Two pumps of espresso," he said. "The darkest brew."
"No milk, no sugar," she filled in, wrinkling her nose in disgust at such frills.
"No milk, no sugar," he repeated, sliding her already poured cup across the counter. He, if anyone, knew not to serve sweet delights to Wednesday Addams.
She grabbed the cup, letting her gaze linger on the cuff around his wrist, which had become visible underneath his shirt sleeve.
"You're back in shackles as well," she noted. "Suits you."
He sighed, pulling down his sleeves to cover the metal around his wrists. "It's part of the deal with Capri," he said. "I agreed to wear them."
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head. "I figured you were done with chains by now."
"It's for my own safety as much as everyone else's, so I won't be accused of anything. If I want a chance at a future, it's what I need to do."
She cocked her head the other way. "Do you have a future, Tyler? I thought Hydes burned bright and brief."
No hesitation. Straight for the jugular. As was her style.
"I guess that's what I get for trying to beat the odds," he muttered, suddenly very interested in a stain on his apron.
"No offense, I enjoy doomed fates. Romeo and Juliet. Eurydice and Orpheus. Frankenstein. All the good stories end with tragic early demises." She took a sip of her coffee. Did he imagine a spark in her eye as the brew tasted just right?
She turned on her heel, getting ready to leave. He couldn't let her. "Wednesday," he murmured. "Can you just tell me one thing?"
She spun back. "Depends what the thing is."
He lowered his voice, making sure only she heard his query. "Why did you save me?"
"I told you I missed," she insisted.
"You never miss."
"Neither do you, and yet I didn't die in that asylum."
She turned to leave again. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to ask her so much more. But the words got stuck in his throat, overwhelmed by the lingering voices.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
"Shut up," he yelled, banging his hands against his temples. The outburst caused a communal gasp across the courtyard, causing the gathered students to flee into staircases and walkways. Everyone but Wednesday Addams, who just kept walking while sipping on her coffee.
Tyler slumped down on the floor of the coffee van, escaping the sight of her to silence the voices. Draping a towel over the back of his head, he cut out the noise and judgment from outside as he tried to center himself.
"I guess I shouldn't have left you during rush hour," Ajax noted as he returned, slamming a crate of coffee beans down on the counter. "You look like you need a break."
Chapter 4: It Was The Damn Espresso Machine
Chapter Text
“I heard you had an outburst in the courtyard this morning.” Capri looked down at her laptop screen, where she undoubtedly had pages upon pages of records on Tyler Isaac Galpin already, given to her by the high school he was expelled from before his monstrous nature was revealed and the mental asylum he was brought to afterward.
“Who told you that?” he muttered, displeased to be called to the principal’s office on his first day of school. He’d hoped it would at least be a week. “Was it the snakehead who tattled?”
“Tyler.” Capri sighed, closing her laptop. “I could literally hear you screaming from my office.”
Oops.
“But I had a couple of students report it to me as well,” she continued. “They were afraid you were going to turn into a Hyde right in front of them.”
“The damn espresso machine just wouldn’t work. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” That had just a convenient side effect.
“I’ll have someone take a look at that for you. But if the job at the Telltale Cafe is too stressful for you, Tyler, I can place you somewhere else.”
Tyler shook his head. While he’d never liked working at the Weatherwave—it was just the only place his dad could convince to give him employment after he got back from bootcamp—being a barista was at least something he was decent at. The orders were familiar. The smells were comforting. The customers were the same every morning.
So perhaps she would be there again.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
Tyler palmed his forehead, inhaling deeply to chase away the intrusive thoughts. He didn’t have to obey anyone anymore, but the orders wouldn’t stop ringing, with no care for time and place. It was as if they were imprinted in his brain forever. The techniques he’d learned from the tribe made them fainter, but nothing seemed to be able to erase them.
“Are you alright, Tyler?” Capri asked him.
If only people would stop asking him that. Alright was not a state he recognized anymore. He couldn’t even imagine it. But still, he nodded in reply to her question, attempting a brave face to hide the mess behind it.
“I can keep you at the coffee wagon for now, but if I get any more reports of untoward behaviour, I may have to transfer you.” She picked up a bunch of papers depicting graphs and numbers from her desk. “I’m also a bit concerned about the data from your monitoring devices at the time. There seems to have been a prolonged spike in heart activity this morning.”
“You told me you wouldn’t look at those,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“Only if necessary is what I told you, and the reports of your outburst made it seem necessary to me. I can’t have a Hyde running around on campus.”
“I wasn’t about to transform, if that’s what you think. I can control it.”
He was quite sure of it at least. It had been many months since he’d last taken his Hyde form. He knew the signs of transformation, and he knew how to stop it. If he noticed in time, at least.
“So what warranted these spikes in heart rate then?”
“I told you, it was the damn broken espresso machine.”
She gave him a long look, as if looking right through him. She knew there was another answer. One he wouldn’t admit to. “If you say so,” Capri finally conceded. “I guess we just need to make sure that machine works properly going forward, and I won’t see any more spikes like this.”
Tyler was about to protest, to tell her to keep the hell away from his spiking heart rate caused by a certain customer. But he knew that if he appeared uncooperative, he might not serve any more morning coffee. “Are we done here?” he asked, rising to indicate that he certainly was finished with this discussion.
“You can go,” Capri agreed.
Tyler was out of there in mere seconds. When he heard the thick wooden door close behind him, he ripped off the cuffs from both wrists, crinkling them like a soda can in his palm. The noise was very satisfying. He was done with chains and surveillance, done with people meddling in his business, and done with people reading his emotions.
If Capri asked, he would tell her the damn espresso machine mangled the cuffs when he tried to tame it.
Chapter 5: K-Pop and Claws
Chapter Text
Carrying a plate filled with microwave pizza, Tyler made his way toward the common room. It was after curfew, and he should probably be in bed, but since he harboured the combined caloric needs of a teenage boy and a monster, a nighttime snack was a must. Luckily, Capri had made sure the dorm wing reserved for the Lost Cause program was equipped with a well-stocked pantry.
He didn't think before entering the room. He figured everyone else was already asleep at this hour. So he didn't notice the peppy music filling the room or the purple and pink streaks of hair on the girl curled up on the couch. Not before it was too late. When he swiftly tried to turn, she had already spotted him.
"Tyler Galpin! Come back here!" Enid yelled, bouncing behind him to prevent his escape. At least she didn't appear to be scared of him, which was a rare occurrence these days. Perhaps the fact that she had once bested him in a fight made her confident she could do it again.
Ever since their encounter on the first day, he'd managed to avoid her, walking the other way when she approached or hiding in his room when the other students socialized. He'd actually done his homework, since he lacked other activities to amuse himself with in his self-chosen seclusion.
"Can you please just let me be?" he mumbled, holding his pizza up high enough in the air so the peppy werewolf couldn't reach it because he wouldn't put it past her to pettily snatch it out of his grasp.
Rainbow-colored claws whisked by. Tyler jumped backward to avoid them, narrowly avoiding dropping the pizza on the ground. "You fucking left her there! Buried alive. How could you do that?" She pointed her claws at his jugular.
He'd asked himself that very question many times. But his orders had been to obey his uncle, and breaking those chains had been impossible. Tyler was compelled to obey his master at every turn; that was the life of a Hyde. But he didn't have to tell them everything.
Tyler had not told Isaac about the scent of bubblegum and liquorice in the air that night.
"I had no choice," he retorted, trying to sneak past Enid to end the discussion. Colorful claws stopped him on both sides, locking him against the wall. While he didn't believe she was cold enough to actually use them on him, because Enid was not a monster like him, he didn't trust her not to slip in her agitated state. And he had enough scars already.
"Wednesday could have died. I had to wolf out to be able to dig her up in time. I was stuck as a wolf for months after that, unable to turn back."
"Then you know what it's like," he retorted. "To be a monster. To have no control."
"I'm not like you, Tyler."
"So why are you here then? We're both lost causes as far as I can tell."
"I killed a man," she confessed, her voice suddenly teary. The claws dropped, removing the treat. Stunned from the revelation, Tyler still didn't move from the wall. "He was evil. I could sense it. He came to the woods where I had made my lair, together with a young girl. I couldn't stop myself; my wolf acted on instinct. Before I knew it... I had ripped his heart out."
She looked down at her hands, as if she couldn't believe they had committed such an act. Such innocent hands—adorned with polish in every color of the rainbow—yet drenched in blood.
Tyler knew that feeling. He knew what it was like to suddenly stand in blood and guts, with no idea how you got there. "Sounds like he deserved it," he said, nudging her hand with his own. It looked just as innocent, but was even more blood-drenched.
Enid nodded cautiously, like she didn't quite believe it. "I suppose I did lose control, though. Every day out there, I felt more like an animal. That's when Wednesday came for me. She reminded me of who I am. She played K-pop and put up colorful banners in the woods. She even danced around in my clothes. She saved me."
"She saved me too." Their eyes met briefly, not shying away. They were not the same, but also not too different.
Enid took a step backward, allowing Tyler to move freely. "You can eat your pizza in the common room," she noted, a hint of a smile on her glossy lips."I won't mind. Unless you mind me playing K-pop, that is."
"I think I'll survive," he grunted. After everything he'd been through, he was quite sure K-pop couldn't be worse.
Chapter Text
Despite having layered a t-shirt, button-down, and hoodie underneath his school blazer, Tyler shivered. Hydes ran cold, and so did this damn school. A draft blew through the classroom, built way before proper isolation had been invented. It looked more like a church hall than a space used for education, with its high ceiling, arched entrances, and sculpted marbled statues of long-dead men in the corners. This was definitely a different kind of school than Jericho High, with its maze of linoleum floor corridors lit by fluorescent rods, where Tyler had last been subjected to schooling.
The subject was different as well. This was his first-ever class in the subject of Outcast History, and he had a lot to learn. So much in fact, that he'd been put in class with the younger students. Which was why he found himself surrounded by unruly and insufferable fourteen-year-olds. A couple of them had tried to take the empty seat next to him, probably on a dare from their friends to approach the Hyde, but as soon as he sneered at them that it was taken, they were long gone.
When the teacher stepped up to the pulpit, preparing to do roll call, Tyler turned to the chair beside him. "You can come out of hiding now," he said. "So you're not marked as absent."
A girl with red curls appeared beside him, giving him a puzzled look. She'd probably thought she was very stealthy.
"You smell like bubblegum and liquorice," he muttered, displeased to have a benchmate. "You're easy to distinguish even when I don't see you."
"I guess I've made quite an impression already, then?" She blinked with her wide eyes, looking at him with something akin to adoration. Something he didn't deserve.
"What are you doing here? Go play with some friends your own age." He waved his hand to make her scurry off, pointing toward some girls who looked like better playmates.
"I was hoping to be your friend," Agnes fiddled with her braids as she talked. She didn't appear scared but rather nervous.
"So why were you invisible then? Hard to befriend someone who can't see you."
"I figured maybe..." She looked down, trying to hide her embarrassment of being called out, "...if you didn't see me at first, I could appear right when you needed me."
"Why do you want to be my friend anyway? Haven't you heard? I'm a monster, a lost cause, an outcast of outcasts."
"I saw us as kindred spirits," she cooed, flapping her hands out excitedly. "We're both trying desperately to gain the attention of an Addams."
Tyler scoffed. "I'm not desperate. What gave you that idea? Wednesday Addams means nothing to me anymore, if she ever did. We're over."
Agnes looked at him with skepticism. "So you don't want to know more about the barista Taylor in her book, then? He brews the best coffee in the world and has the looks of a Greek god."
So much for his generic looks...
"I don't care," Tyler mumbled through gritted teeth while simultaneously pondering how to get his hands on that manuscript. Keen to change the subject, he turned the question back at Agnes. "I thought you and Wednesday were friends already, so why are you still desperate for her attention?"
He'd seen her at the hospital when waiting for Wednesday to wake up. The girl had tried on Wednesday's clothes and braided her hair. Which was a bit creepy, but there were worse things someone could do. Much, much worse.
Agnes chuckled, covering her mouth. A streak of pink colored her pale cheeks. "Wednesday isn't the one I covet. It's another Addams that has my heart." She nodded toward the other end of the classroom, where a boy clad in black-and white stripes accidentally zapped himself while poking his nose.
"Pugsley?!" Tyler exclaimed, a bit too loudly. The sound scared half the classroom, making a couple of students duck under their desks.
Agnes nodded, her cheeks now blossoming red.
"That Pugsley?" Pointing toward the boy in question, Tyler whispered as low as he could. But the notion was too absurd not to raise his voice slightly. "Why?"
"I guess he's... sweet, and cute, and a bit weird."
There was only one of those descriptors that Tyler would use to describe Wednesday's brother, and it wasn't sweet or cute. Pugsley was indisputably weird, though. Weird as hell.
"You called for me, Hyde." A decidedly weird boy, tall and gangly but with the features and naivety of a child, suddenly stood by the desk with an eager expression on his face.
"My name is Tyler, not Hyde..."
Agnes adapted a beaming smile, gazing up at the boy. "And I'm Agn—"
"Do you remember when you kidnapped me last year? That was so fun!" Completely ignoring, or not even seeing, the red-headed girl, Pugsley excitedly went on about his experience. "I even got to zap you! Like this!"
A small lighting buzz flew toward Tyler, making him hiss as it hit his shoulder. "Lay it off," he growled, feeling anger rising in his chest. The Hyde wanted to come out and play with Pugsley, but he wouldn't let it. Putting his left thumb on his right wrist, he massaged the area to center himself. This was not playtime.
Pugsley looked at Tyler with sparkling eyes, probably hoping he would transform before him.
Kill Pugsley Addams. Kill Pugsley Addams. Kill Pugsley Addams.
At least there were new lyrics to the orders than usual, spicing things up a bit.
The bubbling rage subsided. Tyler removed his hand from his wrist. He was in control. He had a choice.
"Pugsley Addams, will you please take your seat?" The teacher commanded from the pulpit.
Pugsley gave Tyler a disappointed look, probably let down he hadn't gotten to poke the Hyde, before obeying. Agnes looked at the boy dreamily as he walked away from them. Tyler shook his head in disbelief. Why was he suddenly the middleman in a ridiculous teenage romcom?
Notes:
Hi! It would be interesting to know what readers think of this story so far. This is my first story in this fandom, and I haven't really read any stories there before either (but I do hang out on Weyler Twitter quite a bit...). I used to write GOT fanfic a couple of years ago, but moved on to original fiction from there. But I hit a wall, inspiration-and motivation-wise, with those stories lately, which is when this story took hold of my brain and wouldn't let go. So I allowed myself to write it, and suddenly the words just flowed. It's kind of a healing experience, honestly.
I have quite a bit more drafted than this, but I want to keep a bit of a backlog while also getting readers toward the main conflict in a speedy manner. I know the chapters are short for Ao3, but this is just how the scenes come to me, and it feels like it matches the pacing of the show as well.
Chapter 7: Pine Crest
Notes:
Yes, the title and the blurb of this story have changed! This title feels more concise and hopefully gripping to readers. I also had a vision for a later plot point that it will be connected to...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Something was different this morning. There was a different tension in the air. When Tyler entered the cafeteria to grab breakfast before class, like he’d done every morning during his first week there, everyone turned the other way, gasping in fear. Walking through the sea of students was like parting the Red Sea; everyone fled at the mere sight of him. Having reached the breakfast buffet, Tyler looked around in confusion. Sure, people had given him weird looks every morning, but they hadn’t left their spot in line at the mere sight of him.
While shoveling bacon and eggs onto his plate, because teenage Hydes needed protein to fuel themselves, he tried to evaluate the situation. Even Ajax, who usually pitied Tyler with his company, gave Tyler cautious glances while whispering conspiratorially with Bianca. Agnes, who was always keen to give Tyler a way-too-detailed report on the latest developments in her wannabe romance with Pugsley, had turned invisible in a corner of the room, perhaps hoping her supposed friend wouldn’t notice her.
There had been no further incidents since Tyler’s talk with Capri, so he couldn’t understand what the sudden change in reception stemmed from. He’d even kept away from Wednesday Addams in fear of triggering inner conflicts he wasn’t ready to confront. While he’d served her coffee according to her preferences every morning, he’d dutifully refrained from any verbal duels.
When Tyler approached a half-occupied table to sit down, all the students fled. Which was convenient as it left plenty of sitting space for him, but also kind of rude. They could at least explain why his presence served as such a deterrent to them. Picking up a piece of bacon from the plate, he tried to make sense of the situation when a figure clad entirely in black whooshed in from the side, taking the seat opposite him.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
A deep breath in muted the voices, for now at least.
“Good morn—” he started, puzzled by Wednesday’s sudden appearance at the table.
“A Hyde attacked people at a nearby campground last night,” she threw out. “Many are injured.”
“Oh…” he said. Suddenly, everyone’s reactions made a lot more sense. There weren’t any other Hydes around campus.
Wednesday lifted an eyebrow. He interpreted the gesture as a question.
“It wasn’t me.” He put up his hands in the air to declare his innocence.
Before she could reply, clanking from high heels echoed through the cafeteria. Tyler turned to see Capri—dressed in a pin-striped pant suit and steel-rimmed glasses, making him suspect she’d watched high school movies to figure out how a principal should look—walking toward him with a stern look on her face.
“Galpin,” she said, signalling for him to rise. “I need to see you in my office now.”
“Here we go again,” he mumbled to Wednesday as he rose to follow. His walk of shame out of the cafeteria was accompanied by muted whispers from the gathered crowd of students.
A blast from his past waited for him in Capri’s office. Sheriff Ritchie Santiago, his father’s former partner in the police force, stood behind the heavy oak desk. These Hyde attacks had undoubtedly been put on her table, and she knew only one suspect fitting the description.
“Tyler,” she greeted him.
“Sheriff Santiago,” he replied, sitting down in the visitor’s chair in front of the desk while Capri took her seat behind it.
“I gather you may already know what I’m here about.”
“I can take a guess.”
“There was a violent attack on a campground outside Jericho last night.”
“The one by Pine Crest State Park? My father and I went there occasionally. He had a hunting cabin nearby.”
“I’m aware. Donovan often talked about your trips there.”
So his father hadn’t been fully incapable of talking to people then. It was just his son he couldn’t talk to. “I don’t think you’re here to talk about my family holidays though, Sheriff.”
“You’re right.” Santiago sighed, pulling her hands further down her pockets. “The evidence gathered at the scene points toward a Hyde being responsible for these attacks. The claw marks and tracks all indicate this is the kind of monster we’re looking for.”
“Well, while I may be a monster, I’m not your monster, Santiago.” He looked straight at her, hoping his honesty would come through. “It wasn’t me.”
Slowly, the sheriff walked up to him, staring him right in the eyes as if she looked for proof in his gaze. Was he the monster everyone feared or the awkward teenage son of her coworker she’d once known? Was he maybe both? Tyler wasn’t quite sure himself.
“I wish I could believe you, Tyler. But you must understand that this doesn’t look good. You only arrived here a few days ago, and now there are new attacks in a place you have connections to.” Santiago turned to Capri. “And I thought we had agreed that you would keep tabs on him at all times? So why can’t anyone vouch for his whereabouts last night?”
“I was in my room, asleep,” Tyler muttered.
“For some reason, his surveillance cuffs don’t seem to have picked up any data that night.” Capri clanked on her laptop keyboard, trying in vain to find the required intel.
“They uh… may have broken,” Tyler mumbled, reaching into his pocket to extract the tangled metal devices. “It was the espresso machine,” he lied. “It mangled them somehow when I was trying to fix a valve.”
Santiago gave him a long look. “Do you think I’m born yesterday, Galpin? I’m supposed to believe that?” She picked up the destroyed cuffs. “Espresso machine…” she tsk-ed, shaking her head in disbelief.
“You promised me you would wear them, Tyler,” Capri chastised him. “It was part of the deal.”
He shrugged, having nothing to add. He knew what he’d promised, and he also knew why he hadn’t obliged.
“Can we talk a bit, Principal Capri?” Sheriff Santiago asked the principal. “Just you and me, I mean.”
Capri nodded, not one to disagree with authority. “Can you step out for a moment, Tyler? We’ll call you in once we’ve discussed some matters.”
Tyler rose. He didn’t feel like he’d gotten a fair opportunity to defend himself. But he also wasn’t sure he had any arguments that would convince Santiago of his innocence. Hell, he wasn’t even one hundred percent sure it hadn’t been him. If a master had got into his head without him knowing, who knew what orders he was following? When he was first unlocked, he woke up with no recollection of what had happened, except for lingering nightmares of burning rage pumping through his veins and mysterious wounds all over his body.
Sitting down on the bench outside, his keen hearing, enhanced by his Hyde abilities, picked up the voices of the women inside the office through the thin old walls.
“This isn’t working,” Sheriff Santiago declared confidently. “I signed off on Tyler being released to the school instead of shipped off to another outcast asylum because I figured I owed his father, may he rest in peace, that much. But I didn’t sign off on more Hyde attacks. The boy has to go.”
“Have some empathy, please,” Capri pleaded. “Tyler is trying to rehabilitate.”
“I have all the empathy, Principal. Believe me, I don’t want to do this. But my main responsibility is toward people in this town, and people are scared. Considering the deeds his committed in the past, and now these new attacks, they may be coming here with pitchforks soon.”
“Sending him to another asylum now, far away from everything he knows, would ruin the progress he’s made already.”
Santiago let out a long sigh. “This isn’t an easy decision for me. I understand the implications. But if you insist on keeping the kid here, you will leave me with no choice but to shut down the whole rehabilitation program. You know I had to approve of that as well.”
“You can’t do that, Sheriff—”
Tyler had heard enough. If they didn’t want him there, then he was out. He didn’t need to wait for anyone to tell him he wasn’t welcome. He ran down the stairs and across the courtyard. He disappeared into woods so well-known to him.
No one stopped him on the way out. No one dared to.
Notes:
Couldn't make this too easy for the poor guy... Just when Tyler was starting to acclimatize and make some friends, then, BOOM! rug pulled from underneath him. But there may just be one person around who believes in his innocence...
Any suggestions for where you think Tyler has gone after this? He knows this area after all, so there are a lot of familiar places for him to hide.
Chapter Text
When children, even those past their formative years, are in distress, they often seek comfort in their parents' presence. Tyler was no exception. Which is why he, after taking a hidden backroad through the woods, found himself sitting on a bench in front of the graves of Donovan and Francoise Galpin.
He hated them. He hated them for putting him into this world. He hated them for leaving him there all alone. He hated them for not equipping him for the life that was ahead of him.
But still, he missed them. He missed the fragments of what they had once been underneath everything that had been broken. Once upon a time, they had loved each other. Their story rivaled the one of Romeo and Juliet. They had defied everything to be together. But once Tyler was born, Donovan couldn’t hide his fear that their son would be just like his mother, which Francoise interpreted as rejection of everything that she was; everything her husband had told her he loved. So she spun out of control and unleashed the monster dwelling inside of her, which landed her at Willow Hill. She left Donovan with a son he was ill-equipped to raise.
In the end, just like Romeo and Juliet, they both ended up in early graves. Their twisted and messed-up son was all that remained. Tyler wasn’t better than them. He was worse.
The sound of gravel crunching underneath boots made him look up. Black braids whirled in the wind. She didn’t smile at him, nor did he expect her to. Cheery gestures of recognition were not her thing. “What are you doing here?” he asked, while the voices in his head started their nauseating chant.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
“Can’t a girl take a stroll in the cemetery without a reason?” she retorted. “I enjoy a reminder of how fragile life is around lunch time.”
“Go ahead,” he replied, expecting her to walk past. But she stayed by his side.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, just saying my goodbyes to the family before they ship me off to another asylum. I got one chance, but it turns out I’m just another Galpin monster.”
Wednesday glanced at the gravestones, then back at Tyler. “Your father wasn’t a Hyde.”
“Doesn’t make him any less of a monster.” Donovan had never let Tyler get away with anything. Any little sign of asserting himself or lapsing from the straight path had been punished. Privileges had been taken away. Curfews had been established. Harsh words had rained. And sometimes, when he glimpsed a monster in his son’s anger, he resorted to more physical methods of discipline.
Wednesday didn’t ask any follow-up questions, which was a relief since Tyler didn’t want to answer them. Instead, she sat down on the bench beside him. Not close, as she always kept a courteous distance to anyone. He knew she didn’t fear his presence more than anyone else’s.
“I believe you,” she said. “I believe you weren’t behind the attacks last night.”
Confused, he glanced over at her. “Why?” he asked. Which was a warranted question, because he wasn’t quite sure he believed in his own innocence. With so many layers of orders and paranoia, who knew what he was capable of? The first time his Hyde took control, he had no recollection of it, at least not immediately. He’d woken up exhausted and covered in blood, and all he could think to do was to wash it off before his father noticed.
“Because this isn’t how you operate,” she replied, looking straight ahead at the graves instead of meeting his gaze. “You don’t attack randomly, at least not without a master telling you to. If you were to go after anyone, it would be me.”
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
He wanted to tell that it wasn’t him, it was the masters who had ordered him to do so. The masters who he couldn’t get out of his head. Thornhill mostly, but also his mother. He could barely tell their voices from his own will at times. But claiming innocence was futile when he’d declared a hunt on her head many times.
“Perhaps there is a master in my head now. Perhaps they got to me without me even knowing.” It had happened before. Thornhill unlocked him before he knew the beast lurking inside. If his master ordered him not to remember, there would be no trace.
“Perhaps, but Thing also assures me you didn’t leave your room that night.”
“You had him spy on me?”
“It was on his own accord. I suppose he wanted to feel a familial connection.”
At the grave beside Francoise, the animate hand had plucked a wild flower and put it across the soil, honoring the man he once was the right hand of. The rest of Isaac Night had been buried, for the second time, next to his beloved sister.
“Capri and Santiago still won’t believe me. Santiago wants to shut down the whole program unless I leave.”
Her expression grew sterner, which was quite a feat for a girl who had made frowning into an art form. She must realize this threatened Enid’s continued enrollment as well. “I can vouch for you; tell them to give you one more chance.”
“Why would you do that? I tried to kill you. Over and over.”
Wednesday shrugged, like her assistance was no big deal whatsoever. “Because Ajax makes terrible coffee.” She took a sip from the Telltale Café cup in her hand and grimaced. “Way too sweet.”
She’d missed him this morning. That’s not what she’d said. But that’s what he’d heard. That’s what he chose to hear.
“And what do you want in return?”
There had to be a catch. There was always a catch with her.
“I want your help in solving this case. If a Hyde is on the loose, you’re the only one who can get into its head. You know how it thinks. You know what drives it. You know what scares it.”
Tyler knew what he would fear if he was the culprit behind these attacks: a determined Wednesday Addams with a case to crack.
“I got nothing to lose.” He stood up, reaching her hand toward her for a handshake.
“Come on, Wednesday, it’s a peace offering,” he explained. “No games this time. Take my hand. If I were behind the attacks, you will have a vision. You’ll know it was me even if I don’t know it myself.”
Eyeing his hand with suspicion, as if the warmth of it would suffocate her, Wednesday finally conceded. Letting out a sigh, she rose, gripping his hand with hers. It was as cold as he remembered her lips being, like the backside of the pillow on a summer night.
When she fell backward, there was just enough time for Tyler to catch her before she hit the ground.
Notes:
Do you believe her? Is it just because of Ajax's terrible coffee (I think he may have poured sugary syrup into the espresso machine, which may be what broke it in the first place) that she wants to help Tyler?
Regarding Wednesday's visions, they will in this story work in the same way as they did in Season 1. Let's just assume that the Ophelia plot somehow resolved that issue, and she once again has working visions (of either the past or the future) that are induced by touching (but she isn't actively trying to induce them like she was at the beginning of season 2).
Chapter Text
Wednesday snapped her eyes open, reminiscent of an alligator about to pounce. “Why are you holding me?” she asked, eyeing the arms around her suspiciously.
“Well, I figured it would be rude to let you fall to the ground,” Tyler replied, definitely not letting go despite her ungratefulness.
She gave him an insulted look, rising from his grip and brushing off her blazer. “I didn’t know chivalry was part of Hyde code,” she mumbled.
“I’ve caught you before.”
“You were putting up an act of a good normie boy back then.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t all an act,” he countered. Truth was, he wasn’t quite sure himself what had been an act and what had been authentic during that time. There were too many layers of orders and charades to unravel. Had the act been real or had the real been an act?
She looked like she wanted to say something, like there was a question on her lips unasked. But no words escaped her lips. Perhaps she knew that if she went there, there would be no going back. She would have to confront her own feelings if she asked him to confront his. And if there was anything that scared Wednesday Addams, it was feelings.
“So did you see anything?” he asked, changing the subject to something less scary. If visions of blood and murder could be considered such.
“I did.” She smoothed out her jacket from the fall, looking away from him. Her demeanor was unbothered, as always, but Tyler sensed an unusual vibration in her presence. Something was bothering her, but she was trying really hard to hide it.
“The attacks at the campground?”
“No, not that.” She always kept information so close to her chest, afraid any little nugget could be used against her.
“So what was it?” he asked, feeling deja vu about the night when they kissed. Had she seen him committing a violent act once again?
Wednesday looked up, meeting Tyler’s eyes briefly, as if she scanned for information on his irises. Then, her gaze strayed, instead landing on the graves of his parents. It was almost as if she was looking for something that wasn’t there.
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, even though it obviously did. Avoiding further questions, she turned on the heels of her lace-up boots. “Come on, we need to head back to Nevermore before Santiago puts a prize on your head.”
Confused, Tyler followed her lead. If she’d seen him be the culprit in a crime, surely she wouldn’t help him? So her vision had to pertain to something else. Something she wouldn’t tell him. Something from his past or future. Both appeared equally dark and murky.
An Uber ride later, with the driver nervously glancing at Tyler the whole way, probably expecting him to turn into a monster at any moment, Wednesday stomped into Capri’s office. Tyler trailed behind, struggling to keep up with her determined gait, despite his legs being much longer.
“Santiago, Capri,” she addressed the women. Santiago was talking on the phone in an agitated tone while Capri was frantically clanking on her keyboard. “Are you missing a Hyde?”
The two women turned, their eyes trailing over Wednesday before landing on Tyler. “Oh, thank god,” Santiago exclaimed, her phone still to her ear. “Ryken, you can tell the squad car to turn around. Galpin is back here again,” she ordered her deputy on the other end before ending the call. “I was getting concerned calls from citizens about you lurking around the cemetery,” she huffed in Tyler’s direction.
“My parents are buried there; am I not allowed to pay my respects to them?”
Santiago didn’t reply, perhaps in fear of revealing that she didn’t feel that either of his parents deserved respect. While she stood silently, the viper decided to strike.
“I hear you want Capri to expel Tyler, or you’ll shut down the whole rehabilitation program.” Wednesday took a confident stance in the middle of the room.
“What I want is for the citizens of this town to feel safe.” Santiago sighed, putting her phone in her pocket. “I gather you heard about the Hyde attacks last night, Addams?”
“I did. I always make sure to get the latest news about anything gory. And I gather you, as a police officer, have heard about presumed innocence until proven guilty?”
“Where are you going with this, Addams?” Santiago sighed again, this time deeper. This was probably not her best day at work to begin with. And now she was getting lectured by a teenager.
“You don’t have any proof that Tyler committed these attacks. And I have proof that he didn’t. Thing surveilled his room all night and never saw him leave, and I touched Tyler’s hand to see if I would get a vision from the attacks, but I didn’t.”
“None of those things would stand up in court.”
“Neither would your circumstantial evidence that he was behind this. Existing in the vicinity of an attack as a Hyde isn’t a crime.”
“I’m not trying to convict him in court. I just want the citizens to feel safe.”
“Is Tyler not a citizen of this town as well? Does he not deserve to feel safe? Outcasts deserve the same justice as everyone else, Sheriff. My father is a lawyer, specialized in outcast justice, and he’s won many cases on that argument. If you press Capri to send away Tyler, I will unfortunately have to ask him to file a discrimination case against the town of Jericho.”
Wednesday certainly was formidable. A force of nature. An enemy no one wanted to have.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
The damn voices… They always had to remind him of their presence every time he went too far, forgetting his monstrous heart.
Santiago sighed for the third time, so deeply that the chandelier rattled from her exhale. Out-argued by a determined teenager once again. “You really want to die on this hill, Addams?” she asked. “And I mean literally die. This boy tried to kill you multiple times. If he is behind this, you may be next.”
“And I will enjoy fighting him off if that’s the case.” Wednesday smirked, as close to a smile as she usually got. “But the fact that I’m standing here should be proof this wasn’t Tyler’s work. Why would he go after random campers instead of his sworn enemy?”
Capri looked to Tyler and then to Wednesday again, not sure what to make of this unlikely alliance. “Fine,” she concluded. “I’ll give Galpin one more chance. But this school needs to keep track of him.” She turned to Capri. “He must wear the cuffs at all times, and the data will be sent to me daily. He cannot leave the school grounds without a chaperone. And avoid traipsing around downtown Jericho, please, I don't want mass panic on my hands.. Does everyone agree?”
Capri nodded. “Sounds fair to me.” She looked toward Tyler.
“I guess I have no choice but to agree,” he mumbled, even though he did. Granted, none of the choices were very appealing. But he could have walked out of there. He could have rotted away in an asylum for the rest of his life. He could have stopped trying. But instead, he put his hands forward, sleeves pulled up. “Cuff me up, Sheriff.”
Despite everything he had done—he’d manipulated her, he’d lied to her, he’d threatened to kill her—the pig-tailed girl in front of him had fought for him. No one had ever fought for Tyler before. Not even himself. When he was expelled from Jericho High after the incident with Xavier, his dad had just accepted the verdict, even though Lucas and the other guys somehow got off lighter, and sent him away to bootcamp instead.
Wednesday had fought for him, and he couldn’t quite understand why. So he had to stick around to figure that out.
Notes:
So what do you think Wednesday actually saw?
And now we can finally start to solve this crime, time for some sleuthing!
Chapter 10: He Is The Damn Crime
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
At impressive speed, Wednesday and Thing cooperated in synchrony. Photographs of the crime scene, maps, and possible clues were taped to the quickly produced blackboard. Tyler didn’t dare to ask where the materials had been obtained, as the methods were probably not legal. All he could do was try to get comfortable in the intricate Gothic chair, with a high back, lion-paw-shaped legs, and black velvet upholstery, where Wednesday had told him to sit. Which was a difficult task as the chair appeared to double as some kind of torture device, making it impossible for the sitter to relax in any position.
To distract himself, he looked around the dorm room. He’d only been in Wednesday’s dwellings once before. On the night of the Rave’s, which he both wanted to forget and never wanted to forget. He hadn’t been supposed to be at the dance, and he’d been punished for it afterward. That night was when Thornhill saw through his double game and took control of the one thing he held on to as his own, his flickering connection with Wednesday, and used it to her own benefit.
But still, he’d rather hang on to the painful memories of that night if it also meant he could recall how amazing Wednesday had looked that night, and the way she’d looked at him. No one had ever looked at him like that before, and no one would ever do so again. But that night, he’d felt chosen.
If only Thornhill hadn’t chosen him first. What hurt most during that night was knowing that whatever he built up would inevitably fall apart. Because it was already too late.
Wednesday’s half of the room looked mostly like he recalled, although he’d been too nervous to note many details. It was dark, moody, and utterly her. It made him feel at ease, as there were no pretenses of welcoming warmth.
The other side was very different from his last visit, though. Enid’s cuddly rainbow aesthetics had been exchanged for shimmering undersea vibes that fit the new inhabitant. For safety reasons, students of the rehabilitation program were not allowed roommates and were also kept in their own wing, locked to other students.
“We’ll go to the campsite tomorrow.” Wednesday decisively stepped back to admire the hodgepodge of clues on the board. “We need to establish if those are the marks of a Hyde or another type of monster.” She pointed at red slashes in a blurry photograph, marring the side of a caravan. “I don’t trust Santiago to tell the difference.”
“We?” Tyler asked, almost falling off the torture chair as he tried to nonchalantly place one leg atop the other. “Are you forgetting that I need a chaperone to set foot outside the school gates? I’m a very dangerous monster, you know. I can’t just take a stroll in the woods.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course, she'd thought of that. She was Wednesday Addams. “I’ll be your chaperone, monster boy,” she announced. “I’ll go to Capri’s office tomorrow and fill in all the paperwork to check you out—like a library book—after school."
“I guess I better behave then,” he mumbled. “Don’t want you to get any late fees.”
“I’ll bring my taser and I won’t hesitate to use it if you don’t.” She smirked a bit too excitedly.
He wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise.
“Pine Crest is ten miles away,” he said, escaping their dangerous dance before it became too intense. “I don’t suppose you’re planning for us to walk the whole way there?”
“No, I have another plan.” She took a sip from her Telltale Cafe’s cup, now filled with non-sweet coffee Tyler had brought to their after-school crime-solving session.
“Which is?”
“On a need-to-know basis.”
“Right, I’m just the poor guy you’re trying to save. I don’t need to know anything,” he muttered, just as the door behind him flew open.
“Oh no, no no no,” Bianca exclaimed as soon as she set foot in the room, her judgmental gaze landing on Tyler. “He is not allowed in here.”
Wednesday turned from the murder board, where Thing pulled red strings between different clues. “You’re bringing a boy in here too,” she noted, nodding toward a figure clad in a hoodie and beanie behind Bianca.
“Well, Ajax is not a known homicidal monster.” Bianca rolled her mesmerizing eyes.
Wednesday shrugged. “I guess we got different types. What were you two going to do in here anyway? Make googly eyes at each other while pretending to do your math homework?”
The lack of reply and blushed cheeks on Bianca and Ajax indicated that this was exactly what they had planned to do.
“Tyler is helping me investigate a crime. I think that goes before your hormonal urges.”
Bianca gave them both a look, perhaps implying that she thought their cooperation may have something to do with hormones as well.
“He is the damn crime. Don’t make the same mistake twice, Wednesday. Don’t let him fool you again.”
He had done that. Once. But she’d fooled him as well. Once.
“No one is getting fooled here,” Wednesday replied through gritted teeth.
Tyler wasn’t so sure.
Ajax finally spoke up, peeking over Bianca’s shoulder. “Eh… our shift down at the Telltale starts soon, Tyler. Perhaps we should head there to prep and let the girls… talk this out.”
Tyler sprang up, eager to escape Bianca’s venom and judgment. Although he did deserve it. When the door closed behind them, he could still hear the girls bickering. Inside his chest, frustration rose, bubbling and dark. No matter what he did, he was always the problem.
Notes:
Crime-solving time! Do you think Wednesday will have to use her taser on the poor monster boy... (I mean, he may misbehave on purpose)
And another familiar character is introduced, now as Wednesday's roommate. Do you think it makes sense that she would now bunk with Bianca instead?
Also starting to explore some of Tyler's emotions regarding events in season 1. In my mind, it makes sense that Thornhill didn't know about his connection with Wednesday until after that (at least not how strong it was), and that it was something that he tried to keep as his own (perhaps not realizing exactly how strong the master bond was).
Chapter 11: In Control
Summary:
Yes, the espresso machine is now its own character in this story... I love my running jokes, and I just can't help getting back to it :)
I feel like I should maybe have put a warning on this story for readers who haven't read my works before (which are assume are basically everyone since I haven't written in this fandom before). Because while I may start out intending to write something brooding and dark, it will all inevitably turn into slapstick in the end. I'm just not a serious person...
This chapter also brings up a thread that the show kind of dropped after season 1: Lucas Walker. We'll get back to him eventually.
Chapter Text
As darkness clouded Tyler’s mind, triggered by Bianca’s dismissive words, the voices grew louder and louder.
Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill them all.
Her voice. Not his mother but the one who had pretended to be. The one he didn’t have to listen to anymore. Still, the monster inside of him wanted to beckon the call. It’s been so long since it had been let loose, and now it was banging at the gates, begging to be let loose to play in the halls of Nevermore. If everyone saw Tyler as a problem, then he could just as well be a problem. A huge, damn monstrous problem.
Because Bianca was right, that was the problem. Tyler was the problem.
He leaned against the bannister in the staircase, rubbing the small circular tattoo on his right wrist, underneath the cuff. It connected him to the tribe, and as long as he caught the signs in time, the connection would prevent the Hyde from breaking loose. But as the voices in his head grew louder, he started to forget why he was even holding back. It would be so easy to give in. To forget all about cuffs, curfews, and social politics.
“I’m sorry about Bianca.” Completely oblivious about any inner turmoil, Ajax patted Tyler’s back. The friendly touch took him by surprise. No one dared to touch him anymore. He felt no fear in the nudge, only encouragement. “She’s a bit… high strung. She’ll come around eventually.”
The insistent voices in Tyler’s mind died down. The monster stopped in its tracks. The jovial gesture had scared it off.
Letting go of his wrist, Tyler turned to his mentor in confusion. “Wait…” he said, trying to make sense of Ajax’s words. “When did you stop being scared of me?”
Ajax shrugged, as if he hadn’t even thought about when or why his attitude changed. “I guess around the third time you had an outburst about the espresso machine. I don’t think a monster would care that much about something so trivial.”
“That damn thing just won’t work,” Tyler muttered. For some reason, it always seemed to malfunction right before a certain pig-tailed self-appointed sleuth came around for her morning coffee. It was as if she’d put a hex on it just to spite him.
“Or when I found you practicing latte art after hours. That just… didn’t strike me as very monstrous.”
It wasn’t like Tyler had anything else to do in the evenings, except homework, which was truly a last resort. So he’d practiced on stencils of grinning pumpkins, fluttering bats, and howling ghosts in preparation for Halloween. The spooky motives wouldn’t elicit a smile from perfect maroon lips, but maybe a glittering sparkle of intrigue would appear in those pitch black eyes.
Not that he cared, of course. Wednesday Addams had no sway over Tyler Galpin, no, no, no. His foamy artworks were just something to bide his time with, away from fearful looks.
“I didn’t know you saw that,” he mumbled, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. This wasn’t good for his street cred as the resident monster.
“I may not be the most attentive guy, but I notice more than people think.” Ajax fired off an awkward smile.
“So, from what you’ve seen, do you think it was me? Do you think I was behind the attacks?”
Ajax shook his head. “Nah…” he shrugged haplessly. “Doesn’t seem like you.” He sat down on the top step of the stairs, as if he could tell Tyler needed a moment, or several, to calm down.
“But it was me.” Tyler took a seat beside Ajax. Wednesday and Bianca's bickering could still be heard through the door. Tyler could hear something about a duel at dawn being suggested. “Before, I mean. I was the monster terrorizing everyone.”
“I mean, I guess you did, once.“ Ajax chuckled nervously, as if he hadn’t quite realized who he was talking to. “But not the you who you are now. I’ve seen you when we work. You’re trying. You’re struggling. If it really was you, I think you would be better at hiding that.”
His messiness made him appear not guilty to Ajax. There was a certain logic to that. When Tyler had been the monster everyone looked for, he’d been flawless at hiding his tracks. He’d played up his innocent persona, making him almost believe it himself. For brief moments, he’d forgotten who he really was and instead embraced the act. In those moments, he’d almost been happy. In those moments, he’d felt hope about himself.
“Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one who has killed someone with their powers.” Ajax suddenly sported a serious expression. It didn’t suit him.
Tyler nodded. “I talked to Enid,” he said. “I know what she did.”
“I didn’t mean her,” Ajax replied. “I meant me.” He sighed, readjusting his beanie.
“You?” That couldn’t be right. Ajax wasn’t the type to kill. He was the type to accidentally turn people to stone, sure, but not purposely harm them. Tyler was convinced that one day, Ajax’s beanie would get caught in the cursed espresso machine and Tyler would become the victim of his snakes. Luckily, Gorgon petrification only lasted for a few hours.
“You didn’t hear about Dort last year? The former principal. He was… not a good guy. He threatened Bianca. So I… turned him to stone. Then a chandelier fell on him and he went poof.” Ajax gesticulated in the air to illustrate Dort’s doomed fate.
“So you didn’t actually kill him then?”
“I may as well have. I did cause his death.”
But Ajax hadn’t gutted his victim. He hadn’t felt the taste of blood on his mouth. He hadn’t revealed in slicing through skin and bone. Tyler had.
“It’s not the same,” Tyler mumbled, not wanting to horrify Ajax with details about his own crimes.
“I suppose it’s not,” Ajax agreed. “Because I had a choice. I had no master ordering me. I had no predatory instincts. I knew exactly what would happen. And I still did it. For Bianca’s sake.”
Without thinking, Tyler put his hand on Ajax's shoulder, giving him an encouraging pat. The gesture came naturally, yet it felt so foreign. It was a lifetime since he engaged in such camaraderie. A long-gone memory suddenly flashed through Tyler’s mind, of an everyday moment in another life. Lucas and him sitting on the porch in the pouring rain, venting about their respective fathers and their strict nature. Everything about that moment was gone now. Their fathers. Their friendship. Their innocence.
“Come on.” Ajax stood up, reaching a hand toward Tyler. “If we show up early for our shift, you can help me fix the espresso machine. Because I may have broken it this morning.”
“Did you pour caramel syrup into it again?” Tyler sighed in exasperation. Why was he suddenly the resident espresso machine expert?
“It was hazelnut syrup this time,” Ajax admitted.
“You really are terrible at making coffee,” Tyler muttered, accepting Ajax’s hand to rise. It was lucky the guy had other things going for him.
Chapter 12: Marks of a Hyde
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Closing the car door behind him, Tyler filled his lungs with crisp forest air. Pine and dirt. Smells that filled lingering memories of his father. Here, they had moments of respite, away from the combativeness of everyday life. In the woods, their harder edges had withered down, leaving way for shared laughs and cooperation when they trekked through the woods in hunt for prey. Deer, elk, and sometimes even squirrels. A controlled and methodical hunt, very different from Tyler’s later rampages in Hyde form.
“I think I put the parking brake in right, but I don’t know!” Enid squeaked. She slammed the pink car door behind her, scaring any curious wildlife far away. “This driving thing is so confusing.”
“Should I get in there and check for you?” Tyler offered, wondering how the heck Enid had even gotten her license. For all his flaws, Donovan Galpin—having seen his fair share of gruesome accidents—had made sure his son was a confident driver before letting him loose on the roads. And he sure as hell had made sure Tyler knew how to apply a parking brake.
“I don’t need no man to park for me!” She retorted, locking the car remotely with a beep. “And do you even know how to drive?”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “I got my license two years ago. I drove you to Gates Manor, don’t you remember?”
“Oh, right…” Enid stuttered. “But that was…”
“Before I was a monster?”
“Well, yeah…”
“I still know how to apply a parking brake. Monster or not.”
“Can you two stop? If I wanted sibling bickering, I would have brought Pugsley.” Wednesday stomped between them, her gaze focused on a folded-out map.
“What are we even doing out here?” Enid pulled her fluffy pink parka closer to protect herself from the ice-cold wind blowing between the pines. “I thought you said we were going to check out a new bubble tea place. I don’t think you’ll find that out here!”
“I don’t drink anything bubbly or sweet. But you’re my only friend with a car.” Wednesday stopped for a moment, gazed at the map, and then decisively took the path leading to the right.
“Gaahhh, you could have just asked me to drive you!” Enid jumped on the spot in frustration, her colorful claws extracting with a flicking sound. She turned to Tyler. “Did she promise you bubble tea too?”
“He’s here to help me investigate,” Wednesday answered before Tyler had a chance to speak.
“So I’m the only one getting tricked…” Enid muttered.
Turning a corner on the gravel road, a field with toppled RVs spread out before them. The sunlight flickering above the pines made the scene glow in gold, illuminating gashes in the plastic shells. Yellow police tape criss-crossed the field, telling them to keep out. Like such a message would ever deter Wednesday Addams rather than encourage her.
Wednesday gracefully ducked under the police tape, her black hoodie and tights making her look like a cat burglar. “Santiago and the other cops have left for the day,” she concluded. “That’s why I wanted to come here in the evening.”
“Please let us leave before it gets dark. I don’t want to know what hangs out here at night.” Enid shivered at the thought, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Mostly bears and wolves,” Tyler noted, stepping over the yellow tape with ease. “You’ll fit right in.”
Enid’s eyes darted around cautiously. “Whatever monster did this might be watching us right now.”
Tyler gave her a long look, waiting for her to realize who she was talking to. “Whatever monster is out there isn’t worse than me,” he mumbled, making Enid flinch as the coin dropped. At least she didn’t seem to consider him and this monster one and the same.
Leaving Enid behind to anxiously survey the woods, Tyler walked up to the nearest RV to inspect the jagged marks in the white plastic cover.
“I think Santiago was right in her assessment.” Wednesday shone a flashlight across the claw marks. “Those are the marks of a Hyde.”
Tyler nodded, letting his fingers trace the tracks. The movement felt familiar to his limbs, but something didn’t quite add up.
“Hold this.” Wednesday handed him the flashlight. She hauled a Polaroid camera out of her backpack.
“Your wish is my command,” Tyler muttered. Despite his snarky tone, he kept the light shining on the claw marks while Wednesday took pictures from all angles. He still couldn’t shake the sense of something being amiss.
When Wednesday pointed toward another RV, he dutifully followed across the field, illuminating her way with the beam of the flashlight. He took note of several other vehicles with similar marks. They were all similar, obvious, but shallow. It seemed too neat, too put-together, too organized.
“Santiago said people were hurt in the encounter. How were they injured?” He asked the pig-tailed investigator in front of him.
“Mostly bruises and cuts from when the RVs toppled over. They were lucky to escape to the main office before the Hyde got them.” Wednesday pointed toward a timber building at the end of the field.
Tyler shook his head in disbelief. “A Hyde could destroy these RVs easily,” he said. “It would tear through the walls like paper.” He held out a hand in front of him, remembering the intoxicating sensation of being so powerful. “There was no luck involved in this. If the Hyde wanted to kill them, it would have.”
“So why would a Hyde strike not to kill?”
“Their master must have told them not to, or—“
He interrupted himself before he divulged too much. He couldn’t let her sway so much power over him. She couldn’t know what he’d done, for her.
“…it missed.” She filled in.
“Hydes don’t miss.”
She smirked infuriatingly. “I know.”
“Are you two done investigating soon so we can leave?” Enid yelled from outside the taped-off area while furiously blowing on her hands for warmth.
“I’ve seen what I needed,” Wednesday concluded, crawling under the tape again. “This was a staged attack, meant to frighten rather than to hurt.”
“But why?” Tyler wondered, handing the flashlight to Wednesday so he could hold down the yellow tape and step over it.
Enid bounced ahead of them, eager to finally get back to the cozy car.
“They must have wanted to send a message.” Wednesday shone the flashlight in a circle around them, looking for a monster listening in on them.
A loud cry filled the dim night, making them both freeze in place.
“Enid!” Wednesday gasped.
Notes:
I present to you the second running joke of this story: people parking cars! (the first is, of course, the cursed espresso machine)
We finally get some more Enid/Tyler interactions! I do believe they would very much act like bickering siblings (once they've gotten over their current bitterness at each other)
And what do you think has happened that is making Enid scream? Monster attack? A new bubble tea shop? The car rolled into a pond because she didn't apply the parking brake?
Chapter 13: Been There, Done That
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Trailing behind Wednesday with his breath in his throat, Tyler arrived back at the car, or at least to where the car should have been.
“It’s gone!” Enid flapped her arms out in frustration. “Someone stole my car! My parents are going to kill me. Gahhhhh.” Her claws flexed when anger and anxiety took hold of her body. “I can’t believe this is happening!”
Wednesday let out a sigh of relief that Enid was not in danger, followed by a grunt of annoyance. “You don’t have to tell the whole woods about it.”
Tyler bent down to inspect the ground. He could make out faint tire tracks in the dirt, despite the muted light of dusk. “The car’s not gone,” he declared. “It rolled that way.” He pointed down the steep hill behind them. “Maybe because someone didn’t apply the parking brake properly?”
Enid glared at him, letting out a slight growl as she passed by.
“It’s down there.” Wednesday was already way ahead of them, peering down the hill.
Tyler caught up with her, sighing as he took note of the car’s location. “Don’t think we’ll be driving that home,” he concluded.
“It’s in a freaking pond!” Enid squealed behind him. “This is just my luck. And it’s getting dark too! It’s almost curfew.”
“Don’t think there is much luck involved in applying parking brakes,” Tyler muttered.
“I’m calling Capri to see if she can pick us up.” Enid picked up her phone, protected by a hot pink fuzzy cover with cat ears, from her pocket, but soon let out another exasperated “Gaaaahhhh!”
“No connection?” Tyler asked. “It’s usually not very good out here in the woods.”
“We can break into one of these cabins for the night.” Wednesday was already on the move, aiming for a collection of small cabins belonging to the campground. “There should be people around the office by morning, so we can call someone from there to get the car towed.”
“I’m not breaking into any cabins.” Tyler held his hands in the air, vehemently shaking his head. “Santiago is already convinced I’m behind these attacks. I don’t want her to be able to hold burglary against me as well.”
“So what do you suggest?” Wednesday asked.
“My father’s old hunting cabin is about half a mile that way.” He nodded across the pond. “It technically belongs to me, so Santiago can’t call it burglary. Fairburn had a lawyer come to Willow Hill to read my father’s will to me. I scared him off quickly, but the papers should still be valid.”
Donovan Galpin had left everything he owned to his only son. It hadn’t escaped Tyler’s notice, despite growling menacingly at the executioner of the will, that it had been established mere weeks before his father’s death. Despite everything Tyler had done, Donovan must still have harboured some hope for his son, which was more than he had himself.
“I know where it is.” Wednesday changed the direction of her strides. “I broke in there last fall.”
“Of course you did,” Tyler mumbled, once again struggling to keep up with Wednesday’s swift strides. “I hope you didn’t break anything.”
“Only what I had to.”
“What about curfew?” Enid shouted behind them. “Capri might expel us if we’re not back at school by ten.”
Tyler held up his wrist. The cuff blinked regularly with a green light, illuminating the forest around them. “If Capri wants to come get us, she can. She knows where I am.”
Fifteen minutes of trekking later, they had arrived. Tyler swallowed the bile of old memories as he walked up the steps. Reaching his hand toward the rickety gutter above the door, he rummaged around a bit before extracting a small key from a hook. That’s where his father had always hidden it, in case of emergency.
“See, you didn’t have to break the window.” He triumphantly held out the key in front of Wednesday, gesturing toward the shattered glass from her last visit.
She let out a puff of air. “Obviously, a discriminating system constructed for tall people. The window worked for me.”
After a twist of the key, the door easily slid open. They were welcomed by a musty smell of dust and pine. Tyler swallowed again, waiting for the girls to enter before he took a step across the threshold.
Tyler knew his father was dead, although he hadn’t mourned him. Still, he must have subconsciously expected Donovan to be in the cabin, sitting in his favorite old recliner with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and their dog Elvis by his side.
But Donovan Galpin wasn’t there. He would never be there again.
Tyler raised his arm to wipe something from beneath his eye with his sleeve. Of course, Wednesday had to turn just as he did.
“Dust,” he explained, coughing demonstratively.
“Sure,” she said skeptically.
“It’s cold in here,” Enid complained, wrapping her arms around herself while jumping up and down to try to keep warm. “Is there a fireplace we can light?”
“There should be some blankets in the basket by the couch,” Tyler replied. “And I can light the firepit outside for some warmth.” He pulled out one of the kitchen drawers to get a box of matches. Hopefully, they hadn't been rendered unusable by the dampness of the unused cabin.
Before the girls could protest, he exited the cabin, leaving his unresolved grief behind. Perhaps coming here had been a bad idea.
Focusing on the task at hand, Tyler crouched down to remove debris from the fire pit, which was located right below the porch. Expecting old leaves and newspapers, he was confused when his hand was met by something warm. Surprised, he pulled back. Whatever was there wasn’t burning hot, but it had definitely burned quite recently. But who would have visited his father’s cabin?
Cautiously, he reached in again, pulling a collection of items from the pit. Half-burned fabric fell apart in his hands. Tyler jumped back when realizing it was splattered in blood and ripped at the seams. He’d seen clothes destroyed in such a way before. He’d burned such clothes in the backyard, telling his father there were only leaves in the ensuing bonfire. When he shook the clothing, trying to get the ash off to inspect them further, something else fell out.
A photograph. Singed at the edges but otherwise intact.
Holding up the photograph in the faint moonlight—not quite full, so there was no risk of werewolves tonight—he recognized the two people smiling back at him. His parents. So young. So full of hope. So utterly unprepared to be crushed by life.
“What is that?” Wednesday had snuck up on him. That girl walked silently as a ghost at times.
“Recently burned clothes,” he replied, shoving the picture into his pocket. “I believe they were worn by a Hyde who tried to destroy evidence.”
“Been there, done that?”
He rolled his eyes, although she wasn’t wrong.
“We found suspicious items inside as well,” Wednesday informed him. “I suspect they didn’t belong to your father. You should come take a look.”
Following Wednesday inside, Tyler was presented with a bunch of notebooks filled with scribbles as well as a couple of leatherbound books in foreign languages, all laid out on the kitchen table. Tyler definitely hadn’t seen any of them before.
“I found them on the desk in the bedroom,” Wednesday told him. “It appears to be research on Hydes, although I haven’t been able to look through everything yet.”
“You think…” Tyler pulled his hand through his hair, trying to make sense of everything. “Do you think whoever committed those attacks cooped up here afterward?”
“The evidence certainly points toward it.”
“Why here? Why my father’s cabin?”
“That is yet to be determined. There may be clues in the material. Enid can help me.”
Wednesday peered toward the pink-clad girl on the couch, wrapped in every blanket she could find in the cabin. “Fine, I’ll help you,” she muttered. “But you owe me several bubble tea trips.”
Relieved he hadn’t been volunteered to look through the material, as he wasn’t keen on staying inside with bittersweet memories pressing down on him longer than possible, Tyler suggested a task better suited for him. “I’ll keep watch outside,” he said, glancing toward the porch. “If the attacker left these things, they may be back for them at some point.”
Notes:
And the mystery thickens... Where did these things come from, why was there a photograph of Tyler's parents, and why is it all stashed in Donovan's cabin?
Chapter 14: Kill Your Father
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He should have thrown the hidden photograph back on the fire pit or torn it apart and let it scatter in the wind. It didn’t deserve his attention. Still, Tyler couldn’t stop looking at it, holding it up to the moonlight to investigate every detail. Something didn’t make sense. Who were the happy couple beaming at the camera? He only knew his parents later. Much later. After everything fell apart. But who were they then?
Francoise wore a flowy, floral dress while Donovan sported a purple velvet blazer. 90’s fashion at its finest. Behind them was the hunting cabin. They smiled so innocently, but at whom and why? And why had the picture ended up in the fire pit?
Looking for some kind of clue, Tyler flipped the image over, revealing faded pencil marks.
Fran and Don, by the cabin, 1993.
That would make them both in their mid-20s at the time, in the prime of their life. But the date confirmed Tyler’s suspicion about something being amiss. There were still things his dad hadn’t told him; still more secrets to uncover. But since both Donovan and Francoise were gone, there was no one left to divulge their story to their son.
“What are you looking at?” Wednesday had once again snuck up on him, scooting up beside him on the edge of the porch.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
Most of the time, he could keep the voices at bay. He knew she would be around, so he could block them preemptively. But her surprise appearance by his side took him by surprise.
“I found this in the fire pit,” he admitted, handing her the picture so he could touch the circle on his wrist. The connection muted the voices to a mere whisper. “It’s my parents.”
“Donovan must have wanted to burn it, ridding himself of painful memories.”
Tyler shook his head. He’d considered that option, but it seemed unlikely. “It was bundled with the clothes I found. And it wasn’t here last time I visited, with mom and Isaac. We used the fire pit to keep warm.”
“So this is where you guys scurried off to,” she mumbled.
He ignored the comment. “My parents married in 2005,” he said. “I’ve seen their wedding pictures. And while my dad never told me much about my mom, he did say they met two years prior. She arrived in Jericho to wait tables at the Weatherwane, and he came there every day after work.”
“How fitting…” Wednesday mumbled, handing the photograph back to Tyler. “You’re carrying on the family tradition of serving coffee.”
Once again, he ignored her snark. “This picture is from ten years before that,” he continued. “Long before they were supposed to have met and started dating. I suppose they may have encountered each other when my mom was a student at Nevermore, but I never heard about them knowing each other back then, much less dating.”
The beaming faces in the picture, lingering close by each other, definitely spoke of an intimate relationship.
“Whoever left the notes here may have known them? They may have even taken the picture?”
It was definitely a possibility, although Tyler couldn’t quite connect all the dots. How did all this amount in Hyde attacks at a nearby campground? “Did you find anything interesting in the books you found?” he asked.
“The candlelight ran out before I could read much, and Enid fell asleep. But what I did go through appeared to be observations of Hyde behaviour, based on a particular case the author was surveying.”
“I suppose that’s the fate of a Hyde, to become the test subject of mad scientists.” Tyler palmed his hand against his forehead, pulling it through his curls. “That’s would they would have done to me at Willow Hill, and no one would have cared or looked for me.”
Wednesday looked between the picture in his hand and then up at Tyler, as if she were pondering whether she should say something. “Your father would,” she finally said.
“Huh?” he responded, unable to grasp what she even meant.
“Donovan cared. That’s why he died. He was investigating mysterious disappearances at Willow Hill. He worried the same thing would happen to you.”
Tyler shook his head, clasping the picture in his hand. He’d been ready to release it into the wind, but now, he couldn’t let go. “He shot me,” he countered, unwilling to let go of his hostility toward his father.
“But he didn’t kill you.”
She had a point. More of a point than she realized.
“He visited me once.”
“I know, Fairburn told me.”
“So you know what happened then?”
“I do.”
“They started using the shock collar after that. The chains and glass weren’t enough. I almost broke out. I was so angry at him.”
Kill your father. Kill your father. Kill your father.
Wednesday removed the picture from his hand as it had started to fray under his tight grip. Bubbling rage rose as he remembered. The anger had been all-consuming the moment he’d seen his father, and he’d let it take over without a second thought.
That was the last time Tyler ever saw his father. A last look when Donovan turned toward his snarling and growling son, turning into the beast he’d feared for the last eighteen years.
KILL YOUR FATHER! KILLYOURFATHER! KIIIILLLLLLLLLLLL
Navigating through the echoing voices, Tyler reached for his wrist again, touching the circular symbol. He needed to control himself. He couldn’t let the rage win. Not again.
“He kept investigating after that,” Wednesday said, her voice reaching through the anger.
A chilly wind of calmness quenched the rage. Tyler unballed his fists. “I guess he was less of a monster than me,” he concluded, trying to act like nothing was amiss. Not meeting Wednesday’s eyes, he reached for the picture again, snatching it out of her grip and putting it in his hoodie pocket.
Perhaps it would scatter in the wind one day, once unresolved emotions were untangled, but for now, he could keep it.
The honking of a car horn cut through the tense night. Bright lights blinded them from the gravel road below the cabin.
“Come on, kids, get in the car now!” Capri shouted from the driver’s seat. “I don’t care what happened and why you’re here, but Galpin needs to be in his room before Santiago thinks he’s running amok.”
Notes:
Some notes on the timeline/dates used for this story (especially in regards to Tyler's parents):
I've used the dates on Donovan and Francoise's gravestones as a baseline for figuring out a timeline for this story. According to those, he was born in 1967 and died in 2025, while she was born in 1969 and died (well, not really) in 2010. (I'm aware that this birthdate for her doesn't quite add up with other pieces of backstory we have for Wednesday's parents, as she would be too old to be a student at the same time as them at the beginning of the 90s, and there will be some head-canon lore included to explain that discrepancy eventually)
I've set Tyler's birth year in this story to 2007 (making him 19 when this story takes place in 2026, a year after season 2, which is canonically set in 2025 based on when Donovan died). That makes him 3 years old when his mom died, which makes it plausible for him to remember her in some way. It also makes him one year older than Wednesday (who canonically turned 16 in season 1, which in my timeline was set in 2024 to add up with the year established for season 2).
In the picture Tyler found, Donovan and Francoise are 26 and 24 years old, while they were 40 and 38 when he was born. So that is 12 years where it's unclear what their relationship was and what they were doing. Well, I'm about to delve into those years...
Creating this backstory for them may also have sparked an idea to eventually write their story in some way, if anyone would be interested in that? I've already tentatively named the story "More Than You'll Ever Know" (referencing Donovan's reply to Tyler's question of whether he even really loved his mom)
Chapter 15: Subject X
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Having slept for three glorious hours after their late-night adventures at the cabin, Tyler woke up from fingers running across his face. Freaked out, he grabbed the intrusive hand, throwing it across the room.
“Well, that’s rude,” a cold voice noted.
Flicking his eyes open, Tyler found Wednesday Addams standing by his bedside. In the corner, her loyal companion Thing scrambled to get back on his fingers after the aerial tour of the room.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
It appeared the monster was also awake.
“What are you doing in my room?” Tyler pulled the comforter up to cover his chest.
“Relax,” Wednesday said. “I’ve seen your abs before, Tyler. I promise I won’t get rabid at the sight.”
Tyler rolled his eyes, letting the comforter fall. Incidentally, her eyes fell with it, lingering for a moment before she decisively looked away, instead taking inventory of his humble dwellings. Homework notes were spread across the desk, his school uniform was thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair, and some chip bags were scattered on the floor. “I suppose this is better than the cell at Willow Hill,” she complimented it, walking up to the window and tracing her hand on the windowsill.
He glanced toward the digital clock on the nightstand. “Wednesday, it’s 5.30 a.m.,” he sighed, wanting to escape underneath the cozy blankets again. “I’ve slept for barely three hours, and I’m still on curfew. So what are you doing here? Can’t you come back in two hours?”
“Sleep is for the weak.” She blew out a puff of air. “I’ve read through all the notebooks we found, and I need your take on them, as a Hyde.”
As a Hyde, Tyler needed a few more hours of sleep to be even close to functional.“So you broke into my room?”
She held up a hairpin to showcase how easy it had been to breach his sanctuary. “Since Bianca won’t let you near our room, I figured this was a better place for crime solving.”
With a final yawn, Tyler gave in, shuffling his legs off the side of the bed. He was too tired to argue, and it seemed she wouldn’t leave. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready,” he muttered, stifling another yawn. “We can sit in the common room. There shouldn’t be anyone else there at this time. Unless Enid has already started to blast her damn K-pop…”
“I’ll deal with Enid if necessary." Wednesday closed the door behind her, although not without a final brief glance at Tyler’s bare chest and abs.
When Tyler entered the common room ten minutes later, having brushed his teeth and pulled on a t-shirt and sweat pants, Wednesday had already made it hers. She’d filled the dining table with the books they found as well as her own extensive notes, and the murder board, now containing her photographs from the scene, hung on the wall. Had she carried it there all by herself? It was an impressive feat, considering the board was almost as tall as her, but he wouldn’t be surprised.
“I see you’ve gotten yourself comfortable.” He pulled out a chair, contemplating whether Wednesday would notice if he napped with his head against the table while she worked.
“Comfort is an illusion,” she replied, which explained the torture chair in her room. “It makes us forget the fragility of our mortal shell.”
“Just making conversation,” he mumbled, pulling his unbrushed hair away from his face. “I suppose that was my mistake.”
Chit-chat and small talk were not Wednesday’s style. Tyler knew that. He knew that better than anyone. But it was still easy to fall into such habits in her intimidating presence. He didn’t know how he was supposed to act. He didn’t know what they were to each other. He didn’t know what he wanted them to be, or if that even mattered.
“I figured out who wrote the notebooks,” she said, ignoring his remarks. “I recognized the handwriting from something in the Nightshades' secret library.”
“Nightshades?” Tyler wondered.
“Ajax can fill you in on that.” Wednesday waved her hand as if chasing away an annoying fly. “They’re not important. But this book is.” She slammed a heavy leatherbound book down on the table, causing dust to fly from the pages. Tyler coughed as the particles found their way into his throat. “It’s where I first learned about Hydes.” She flipped the book open, revealing intricate illustrations of his kind to Tyler.
He nodded slowly, taking in the information. “You showed me this before,” he said. “At the Weatherwane. It was written by the guy who founded this school, right?”
It had been the first time he truly got a look at his monstrous shape. Bulging eyes. Claws sharp and long as knives. Jagged teeth. He’d been fascinated by the detailed drawings, trying to capture what he’d only experienced from the inside.
Her gaze switched from the book to him for a moment, her brow furrowed. Had she forgotten about showing him this? Or had she just forgotten that sweet barista was still him? “Right.” Her steely gaze was back, pointing at a name at the top of the page. “Nathaniel Faulkner. He founded Nevermore, and he did extensive research on Hydes. But it’s not Nathaniel’s writing that I recognized, but rather Robert’s.” She extracted a notebook page from between the pages of the book.
“Robert?” Tyler squinted as he tried to read the twirly cursive strokes.
“Robert Faulkner was Nathaniel’s great-great-grandson. He was the principal at Nevermore thirty years ago, when my parents went here, and he was obsessed with his ancestor and his Hyde research. I found his extensive notes between the pages of Nathaniel’s diary.”
Tyler looked toward the notebooks found in the cabin. “So you think those are written by Robert as well?”
She grabbed one of the books, flipping it open atop Faulkner’s diary so Tyler could compare the texts. The twirly cursive strokes did look eerily similar. “My uncle Fester taught me graphology at a young age. It’s useful for forging documents. I know without a doubt that the same person wrote these.”
If she had no doubt, then Tyler was convinced as well.
“What happened to Robert?”
“As is the fate of many Nevermore principals, he died mysteriously. Robert was found in the woods by his son, who was a teacher at the school, having been sliced to threads. The official story is an animal attack, but…”
“...sounds an awful lot like a Hyde attack to me.”
“Exactly, which is ironic since his revered ancestor Nathaniel was also killed by one. After that, Hydes were banned by the school.”
Tyler lifted an eyebrow. “And yet I’m here.”
“Capri changed the rules for you. The board was against her decision, but she fought for you, arguing that a school for outcasts needs to be for all outcasts or we’re no better than the normies who cast us out.”
So many people fighting for him. Tyler hadn’t realized exactly what obstacles Capri had faced to allow him entry to Nevermore. The burden of responsibility weighed on him. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to carry it.
“So what are Robert Faulkner’s notebooks doing in my father’s cabin?” He asked, distracting himself from the burden.
“I don’t know yet.” It appeared that Wednesday was confident she would eventually find out. “But I know what Robert was attempting to reveal from the notes found in the cabin; he wanted to know what made a Hyde kill its master. He seems to have found one and unlocked them without them knowing to run his experiments.”
“And did he find out why?”
She shook her head. “The last note is about him running a final test to try to prove a hypothesis. Then here is nothing more.”
“Perhaps his hypothesis was correct, and…”
“... the Hyde killed him.”
“Do we know who this Hyde was?”
“He just calls them subject X in his notes. He also doesn’t mention what his hypothesis was.”
Tyler feigned intense interest in the notes, leaning forward to read them as he awaited the inevitable question.
“You killed your master, Tyler. Do you know the answer to Faulkner’s question?”
“No,” he lied, because he couldn’t tell her. It would ruin everything. It would ruin this.
Her eyes bore into his, searching for an answer beyond his words. Wednesday must suspect he wasn’t truthful. Perhaps she even suspected the truth. But he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell anyone.
“It’s all kind of a blur,” he added, because it seemed a one-word answer wasn’t enough. “That night, I mean.”
A lot of things were blurry in his mind, splattered with blood and masked by orders, but not that night. He remembered every second of how he’d chased Laurel Thornhill down and impaled her with his claws. And he knew exactly what made him do it. After that, the Hyde had taken over, running amok when it was let loose with no master to control it.
Wednesday finally released him from the prison of her all-knowing gaze. “If we find out who the Hyde was, we should be able to learn more,” she said. “This Hyde may be our Hyde, in some kind of warped vindictive scheme against the school.”
“So how do you suggest we find that out?”
“We need the police report from Robert Faulkner’s death. It should contain details about the crime, such as potential suspects and witnesses.”
Tyler sighed. “I hope you’re not suggesting we break into the police station? Are you forgetting the whole “Tyler Galpin is a dangerous monster who shouldn’t be around innocent citizens and definitely shouldn’t commit additional crimes”-thing again?”
“No,” she said, a dark twinkle playing in her eyes. “I will break into the police station. You will just be the getaway driver.”
Notes:
Wednesday could totally have knocked, but what would have been the fun in that? Tyler may even have put a shirt on, and we can't have that!
Next stop: the police station! Our heroes will just commit some light burglary in a plan that is not ill-advised at all!
***
And please be kind to me if I get something wrong in the lore (like I did in the initial version of this chapter... but it's changed now, so it's all good!). I do want this story to work as a canon story (even if the timeline for the canon material is a bit iffy at times) as well as possible, but the lore also mainly works as a backdrop to bickering, flirting, and slapstick.One thing that does trip me up with the existing show lore is how Francoise was allowed at the school during the time period when Hydes were banned, but I'll include a head-canon explanation for this eventually! (this fact initially made me mix up during which period Nathaniel Faulkner was principal at the school and is why I had to introduce his great-great-grandson into the story)
Chapter 16: Killed Off
Notes:
On account of me being an idiot who misunderstood the lore of the show, I have gone back and changed some stuff in the previous chapter. The main thing you need to know is that instead of it being Nathaniel Faulkner (who lived in the 1800s, duh! I should have known that) who wrote the notes they found in the cabin, it's now Robert Faulkner, his great-great-grandson, who was a principal at Nevermore in the 90s and obsessed with his ancestor's research. Wednesday found notes he'd made in the diary when she read it in season 1, and therefore recognized the handwriting in the notebooks as his. Robert died mysteriously in what was claimed to be an animal attack (but sounds an awful lot like a Hyde attack...).
So with that, the story should be on track again, and we can focus on important things like parking cars and vengeful espresso machines!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tyler put his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat to check where he was going as he reversed the pink car into one of the alleys around Jericho’s town square. The pig-tailed occupant of the seat beside him leaned over to get a peek at the police station, and one of her neat braids nudged against the back of his hand. It was smooth and cold like a rock found in an icy creek. She didn’t flinch or move away from the touch. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. Tyler didn’t dare to move away. He didn’t want to. The distraction of hair strands tickling his skin caused him to brake a bit too harshly, narrowly avoiding hitting the car behind them.
Wednesday side-eyed him wordlessly.
Removing his hand from the headrest and instead placing it on the steering wheel, Tyler focused on the dashboard in front of him. “I was a while since I parallel parked…” he muttered. “Just give me a second.”
“I could have driven here myself if it’s too difficult for you.” She glared at him while he changed gears, which made the engine rustle in pain. If she could just stop looking at him, this ordeal would go a whole lot smoother. “But Santiago may frown upon me driving without a license.”
Honestly, Tyler wasn’t sure if his license was still valid, considering he had been deemed a danger to society in court, but he hadn’t wanted to bring that up when Wednesday asked him to be her chauffeur for the evening. While it had been some time since he last handled a vehicle, driving had felt like second nature to him as soon as he placed himself behind the steering wheel of Enid’s ridiculous clown car.
Without acknowledging Wednesday’s jab or even looking over, Tyler skillfully finished placing the car in the designated spot before turning off the ignition and demonstratively applying the parking brake. At least he wouldn’t let the car roll away on its own adventures again.
While the car had been pulled from the pond the day after their visit to Pine Crest, Enid had not been keen to join them on another dangerous escapade, not even after promises of bubble tea. Somehow—through bribery, blackmail, or perhaps both—Wednesday had gotten her friend to lend her car to them, though, which made Tyler the designated getaway driver for the heist.
“As soon as Ryken leaves for the night, Thing and I will strike,” Wednesday explained, hauling a pair of binoculars out of her bag. She aimed them toward the doors of the police station. “There should be a window of a few minutes after he activates the alarms where we can disable them indefinitely.”
“And how long will you be gone?” Tyler asked, not keen on being parked close to the police station for long.
“Might take an hour or two.” Wednesday shrugged, apparently not concerned about his vulnerable position. “Thing will need to decipher the code on each keypad on the way to the archives.”
“An hour or two?” he exclaimed. “You want me to just sit here for hours, outside the police station of a town where everyone sees me as a crazed, murderous monster, in the least auspicious car ever?"
“The windows are tinted. You’ll be alright, monster boy.”
Tyler sighed. “You could at least have brought me something to read while I wait.” Remembering a snippet of juicy information he’d been told the other day by an invisible little bird, he took the opportunity to return the jab at his driving skills. “Maybe the latest Viper De La Muerte book, I would love to know what Taylor the Greek God barista is up to these days.”
Wednesday snapped her head toward Tyler, alligator style. “How do you know about him? Was it Thing who blabbed?” She looked toward her trusty right hand in the backseat, who vehemently shook his top part to deny the accusation.
“It wasn’t Thing,” Tyler assured her.
Wednesday pondered for a moment, clearly going over the list of potential suspects in her head. “I’m going to kill Agnes,” she eventually concluded, having landed on the correct culprit. “Always snooping through my stuff.”
“So you did write about Taylor then?”
“Don’t get all high and mighty. He has nothing to do with you. And besides, I killed him off in the second book.”
“How did the poor guy die?”
“Gruesomely.”
He rolled his eyes at her resistance to give any additional information.
“It was a very unfortunate espresso machine accident,” she volunteered. “It decapitated him cleanly.”
“Does sound realistic…” Tyler replied, not looking forward to taking on the fearsome beast again during his morning shift. Ajax had gotten sprayed with foam that morning, which had blown his beanie off and accidentally turned some poor freshmen to stone. Luckily, Gorgon petrification counted as a valid reason to miss class at Nevermore.
“There’s Ryken!” Wednesday announced, pointing toward the assistant sheriff who passed by on the street in front of them. “Your incessant blathering about nonsense almost made me miss him leave.” She glared at him underneath dark bangs.
Tyler held up his hands in the air. “I didn’t know Taylor would be such a sensitive topic.” While he hadn’t known the subject would hit a sore post, he’d certainly hoped it would.
She side-eyed him again. “Just stay here and behave,” she ordered. “Come on, Thing, we need to go.”
With her trusty right hand on her shoulder, Wednesday jumped out of the car, skirting the walls of the buildings on her way to the back door of the police station.
Tyler sighed. Reduced to the chauffeur once again, just like in the good old days. Although he supposed that was better than despised enemy.
Notes:
So many questions!
Will anyone in this story ever be able to park a car without issue? I suspect not...
Is Taylor the Greek God barista really dead, or may he still be possible to resurrect? (Maybe someone will need to write a fix-it fanfic about him)
Will Tyler obey her order to stay around and behave? (I mean, she does have a taser, but she is also not there...)
And will she be able to find the files from Robert Faulkner's murder (who died in 1993, so like not the 1800s... so much easier to find than the files from Nathaniel Faulkner's murder! Maybe the author should have thought about that earlier!) without getting caught?
Chapter 17: Sometimes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In lieu of a certain venomous book to bide his time, Tyler turned on the stereo as he waited. About a minute later, he turned it off again, having discovered that all the channels were set to K-pop. In desperation, he pulled out the driver’s manual from the glove compartment to try to figure out how to find another station, only to come to the realization that it was only in Korean.
He missed his old car. It hadn’t been very modern or flashy, but it had been his. He’d bought it at a reasonable price from a coworker of his dad, using the money he’d saved up from his shifts at the Weatherwane. He’d fixed it up himself, using YouTube tutorials to learn how to change gaskets and remove rust. He’d meticulously cleaned blood off the upholstery after he woke up in the backseat following one of his early attacks.
The car must still be in police storage since it had been possessed as evidence in the case against him and Thornhill, or it had already been auctioned out to the highest bidder when no one came to claim it.
Frustrated, Tyler threw the indecipherable manual for the stereo in the backseat. It seemed he was left with nothing else to do than to spectate the town that was once his. In the gloomy, dusky night, sprinkled with a light rain, Jericho appeared like nothing had changed since that time. Draping himself across the steering wheel, Tyler couldn’t help but reminisce about a past life that was never truly real.
He missed those days of innocence, despite how dull and eventless the lull had seemed at the time. He missed the promised possibilities of that life, even though they had always been lies.
Sometimes he wondered who he could have been if he hadn’t inherited his mother’s monstrous tendencies. Perhaps his father would still have feared him, but if Donovan didn’t glimpse a monster staring back at him in his son’s anger, the fear may eventually have subsided.
He would have been a townie, a normie, a nobody. A boy with glittery stickers going on walkabouts in the woods. Perhaps small-town life would still have suffocated his spirit. Perhaps he would have gotten away, applied to a liberal arts college, and left Jericho behind. He would have swam in the knowledge of the world, surfed on waves of music, and kissed different girls and boys every night.
He would have thought his fluid attraction to be his biggest secret, fearing his father’s reaction when caught in an intimate moment. He would have been surprised when his father just smiled and shrugged, hoping them a continued good night. He wouldn’t have been able to grasp how much bigger and darker a secret could be. But his father would.
If Tyler had been that boy, he wouldn’t have been used and abused. He wouldn’t have felt the taste of blood on his lips. He wouldn’t have been looked at with fear. He wouldn’t have been significant. He wouldn’t have mattered.
He wouldn’t have met Wednesday, or if he did, she wouldn’t have looked his way, because it was darkness, not sweetness, that drew her in.
Involuntarily, his gaze drifted toward the Weatherwane. That’s where he’d met her. That’s where he’d kissed her. That’s where he’d lost her.
The lights were still on in the café. Borrowing Wednesday’s binoculars, which she’d forgotten in the car, Tyler could see a barista closing up for the night. Wiping down tables. Cleaning the espresso machine. Counting the register. It had been Tyler in there so many nights, cursing whoever assigned him the late-night shift.
Although there was one late shift he would never wish undone.
But it wasn’t Tyler closing up shop for the night anymore. Although the apron-clad figure in there looked familiar. Tyler adjusted the settings on the binoculars to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
Unfortunately, binoculars didn’t help him see through the trees of the town square, which obscured his view. With a sigh, he put them down and instead placed his hand on the door handle.
Tyler knew he shouldn’t leave the car. He knew it was a dumb idea to wander around a town where he was known as the monster-next-door. But he had to sate his curiosity. So he locked the car behind him, flipped up his hoodie, and made sure to stay away from the street lights as he walked toward his former place of work.
He lingered in the shadows provided by the obstructing trees, gazing toward the bright lights of the café. As the barista went up to one of the booths by the window, clearing plates and wiping down the surface, Tyler saw him clearly. It was indeed Lucas Walker. Tyler’s former friend. His best friend, even. Now clad in the same tan polo shirt and red apron Tyler used to wear, battling the same temperamental espresso machine.
They’d been so close once upon a time, before the whole ordeal with Xavier. While only the width of the street separated them at the moment, the actual divide between them rivaled the Grand Canyon. It was impossible to cross.
Tyler stayed in the shadows. He observed Lucas from afar. There was something soothing in seeing him perform everyday tasks that lived in Tyler’s muscle memory. But when walking over to the next window booth, Lucas looked up. He looked toward the town square. He looked at Tyler. Their eyes met. Surprise, mixed with anger, mixed with fear.
Tyler bailed swiftly. He didn’t run as that may draw attention, but he crossed the leaf-covered lawn with swift steps. That’s when he heard the door to the Weatherwane open behind him.
“Galpin?! Lucas yelled. “I know that’s you, Tyler. You better run because you’re not welcome here!” Lowering his voice, he muttered still loud enough for Tyler to hear, “I can’t believe that damn school let you in. If it were up to me, you would be locked up for life.”
Escaping onto the side street where the car was parked, Tyler looked back. He breathed a sigh of relief upon discovering that Lucas wasn’t coming after him. Maybe he was busy gathering the rest of the town so they could chase him down with pitchforks.
The car provided some respite. At least he wasn’t out in the open anymore. But the paranoia wouldn’t wane. It grew in rhythm with his heartbeat, waking the Hyde within. Tyler felt like Lucas could see him. He felt like everyone could see him. He felt like the whole town was judging him. Donovan Galpin’s kid, bringing shame to his memory.
They all hated him. They all feared him. They all wanted him gone.
Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all.
The Hyde told him it could protect him. It would be so easy. If he only let it out.
Pushing his thumbnail into his wrist deep enough to draw blood, Tyler looked around in desperation for some kind of distraction. But everywhere he looked was steeped in memories. The police station where his father worked. The high school he attended until he was expelled. The counseling office where he’d spilled his heart out to his therapist, and later ripped her heart out. He couldn’t get away. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Putting his head against the steering wheel to escape the intrusive memories, he reached a hand toward the stereo in desperation. Soon, catchy tunes blared through the vehicle.
The sound of K-pop brought air back into his lungs and clarity back into his head. Humming along and drumming his fingers against the dashboard, he gained control of his thoughts. Jericho couldn’t get him anymore. The beast didn’t need to protect him.
“What kind of demonic screeching are you listening to?” There was clear disgust in Wednesday’s voice as she stepped into the car. Tyler wasn’t sure if it had been minutes or hours since she left on her mission.
He peeled himself away from the steering wheel, acting like nothing was amiss. “I had to do something while you were away,” he replied. “This was all I could find on the radio.”
“I would rather listen to the calls of rabid hyenas.” With urgency, Wednesday pressed the off button on the stereo. “Did you behave while I was gone?”
“Wouldn’t dare not to,” Tyler mumbled, ignoring to tell her about his encounter with Lucas and subsequent meltdown. “I mean, you do have a taser.” And an explicable hold on him.
“And I’m not afraid to use it.” Wednesday pulled the taser out of her pocket, zapping it briefly to showcase how easy it was. It didn’t scare him. But her hold on him did.
“Did you find anything of use in there?” He pointed toward the police station.
Wednesday nodded, pulling out a thick binder from her backpack, detailing the gruesome details of the death of Robert Faulkner. “Looks are deceiving,” she noted, showcasing document after document filled with thick black marks covering the text. “Everything has been redacted. Except one thing…”
She flipped to the last page of he dossier, pointing toward the name of the assigned police officer. The one responsible for all the blacked-out text. The one who must have tried to cover something up.
Deputy Donovan Galpin.
Notes:
So not quite behaving... luckily, the power of K-pop can tame even the most fearsome Hyde!
If only the writers hadn't killed off Donovan, this would have been so easy to solve! (still kind of salty about that death, as I feel like there was a lot of unexplored potential there regarding his relationship with his son) So who is going to tell them what happened now?
And yes, Tyler is bi in this story. I didn't tag the story as such, as it's not a major plot point; it just fit into the narrative of who he could have been to sneak that in there.
Chapter 18: There's a Dance!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Have you guys seen this?” Agnes appeared out of thin air, holding a flyer, just as Tyler shoveled a forkful of bacon into his mouth.
“Wow!” Ajax almost fell off his chair from the red-headed girl’s sudden arrival beside their table. “Where did you come from?”
“You have got to stop doing that, girl,” Enid growled, her claws instinctively unfolding from the perceived threat.
“Let me see,” Tyler said without looking up from his plate. He’d smelled Agnes the moment she stepped into the cafeteria and had wondered how long it would take for her to get to their table. Putting down his fork, he snatched the flyer from Agnes’ hand.
“All Hallow’s Eve Dance,” he read from the top of the paper. The words were written in what probably had been deemed as a spooky font by the designer, and around them were ominous gravestones and lit candles.
“All Hallow’s Eve is when the school celebrates patrons of the school who have left us,” Agnes explained. “Rosaline Rotwood, Larissa Weems, people like that. Oh, and of course, Nathaniel and Robert Faulkner. And then there is a dance afterward!”
Tyler raised an eyebrow upon hearing the name of the man who had conducted intrusive experiments on his kind. “Who says those people deserve to be celebrated?” he mumbled.
“But there’s a dance!” Agnes insisted.
Ajax took the flyer out of Tyler’s hand. “I’ve heard about this,” he said. “Bianca is on the committee that organizes the event. They’re going with a retro theme, asking us to dress up like in decades past, when the people we’re honoring were at Nevermore.”
“Are you going?” Agnes asked.
Ajax shrugged. “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “I mean, Bianca is, since she is arranging it, but she hasn’t asked me to come with her, and I thought maybe it would be weird for me to ask her when she is already going anyway.”
“You have to ask her!” Agnes squealed. “Maybe she is thinking the same thing, and then neither of you will ask, and wouldn’t that be a tragedy?” There was a hint of tears in her big eyes at the mere thought. She seemed to have quite a loose definition of the word “tragedy”.
“Maybe…” Ajax mumbled, glancing over Bianca at a nearby table. She still steadfastly refused to engage with Tyler.
“What about you?” Agnes turned to Enid. “Are you going?”
Enid sat up straight.“I’m past dances and dates,” she declared confidently. “After all I went through in the woods, I’m focusing on myself this year.”
“And you?”
It took a moment for Tyler to realize that Agnes had addressed him. The carefree nature of a dance didn’t seem like a place where he would fit in. “I think I’ll pass on another opportunity for people to fear me behind my back,” Tyler mumbled, taking another bite of his food.
With a disappointed look about not being able to drum up interest in the coming dance, Agnes turned to Tyler again. “You have to talk to Pugsley for me,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Hint that he should ask me to go. He idolizes you ever since you kidnapped him last year, so he’ll listen to you.”
“Why can’t you ask him yourself?” Tyler sighed. Every time he thought he had escaped involvement in this ridiculous teenage drama, he got pulled right back in.
“I could, but I always start to blush uncontrollably when I try to talk to him. Then he gets distracted, and it’s like I’m not even there.”
“Perhaps he isn’t worth your attention then,” Tyler noted. The boy might just be air-headed and clueless, but it boggled his mind how Agnes’ bold advances could go unnoticed. When Tyler liked someone romantically—in general, that was, he was definitely not thinking of someone in particular—he was attentive to the slightest changes in demeanor and eager to follow their every lead.
An aura of darkness suddenly clouded the table, smelling of black orchids and impending doom. His heart flickered fast. Tyler looked up.
“I thought you were the school pariah who no one wanted to be around?” Wednesday eyed the group of people gathered around Tyler with contempt. “So why is everyone here?”
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, discreetly grabbing his wrist to tell the monster to keep at bay while letting the other students chatter.
“Bianca told me to scram because she was having a meeting with the student council, so I sat down here instead.” Ajax shrugged, like there was nothing weird at all about choosing the seat next to the resident monster of the school.
“I needed to vent about the rest of the students in the rehabilitation wing.” Enid let out an extended sigh. “The vampires always hog the bathroom in the morning to put on their sun block, and I get no time for proper make-up!”
“And I wanted to discuss the coming dance!” Agnes gestured toward the poster that announced the event.
“What is this nonsense?” Wednesday snatched the flyer out of Ajax’s hand.
“All Hallow’s Eve dance! It’s my first proper dance at the school,” Agnes exclaimed.
“All Hallow’s Eve is for honoring departed people of notoriety, not dancing.”
There seemed to be no point in asking Wednesday if she was going to the dance. Not that Tyler cared either way.
“Tyler is going to help me get a date for the dance,” Agnes announced.
“I didn’t promise-”
“I’m not interested in junior high drama.” Wednesday crinkled her nose in disgust.
“With your brother!”
Wednesday’s face turned green. “I need some coffee,” she announced. “Tyler, come with me to the Telltale.”
“It’s not my shift currently.” Tyler protested, although rather meekly. “And I still got food left.”
“I can help you get coffee," Ajax offered, grabbing his tray. “I’m finished with breakfast anyway.”
Wednesday ignored his offer and his very presence, keeping her demanding gaze on Tyler.
“I don’t care if you’re working or not.” She rose, drumming her fingers on the table. “Chop chop, monster boy.”
“Alright, spooky girl.” Tyler sighed, taking a last bite of bacon before abandoning his plate. Apparently, only a certain subpar barista was qualified to make her morning coffee, and that subpar barista was incapable of turning her down.
Before they could exit the cafeteria, Capri came walking toward them. Her colorful, floral maxi skirt and orange cardigan didn’t match her serious expression.
“You two,” she said. “Come with me.”
Tyler froze in place next to Wednesday, nervously looking around. Perhaps the principal had addressed two other people?
“Yes, you two,” she confirmed. “Addams and Galpin. In my office, now. We need to talk about why you were in Jericho last night.”
Notes:
Yes, there is, of course, a dance! Just too bad neither Tyler nor Wednesday is going... (this author is totally not planning their outfits at this very moment)
And yes, we will get back to the mystery at the heart of the story soon, just gotta indulge in some Nevermore shenanigans for a chapter first! (and introduce the concept of the dance, and remind you that Agnes is for some inexplicable reason still into Pugsley, and give Enid and Ajax some more page time, etc)
Chapter 19: Make-out Session
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“What did you do?” Wednesday wheezed toward Tyler as they walked the drafty halls toward the principal’s office. Her lack of coffee this morning made her even less tactful than usual.
“Me? I haven’t done anything.” Tyler replied, holding his arms out to showcase that there was no blood on his hands. At least not today. “I just sat in the car last night and behaved, like you told me to.” That wasn’t entirely true, but his stroll through town could hardly be counted as a crime. “You’re the one who… got your hands dirty.” He lowered his voice and chose his words carefully for the last part so as not to reveal any unnecessary details to Capri.
“I made sure to leave no tracks,” Wednesday assured him as they walked through the doors to the principal’s lair.
“Sit down,” Capri ordered them, pointing at the two chairs in front of her desk. “I’ll just cut right to the chase: Why were you two in Jericho last night?”
“We…” Tyler started. “We weren’t-”
“Tyler, I know exactly where you were. The data doesn’t lie.” She pointed toward his blinking bracelet, which peeked out from underneath his blazer. “You were stationed outside the police station for two hours, despite Santiago explicitly telling you not to traipse around town!”
Tyler had no retort. Luckily, Wednesday was never lost for words. “We were in Enid’s car,” she explained. “No one saw him.”
Except for Lucas. Hopefully, he hadn’t filed a complaint about a certain Hyde running amok in town.
“And why was Enid’s car parked in Jericho for two hours?”
“We borrowed it because we were… on a date.” Wednesday looked almost equally disgusted as when Agnes expressed her interest in Pugsley. Tyler couldn’t help but take the reaction a bit personally. “We got coffee from the Weatherwane for old times' sake, and then we…” She avoided looking at Tyler as she spat out the last part, as if it was venomous, “we made out.”
Capri looked between them with a furrowed brow, perhaps trying to suss out romantic tension from their animosity. “And that’s all that happened?” she asked.
“That’s everything.” Wednesday still refused to look at Tyler, who cooperatively nodded along with her story.
“So you two know nothing about the break-in at the police station last night?”
They shook their heads in unison, while exchanging accusing glances.
Capri lifted an eyebrow. Perhaps they had denied the accusation too eagerly to be believed. “Luckily, no, there was no one at the station at the time, but the whole place got wrecked,” she continued. “The door to the archive room was torn down, and files were flung from the cabinets. Some appear to be missing as well.”
Wednesday turned to Tyler, confusion in her eyes. This definitely didn’t sound like her doing. She was usually much more discreet. He shook his head swiftly in reply, eyes darting between her and Capri. He wasn’t sure what to make of this whole situation.
“That kind of sounds like… a Hyde attack,” he said, careful not to implicate himself, the only Hyde in town.
“That’s what the surveillance tapes seem to indicate as well,” Capri revealed. “They show a figure that resembles a Hyde, and the tracks on the floor point toward the same kind of culprit.”
“Well, it wasn’t me,” Tyler said, truthfully. He’d been a good Hyde and stayed in the car, or at least close to it, the whole time.
“I know,” Capri said. “The attack happened after you two left town, according to your bracelet. But I know Santiago is going to ask why you were in the vicinity only hours before. She may think you were scooping out the scene.”
“Nope…” Tyler blinked nervously as he looked at Wednesday. She avoided meeting his gaze. “Just… making out, I guess.”
“Good.” The principal smiled toward them, like she was their very best buddy. Tyler didn’t smile back. Neither did Wednesday. “I mean, you are teens after all, so activities like that are natural, I suppose, even for…”
“Monsters?” Tyler muttered.
“Troubled outcasts,” Capri insisted.
“So, can we go now?” Wednesday asked, visibly agitated by the chit-chat and probably still keen on that coffee.
“Sure.” Capri sighed, perhaps regretting her recent career change. Being a music teacher must have been so much easier than being the main responsible for hormonal supernatural teens with attitude problems. “But can you two please promise to stay out of Santiago’s way? She’s giving me a hard time about the rehabilitation program as it is. Just lay low.”
“Got it,” Wednesday replied. Tyler suspected she had no intention of doing so. Still, he nodded along with her seeming cooperation.
“Oh, since you two are dating, does that mean I will see you at the All Hallows’ Eve dance? It’s my first major event as a principal, and I’m hoping for a big turnout.”
“Absolutely not,” Wednesday shot down the idea immediately as she rose from her seat. “Tyler, coffee, now.” She snapped her fingers toward Tyler, who scrambled to quickly get out of his seat and follow her lead out the door.
Five minutes later, Wednesday finally had a coffee brewed by her favorite subpar barista. Sipping his own vanilla latte, Tyler sat down beside her on the stone stairs of the courtyard.
“Someone else wanted those files,” she said after an initial infusion of caffeine. “That’s why they broke in. Either they wanted to know what the files said, or prevent us from knowing the content.”
“Well, we don’t know what was in them,” Tyler replied. “My dear dad made sure of that…”
“We must find out,” Wednesday said in a determined tone. “Robert Faulkner’s case is connected to what is happening today. I know it is.”
“How? There is no one left who can tell us about it. Santiago wasn’t on the force yet at the time, so I don’t think she even knows.”
Wednesday took another sip of her almost black brew. “We need to talk to your father about the case. Donovan is the only one who can tell us what happened back in 1993.”
Tyler gave her a befuddled look. “Ehhh… My dad is dead.”
“Not a problem.”
Notes:
Sorry about the teasing chapter title! They are not quite there yet... (but it does make for a good cover story)
And yes, it's time to summon the ghost of Donovan Galpin! The show writers insisted on killing him off, but they can't stop me from bringing him into this story anyway!
Chapter 20: Nice Blazer
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tyler lingered in the doorway to the combined living room and kitchen of his childhood home, scared of touching or even looking at anything. Any accidental glance could cause a stab of pain as locked-away memories escaped their prison. Meanwhile, Wednesday placed candles in a circle at the spot where his father’s favorite recliner used to stand. It was gone now; all that remained was a stain of blood.
“So it’s really that easy?” he asked. “To summon a ghost, I mean.”
“I never said it was easy,” she replied, side-eying him. “Only Ravens have the ability to reach beyond the veil, and only the skilled ones actually succeed.”
“I guess I’m lucky to have you then,” he mumbled. “So we can speak to my old man, I mean.”
He didn’t feel ready. But he supposed talking to one’s dead father wasn’t something you could prepare for. After what happened the last time they saw each other, he had no clue what his father’s attitude toward him would be. There was no guarantee Donovan would even want to engage with him. Truthfully, Tyler wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to his father either. Even if he had known conversing with the dead was a possibility, he probably wouldn’t have chosen to do so if it wasn’t for Wednesday’s insistence on solving this case.
“This seance isn’t for family counseling,” she reminded him. “Our only reason to speak to Donovan is to find out what he knows about Robert Faulkner’s death.”
“Alrighty then…” Tyler mumbled. “So this is all you need to contact a ghost?” He pointed toward the candles on the floor.
“If possible, a seance should be performed in the place where a person died,” she replied, nodding toward the red stains on the carpet. “It’s easier for spirits to pass through the veil there.”
Tyler avoided looking at the splatter of his father’s blood. Acknowledging its existence would be acknowledging his own part in his father’s death. Donovan had been killed for his concern for what would happen to his son at Willow Hill. While their relationship had been complicated and Tyler had, during twisted moments of rage, wished for his father’s demise, the guilt still plagued him.
“I also need an object that was meaningful to the person.” Wednesday produced a shield-shaped metal object from her pocket and placed it in the middle of the circle. Tyler recognized it as his father’s police badge.
“Why do you have that?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I took some stuff I needed to investigate his death. You can have it afterward if you want.”
He shrugged as well. “I don’t need it,” he replied.
“Then there’s one more thing I need.” With a menacing, albeit pretty, grin on her face, Wednesday approached him. Tyler flinched as she pulled up a knife from her boot.
“What are you doing with that?” he asked, a few octaves higher than usual.
“Relax, monster boy,” she said, making him even less relaxed. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she pinned him to the wall. If he wanted to, he could resist, but obeying was part of his nature. “I just need this.” With the knife dangerously close to his temple, she cut off a curl of his hair. “A sacrifice from a blood relative of the deceased.”
“You could have just said that.” He shook his hair out and made sure it still fell in place like it should. “Instead of wielding a knife in my face with no warning.”
“I could have,” she confirmed. “But this was more fun.” There was almost a hint of a smile on her darkly painted lips. He almost returned it.
After placing the curl in a bowl among the candles, she grabbed a box of matches. “You should stay behind me,” she said, gesturing for Tyler to come over. “That’s where it's safest. When the veil is down, sinister forces can sneak through as well.”
“I didn’t know you were so concerned about my safety?” Tyler obeyed her order and took his place by Wednesday, who had sat down at one end of the circle with her legs crossed.
“I’m not,” she assured him, throwing him a dark look. “But I need you to solve this case.”
“The case of proving my innocence, you mean? Yeah, I can see how unconcerned you are.”
She didn’t reply; instead, she looked away from him to light a match. One after one, she lit the candles in the circle, finishing by setting the curl from Tyler’s hair on fire. “Shut up so I can focus,” she sniped at him, who took a step backward not to disrupt the process.
While the stinging smell of burnt hair filled the air, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Tyler couldn’t help but admire her precision and confidence as she whisked her hand across the flames of the candles. Too swift to burn, too close to not feel the heat on her palms. Under her breath, she chanted a hymn. “Through the veil we summon thee. You who bore this token in life. You who sired the sacrifice. You who fell on this mark.”
A chilling wind gust circled the room, like a miniature tornado indoors. Papers flew across the room, hair tousled in the wind, and the flames of the candles flickered. But they remained aflame.
The wind spiral continued, centering at the doorway. Eventually, it took the shape of a man, dressed in a police uniform and hat. That must be how Donovan pictured himself, or perhaps that’s how Tyler pictured his father. He wasn’t quite sure how the dress code in the afterlife worked.
“Dad…” Tyler whispered, not quite believing his eyes. He knew Wednesday was formidable, but he hadn’t realized exactly what magic she could perform. This wasn’t just a specter or blurry illusion. This was his father, just as he’d appeared in life.
Donovan looked around the trashed house, filled with graffiti and broken furniture, before his gaze turned to Tyler.
“Son.” He acknowledged Tyler’s presence with a nod. “I hoped it would be you calling me. Nice blazer.” Donovan pointed toward the striped Nevermore uniform draped over Tyler’s hoodie. It certainly was different than the shackles and shock collar he’d worn last time they’d met.
“They gave me a chance.” Tyler shrugged, suddenly feeling the weight of his father’s expectations on his shoulders.
“I hope you’re taking it.” The faint smile on his father’s lips made Tyler feel a bit more at ease.
Wednesday jumped in. “We didn’t call upon you to make small talk with your son, Sheriff Galpin. We need information about a case you worked on in the 90s.”
Donovan scoffed. “I thought I explicitly forbade you from hanging out with this girl, Tyler.”
“Well, did you really expect me to listen?” Tyler had never taken Donovan’s admonitions as more than suggestions, knowing that his father was too distant to follow up on punishment anyway.
“I did not. And I’m glad you didn’t.”
Death seemed to have softened his father, or life had, after everything Donovan fought for had crumbled, leaving him disgraced and alone.
Wednesday butted in again. “I’m trying to catch whoever is trying to frame Tyler for a slew of Hyde attacks. If you two stop chit-chatting, we can cut to the chase.”
Tyler nodded, taking a deep breath before addressing his father again. “We need to know what you know about the death of Robert Faulkner, dad, because it seems that case is related to what is happening now.”
Donovan sighed deeply, like he’d suspected this was coming. “I suppose I should have told you about this long ago, son. I will tell you about Robert Faulkner, but first, I need to tell you about how I met your mother, because those two things are connected.”
Notes:
So there he is! In the flesh (well, not really...). Donovan Galpin!
And Wednesday definitely could have asked Tyler for that curl, but what would have been the fun in that? Now she got to both torture him and touch those luscious curls a bit. Win-win!
Chapter 21: How I Met Your Mother
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Darkness had fallen outside the windows. The dim room was only illuminated by the flickering candles, kept in motion by Wednesday’s hand to keep the connection to the other side. It was the perfect time for a spooky tale of love and monsters.
“I was quite new to the force back then,” Donovan started, taking a step toward his son. Tyler still couldn’t get over how lifelike he appeared. It was as if he’d never left the confines of this realm. “I was assigned to investigate a slew of supposed animal attacks in the forests around Jericho.”
“It’s never animal attacks, though, is it?” Wednesday glanced toward Tyler, whose attacks had also been dismissed as such initially.
“You’re right,” Donovan agreed. “And I suspected that at the time as well. A group of hikers was attacked while camping at Pine Crest. The attacks happened at night, so they didn’t get a good look at the suspect, but they all said the creature was much larger than a bear or wolf.”
“They all lived to tell the tale?” Tyler asked, seeing a common theme between these attacks and the current ones. If a Hyde aimed to kill, no one would stand a chance, but somehow, these Hydes kept missing.
“Yeah, those guys were lucky. The next victim wasn’t. The man was out hunting deer by himself. He was found the next morning, ripped to shreds.”
The Hyde in question didn’t always miss then.
“So what was your theory on the culprit?”
“Since no known animal in these woods could do such damage, my instinct was that this had to be a monster of supernatural origin.”
Tyler scoffed at his father’s choice of words. He, if anyone, should know a Hyde was more than a monster. He’d married one.
Although for some reason, Tyler had no issues when Wednesday called him monster boy…
“So you went to where the monsters are?” Tyler glanced down at the Nevermore emblem on his blazer, reminding his father that he was one of them now. He was one of those despised outcasts he’d always been told to keep away from.
“I visited Nevermore, yes. Although the principal, Robert Faulkner, wouldn’t let me into the school grounds, I surveilled the woods around the campus, looking for any kind of clues or signs that the monster had come from there. And that’s when I ran into her.” His eyes looked off in the distance, as if he saw her, just as she’d looked back then. “Francoise. My Fran.”
“But mom wasn’t a student at that time? She must have graduated in the 80s.”
“She wasn’t. But Francoise stayed at Nevermore past graduation to keep an eye on her sickly younger brother. She was a skilled fencer, and they employed her to coach the school team.”
“Isaac…” Tyler mumbled. He didn’t harbor fond memories of the short time he spent with his decidedly weird uncle.
“You know about him then,” Donovan noted. “I never met him. He had disappeared about a year before I met Fran that day. I ran into her in a clearing while she practiced fencing. I thought I was slick, hiding in the bushes as I didn’t want to be caught snooping around the place, but she spotted me right away. Pointed her sabre at my throat.” He chuckled as he reminisced.
Apparently fondness for light murderous treats was a family trait.
“What about the case?” Wednesday asked impatiently, her hand not swaying in its trajectory over the candles.“We don’t have all day for dilly-dallying, sheriff.”
“I’m getting to that, Miss Addams.” Donovan rolled his eyes, apparently as much of a charmer in death as in life. “After our initial misunderstanding, Fran offered to help look for the monster in exchange for me showing her normie life. She told me she came from a family of outcasts, but had no powers herself. I believed her.” He sighed at how gullible he’d been. “We started to meet up at the Weatherwane, drinking coffee and discussing theories of what kind of monster we were dealing with.”
“Was it during that time that this picture was taken?” Tyler held up the photograph he’d found in the fire pit by the cabin.
“Where did you get that from, son?” Donovan asked, lifting a bushy eyebrow.“I haven’t seen that in a long time.”
“I found it at the cabin. Who took it?”
“Fred…” Donovan looked down, as if he didn’t want to think of the guy. “Fred Faulkner. He was the son of Robert and worked as an art teacher at Nevermore. Fran was friends with him, although I think he wanted to be more than friends with her.”
“So why was he by the cabin with you?”
“Because I suspected him of being the monster. He painted these creepy paintings of blood splatter and guts that seemed to connect to the attacks and monster tracks that led to his painting shed at the school grounds. I didn’t know what kind of monster I was dealing with, but I was sure whatever it was had to be him.”
This story sounded awfully familiar… was “The Monster, The Sleuth, and The Creepy Art Nerd that no one likes” a tale that replayed on Nevermore every thirty years or so?
Maybe when Donovan forbade Wednesday and Tyler from seeing each other back in their own rendition of that play, he hadn’t just been concerned for his son, but also for the sleuth playing his role. He’d tried to prevent Wednesday from making the same mistake as he did and falling for the monster, knowing how tragic the ending of the tale would be.
“I invited Fred on a hunting trip to suss some information from him. Fran also came along, although she claimed not to enjoy hunting, so she stayed behind at the cabin and cooked.” Donovan smiled at the memory. “We shared our first kiss by the campfire after Fred had tucked in for the night.”
That was a bit more information than Tyler needed. Although it was nice to for once know too much about his mother rather than too little. He’d never been able to picture his parents sharing a happy moment before.
“But Fred wasn’t the monster, was he?” Wednesday asked, her hands whooshing faster and faster over the candles.
Donovan shook his head, sighing as he dived into painful memories. “He was not. And I think you both have figured out by now who was actually behind the attacks?”
“Mom…” Tyler mumbled.
“That’s right…” Donovan looked straight at Tyler, but it seemed like he saw someone else. Someone who was just like him. Another monster Donovan had loved. “But it wasn’t like you think. It wasn’t… her fault.”
He still covered for her, after all these years. Just like he’d covered for his son.
“How did you figure it out?” Tyler asked. “That it was her, I mean.”
Since Donovan didn’t possess psychic powers, it couldn’t be the same way as Wednesday figured out his monstrous nature: a kiss that unlocked the truth.
“I didn’t,” Donovan shook his head again, as if not believing how naive he’d been. “Not until she attacked me, ordered to do so by her master.”
“Who was?”
A sudden wind gust blew through the house, extinguishing the candles. Where Donovan had stood was suddenly nothing.
“Dad!” Tyler reached out toward where his father had stood. It was too late. He was gone. He’d been gone for a long time.
A thump came from the circle below. Wednesday had fallen backward onto the floor, her braids cascading like snakes around her.
Tyler hadn’t been able to catch her this time.
“Wednesday!” he yelled. He received no reply. Without the candlelight, the room was pitch black. He couldn’t see what was going on. With his heart beating fast, he crouched down beside her to feel for a breath. A small puff of air hit the back of his hand when he placed it in front of her face. She was alive.
“Wednesday,” he pleaded, cradling her limp body in her arms. He shook her gently to bring her back to consciousness.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t move. But when the moonlight, until now hidden by insistent clouds, lit her face, he was horrified to see black tears streaming from her eyes.
Notes:
This chapter goes out to Ted Moseby, who took a hell of a lot longer to tell his tale than Donovan did. (Let's hope I can end this story better than the HIMYM writers did.)
I couldn't help but take a light jab at Xavier; that guy is just such a bore!
Fran, being a fencing coach rather than a student at this time, is because I use her earlier birth year (1969, according to her gravestone) to have her and Donovan be of similar ages when they met. So my headcanon is that she was during the events at the clock tower that we are shown in season 2 wasn't actually a student but still at the school as a coach (and to look after Isaac). So that would make her a bit older than Gomez/Morticia (but she could still have been at the fencing this with Morticia when she was still a student, although they weren't the same age). It kinda works, I guess (as well as anything on the show works...)
I also want to thank everyone who took time out of their day to check this story out! I appreciate every read and comment. I wasn't sure anyone would want to read this, so it's amazing to see that the story actually seems to be resonating with a lot of you. I also don't really know anything about promoting fanfiction, so I just kind of put the story up here (and on Wattpad) to see what would happen.
Chapter 22: Silent Monster
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Wednesday!” he called out again, rocking her body gently. He stroked away her bangs from her forehead to make sure she wasn’t bleeding from the fall. “Please wake up!”
No reply. No movement. Nothing.
Terrified but determined to do what he could to aid her, Tyler lifted Wednesday’s limp body into his arms. The Hyde had no objections, for once. No orders to exterminate called out in his mind. Perhaps even the monster could see that she posed no threat to his well-being in this state, or it had given up on Tyler ever listening to its repetitive commands.
Her head fell against his shoulder. Black tears tainted his school blazer. If this were one of her visions, surely, she would have woken up by now. So this must be something else, something scarier.
What should he do? Where should he take her? A hospital would be the obvious choice, but he doubted they had cures for paranormal ailments. Because Tyler was certain that whatever had happened to Wednesday originated in her connection to the realm of the dead, where his father resided.
He needed someone who knew about outcasts and their maladies. He needed Capri. She was the only person he could think of to go to. She’d helped him, and now she needed to help Wednesday.
But Nevermore was several miles away. They’d travelled to Jericho in Enid’s car but parked across town to not draw unwanted attention to their whereabouts. A pink car on the driveway of the Galpin house may stick out. Tyler regretted that decision now.
Spurring his panicked brain to improvise a plan on the spot, he walked toward the garage. Tyler Galpin, the resident monster, walking around town with an unconscious girl in his arms, would not be a good look. It may hinder their arrival at Nevermore if someone saw them and called the police. So he planned to use the exit toward the backyard and then cross the wooded area behind to take a shortcut toward the parking lot.
Having lived in the house they were in for seventeen years, Tyler knew the exact layout like the back of his hand. He’d sneaked around these hallways in the dark many times, when arriving home a bit—or a lot—later than his father had instructed him. After leaving the living room, he entered the main hallway. Three doors down, he pressed down the handle to the back door, which opened to the garage. He nudged the light switch with his elbow. The fluorescent lighting in the ceiling blinked twice before bathing the room in its sheen. Tyler gasped. In the middle of the space stood a sparkling silver car, tucked away from prying eyes.
Tyler’s car.
His dad must have claimed it from the police impound. He must have cleaned it and made it shine. He must have left it there because he still harbored some hope for his son’s improbable return.
Now Tyler was back, but Donovan was gone.
Tyler didn’t let that thought linger. This wasn’t the time to deal with that particular trauma. But the unexpected appearance of his car was perhaps the was the solution he needed to save Wednesday. Through the driver's window, he noticed a familiar keychain bearing a green-haired troll doll dangling from the ignition.
He walked around the vehicle, opened the passenger door, and placed Wednesday on the seat, where he made sure to secure her with the seat belt. The drive back to Nevermore would be quick and reckless. Every second could be valuable.
The driver’s seat was still set perfectly for him. With his heart pounding rapidly, Tyler turned the ignition. Would it work, or was this all a waste of time?
After a few coughs, the engine started to hum. Tyler glanced at the fuel indicator. The tank was half-full. Enough to take them back to Nevermore. He glanced toward Wednesday, checking that her ribcage was still heaving in shallow breaths, before quickly jumping out to press the lever for the garage door. It would auto-close behind him.
Rolling out from the driveway, Tyler pressed down the gas pedal hard. As long as they were within Jericho’s city limits, he made sure to obey speed limits, as this was not the time to get caught for a traffic violation. But once he reached the winding roads that led to Nevermore, he revved the poor car to its limit. The dark woods outside whooshed by in a blur. Tyler’s only focus was on the road and on the girl beside him.
Just as Tyler pulled into the Nevermore parking lot, Wednesday started to stir. “Hold on,” he mumbled, instinctively putting his hand on her shoulder.
The touch made her snap awake. With big saucer eyes, she looked toward him. “What’s happening?” she asked. “Where are we?”
“You passed out,” he explained. “I’m taking you back to Nevermore. I didn’t know what was happening, so I hoped maybe Capri could help.”
“Don’t tell her,” Wednesday ordered, wiping away black tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. “Don’t tell anyone about this.” Her piercing look through slightly squinted eyes told him she meant business.
He gave her a long look, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Her stern expression gave nothing away. With a sigh, he gave up, opting to park the car—luckily, no parallel parking was required—before trying to solve the enigma that was Wednesday Addams. After turning off the ignition, he tilted his body toward her.
“Has this happened to you before?” he asked, noting her lack of concern about the black tears.
Wednesday nodded. “The tears are a sign of psychic exhaustion,” she explained. “They’ve been caused by my visions in the past. Although it hasn’t happened since my aunt Ophelia helped me control my powers.”
“Did you have a vision back at the house?” Tyler asked, dreading whatever monster-related tidbit she’d been served in his former home.
“No. But seances tap into the same abilities. I must have kept the connection to the other realm for too long.” She side-eyed him. “You and your dad just kept chit-chatting…”
“You should have told me about the risks beforehand. The black tears… You really scared me there.”
“Always happy to cause some fright,” she noted, a hint of a smile adorning her dark lips. “I’ll be alright, monster boy. I appreciate your concern.”
She grabbed the door handle and swung her legs around to exit the vehicle. But when her feet hit the gravel, her body collapsed, falling on the hard ground.
“Wednesday!” Tyler called out, for not the first time this evening. Jumping out of the car, he quickly ran around the hood to check on her.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though it was obviously not true. She picked some pebbles out of her palms, pretending like nothing was amiss.
“Stop saying that,” he sighed, crouching down beside her on the cold gravel.
“My legs are a bit weak at the moment,” she admitted. “And my arms as well.” She lifted a hand only to have it fall down immediately.
“That’s it, I’m getting Capri,” Tyler decided, rising to run inside for assistance. This was not a situation he was capable of or qualified to handle.
“Please don’t!” Wednesday reached out a meek hand toward his pant leg, only for it to land on the gravel.
“So what should I do?” he asked, feeling powerless and useless. He suspected she was hiding something about her ailment, but it wasn’t his place to prod in her business.
“Carry me to my room,” she ordered. “I just need some rest. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Alright,” he mumbled, bending down to pick her up again. The monster didn’t mind the closeness this time either, keeping silent while they walked across the parking lot and continued up the stairs to Ophelia Hall.
Notes:
To clarify a bit around the black tears (although there will be more in the story later): My headcanon is that Wednesday's issue regarding her visions was resolved in the imagined season 3 before this story (somehow related to the Ophelia plot). But the black tears remain a symptom of psychic exhaustion, and holding seances takes a lot out of her (more than she would admit to Tyler). So she pushed herself too hard (and may now be depleted of her powers for the time being).
Also, I had to create a situation where Tyler had to carry around Wednesday!
I'll see if I can keep up this breakneck updating speed during next week. I may need some extra time to plot, since I initially planned to have Donovan tell his whole story in one session, but I figured that might be too much. So now I need to figure out how to tell this next section of the story. I do have the next chapter or two drafted, though (and a lot of later stuff as well, just not the coming chapters after those).
Chapter 23: When You Kissed Me
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Just turn it to the left and give it a yank,” Wednesday impatiently explained, having handed Tyler the keys to her room.
“I’m trying…” he mumbled, although it was a bit of a struggle balancing the girl in his arms as well as executing fine motor tasks. While he was relieved that Wednesday had woken up, it was more difficult to carry someone while they were also critiquing your performance.
“You’re turning it to the right, though.” Wednesday sighed at his incompetence.
He rolled his eyes. “This is my left,” he said. Figuring he should try the other way, he reluctantly changed the direction of the key and then yanked it slightly as he felt resistance. The door slid open annoyingly easily.
Luckily, Bianca wasn’t in the room. She must be busy with one of her many school obligations and clubs. Hopefully, it was a Nightshade mission that kept her busy all night, so she wouldn’t suddenly barge in and object loudly to Tyler’s presence. He had enough on his plate at the moment; he may not be able to keep the monster at bay if he were met with such hostility.
“Put me down there,” Wednesday ordered, pointing toward her bed, which was an imposing contraption with ornate Victorian bedposts and a black canopy. Setting her down gently on the checkerboard bedspread, it seemed to swallow her whole. She looked smaller and less intimidating than usual. Her skin was paler, akin to the color of a porcelain doll, and her lips had turned a dark purplish color. Her weakened state must be getting to her, even if she would never admit it.
Feeling an urge to take care of her somehow, Tyler grabbed a crocheted blanket from a chest beside the table, spreading it across her legs. Wednesday gave him a peculiar look, as if wondering what he, the ferocious Hyde, was doing, but didn’t shed the blanket; instead, she tucked it in closer.
“You can go now,” she said in a detached voice while avoiding meeting his eyes. Perhaps she was embarrassed about having to be carried in his arms and being doted on. Being weak and fragile wasn’t acceptable to Wednesday Addams, but yet, not even she had to give in to the human condition at times.
Tyler gave her a long look, hoping she would change her mind. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to make sure she was cared for. And deep down, he hoped she didn’t want him to leave either. But when no such change of heart came, he turned, walking toward the door.
When he pressed down the door handle, she finally spoke. “Tyler…” she sighed, as if she couldn’t believe she was giving in.
He looked back at her. He met her gaze. He saw loneliness and confusion. Wednesday didn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to. Tyler already knew that she didn’t want to be alone. Closing the door again, he hurried back to the bed.
She patted the comforter beside her, beckoning him to sit down. Tyler obeyed, as he always did, sinking into the rigid mattress which was about as cozy as a gravestone. How could she sleep on this? Being close to her in such an intimate place made him feel a bit uncomfortable. This was her castle. He didn’t belong here. He was the invader.
Noticing her shiver in the drafty room, he pulled off his blazer and put it over her shoulder. She accepted it with a nod, pulling the clothing item closer to her.
“You know…” She broke the silence, but avoided his gaze, opting to stare straight ahead.“I’m not your master, Tyler. You don’t always have to obey.”
He nodded, although his mind couldn’t quite comprehend how such interactions would function. “I know,” he mumbled.
She turned her head slightly, glancing at him as if to wager if he’d actually taken in the information. “You have a choice,” she assured him. “You always do.”
He shook his head. His life had been filled with people telling him what to do and who to be: his father, Thornhill, his mother. “When did I ever have a choice?” he muttered.
The night fell silent, vibrating with unspoken words. They’d never been so close to the truth before.
Her voice was low, almost a whisper, when she asked: “When you kissed me?”
Oh…
She didn’t know. She didn’t know whether his feelings had ever been true or just orders he followed.
He looked away, unable to meet her dark gaze. “You kissed me, Wednesday,” he countered. It was a deflection to hide the true answer.
She rolled her eyes, as if she knew he was stalling. “I didn’t force myself upon you. I don’t remember you walking away. ”
He forced himself to look her way, not wavering. “I remember you doing exactly that.”
It was her turn to look away. “Because I saw the truth.”
“And it scared you?”
She shook her head, braids bumping against her shoulders. “No.” Fear was not an emotion that Wednesday Addams may even be capable of. “Because you didn’t tell me.”
He scoffed. As if it had ever been that easy. “Wednesday, has it occurred to you that maybe I did tell you? In the only way I could. My head was filled with Thornhill’s crap, so many lies and orders, but deep down, I wanted you to know. And I knew you would find out if I let you that close. You were the one person who wouldn’t shun me for being a monster.”
Wednesday turned, looking long and hard at the boy beside her, as if she didn’t know what to do with what he’d just said. “So you did choose?” She finally asked, her voice whisking like the wind. “You chose to kiss me?”
He didn’t know what to say. Every answer felt wrong. So he just nodded lightly, confirming her statement.
He had chosen to kiss her, and now she knew. He’d been a fool in love, thinking she would save him. But his secrets had been too dark even for her.
Her unrelenting gaze bore into him, searching for a truth that may not be there. First, it pierced into his eyes, and then it fell downward, lingering at his lips, as if she couldn’t believe the words he’d just spoken.
As if she couldn’t believe her own lips had once savored their taste.
As if she wanted to have another bite.
Instinctively, he leaned forward. She cocked her head to the side.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could still save him.
Kill Wednesday Addams! Kill Wednesday Addams! Kill Wednesday Addams!
The monster was back. Tyler ignored it. He knew it wanted to protect him from being a fool once again, but he didn’t need it to shield him. Not from her.
Tap, tap, tap!
A knock on the door made them both pull back, losing each other’s gaze.
“Addams!” Capri called out from outside. “Is Galpin in there?”
The ticking grandfather clock at the end of the bed indicated that it was past curfew. Way past. The principal must have checked his whereabouts when it was reported he wasn’t in his room. He glared at the blinking cuffs. Apparently, he couldn’t get any privacy around here.
“He’s here,” Wednesday confirmed, avoiding Tyler’s gaze once again. “You can come in.”
Capri turned the handle to open the door, throwing a suspicious look toward the two teenagers curled up on the bed.
Wednesday gave Tyler a death glare, making a zipping motion across her mouth. She was keeping him to his previous promise of keeping silent about her condition.
“At least you’re not running wild in the woods this time.” The long-suffering principal sighed, probably evaluating all her life choices. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your room.” She clapped her hand on the door, gesturing for Tyler to follow.
Leaving was the last thing Tyler wanted to do. Not now. Not ever. He threw Wednesday a desperate look, feeling torn between impossible choices.
“I’m alright,” she assured him. “You should go.” She perked up, almost smiling toward him. “Can’t have you expelled, monster boy.”
He nodded lightly, seeing the wisdom in not breaking school rules. “I’ll check on you tomorrow,” he promised, letting his hand pat her knees as he rose. She didn’t flinch or swat his hand away, but she also didn’t meet his gaze, which made him wonder if the almost-kiss had been real or just existed in his head.
Notes:
I'm sorry! But we can't have a slow-burn without some almost-kisses!
There may be a small break until the next chapter (but not more than a week at the most) as I plan the coming part of the story. I really wanted to get to this chapter, though, as it feels key to the story. I actually drafted parts of this dialogue (the "When did I ever have a choice?" - "When you kissed me?" part) very early on when I started writing this story, and while I didn't know exactly in which scene it would be said, I knew it needed to be in there.
Chapter 24: The Birds, The Bees, And The Hydes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Come on, let’s get you to your room, Tyler,” Capri said, gesturing for him to follow her down the stairs.
Tyler threw a final glance at the door to Wednesday’s room. If it were up to him, he would say to hell with curfews and other stupid rules and run back in. But Wednesday had asked him not to, and he suspected Capri might disagree with such antics as well.
While Wednesday had told him he had a choice in life, it certainly didn’t feel like it. He was still controlled by mothers and masters, even if he wasn’t forced by nature to obey their orders.
“Right behind you,” Tyler mumbled, deciding protest was futile. At least, Wednesday had Thing with her. She would be fine. He would check on her the next morning, as he’d promised.
“You look like you need some sleep anyway,” Capri noted, looking back at Tyler.
He was admittedly exhausted. Talking to your dead dad and then tending to an emergency involving a girl with whom he had a complicated relationship, to say the least, apparently drained one’s energy. Today’s events had also involved a lot of carrying, which may contribute to his fatigue, as well as the fact that it was well past midnight.
“I suppose I may be a bit tired…” Tyler mumbled, stifling a yawn. Robotically, he followed the principal down the stairs. It was all too easy for him to slip into the role of following commands.
After exiting the imposing doors to Ophelia Hall, Capri turned to him with an unusually stern expression. Tyler had seen that expression before, from his father, from teachers, and from staff at Willow Hill. It was time for another lecture on his misbehaviour. Fun!
“Galpin,” she started. “I trust that you’re familiar with the workings of the birds and the bees?”
This wasn’t what he’d expected to be questioned about at this hour, or at all. The unexpected question made Tyler’s cheeks heat up. The Hyde probably hid deep down from pure embarrassment. “I’m…” he mumbled. “I mean… I think I’m familiar enough, why?”
It wasn’t like his father ever sat him down for one very awkward conversation about how babies were made, but there were other ways to obtain such information for a curious teenage boy, luckily.
Capri looked at him as if he were stupid. “To put it frankly, your enrollment here is already tenuous as it is, Tyler. There have been complaints from parents of students about your presence. You really don’t want to add teenage pregnancy to your already strained record.”
“Oh…” he stuttered, realizing the optics of the situation Capri was walking him away from. He’d been caught late at night in the bed of a girl whom he was presumably dating. “We’re not… I mean, not like that.” He shook his head ferociously to deny the accusation. His whole face burned, probably enough to light up the night. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he assured the principal while looking down at his feet.
“I will hold you to that,” Capri said. “Because if anything… further happens, I may not be able to protect you anymore, Tyler.”
He furrowed his brow, figuring he may as well ask a question that had been on his mind for a while. “Why are you?” He asked, the blush falling from his face. “Protecting me, I mean. I didn’t ask you to. I don’t… deserve any of this.”
“You do, Tyler,” she assured him. “You deserve it. Just like everyone else. Just like Alfie.”
“Alfie?” he asked, not remembering any students by this name.
“I knew Alfie a long time ago. He was a Hyde, just like you,” Capri replied, looking away into he distance as she reminisced. “I loved him, but we never had a chance.”
“Did you know he was a Hyde?” Tyler asked. That you sometimes turned into a giant growling murderous monster was quite a big thing to drop on someone on a first date, and he wasn’t sure how you would even bring up such a thing later on. It was probably easier just to date someone who already knew your monstrous nature.
Perhaps someone who was even drawn to it.
“I did not,” she replied with a sigh. “Alfie had to hide his true powers his whole life, afraid to be shunned for them. I didn’t find out until the end, when he tried to kill me.”
People almost getting killed by Hydes they loved seemed to be somewhat of a theme for the day. And yet, both his father and Capri had walked away from the attacks.
“He had a master?”
Capri nodded. “Alfie was used by masters his whole life. His father tried to control him and use his powers during his upbringing, but he escaped, right into the arms of a conniving woman. She became his master. She grew obsessed with him. Even when he tried to get away, he couldn’t truly escape her clutches.”
Tyler knew that dynamics all too well. Thornhill had used his every weakness, crawling under his skin until he barely knew the difference between his own choices and hers. She’d undressed him and degraded him. She’d seemed to enjoy it.
“You still fell in love with him?”
“I did. Although even today, I don’t know what was real or not. Loving a Hyde is difficult. And his master came for him eventually.”
“She told him to kill you?”
Capri nodded. “It happened on a full moon, so I could fight back. In the mayhem that followed, his claws accidentally slit his master’s throat. But it was too late, my claws had already pierced his heart. They both bled out right there.”
Tears lined her eyes as she recalled the harrowing moment. But there was one detail that just didn’t add up.
“A Hyde doesn’t make mistakes,” Tyler mumbled. “If Alfie killed his master, it’s because he meant to do so.”
Capri looked up at him, a hopeful smile hiding beneath the layer of tears. “You think so?” she asked.
“I know so. I may not know everything about birds and bees, but I know about Hydes.” Stopping himself before he revealed too much, Tyler started to walk toward the dorm again. “Come on, I think you were walking me back to my room. I am, after all, a very dangerous monster who shouldn’t be out this late.”
Notes:
I just had to embarrass the poor guy a bit! I'm sorry!
Note that this isn't a mature story, though, so the birds and the bees will just be brought up to make the poor characters cringe. I want this story to feel like it fits into the universe of the show, so such scenes just wouldn't fit the tone.
Chapter 25: Monster to Monster
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Hyde screamed in Tyler’s head that night. It wanted to be let out. It wanted to protect him, because no one else ever had. It wanted to kill them all, everyone who had ever wronged him or let him down.
Kill them! Kill them! Kill them all!
In between the screams, there were flashes of memories. His father yelling and raising his hand. Wednesday tasing him when interrogating him. His father shooting to kill his only son. Wednesday walking away from his cell at Willow Hill.
Kill your father! Kill Wednesday Addams!
The Hyde told him he couldn’t trust them. He couldn’t forgive them. He couldn’t love them. Sometimes it was Thornhill’s voice he heard, blended in with the monster’s screams. He still couldn’t quite distinguish her words from his own. He still didn’t fully know what had been real or not. Her last order, yelled at him when she sent him back to the crypt, which had rang in his ears for months at Willow Hill, echoed through his dreams once again.
If Wednesday Addams is still alive, I order you to kill her! That is your only objective for now on. And if anyone gets in the way, you kill them as well. Any of her little friends. Your damn father. You kill them, do you hear me, Tyler! And then you fucking kill Wednesday Addams! Kill her! KILL HER!”
Tyler woke up from a knock on the door, soaked in sweat, and confused about his whereabouts.
It was only when he stretched his arms out that he realized he wasn’t chained. A hand to his throat confirmed he wasn’t collared with electricity. He wasn’t at Willow Hill. He wasn’t stuck in the loop of orders.
Another soft knock on the door followed. The touch was too gentle to be Wednesday, who probably would have barged in by now anyway.
Tyler jumped up, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. His body shivered from the cold and fright. He grabbed his favorite green hoodie from the desk chair and pulled it on before opening the door.
The door slid open to reveal a girl in slightly askew pigtails, an oversized unicorn t-shirt, and fluffy bunny slippers. Usually, he could smell wolves from miles away, but his senses must be numbed from the harrowing dream. “Hi…” Enid started, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt while trying to keep a yawn at bay. “I just wondered if you’re… alright?”
“I’m fine,” Tyler lied, hoping the dark room hid his shivering limbs.
Enid rolled her eyes. “Don’t try that with me,” she said. “I could hear you screaming through the wall.”
“So why did you even ask then?” he mumbled, shuffling to the side as Enid barged into his room. “If you know I’m not alright, I mean.”
She shrugged. “Just habit, I guess. So do you want to talk about it?” Taking the liberty to sit down on his bed, she patted for him to sit down next to her. “Monster to monster, I guess.”
This question must also just be by habit, since Enid had already made herself comfortable to listen. “I suppose it won’t hurt.” Tyler sighed deeply, slumping onto the crumpled-up blankets.
“Is it your Hyde who is plaguing you?” she asked.
“Something like that…” he covered his face with his hands, trying to find clarity in his brain to even describe what was going on. “The Hyde just wants out. It wants to go on a rampage. It wants… to protect me. But I know it will hurt people. People that I care about.”
Enid nodded. “I think I know what that is like.” She patted his arm. “At least a little bit. I mean, it’s not exactly the same, but during full moons, it feels like my wolf is about to burst out of me. It’s like it’s howling on the inside.” She tapped her hand above her heart to illustrate. “And I want to let it, because I feel so free in that form, like I can do anything.” Her eyes glittered at the memory of running wild as a wolf.
“Like I can defend myself from anyone,” Tyler added, and Enid nodded in agreement. “It’s… intoxicating. To have that power.”
“It is,” she agreed. “But it’s dangerous to give in unless you absolutely have to, to defend yourself or someone you love.”
“So what do you do? To keep the wolf at bay, I mean.”
“Well, there are the lupin cages.”
“Those don’t help me,” he scoffed, wrapping his arms around himself to quell the shivers.
“Pampering can also work. It helps me center myself and make the wolf part of me instead of fighting it.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Let me show you!”
Ten minutes later, Tyler’s room smelled like vanilla and sounded like a rain forest. Scented candles were placed everywhere, and Enid’s phone was set to a playlist of relaxing tunes.
“And this is for you.” She handed him a delicate teacup filled with a pink brew.
“What is it?” he asked, wrinkling his nose from the perfume-like scent.
“Rose petal tea,” she declared enthusiastically. “Infused with ginger. It’s good for calming you and connecting you to your inner wolf.”
“I’m not a wolf,” he protested.
“Just drink,” she insisted. “And then… inhale.” She took a deep, exaggerated breath to illustrate.
He did as told, but not without a skeptical glare. The tea tasted like potpourri and cough syrup, which was an unusual but not unpleasant blend. After taking a sip, he tried slowly filling his lungs with air.
Tyler was both annoyed and relieved when he realized it actually worked. His body didn’t shake any longer, and the yelling in his head was gone. Although perhaps Enid’s colorful company had already chased the Hyde away previously. Her incessant talking hadn’t left any room to scream. Or it was afraid she would offer to paint its nails if it appeared.
Or it remembered how Enid’s sharp fangs had pierced its skin when Tyler tried to execute Laurel’s final order.
“Thank you,” he said, letting bitter edge and sarcastic tone rest for once.
“So, what happened to rattle you like this?” she asked, sitting criss-cross apple sauce opposite him on the bed. “I mean, we share a wall, so I know you don’t scream like this every night.”
“Talking to my dad, I guess,” he mumbled, taking another sip of the pink brew. Reluctantly, he had to admit the taste was growing on him, and he liked how the warm liquid seemed to flow into every nerve and soothe it.
“Your dad is dead.”
“Apparently, that’s not a problem for Wednesday Addams.”
After that, the words started to flow. He told Enid about the black tears, the panicked escape from the house, the discovery of his old car, and even about Capri finding him in Wednesday’s room. He didn’t tell her about the almost-kiss, which he wasn’t even sure if it had been real, or the subsequent embarrassing conversation about birds and bees.
Once the story was finished, Enid shook her head in disbelief. “Have you two ever considered being kind to yourselves?”
“What do you mean?” Tyler furrowed his brow.
“Neither of you seems to think before you do when it comes to the other one. You ran straight into an encounter with your dead dad without any preparation, just because Wednesday told you to. Meanwhile, she depletes herself to provide said ghost encounter for your sake.”
He shook his head decisively. “She didn’t do it for me. She did it to solve the mystery.”
“Wednesday does like a good mystery,” Enid agreed.. “She likes being the smartest person in the room, and she usually is. But I don’t think the mystery here is what you think it is, Tyler. This isn’t about Hyde attacks in the woods. Not really.”
“So what is it about then?”
“This is about you. You’re the mystery to her. You’re what she’s trying to solve. She’s trying to figure out what is the real you, what is the monster, and what is your masters’ doing.”
Hopefully, she could tell him the answer if she ever figured it out, because Tyler wasn’t sure himself.
“She doesn’t care about me like that.” He shook his head, not even wanting to entertain the notion. Although their moment the night before had kind of contradicted that belief. “Not anymore.”
Enid groaned, which turned into a growl halfway through. “Do you really believe that, Tyler?”
He shrugged. The truth was, he wasn’t sure. Wednesday was giving him mixed messages, as always. It was part of her infuriating charm.
“You think the girl who saved your ass at Iago Tower doesn’t care for you? The girl who less than a week after you enrolled here is ready to save your ass again? The girl who is running through the woods with you every day, looking for clues? The girl who cancelled getting bubble tea with me last night—which she had promised to do!—to go off on a hare-brained scheme with you?”
“I guess so?”
“Well, then you’re dafter than you look. Of course, she cares for you! If I know one thing about Wednesday Addams, it’s that you shouldn’t listen to what she says; you should look at what she does. And look at all she’s done for you. Dummy!”
Enid may have a point.
“She cares for you, but she doesn’t trust you, Tyler,” Enid continued, not letting him have a word in. “She has let her guard down exactly once in her life—maybe twice because she did let me hug her that one time!—and that was to let you in. She ended up getting her heart trampled on. She’s not going to let that happen again.”
Tyler had been so caught up in his own lies and charades that he hadn’t realized just how gravely he’d let her down. He was already lost when he met her, although he didn’t yet know the depths he’d wandered, and she’d been the dark star he’d hoped could guide him home. But to be allowed to follow her, he’d had to obfuscate the reasons he’d found himself wandering to begin with. To him, it had been a necessary adaptation to survive; to her, it had been an unforgivable betrayal.
“So how do I make her trust me?”
Enid sighed. “I don’t know, Tyler. I’m not sure you can.”
It was too late. It had always been too late. From the first time he met her. Tyler knew that.
But still, every late hour eventually turned into morning. A new day would dawn, and then, a new night of sparkling stars.
Notes:
I think this may be the longest chapter yet! :O (I'm more of a short and snappy writer, though, than a long and intricate one)
Always love to include more Enid in this story as she's so fun to write! (and it feels like once they get over their differences, she and Tyler would have a lot they could bond over)
Chapter 26: Fort Wednesday
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
At 9 a.m. sharp, Tyler nervously knocked on the door to Wednesday’s room. Enid had convinced him to wait that long to check on her, saying that Wednesday deserved a sleep-in after the ordeal the night before. It was Saturday, so they didn't need to get up for class anyway.
He’d managed a few hours of relatively peaceful slumber after their conversation. The fragrant tea had worked wonders on his frayed nerves. Still, he’d also found time to pace the halls of their wing that morning, anxious that something had happened to Wednesday after he was forced to leave her behind. Maybe she’d passed out again, with no one there to catch her.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Wednesday’s dark eyes that glared at him. Instead, mesmerizing blue irises filled with spite bore into his own. “Do I need to put a sign on the door that says “No Hydes allowed”?” Bianca asked, before attempting to slam the door in his face.
“He’s with me,” Enid declared, decisively putting her foot in the door so Biance couldn’t close it. “And we’re coming in.”
As she flaunted her claws—currently painted in vivid blue with rhinestones scattered across—Bianca sighed, probably contemplating if she should siren song them all to make them leave. “Fine,” she conceded, making the wise decision to abstain since charming one’s classmates was strictly forbidden. “I’ll go over to Ajax to study.”
She didn’t grab any books on her way out the door.
“Study,” Enid said, making air quotes with her colorful claws. “More like snogging, am I right?”
Perhaps Ajax was the one who needed a stern talking-to about birds and bees, rather than Tyler. But Tyler didn’t care about who was making out with who at the moment; all he cared about was Wednesday’s well-being. Rushing over the threshold, he peered around the room for her. When he didn’t spot her on the bed, where he’d left her, he started to freak out.
“Wednesday!” he called out.
“Calm down, monster boy. I’m here,” came from the desk by the window.
“So I guess that nickname is a thing now,” Enid mumbled.
“You should calm down as well, wolf girl.” It seemed Wednesday’s sharp edge was back. Intently focused on the books in front of her, she didn’t deign either of them with a look.
Enid perked up upon realizing Tyler wasn’t the only one bestowed with a nickname. “I think you’re the one who needs to relax after fainting last night.” She sat down on Wednesday’s bed, patting for her friend to sit down beside her.
Wednesday ignored her wish. “You told her?” Her eyes turned pitch black as she glared at Tyler. “I told you not to tell anyone.”
“You also told me I don’t always have to obey,” he countered, cautiously walking up toward the desk.
Wednesday sighed, probably not expecting to have those words turned against her so soon. She gave him a long look, as if remembering the moment of weakness after those words had been spoken. That moment still lived rent-free in Tyler’s head, being repeated over and over as he tried to surmise what had been real.
“I brought you this.” Tyler placed a cup of newly brewed coffee beside her. “The Telltale isn’t open today, but I snuck inside to make your morning coffee.”
Wednesday accepted the offering without a word of gratitude or even a glance. At least she did take a sip.
“Not now,” she suddenly whispered, not looking at Tyler but rather having her gaze fastened at something, or someone, by the window. “Shut up.”
“Who are you talking to?” Tyler asked, seeing no one in that corner. He looked around for Thing, who may be lurking in the shadows. But her trusty right hand appeared to still be resting in the chest he called home.
“No one,” Wednesday assured him, with a bit too much emphasis for it to be true. She finally turned her gaze in Tyler’s direction. The vulnerability of last night was gone from her eyes, replaced with newfound hostility and determination. After letting the walls around her heart crumble a tiny bit, she had reinforced them with steel to make sure there was no way in.
“Are you sure?” Tyler looked around, wondering if there were ghosts in the room. “Is the seance last night still playing games with your mind? You should probably rest for longer.”
“I have rested enough,” Wednesday wheezed, delving back into the books on her desk. “This mystery isn’t going to be solved by resting. We got some clues from Donovan last night that I’m researching.”
“Where did you get all those books from?” Tyler asked, pointing to the tower on her desk.
“The school library. They’re Nevermore Yearbooks.” Wednesday appeared annoyed at all the questions thrown at her.
“I could have got them for you. You could barely walk last night. You shouldn’t be carrying stuff around.”
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you are quite good at carrying stuff. Everyone needs one talent, I guess.”
Tyler shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. It seemed they were back to hurling insults rather than truths at each other.
“So what are you looking for?” Enid peered over Wednesday’s shoulder, snickering at ’90s hairstyles and clothing.
“I’m trying to corroborate the existence of a Fred Faulkner.”
“You think my father made him up?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know what I think. That’s why I need to cross-check the facts. If you two could just scram, doing that would be a lot easier.” Wednesday put her arm out to prevent Enid from picking up one of the books to marvel at the fashion choices.
Tyler sighed.. This conversation was like ramming his head into a wall. Fort Wednesday had closed its doors for the foreseeable future, leaving him outside. He couldn’t get her to trust him if she wouldn’t even look at him. “I guess we should head to Jericho and get your car anyway, Enid,” he suggested, slightly passively aggressively. “So you don’t get parking fines. I can drive you there.”
“Oh, can we get bubble tea on the way?” Enid asked, bouncing toward the door. It seemed she was fed up with Wednesday stonewalling them as well.
“Sure,” Tyler agreed, walking right behind her. “We’ll get all the bubble tea you want.”
He did prefer coffee to colorful and sweet beverages, though. Black coffee. Pitch black.
“We’ll get some for you too,” Enid promised Wednesday.
“Please don’t,” Wednesday mumbled, her head bent over the books once again.
Notes:
Yeah, Wednesday appears to have closed her doors for now :( (the moment of weakness the night before made her feel vulnerable to getting hurt again, which does scare her, even if she would never admit it)
And who is Wednesday talking to? As this story is only told in Tyler's POV, that part is a bit tricky to tell, so I hope it's somewhat clear what is going on (this isn't a new twist but rather something we see in the show, but since we see it from her POV, there we can actually see and hear the person she talks to, which obviously isn't possible here). Anyway, there will be more information about this later.
At least Enid is finally getting her bubble tea!
Chapter 27: Bubble Jubble
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’ll meet you at the bubble tea place!” Enid jumped out of Tyler’s car, which had rolled like a champ the whole way from Nevermore to Jericho. The night before, he hadn’t been able to enjoy driving it among the stress and anxiety, but today, he’d revelled in the smooth ride.
Just as Enid was about to shut the door, a whiff hit Tyler’s sensitive Hyde nostrils. “Hold on,” he said. “Let me park, and I will check something.”
Enid gave him an exasperated look. “But bubble tea,” she protested.
“We’ll get to that,” Tyler promised while Enid finally closed the car door behind her.
After finding an empty parking spot, Tyler walked up to Enid’s pink car, anxiously looking around to make sure no one saw him. Being outside in Jericho, in daylight to boot, was risky when you were the local crazed murderer. A mob wielding pitchforks could corner him at any moment. Still, he needed to investigate this trail. Luckily, the parking lot where he’d chosen to hide Enid’s glaring vehicle the night before was placed behind an abandoned mall and rarely frequented.
The scent was faint but obvious. A heightened sense of smell was one of the benefits of being a Hyde; Tyler could easily distinguish between the smells of different outcasts, and their traces lingered in their air for days. At the campground, rain had fallen overnight and chased away such molecules, but here, it stood out like fireworks against the night sky. The scent of a Hyde was red and black, like fire and rage. Someone of Tyler’s kind had been close by recently.
If he could smell the Hyde, it meant they could smell him too. Luckily, Tyler came prepared. When he’d been by the Telltale that morning to brew Wednesday’s coffee, he’d also filled with pockets with coffee beans, a well-known trick to keep dogs and monsters ignorant of your whereabouts.
Beyond the parking lot lay a forested hill, overgrown with grass and brush. Red and black scent trails led up what had once been a path. Tyler pushed branches aside as he left the parking lot behind to explore the origin of the lingering markers.
“Where are you going?” Enid asked while opening the door to her car.
“Just going to investigate a bit,” Tyler replied. “I’ll be right back.”
He could hear her sighing behind him as he trekked deeper into the brush. This was not hospitable terrain. The ground was covered in poison ivy and stinging nettles, while the bushes were armored with thorns. He pulled down his hoodie sleeves around his hands to avoid unnecessary injuries. The bruises sustained this morning from Wednesday’s hostile demeanor were enough.
At the top, the scent intensified. Arriving at a dilapidated hunting blind, Tyler found newly flattened grass. Someone had stood there recently. Someone who smelled like a Hyde. Turning around, he peered down at the view. The backyard of his house was clearly visible from there, which meant the Hyde had been able to see it as well. The monster had been watching them, waiting for them to exit the house and return to the car. Wednesday’s fainting spell may have spared them from an attack.
It was becoming increasingly clear that this mystery was related to Tyler. Whoever this Hyde was wanted to get to him specifically.
If he’d been attacked last night, Tyler would have released his inner monster. The Hyde must know this. It must want this even. Perhaps that was the intention all along: to frame Tyler and incarcerate him once again in retaliation for something his parents had done many years ago.
“Are you coming?” Enid yelled from the parking lot. “I hope you haven’t got lost up there.”
“I’m good,” Tyler replied. “I’ll be right back with you.”
The scent revealed that the Hyde had exited toward the deep woods, which continued all the way to Nevermore. If Tyler had been alone, he would have followed it. He would have found the monster. But he couldn’t bring Enid on such a trek. While she certainly could hold her own, Wednesday would never forgive Tyler if something happened to her friend.
Before heading back down, Tyler took a lap around the duck blind. On the backside, a muddy patch threatened to ruin his shoes. Jumping across, he noticed footprints on the surface. He bent down to take a closer look. Since not many people ventured to these parts, it seemed likely that whoever left them was the same person whose scent lingered in the air. Although… there wasn’t just one type of footprint, but rather two: one grooved from a sneaker or running shoe and a heavier one from a sturdy boot.
A Hyde and their master. It made sense.
“Tyler! Do I need to come up there and drag you back?” Enid seemed to have lost her patience.
“I’m on my way!” he called out, actually keeping his promise this time as he started to head down the path. At the moment, bubble tea was higher up on his priority list than the monster.
About twenty minutes later, he was parked outside Bubble Jubble Tea, admiring pictures of fanciful drinks in pastel colors on the shop window. This certainly seemed like a place fit for Enid.
Balancing two giant cups topped with cream and filled with what looked like jellybeans, his friend entered the car. “I still don’t see why you couldn’t come in with me,” she muttered.
“We’re still in Jericho,” Tyler replied with a sigh. “I’m kind of persona non grata around here, if you don’t remember.”
“Oh, right…” she mumbled.
“You know, because of the whole murderous monster thing.”
“Got it,” she mumbled, giving him a long look. He wondered if she searched for the rumoured monster everyone in town saw. It was in there, even if he didn’t let it out to play very often. “This one is matcha.” End handed him a cup filled to the brim with green liquid. It seemed she had seen nothing but a friend looking back at her.
“Thank you,” he said, looking suspiciously at wisps of dark green floating at the bottom.
“That’s grass jelly!” she explained excitedly, taking a sip of her own purple drink.
“Sounds delicious…” Tyler mumbled, suspiciously tasting the green sludge. To his surprise, his snarky description had actually been accurate.
For a moment, the car was blissfully silent as they both enjoyed their drinks, but soon Enid started to blather again. “So… did something else happen between you and Wednesday last night?” she asked. “She seemed very cold this morning.”
“I think that’s just her personality.”
“I mean colder than usual,” Enid explained. “She barely even looked at you.”
Tyler sighed. Apparently, nothing escaped her keen wolf senses. “I guess maybe something did, or almost did, at least,” he confessed. “I think maybe we were close to kissing.”
“Oh!” Enid squealed, followed by, “Oh…” as she realized the truckload of baggage that came with this development.
“Yeah,” he agreed, taking a long sip of his matcha tea. “Oh… indeed.”
“You two should probably talk things out before anything more happens,” Enid insisted. “Like, get everything out in the open.”
That sounded kind of torturous, like he would rather be bitten by a school of piranhas. Which he supposed Wednesday knew how to arrange if he remembered the files on her correctly.
“This is Wednesday Addams we’re talking about, Enid; she’s not exactly one for heartfelt conversations.”
“You need to initiate it then, take the hit, so to speak.”
Tyler groaned. “I mean… she may actually hit me, or stab me, or something.”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Tyler lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Enid didn’t respond, probably because she couldn’t actually guarantee his safety. Talking things out with Wednesday Addams sounded like walking into a lion’s den unarmed, with a blindfold, and also your hands tied behind your back. “I saw the perfect tea flavor for her in there,” she offered. “I’ll go get a cup. Delivering it will be a perfect excuse for you to go up there when we get back, and then… you can try to talk to her.”
Tyler wasn’t convinced a cup of bubble tea was the best weapon when sent into the lair of a ferocious predator. Although there may not be a way for him to protect his heart from this specific carnivore. She already had it captured.
Notes:
Talking things out with Wednesday Addams... what could go wrong? Good luck, Tyler. It was nice knowing you!
Chapter 28: I Know You Have A Heart
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once again, Tyler knocked cautiously on the door to Wednesday’s room.
“Come in, if you have to.” Wednesday’s tone wasn’t welcoming, but also not outright hostile, so Tyler dared to venture across the threshold to her domain. At least Bianca still seemed to be absent, so he wouldn’t be chased out of there.
“Hey…” he started. “Enid left to hang out with her pack.” In actuality, sending Tyler in there alone, bearing a gift, was part of Enid’s genius plan to make her friends have a heart-to-heart. Tyler feared the conversation would be more of a knife-to-heart.
“I didn’t ask.” Wednesday didn’t look up from the pile of books, which seemed to have grown in height since this morning. “What do you want?”
“I… well, we, really, brought you this.” He held up a cup of bubble tea that wasn’t vibrant pink or green as was common for such drinks, nor was it filled with fruity toppings; instead, the color shifted from deep black to muted gray at the top. “It’s black sesame flavored with black tapioca pearls. It shouldn’t cause any color-induced allergic reactions.”
Giving the suspicious beverage an ocular inspection, Wednesday approved it. “Put it there,” she commanded, pointing toward the corner of the desk, where her coffee cup from this morning still stood untouched. It appeared her focus had solely been on research.
“So have you found anything?” he asked, figuring he should ease his way into this conversation. “About the guy my dad told us about, I mean.”
“Less than I had hoped for,” she replied with a sigh. “I found this picture, though.”
Tyler leaned close, her intriguing scent titillating his nostrils, to peer at a black and white image in one of the yearbooks. A handsome man with steel-rimmed glasses and jaw-length dark blonde hair stared back at him. Fred Faulkner. Certainly looked like the epitome of an annoying art nerd. And next to him, with frizzy hair, a bold patterned dress, and a giant smile on her lips, stood Francoise Night. His mother looked so different from the fragment of a woman Tyler had met last year, having had her mind fried by Willow Hill’s experiments and years of solitude. He wished he’d known this woman. The woman his father once fell in love with.
“So my dad was right, a Fred Faulkner did work here in the 90’s,” he mumbled, trying to figure out the relationship between the spectacled man and his mother from the picture. Had he been the one to master the monster dwelling inside of her? Or had he been a victim of her rampage?
“There was, but I can’t find any mentions of him anywhere beyond this.” She clanked on the laptop in front of her. “I’ve searched every database possible, but there is nothing. The guy just vanished.”
“Where did you get that from?” Tyler asked, pointing to the computer. “I thought you didn’t do modern technology.”
“I don’t. So I borrowed Enid’s.” She lowered the lid to reveal a slew of colorful stickers picturing bouncing unicorns, sparkling rainbows, and blossoming flowers.
“Does she know you lent it from her?”
“She will eventually.”
“So you broke into her room and got it?”
“Perhaps,” she confirmed. “They really should make the doors to the dorms harder to pick.”
“And how did you get her password?”
“Good old-fashioned spying. I’ve known it for years since she never changes it.”
He nodded. Yep, this was the Wednesday he knew. He definitely should get in the habit of changing the password to his laptop weekly unless he wanted everything he owned to be hers as well.
Actually, that didn’t sound totally unappealing.
“Was Fred killed along with his father, perhaps?” he asked, getting back to the mystery, which seemed to be the only thing that mattered to her at the moment.
“It doesn’t appear so. I found an obituary for Robert, but nothing for Fred. I’ve looked for different first names as well: Frederick, Wilfred, Alfred, and so on, but still, nothing.”
“And no news articles are talking about Robert’s death?”
She shook her head. “I suspect that may be your father’s doing, along with covering up what was in the police files.”
“Too bad we never got to ask my old man about that.”
“We need to talk to him again.”
Tyler shook his head decisively. “Not after what happened last time. There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t. As soon as my powers are replenished, I can call upon Donovan again.” Once again, her gaze searched for someone in the corner. “I don’t care what you say,” she whispered, visibly agitated. “I can do it.”
“Is someone there?” Tyler asked.
“No one that matters,” Wednesday replied, glaring at nothing. “Just an annoying ghost from the past.”
“Okay…” Tyler wondered if he should alert Capri of this development. He was new to all this outcast stuff, though, so maybe talking to invisible entities in corners was normal. “You need to tell me if something is about to go wrong next time you hold a seance. And I will be more focused on asking relevant questions.”
“You better be,” she muttered, taking a sip of her bubble tea as she turned back to the work in front of her. She didn’t grimace at the taste, which Tyler took as a stamp of approval.
He should tell her about the discoveries he’d made, about the Hyde and its master lurking on the hill, ready to ambush them. But such revelations would inevitably lead to another excursion to hunt for clues. It wouldn’t leave them any time to talk about other matters.
Contemplating how to start such a fraught conversation, Tyler sat down on the bed behind Wednesday. It was like coming up with the best way to poke a bear. Every idea seemed too risky and frankly silly. A few minutes went by without either of them saying anything. Worried that Wednesday had forgotten he was still in the room, Tyler clung to the first words he could find. There probably was no good way to poke a bear anyway; you just had to do it and run.
“You know… I never meant to hurt you,” he started, his heart racing as the words escaped his lips. “Before, I mean. When we kissed and all that.”
Wednesday didn’t turn to face him right away. Instead, she took the words in, deciding her reaction before she spun around. “You didn’t hurt me, Tyler,” she said with emphasis.
“I didn’t?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“For someone to hurt, they need to have a heart, and I don’t. I don’t ache and bleed. I don’t yearn for things. I don’t fall in love. Those things are for the weak.” She looked toward the corner of the room again as if she said these words not just to him but also to someone else. “And I’m not.”
“Wednesday…” he tried. “You’re not weak. You’re formidable, fierce, and strong. But I know you have a heart.”
“I don’t,” she concluded the discussion. “Now, can you please leave me be instead of disrupting me with your silly notions?” She handwaved toward the door. “And take your jacket with you as well.” His Nevermore blazer, which he’d draped around her shoulders the night before, hung across the back of a chair beside the bed.
She didn’t have to ask him twice. If Wednesday didn’t want him there, then Tyler wouldn’t stay a second longer. He rose, grabbed his jacket on his way toward the door, and slammed it on his way out.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
The Hyde in his head was going haywire, wanting to break loose. Tyler struggled to control it. He needed to get away. He needed to hide. He needed to find the damn Hyde lurking in the woods, since it was apparently all Wednesday cared about.
Notes:
Well, at least Tyler survived, so that went better than expected!
But now, he's running amok again, probably about to get in some trouble... (Wednesday may need to keep her monster boy on a leash in the future)
Chapter 29
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Since finding that damn other Hyde was all Wednesday cared about, Tyler would find the damn Hyde. Wandering deep into the woods, eventually, he picked up the scent trail that came from the hill behind the parking lot. Bright red and deep black, it stood out against the mellow and muted scents of squirrels and other critters.
The low autumn sun made moss and leaves glow golden around Tyler as he followed the conspicuous scent through familiar lands. He and Lucas had played hide and seek in these woods as children, and as they grew older, they graduated to meeting up in hidden corners to partake in activities forbidden by their fathers. Tyler had tried his first cigarette and taken his first sip of beer beneath these canopies. While he hadn’t enjoyed either, he supposed they were inevitable rituals of youth.
Despite how familiar the woods were to him, Tyler wasn’t prepared for where the scent would take him. Not until the cave that still haunted his nightmares, where his tormentor had first awoken his inner beast, was right in front of him. Of course, this was where the damn Hyde had chosen to run away to. Had it been drawn to the smell of dread and fear, or were all monstrous creatures naturally drawn to the dark underground?
Tyler hesitated outside the opening, which appeared as if a giant drill had been thrust into the earth’s crust. Its darkness contrasted against the brightness of the sunlit meadow where he stood. Two years ago, he’d walked in there as a normie and walked out as a monster. Who knew what the inner dwellings had in store for him on this afternoon?
Muted voices called on him from the inside. It must be the Hyde and its master. They were still there. Tyler needed to know who they were, so despite his qualms, he trudged forward, pressing against the cave wall not to be seen.
As the light from outside grew dimmer, Tyler heard the voices more clearly. Curiously, there appeared to be three people talking, and their voices grew more and more familiar for every step he took.
This was not who he’d expected to find. This was not the gathering he’d planned to barge into.
Befuddled, Tyler’s foot slipped on the uneven ground. Unable to stop his trajectory, he tumbled down toward the room at the end of the cave, where he’d once been held captive.
“Galpin!?” the voice of an old friend echoed between the cave walls, and soon Lucas Walker, accompanied by Jonah and Carter, stood above Tyler as he lay on the ground.
Tyler’s former friends held beer cans, and the air held a fragrance of hot dogs and s'mores. This wasn’t a meeting between a Hyde and its master but rather a fraternization between rebellious teens. Whoever Tyler looked for must have left the cave behind already, leaving it available to local hoodlums.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb,” Tyler mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, which had taken the brunt of the impact from the fall. Assembling his limbs, he sat up on the cold ground. “I’ll leave.”
“Oh, you are going nowhere!” Lucas exclaimed. He must have just come from a shift at the Weatherwane since he was dressed in the tan polo shirt that was part of the uniform. “Guys, grab the ropes over there and tie him up. I have some things I want to talk to Tyler about.”
“Eh…” Jonah hesitated. “Can’t he like turn into a monster at any moment? I’m not sure I want to deal with that.”
“He can,” Lucas confirmed. “But I’m quite sure he won’t.” He bent down, grabbing Tyler’s hand to showcase the blinking cuff. “Sheriff Santiago is friends with my mom, and I overheard them talking about the conditions of his enrollment. Nevermore keeps him on a tight leash. He’ll be expelled and sent to another asylum—even worse than Willow Hill—if he hydes out on us. And we don’t want that, do we, Tyler?”
Tyler didn’t reply. He was busy keeping the monster in check. Since Lucas held his wrist, he couldn’t reach the circular marking, so all he could do was breathe and try to keep his anger at bay. If he let the Hyde out now, he would hurt his former friends, and no matter how hostile they had been to him, Tyler didn’t want to do that.
“Here.” Carter threw a rope to Lucas. “You tie him up then.”
Lucas sighed. “I guess I have to do everything here.” He wrapped the rope around Tyler’s wrists and pulled tight. “Come on,” he commanded, violently pulling Tyler from the floor toward two metal rings that hung from the cave wall. Tyler recognized them all too well. He’d been shackled to them before. While Carter and Jonah held Tyler, Lucas bound his hands to the loops, pinning him to the wall with his arms stretched out wide.
Just like in the cell at Willow Hill.
Tyler closed his eyes while the boys manhandled him. He didn’t resist because he knew that any sign of needing protection would awaken the Hyde. The monster would shred his attackers into mush before they had a chance to even attempt to flee the cave. It wouldn’t care about shared pasts or problematic backstories.
“Galpin, look at me!” Lucas yelled so close that Tyler’s ears started to ring.
Tyler refused. He kept his eyes shut.
“Look at me!” Lucas ordered again, even louder this time. Tyler threw his head backward to escape the sound, hitting the back of his head on the jagged wall.
When Tyler once again refused to obey, a slap hit his ribcage. The pain caused him to fall forward, making him hang on the tethers to the cave. He forgot to keep his eyes closed.
Kill them! Kill them all! KILL THEM!
The Hyde was aware of the ongoing attack and ready to defend Tyler. Bubbling rage simmered in every limb, hot and lethal. Tyler clenched his fists and tensed his whole body as he fought to keep the monster at bay. Soon, everything would break. The beast would escape its cage.
“That’s better.” With a menacing grin on his face, Lucas grabbed Tyler’s jaw and locked eyes. “I want you to see me when I deliver this message.” He raised his fist high in the air. “This is for my father!”
The punch landed on Tyler’s cheek, scrambling his brain and fogging his vision. He understood Lucas’ anger. He deserved it even. And he couldn’t escape it.
“I didn’t kill him,” he mumbled. “I didn’t kill Mayor Walker. I didn’t—”
“I don’t believe you, Tyler,” Lucas interrupted him. “I’ll never believe anything you say. Can you get that into your thick Hyde head?”
“I killed a lot of people, but not him. That was Thornhill’s doing.”
“And if she had told you to kill my father, would you have done so?”
Tyler didn’t reply because he couldn’t deny the accusation. The nature of a Hyde was to obey their master’s order. Only one time had he been able to disobey, and that had almost killed him.
Another punch, this one directed at Tyler’s left eyebrow, caused his head to scream in pain. Nausea set in. Everything ached and pulsated in red and black. His mind filled with one singular voice.
KILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL—
His body was about to be torn apart, which would leave the Hyde in charge, when a new voice echoed through the cave. The voice of someone who supposedly didn’t have a heart.
“It’s time for you two to leave,” Wednesday ordered.
Tyler opened his eyes—although the left one was half-swollen shut from Lucas’ hit—to the sight of Wednesday pointing sharp blades at the throats of Jonah and Carter. Terrified, the two bullies heeded her command and bolted out of the cave.
“Let’s get out of there,” Carter muttered.
“I knew we shouldn’t have messed with him,” Jonah added.
Before Lucas had time to act or even speak, Wednesday juggled the two knives in a swift motion and grabbed both in one hand. She aimed the scissor-like opening at Lucas’ throat. “You too, Walker,” she commanded, wiggling the blades slightly in a threat to close them. “Scram.”
“Your girlfriend is even crazier than you are, Galpin.” Lucas backed away from Wednesday with his hands raised.
“Not my girlfriend,” Tyler mumbled at the same time as Wednesday sneered, “Not his girlfriend.”
“I don’t care,” Lucas replied, shaking his head at their insistence before he turned around and ran outside.
Wednesday wasn’t Tyler’s girlfriend, but she sure was something to him. Even the Hyde seemed to accept this, as it calmed down and retreated into Tyler’s mind.
Notes:
So no Hyde hiding in the cave, just former friends with a grudge. Although that may actually be worse since at least against a Hyde, Tyler could let his monster side take over to defend himself, while here, he has to do everything in his power not to let that happen :(
Luckily, can't let her monster boy go too far without supervision, so she could swoop in and save his ass.
But is the danger really over...
Chapter 30: I Do Have A Heart
Summary:
It's Monster Time!!! It's about time the Hyde gets its time to shine. (although that means I now have to write Hyde POV...)
And yeah... that happened! A kiss! Or almost at least...
As many of you guessed, it was Weems that Wednesday was talking to before. I'm choosing to use her as the spirit guide for this story as I can't be bothered to come up with original characters (and since this story is in Tyler's POV, we won't actually see or hear her anyway).
Chapter Text
Despite being tied up and in pain from being beaten, while also standing in the cave that haunted his nightmares, Tyler felt at ease. A cold evening breeze from outside soothed his aches as his savior smirked at him. She probably enjoyed seeing him in this state.
“I thought you didn’t have a heart…” he mumbled, fighting to meet her gaze as blood ran into his eye. Lucas’ second punch must have burst his eyebrow.
Wednesday glared at him, bending down to place a knife in the shaft of her lace-up boot. The other knife remained in her hand.
“But yet here you are,” Tyler continued. “Stalking me through the woods and saving my ass. Not so heartless after all.”
The dark glare intensified. “I figured you would get in trouble out here on your own,” Wednesday muttered, pulling his hand down rather roughly to cut the ties. “I was right.”
“Someone who didn’t care may have let me get in trouble,” he replied, very aware that he was baiting her. But he was done playing her little games. The pain and adrenaline mixed into a lethal concoction of recklessness and abandon.
“These ropes aren’t even strong,” she noted, pulling on the frayed edges. “You could have freed yourself.”
“I could have,” he confirmed. “If I let the Hyde out. But I didn’t want to hurt Lucas and the other guys.”
“Luckily, I don’t have any qualms about hurting people.” Her knife scraped his skin slightly as she started to cut the hold around his right wrist. Tyler hissed from the pain. Wednesday smiled and pulled back the knife, leaving him captive.
“Are you not going to free me?” he growled, rolling his eyes.
“Not if you’re going to be such a baby about it.” She teasingly twirled the knife in her hand. There was no longer any doubt; she was enjoying this.
“Wednesday,” Tyler grumbled, pulling on the ropes to see if he could tear the half-cut one. He had no success. “Please.”
She ignored his plea. “Why do you always end up bound or chained?” Wednesday moved closer while spinning the knife between her fingers. She placed herself right in front of him. The distance between her face—her lips— and his was no more than an inch or two.
“I guess I just bring out those urges in people,” he murmured, very aware of the closeness of her velvety lips. “Call it a personality flaw.”
“You are quite an infuriating monster boy,” she agreed, letting the knife blade slide over his neck. Light on the hand and in full control, the motion didn’t pierce his skin. “Needs to be kept on a leash, or apparently you run away.”
“Only if no one pays attention to me.”
She turned the blade away, holding the knife upside down in her palm while she instead let her fingers caress his face, flicking curls away to reveal the bruise from when Lucas hit him. With a mix of care and intrigue playing in her eyes, she traced the mark with her fingers. “You got yourself beat up,” she noted.
He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the harrowing situation. “I probably deserved it.”
“I would assume so.” A jolt went through his body when her gentle finger nudged the gash in his eyebrow. He flinched. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when you poke it like that,” he scoffed, holding back a grimace. “But I’ll survive.”
Wednesday nodded softly, removing her fingers from his skin. Tyler missed the touch immediately, even if it had hurt. “You were right before,” she dropped, as if the reveal was nothing. “You did hurt me, Tyler. But I survived.”
“I’m sor—”
“Shhhh.” Wednesday put her knife against his lips. “My spirit guide says I need to admit my feelings for you for my powers to flow freely and replenish enough for another seance.” She glanced toward the entrance to the cave. “You can go now, Weems, let me talk to him alone.”
Tyler nodded, willingly obeying her order not to speak. While he didn’t know what a spirit guide was, since he had limited knowledge of outcasts and their powers, it seemed like something that could reasonably exist, and if this invisible spiritual being had told Wednesday to pour her heart out to him, who was he to protest?
“I do have a heart,” she admitted, looking down for a moment. “Which is stupid and annoying and infuriating. I didn’t think I had a one, or at least that it was black and filled with tar, but then you came around and… something flickered. I gave in. I shouldn’t have.”
“I disagree.” He let a hint of a smile play on his lips.
Wednesday shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe she was humoring him. “How do I know you have a heart, Tyler?” She moved her knife toward his chest, pointing it at where his heart was supposed to reside. “How do I know what beats in there isn’t purely black and deceitful? The heart of a Hyde is a mysterious thing. You fooled me once already.”
“I won’t fool you again,” he promised, straining against the ropes. Her words were treacherous, but never her eyes, and they begged him to be true. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t let herself.
“Who says I’ll let you that close?” she asked, taking a step backward.
“Well, you came here,” he noted. “You followed me. You saved me from myself.”
Wednesday sighed, as if she’d been caught red-handed. “I did,” she noted.
“So what do you need from me?” He wiggled his still-restrained hands. “To free me, I mean.”
“Just tell me one thing, Tyler.” She fiddled with the knife in her hand. “When I walked into the Weatherwane for the first time, did you know who I was?”
“No,” he answered, quickly and without deceit. “I didn’t know who you were. Hell, I didn’t know who I was myself at that time. All I knew was that you were different from everything I’ve ever known. You were… free, while I was shackled.” He snickered at the apt metaphor, as she stood before him while he was tied to a cave wall.
“Thornhill hadn’t told you about me?”
Tyler flinched at the name of his tormentor. “She only told me what I needed to know. And I did the same to her.”
“Aren’t your kind compelled to obey?”
He shrugged, or at least tried to. “I can’t obey an order that hasn’t been spoken.”
“So when did she find out that you knew me?”
“At the Rave’n. I may have forgotten that she would be there.” He laughed bitterly at his naivety. “I got so wrapped up in everything. Finding a suit, getting a corsage, all that stuff.”
“You didn’t do it for her?”
He shook his head. “No, I did it for you, Wednesday. Because I wanted to be there. Please, believe me.”
She caught his gaze. He let her stare into his irises, hoping that she could see that he was truthful.
“Why should I believe you, Tyler?” she asked, once again creeping close. Sticking the knife into her booth, she put her hand on his jaw, angling it slightly downward while also lifting onto her tippy toes. A surge of energy travelled through Tyler’s body, similar to when the Hyde wanted to be let loose, but this energy wasn’t pulsating with hatred but rather jittering from anticipation.
“Because I do have a heart,” he murmured. There was no doubt about this, as his heart pounded so rapidly he feared it might escape his body. He wondered if she could hear it too, heaving right next to hers.
“This is a mistake,” she whispered, a shadow of a smile on her dark lips, so close they almost touched his.
“Probably,” he replied, tilting his head slightly.
She tilted her head the other way. “Definitely.”
His body was about to break once again. He struggled against the ropes to force himself closer. He wanted to be enveloped by her darkness. She moved slowly, probably reveling in torturing him for a little bit longer. The night closed in on them, wrapping them into one. Her lips brushed against his, oh so softly. And then…
“The monster! It’s out there!” Lucas’ panicked voice cut through the darkness, splitting it apart. Wednesday took a step backward, making Tyler’s body ache in frustration.
“It’s coming!” Jonah yelled, tumbling into the cave right behind Lucas with Carter on his heels. “It’s right behind us!”
A rumbling roar made Tyler come to his senses. The sound reverberated through his bones, calling for the monster inside. This was a creature of his kind, encroaching on his territory and threatening his people he cared about. He needed to vanquish it.
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill them all!
“Get further into the cave!” Tyler ordered his former friends. “You too.” He nodded toward Wednesday. For once in her life, she obeyed. She knew what he was about to do.
The light from the entrance disappeared, shaded by a huge form. The cave walls shook as its massive fists pounded the rock.
KILL! KILL! KILL!
Checking one last time that everyone was safely hidden in the deep cave, Tyler let the monster take over. He didn’t hold back anymore. He allowed red-hot anger to flow through his limbs, expanding them beyond recognition. His eyes bulged, and his skin turned grayish. The ropes that restrained his human form broke like straws of grass when he turned into his monstrous self.
Lucas stared at the shattered restraints with wide eyes, probably in that moment realizing in what kind of danger he’d been earlier. If Tyler had wanted to crush him, he could have easily done so.
“Protect them,” Tyler whispered to himself as a final order while his body transformed, attempting to master the monster inside. Hopefully, the beast would listen. It was the technique he’d been taught, but this was the first time he put it to the test.
A single tune rang in his head as he became the monster.
KILL! KIIIILLLLLLLL! KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
Chapter 31: Protect Them
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
KILL! KIIIILLLLLLLL! KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
The Hyde rose, stretching its arms wide and letting out a roar. It’s been so long, but finally, he was free. A gasp from behind made him turn, coming face to face with threatening forces.
Those boys had hurt him. The girl with the pigtails had hurt him even more.
They all needed to die. They should be crushed, vanquished, and annihilated. Then they could never hurt him again.
He lifted his claws in the air, but before he struck, a clear tune reverberated through his mind. An order to obey.
Protect them.
The Hyde gave the group a confused look. Why would he let them live? Why would he let anyone live?
Protect them. Protect them. Protect them.
The order rang again. Orders had to be obeyed.
A roar from outside the cave redirected his focus. A Hyde knew instinctively when another of its kind was close. A threat, infringing on his territory. This cave was where he was born, and the surroundings were his domain. The intruder needed to be vanquished.
He threw a last look at the girl—she who he should protect. A peculiar sting made his heart ache. There was something with that girl. A feeling similar to hatred, but yet not. An urge to kill, but yet not. A fear about getting hurt, but not from claws and teeth. It wasn’t a feeling possible to untangle for a Hyde, a being built from pure primal rage and nothing else.
Ignoring what was incomprehensible, the Hyde turned his attention to the threat from outside. Fighting, he could understand. With a mighty roar, intended to intimidate the intruder, he sprinted toward the entrance, using his hands for leverage against the ground.
The intruder was larger. Its grey mane and many scars indicated many years of experience in battle. Years that most Hydes didn’t get, as their existence was lonesome, violent, and cursed.
None of that mattered. What mattered was that this was his territory, and any intruder needed to die.
The Hyde struck first, diving headfirst at the approaching monster without hesitation. His claws dug into thick skin. His teeth searched for any weak spot to attack.
The counter-attack came quickly. The opponent threw him into the cave wall, making rocks and dust fall. They were strong. Probably stronger. Still, the battle needed to go on.
As the intruder tried to advance further into the cave, the Hyde rose, shaking off debris. Aches and pains only made his will to fight stronger. Anger was his fuel, and he had endless reserves. While he didn’t know why, he was told to protect the people in the cave, and that meant he would do so until he could fight no more.
Aiming for the intruder’s feet, the Hyde attacked again, toppling its opponent off balance. Before they could rise, he pinned them down. They were too heavy to throw, but in a tussle, he could roll them away from the ones he was ordered to protect.
Jagged teeth dug into the Hyde’s shoulder as he used every ounce of power he had to flip his enemy. Once the opponent ended up on top, he used his powerful feet to kick them out of the cave. Before they could attempt to enter again, he rose to his feet, scrambling to block the entrance with his massive body.
Protect them. Protect them. Protect them.
A Hyde with an order to follow was a formidable force, unable to stray from the mission. While other muddled orders also inhabited his head, this last order was his primary directive. The voice was familiar and strong. His own voice. The only voice that could override the order of another, even in frenzied moments of anger.
He roared, attempting to look as big and intimidating as possible while guarding the entrance. The intruder was soon upon him again, swinging long limbs as if they were bats. The Hyde ducked the first one, but the second pulled him down. Terrified the intruder would once again enter the cave, he grabbed their feet as he fell. They both tumbled down a rocky hill together, limbs entangled, teeth gnashing, and claws flailing in the air.
The Hyde hit the ground hard, the thump reverberating through his entire body. The world went black, throwing him into nightmares past. He wasn’t sure whether he was monster or man, in the now or the present, chained or free.
…
You want to go back for her, don’t you?
…
He wanted to rise, but he couldn’t. He tried to force his limbs to move, but they wouldn’t. Everything was pain and fog. He wasn’t sure who or what he was. But he knew he needed to protect her, whoever she was.
…
She’s dead, Tyler.
…
He recognized the name called, but he couldn’t place it. But the words still instilled fear in him.
…
I’m the only one who matters to you now.
…
He knew the voice speaking. His master. He’d obeyed her before—she who awoke him.
But he didn’t want to follow her words. He didn’t have to anymore; he knew that.
His anger subsided and took the painful memories with it, being replaced by pain and worry as his body reset to its original form.
…
Fred!
…
The call was distant but still clear.
Within the blur of darkness, there were glimpses of sensations and sounds. Someone dragged him by the arm. His body ached as it bounced against boulders and roots.
…
We don’t need him. Not yet.
…
Feet shuffled through leaves and moss. Whoever they were, the Hyde and the Master, they were gone. He feared they had returned to the cave, but he couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t protect anyone in this state. His weak human form was useless, without power or strength.
…
Tyler! Where are you? Tyler!
…
Another voice cut through the quiet night—her voice.
Finally, he remembered. He remembered who he was and who she was. He was Tyler, and she was Wednesday. He was not a monster, at least not at the moment. He was simply a boy head over heels in love with a girl.
She appeared by his side. Cold fingers on bruised skin. His head in her lap. Her hand in his. “You’ll be alright,” she whispered, and he believed her. “Come help me carry him!” she called out to figures in the distance.
He was safe now. The monster was gone—both of them. Everything went black as Tyler relaxed into her arms. But the soothing darkness was treacherous as he soon bobbed on a dark lake in a hidden corner of his memories once again.
Notes:
Sorry, it took me a bit longer to get this chapter out! I had to figure out how to write in Hyde POV while still making it somewhat understandable what is going on (so like "RAWR! KILL KILL KILL!!!" wouldn't work) as I probably will need to do it for future scenes as well.
I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing when it comes to the fragments of memories/voices when Tyler turns back. Since we have never really seen this process on screen, I had to figure out how it would work both for his body and mind. The coming chapters will also explain a bit of what is going on, which should clarify things.
And yeah... Fred, that's a name we've heard before. We may need to go back and talk to Donovan again soon to get the rest of his story. (although Tyler may not be in a state for it in the coming chapters after that fight :( . So someone needs to nurse him back to health first)
Chapter 32: Hyde Fever
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tyler had been here before. He was on a boat, bobbing across a small lake. Next to him was his master. She who freed him. She who chained him.
They should be getting the hell away from Nevermore. Still, Tyler couldn't help but gaze back at the crypt. That’s where he’d last seen Wednesday, chained and helpless.
“She’s dead, Tyler,” Thornhill snapped. “She was stabbed. If she’s not gone already, she’s bleeding out at this very moment. Wednesday Addams is not a concern anymore.”
Still, his gaze lingered. He couldn’t help it. Even though he knew he would get punished for it.
“You want to go back for her, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer. He’d been taught not to. What he wanted to do didn’t matter.
“I ordered you to romance her, to make her fall for your pretty smile and innocent looks. But you are done now. You need to forget about Wednesday Addams,” Thornhill yelled close to his ear. “I’m the only one who matters to you now.” Her expression changed from anger into a warped smile, placing a kiss on his cheek.
He didn’t recoil. He’d been punished for it before. Instead, he nodded. But he couldn’t forget. He remembered Wednesday’s soothing hands tending to his wounds. He remembered her soft lips against his own. He remembered her hurt look when she found out his monstrous secret.
Thornhill must have noticed his gaze not wavering. Somehow, her request wasn’t being obeyed. “Fine, you go back for your damn girlfriend then. But if Wednesday Addams is still alive, I order you to kill her! That is your only objective for now on. And if anyone gets in the way, you kill them as well. Any of her little friends. Your damn father. You kill them, do you hear me, Tyler! And then you fucking kill Wednesday Addams! Kill her! KILL HER!”
The order echoed in his head, making it difficult to distinguish his will from his master’s.
…
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
…
Tyler woke up screaming.
Everything hurt. Every breath was like inhaling barbed wire. Every slight move felt like the cut of a knife. Every thought was drowned out by echoing orders and pounding pain. His body alternated between shivering and sweating, unable to regulate heat.
“Hey,” a soothing voice whispered, cold and refreshing like the wind. A firm but gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him back into a soft embrace. “You’re safe, Tyler.”
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
Despite the incessant chant filling his head, he dared to open his eyes. The sun stung his unaccustomed irises, but he could still make out that he was in his own room. Looking to the side, he saw her sitting by his bedside. Their eyes met. A look of concern and care.
KILL WEDNESDAY ADDAMS! KILL WEDNESDAY ADDAMS! KILL WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!
He grunted, closing his eyes again. The voice wouldn’t go away. He thought he’d mastered it, but the commands were worse than ever. Wednesday’s hand flicked through his hair. It felt nice, but still triggered the insistent rhythm, pounding in cadence with his aching head. It was the same voice from his dreams.
KILLWEDNESDAYADDAMSKILLWEDNESDAYADDAMSKILLWEDNESDAYADDAMS
He writhed under the sheets, his whole body shaking. He couldn’t escape. Everywhere was pain and voices.
“Please,” he mumbled, tears wetting his face. “Don’t touch me.” He wanted nothing rather than to hold her close, but every touch appeared to trigger voices in his mind that weren’t his own, and with the voices came the pain.
Tyler fell into slumber again, sucked into dreams of a painful past.
…
His eyes were still closed, but he was somewhere else. Other voices spoke around him. His mom. His uncle.
His hands were strapped in place. Sparks of electricity ravaged his body. His mother had ignored his pleas. She was determined to take the only thing he had from him: his powers. Without the Hyde, he was nothing. A normie with no prospects. A boy who was never good enough. His father had told him so many times.
The sound of footsteps running toward him made him open his eyes. A jolt of relief sparked in his heart as he saw her, axe in hand. Wednesday was alive, having escaped the early grave his uncle had put her in.
“Kill me,” he pleaded, while bolts of lightning shot into every limb. His insides were boiling, on the verge of disintegration. Death was his only escape. He had nothing left to fight for, and soon there would be no one left to fight for him. His mother would die, believing she saved her son while actually rendering him doomed.
Tyler closed his eyes again, bracing for impact. He was scared. Utterly damn petrified even. He didn’t want to die, but living didn’t seem like an option anymore.
At least he would get to die by her hand.
He heard the axe fall. He expected an explosion of pain as she severed his throat, followed by merciful relief.
Instead, a thump followed, right by his left hand. He twisted it, realizing it was free.
Slowly, he opened his eyes again, looking between his released wrist and Wednesday’s axe with confusion. “Why?” he asked, unable to make sense of what had happened. He’d let her down in every way possible. She should desire his head on a platter.
“I missed,” she simply said, before running to her brother’s aid.
She’d saved him. She’d spared him. She’d fought for him.
Tyler rose, the monster inside of him rising as well, ready to kill anyone who had let him down. Anyone who hadn’t fought for him.
…
Kill! Kill! Kill!
…
Tyler awoke, minutes or days later—who could tell?—to another voice.
“He turned last night?” Capri asked, somewhere above the bed. “The data from his cuffs indicate a spike in heart rate right before they ceased functioning. They must have shattered during transformation.”
“Perhaps the cuffs were not a sufficient Hyde detection mechanism if they broke that easily,” Wednesday retorted, always quick with a snarky reply. “Tyler did turn. But only to protect us. There was another Hyde out there.”
Capri sighed deeply, like she couldn’t believe everything that was put on her plate these days. “I’ll have to let Santiago know about this, of course.”
“Tell her to talk to Lucas Walker, Mayor Walker’s son. Santiago knows his mom. Lucas can vouch for Tyler. He saved him and his friends as well.”
“I’ll mention it to her.” Capri bent down beside him. Tyler could feel her distinct werewolf scent close by. “I’m more concerned about Tyler right now, though. You said he has a fever?”
A firm hand landed on his forehead, cold against boiling skin. The caring maternal touch took him by surprise. Most kids had probably had their foreheads screened for signs of illness by their parents, but Tyler couldn’t remember his father ever displaying such care. All he could remember was being told he was being overdramatic and unceremoniously being sent off to school despite a fever or a cold. While Tyler did believe a father could display such care toward their offspring, he wasn’t sure his own father had been capable of that amount of affection.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
The orders wouldn’t leave his head. They rang louder and louder, extinguishing everything he was. Apparently, it wasn’t only Wednesday that triggered them. Capri’s light touch had awoken the Hyde as well.
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill them all!
“Get off me,” Tyler mumbled, swatting the hand away from his forehead to stop the insistent voices. He was afraid he would turn, and in this condition, he would have no chance to control the monster from within.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Capri said, having gotten enough of a sense of his temperature to make a verdict. “He’s burning up.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Wednesday asked. “I bandaged his wounds from the fight, but this is something else. Why the fever?”
Capri sighed again. “There is a conflict in his body between his human and Hyde side. Without a master, they can’t reconcile. It’s a common condition, especially for young male Hydes. I believe Tyler suffered from it before, after he escaped Willow Hill. Some call it Hyde fever. All those hormones swirling around in their bodies, combined with rage, is a lethal combination. It prevents Hydes from healing in the turning process, and deteriorates their bodies and minds.”
“I thought the tribe taught Tyler how to master himself?"
“It’s not an exact science what will work for each Hyde. Tyler hadn’t turned for almost a year before last night. The tribe’s methods may have worked for as long as he didn’t. But now the clash is even more violent because the Hyde was locked in for so long.”
“So what happens if he turns again?”
“He really shouldn’t.” The stern edge to Capri’s voice cemented the message. Giving in to the Hyde would be really bad news. “But we’ll worry about that, and any other symptoms later on. Right now, the most important thing is to get his fever down.”
“And if we don’t?”
Capri paused before answering, as if weighing whether she wanted to tell Wednesday the truth. “We’ll worry about that when we come to it,” she eventually replied. Tyler suspected there wouldn’t be much to worry about at that point, at least not for him. ”I’ll get some stuff from the school nurse that can help him, both fever-reducing medicine for normies and herbal-based remedies for outcasts, and then…” she paused, inhaling deeply, “then we can only hope his body can fight this.”
Waves of painful dreams were about to take Tyler away again. His back arched as cramps set in, making pearls of sweat run down his forehead. Through the fog, he sensed someone next to him—someone who cared. He stayed for her. Wednesday didn’t touch him, as she’d been told not to, but he knew she sat nearby.
“Tyler,” Wednesday whispered, reaching through the blur of screams and pain. “If you can hear me, I want you to know one thing.”
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
The fever had heard her, chanting its repetitive song. Tyler fought against it, listening for her parting words before he plunged into darkness.
“I didn’t miss,” she said.
Notes:
I'm shamelessly using Tyler's fever for an opportunity at some flashbacks! I actually didn't initially mean for him to get this sick, but it just sort of happened. So now he'll need Wednesday more than ever.
I'll probably get the next chapter up already tomorrow, as I kind of wrote them together, and they feel like they go together.
Chapter 33: Lion King
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tyler emerged from sticky, feverish dreams to muted voices. Wednesday must have employed a whole crew to watch over him. She was there, as well as Enid and Ajax. Capri also visited briefly, dispensing something that tasted bitter into his mouth and pressing a compress that smelled strongly of mint and eucalyptus to his chest.
He was no longer sweating but instead freezing to the bone. Shivers shook his body, and his teeth chattered, unable to heat itself. He spun underneath the sheets, tangling himself in the process. Just as the cold was becoming unbearable, a thick blanket was put on top of him. Another followed, and then a third one. A hand whisked against his skin in the process, triggering the monster inside. Even such a slight touch was deemed unacceptable.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
He pressed his eyes closed, trying to lock the monster in as the warm wrapping started to heat his limbs. The shivers stopped, but not the orders.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
Still, the ringing in his head told him she was there, comforting him. That knowledge in itself made him hold on, bracing himself for another trip to dreamland.
…
Tyler was back at Willow Hill, a place of recurring nightmares. Alarms blared, and people screamed.
He stood before Wednesday, although he wasn’t in his human form. He was gnashing teeth and fuming fury. His gigantic hand was raised in the air with vicious claws extended. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in her eyes, only awe and spite.
Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams. Kill Wednesday Addams.
The insistent order rang in his head. He’d killed his master—she who’d tormented and manipulated him—but her wish remained, and without her, his primal Hyde mind didn’t know what to do. Everyone and everything appeared to be a threat.
He needed to kill them all. Only then could he be safe.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
He swiped toward the girl in front of him, eager to remove the threat.
No!
A new order from a new voice appeared. It came from somewhere within him, an instinct to protect rather than vanquish. It couldn’t stop his movement, but it forced the Hyde to retract his claws. Instead of impaling the threat, he sent her on a trajectory through the window. It was all he could do.
The Hyde looked in confusion toward the shattered glass. Tyler looked toward the same glass with relief.
…
Wednesday’s voice filled the room, clear and steady. The tune didn’t trigger any unwanted reactions from the monster this time. Tyler kept still to keep it that way.
“Viper knew that Taylor had perished in that faithful espresso machine accident, but yet, she couldn’t accept it. Because she still saw him sometimes. He visited her, and not just in her dreams.”
She was reading her story to him. The one she didn’t let anyone have a peek at.
Tyler made sure not to miss a single word as she continued.
“Viper saw Taylor sometimes. Out in the garden or strolling through the woods. Always in the distance. He looked the same but yet not. It was as if someone had patched him together from pieces of himself and locked him in a dark presence in the process.”
While Tyler wanted desperately to hear the rest of the story, he couldn’t escape the tiredness in his limbs. Calmed by the lull of her voice, he sank into peaceful slumber, his body neither too warm nor too cold.
…
This dream was different. It wasn’t scary or traumatic. It was simply a mundane, locked-away memory of a time long past, or perhaps a wishful figment of his imagination.
Tyler was little, not more than five years old or so, hiding beneath a blanket on the couch. The plaid fabric smelled like pine and coffee, and the material was a bit itchy. Still, it felt comforting to his little body, ravaged by a stuffy nose, all-consuming drowsiness, and alternating spells of freezing and sweating.
From the kitchen, he heard his father’s voice, talking on the phone. “Well, what am I supposed to do, Ritchie? The little guy has the flu. I was up all night because his fever spiked. You know I’m alone with him. You have to call in someone else.”
A beep sounded as Donovan hung up the cordless phone, followed by the sound of the fridge opening. Muffled footsteps moved across the living room carpet.
“Here you go, buddy.”
Tyler peeked out from underneath the blanket to receive a juice box from his dad, who slumped down next to his son on the couch. Donovan wasn’t dressed in his usual police uniform, but rather a green-and-black flannel paired with jeans.
“Let me help you,” he offered patiently as Tyler struggled to get the straw into the box of grape juice. His clumsy attempts were threatening to flood the couch with sticky beverage.
“Can we watch The Lion King?” Tyler asked, while happily sucking sweet liquid down his throat.
“We already watched The Lion King this morning,” Donovan noted, in vain showing his son the options of other DVDs available. There was Toy Story, Finding Nemo, and Cars 1, 2, and 3. Tyler had gone through a car-obsessed phase but had recently moved on to animals. “And last night. Twice even.”
“Again, daddy!” Tyler insisted.
Donovan sighed, shaking his head. “If that’s what you want, son. My buddies at the station will mock me for knowing this damn movie by heart…”
“Lion King!” Tyler repeated cheerily. “I want to watch Simba, and Timon, and Pumbaa!”
Donovan leaned over to hug his son close, putting his hand on his son’s forehead. “You don’t feel as warm anymore, Ty, I think your fever may be breaking,” he concluded.
“Can we still watch The Lion King?” Tyler asked, snuggling into his dad’s chest. He smelled like pine and coffee, as always.
“Sure, buddy, we can watch The Lion King as many times as you want.” Donovan leaned toward the side table to locate the remote, and soon dancing animals filled the screen.
…
Tyler opened his eyes. His body felt heavy and drained, but it was no longer aching or shaking. The pile of sheets and blankets atop him was soaked in sweat, but the pain appeared to have poured out of him.
Wednesday sat beside him, her head folded over onto the bed. Soft, cute snores filled the room, sounding a bit like a purring cat.
He reached out a hand, touching her braid, which spilled out over the sheets. No one screamed in his head when he patted the criss-crossed black hair, which looked messy rather than neat.
“Wednesday,” he whispered, his voice growly and low from not being used.
Wednesday looked up, creases from the sheet adorning her face, and her bangs falling out of order. “Tyler…” Forgetting to raise her guard, she let a smile of relief slip by. “Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, his neck muscles hurting from the movement. “I think so,” he mumbled. “How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
“Have you been here the whole time?”
“Others were by as well.”
That answer didn’t specify her own whereabouts. The fact that she’d let her hair deteriorate into a bird’s nest and hadn’t changed her clothes—she still wore the same shiny black leggings and checker-patterned t-shirt she’d worn when finding him the cave—certainly indicated that she had been there for the main part of that time.
Tyler scooted his hand out from underneath the layers of blankets. Wednesday put her hand atop. Despite the prolonged contact, no damn orders bellowed in his head. Her touch was like raindrops in summer, calming and eagerly awaited.
“How did you even get me back here?” he asked, coughing as his voice barely carried.
“Lucas and the other guys helped me carry you.”
“So they are all alright then?”
She nodded to confirm.
“I guess I’m not alright though…” Sitting up slightly, such a slight movement, but yet it knocked the wind out of him, he started taking inventory of his injuries, noticing bandages around his lower arms, a neatly taped wound on his eyebrow, and gauze wrapped around his rib cage.
“You have some cuts and bruises,” Wednesday explained, going into doctor mode. “A couple of broken ribs and a concussion. Capris says everything should heal once the fever is gone. You just need to rest.”
Tyler lay back down, already exhausted from the minor movements and brief conversation. While his body still felt heavy, it did feel like his own again. Sleep once again allured. Closing his eyes and giving in seemed like it would nourish him rather than trap him in a horror movie of his own mind.
“You need to drink,” Wednesday insisted, grabbing something from the bedside table. “You need fluids and sugar.”
“Ay ay, doc.” Tyler chuckled when she offered him a bright orange juice box, even inserting the straw for him. The chuckle turned into a grimace as he was reminded of his broken ribs.
“You shouldn’t laugh,” she admonished him, still holding the container to his lips. The sugar-laden beverage did bring some much-needed energy to his drained body.
“Just now or in general?” he asked. Laughter and jolliness were, after all, not her preferred moods. Wednesday Addams favored doom and gloom.
She gave him a dark look. He chuckled again, which turned into a coughing fit as he tried to hold back to spare his poor ribs.
“Told you.” Wednesday fought to hold back a smile, distracting herself by tucking in the blankets around him. Tyler still saw it. He treasured it.
Gaining control of his body again, he yawned, sinking into the sheets. Some proper sleep, rather than half-conscious writhing and way too familiar dreams, did sound like a good idea.
“Wednesday,” he mumbled, reaching for her hand once again.
“I’m here,” she assured him, wrapping his hand in a soothing embrace. “I won’t go anywhere.”
“There’s one thing I need to tell you.” He opened his sleepy eyes, gazing into the black abyss of hers. “I…” he started, pausing to find the right words in his scrambled brain. “I didn’t miss either. I did what I could to stop myself.”
Notes:
Of course, I had to take the opportunity to write baby Tyler! I'm definitely not trying to vindicate Donovan as some kind of dad of the year, though. He wasn't really a good dad, but in this specific moment on this specific day, he was at least a decent one.
I figured it made sense, baby Tyler would latch onto The Lion King, as it also features a parent dying. So while he may also enjoy the dancing animals and silly jokes, I think he would relate to Simba on another level as well (which his little mind probably wouldn't comprehend).
And Taylor the barista, may not be as dead as rumored!
Chapter 34: Emotion-Induced Power Destabilization
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tyler woke up to an impish face beaming down at him. The proximity took him by surprise, and he rolled toward the wall to retreat. “Ahhh,” he screamed, in a very manly way. The sudden movement hurt his ribs, causing him to follow up the scream with a whimpering “Ow.”
“Are you awake, Hyde?” Pugsley didn’t seem at all concerned about Tyler’s shock or pain. He moved closer, reaching out a fat finger to inspect a fresh scar on Tyler’s exposed chest, where it joined an array of criss-crossing lines inflicted by different foes: Enid, his mother, and even himself.
“Well, I am now…” Tyler muttered, holding out his arm to remind Pugsley that personal space was a thing and that it should be respected. “And my name is still Tyler, not Hyde.”
Pugsley completely ignored this information. “Why do you have so many scars? Don’t Hydes heal when they turn back?”
Apparently, it was time for the Hyde Quiz Show. “Hydes only heal when in Hyde form; any injuries present when turning back will remain.” Tyler grabbed a wrinkly t-shirt from the floor, hiding the conversation topic in question beneath a layer of cotton. “So it depends on how quickly I turn back, if I will get scars or not.” At the Gates Mansion two years ago, when Tyler inflicted claw marks on his own skin, he’d forced the transformation on purpose to make sure it appeared as if the Hyde had attacked him.
If Capri was to believed, his healing process may be malfunctioning altogether at the moment. This was concerning since Hydes could survive gruesome injuries that humans couldn’t.
“Oh,” Pugsley nodded attentively, looking like he wanted to take notes on all these interesting Hyde facts. Perhaps he was planning to write an essay on Hyde physiology for their shared Paranormal Biology class.
“So what are you doing here?” Tyler swung his legs over the side of the bed and rustled a hand through his hair to untangle some curls. Having woken up from his fever only a day ago, he did feel a lot better, but the small movement still made him winded. A dull headache persisted, and fog of fatigue clouded his head. Perhaps actually getting out of bed would be a project for another day.
“Nothing… I’m just… hanging out.” Pugsley looked everywhere except at Tyler. The boy couldn’t lie for the life of him.
“Your sister told you to check on me while she’s in class, didn’t she?”
“Yes!” Pugsley smiled from the relief about not having to lie anymore. Then, he caught himself. “I mean… no? Please don’t tell Wednesday I said that! She threatened to tase me.”
“You and me both, buddy.” Tyler stretched his arms out to try them. A jolt of pain radiated through his body when the movement engaged one of his broken ribs. “I think that’s just her go-to threat.”
Pulling the hand back, Tyler instead started to make circles with his wrist. The scarred skin strained and itched underneath the bandages. “But I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine. So you don’t need to be here any longer.” Tyler was definitely far from fine, although he was better than he’d been the last few days, but he was in desperate need of some alone time, without someone hovering over him like he was a wounded baby bird.
The boy didn’t leave. He stayed by the door, awkwardly twisting his hands.
“Tell Wednesday I told you to go, so if she needs to tase anyone, it should be me.” Truthfully, Tyler was betting on his weak physical condition lessening Wednesday’s tasing desires. In an effort to convince Pugsley that he was well enough to leave by himself, Tyler braved himself to rise. The room spun, and a bout of nausea bubbled in his stomach. He ignored both, focusing on a dot on the wall while swallowing bile. Intent on not swaying, he walked up to Pugsley, who somehow seemed to have grown several inches just since the start of the semester. They were almost the same height by now. This must be why Pugsley always wore shorts; his parents had simply given up on constantly assuring he had pants that fit.
“It’s not that. I mean, I kind of enjoy the tasing. It’s already buzzing in my veins anyway.” Pugsley smiled as he displayed his electrifying powers by making lightning bolts flare from his fingertips. “I just wanted to ask you something… like about girls, I guess, or one girl rather.”
Why was Tyler the go-to guy for such queries? It wasn’t like he was successful or experienced in the romantic department, having kissed a grand total of one girl, who ran away after said kiss. Whatever happened between him and Wednesday in the cave the other day—whether that was a kiss or not—he hadn’t even been able to mentally unpack yet. Right now, he was just enjoying having her around a lot, doting on him in her special Wednesday way, which did involve a lot of scolding, orders, and admonitions. Forcing anything beyond that may scare her away again.
Romancing Wednesday Addams was a lot like attempting to befriend a skittish black cat. Any progress in regards to being allowed to at least exist in the vicinity could be halted by a sudden movement. Tyler knew this oh too well from when a skinny black cat with kittens took refuge in the dumpsters behind the Weatherwane. He’d eventually managed to catch them all in a cage and handed them over to the local cat shelter after abundant offerings of tuna.
Unfortunately, Wednesday Addams wasn’t as easily tempted by fish treats. What her currency was, Tyler was yet to figure out.
Apparently taking Tyler’s silence as confirmation that he could spill his heart out, Pugsley slumped down on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he settled in for a long conversation. “I just don’t know what to do,” he sighed deeply, picking at the frayed end of his striped shirt.
Realizing he couldn’t escape—since they were in his room and he didn’t feel well enough for any excursions beyond the door just yet—Tyler sat down beside the downtrodden boy, leaning against the wall behind him. He tried to disguise that he was panting from something as minor as standing and walking a few steps by pulling the closest blanket over his chest.
“So who is”—Tyler paused to inhale, which turned into a light cough before he could end the question—”the lucky girl?”
“Agnes.” Pugsley sighed, falling backward on the bed in despair. “She’s… sweet, and cute, and a bit weird. I really like her.”
This was exactly the answer Tyler had hoped for. Now he just had to pair these young dumb-dumbs up, and they wouldn’t bother him with their teenage angst anymore. He had enough of that on his own.
“So what’s the problem?” he asked, because Agnes certainly didn’t seem to have gotten the impression that Pugsley liked her in any sort of way, or even knew who she was.
“Every time I talk to her, she just disappears, like poof into the air.”
Since Agnes hadn’t mentioned spontaneous invisibility bouts to Tyler, he wondered if she hadn’t realized that her ability manifested in such a way when faced with her crush.
“And if I even look at her in class, my sparks start to go haywire, zapping all over the place,” Pugsley continued. “I caused a power outage for the whole school last week when a spark flew into a fuse box.”
It appeared Agnes wasn’t the only one suffering from emotion-induced power destabilization. Tyler had read about how hormones could affect one’s ability in their Paranormal Biology textbook. He suspected Pugsley hadn’t opened said book.
“So that was you…” The power outage had fallen during Tyler’s shift at the Telltale Cafe and had made the temperamental espresso machine stop mid-cycle, which had caused it to spew steam all over the yard, which in turn had started the fire alarm. All in all, it had been a fun day at Nevermore.
“So I kind of avoid looking at her,” Pugsley admitted. “Even though I want to.”
“Maybe you should keep trying to talk to her,” Tyler suggested, although he was aware of how hypocritical his advice was. He’d rather let Wednesday tase him than have another heart-to-heart conversation with her. “Like, even if she disappears. That should make things easier anyway, since if you don’t see her, your spark won’t be flying, right?”
“I guess…” Pugsley groaned into a pillow. “But how do I know she’s still there?”
“I think you just have to hope she hasn’t left. It’s a gamble, buddy.” Tyler patted Pugsley’s shoulder. While he didn’t have much patience for this conversation, he did have sympathy for the young man’s plight.
“What should I even talk about?”
“You could ask her to the All Hallows’ Eve Ball, perhaps?”
Pugsley stared at Tyler with wide eyes. “You think she wants to go with me?”
“You won’t know until you ask.” Tyler shrugged, figuring he’d done all the nudging he could. He wasn’t the right guy to act as an in-between in this puppy love saga. He was a ferocious Hyde with sharp teeth and vicious after all, not a cute Cupid with a bow and heart-shaped arrows.
Both their heads turned as the door flew open, exposing them to the judgmental stare of Wednesday Addams. She lifted an eyebrow upon noting their boyish camaraderie.
“Hey, Hyde was just—” Pugsley started, grinning nervously at his sister.
“Tyler,” Tyler corrected him, again. “My name is Tyler.”
“Right, Tyler was just telling me about how I should ask someone to the ball. Do you mind if I ask—”
“I mind everything you do, so don’t bother taking that into account,” Wednesday interrupted her younger brother. “Now scram, you’re not needed here anymore.”
Pugsley quickly jumped up from the bed, heeding his sister’s order without protest. Cautiously, he waved goodbye to Tyler while Wednesday looked away.
Notes:
After all the intensity in the last few chapters, I figured it was time to check in with Pugsley while Tyler is recovering! And to follow up on his ridiculous maybe-romance with Agnes.
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