Chapter Text
The woods were loud, crackling and whistling under the weight of winds that ripped through the air, grinding their journey northward and their current sighting investigation to an unwanted halt. They’d reached the Laurentides Wildlife Reserve, had followed a trail of sightings; a left behind patch of off-white fur with strands of pink or blue here and there; gashes left in trees sprinkled with remnants of purple or orange nail polish.
Stopped for far too long at a snapped in half tree with a “W E D” carved into it by a sharpened claw – the only color of polish there the black speckling the blood of Wednesday’s left hand, cut open as she dragged it over the harsh wood. A reminder, she told herself against the pain; just as that one nail had quietly been, unrecognized by Wednesday until it was too late.
Without question, Fester had moved at her side, understanding quickly that his niece wasn’t on some side quest, nor was this a simple family escapade, and she’d stifled his attempts at bonding with harsh words and even attempted murder from time to time. He’d seen her temper flare, he’d seen her angry and harsh, but as the days counted upward in their search, she’d become cruel – in a way unbecoming of an Addams.
Wednesday was on a mission, he knew.
Not to find an Alpha werewolf, as he had playfully thought when they embarked, but to find something far more important. He eyed her curiously, knowing his requests for more information had all been met with subterfuge – she excelled at it – and she’d challenged him to a duel in order to quiet his subtle searches for replies to questions, knowing, perhaps, she was as at much of a loss against the answers as he was.
“Full moon’s coming up. We should either hunker down for the night, or make a plan to keep moving – this snow isn’t budging an inch,” he told her softly, giving her a tight smile and a nod of his head.
Wednesday leaned into the alcove they’d found to take shelter from the sudden snowstorm, pressing until she could feel the pain of the rocky surface behind her pinching and pressing into her muscles. Reminding herself that around any corner there would be a pack of werewolves or a team of hunters – each ready with weapons and a single goal.
Ordinarily she would be salivating at the opportunity to see that war between beast and beast, or beast and man, but the target of this search was one she intended to find first. To save a life, not watch it be savagely taken.
She’d given her word.
Pushing off, Wednesday adjusted the scarf around her neck and looked to her uncle, giving him a simple nod before eyeing the direction they’d come from. The motorbike and sidecar had been left behind a large bush on the side of the road and they’d walked at least five miles into the wilderness following a howl Wednesday thought she had heard.
“We keep going,” Wednesday told him firmly, watching him tug a thick black beanie down on his head and straighten, hand coming up to offer her the lead.
Wednesday lifted her tired legs and stepped with heavy boots through the thickening blanket of snow. They could stop later; she knew that howl. They were too close for her to question if her memory had been affected by her desire to find her – if she might not have heard it at all, but simply longed to hear her friend’s voice.
Thing’s fingertips crawled up out from her backpack to settle on her shoulders, gripping at her for both support and warmth and she could see his tiny scarf, wrapped around his wrist, flapping against the frigid winds. He signed quickly before burrowing back against the wool wrapped around her neck.
Is she close?
Wednesday couldn’t answer, she merely pressed her lips together and continued on. His questions were as grating as her uncle’s. There were nights she considered abandoning them both to search on her own, but she had to be honest with herself. As much as she hated the thought, the girl she searched for had taught her a valuable lesson multiple times over the past two years, one she couldn’t afford to ignore: sometimes Wednesday Addams needed help.
“Keep up,” she barked at Fester, seeing his eyes widen and his hands come up, mockingly as they trudged on.
The whistling of wind shifted and she rushed forward, hearing the howl, unmistakable now. High-pitched, almost song-like, tickling her ears with its familiarity as she huffed out puffs of air. And then she heard another howl, different. Lower, rumbling, nothing like the first. It was accompanied by others and she looked to Fester as they slowed, trying to gauge where each had emanated from.
“The first is up ahead,” Wednesday offered. “It’s her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” She growled.
He shifted away, then nodded and glanced to his left, “The others came from the west, sounds like a few males.” He looked up to the moon and then back at Wednesday, “I’m not sure we can take on more than two males, even with your Alpha friend’s help.”
Nodding slowly, Wednesday accepted the words. They had no idea what condition she would be in when they found her. Some of the hair they had found had been splattered with dried blood. One of their trails had begun with a chipped claw tip. Closing her eyes, Wednesday took a breath and then she looked to Thing.
“Taser.”
Thing scampered into her backpack and emerged with the item, handing it to Wednesday as Fester understood – they were going forward and they had to be ready. He knelt in the snow and pulled his own pack off, rummaging for a small tranquilizer gun to load it and then stand. The fingertips of his free hand sparked as he chuckled.
“Let’s hope there’s not more than two then,” he told her lightly.
Wednesday eyed him, then told Thing, “You better take cover.”
She felt him drift back down into her bag, knowing he was digging for the can of bear spray there, ready just in case. Wednesday withdrew a hunting knife from her waist, holding it tightly in her right hand as she tested the taser in her left.
They moved forward, running carefully through the trees, hearing the howls getting closer. Wednesday waited for the one she wanted to hear, the one that had come from a space up ahead, but the air was silent beyond the storm’s screams.
Howl for me, Enid.
Her heart thumped at the simple thought. Her mind raced with a million memories of the girl. All of her words dancing like raindrops over her senses, prickling at her nerves. The conversations about dances and boys and friends and enemies. The fights and then the reconciliations. The half-truths and the admissions mixed in with her own unspoken thoughts in response – things she wished she had pushed beyond the fear to say.
Wednesday’s world went silent for those words Enid had spoken, locked in the lupin cages. She heard them echoing in her head, begging her gently, almost shyly.
If I wolfed out and couldn’t, you know, change back, would you come and find me?
Listening intently for one more word, one that wouldn’t come as a word at all, but the simplest of sounds, Wednesday slowed to a stop. Enid, please. She waited, hearing the crunch of her uncle’s footsteps slow, and her own breathing trembling through her lips. Wednesday heard it. It emerged as a whimper and Wednesday shifted slightly to her right and took off towards it, hearing Fester give a shout of surprise behind her.
Her shoulder slammed a tree and her foot tripped over a log hidden under snow, but she maintained her balance, going forward and jumping a log to fall into a clearing, rolling into the snow to land on one knee, the other foot planted firmly against the ground. Space lit only by the moon’s light, Wednesday’s eyes watched snowflakes drifting down onto a patch of freshly scratched at dirt – a black square the size of a grave – and then over to the wolf who lay beside it, head slowly lifting from her crossed paws.
The wolf seemed dazed, bright blue eyes marred by a sadness that emerged in a chuff exhaled in her direction before the head dropped back down onto her paws in response to the howls in the distance. She took a step forward, waiting for Enid to rise. Challenge her; tackle her; lap at her face like some stupid dog.
Enid did nothing, she merely lay there.
“Get up, what are you waiting for?” Wednesday asked harshly, standing upright, holding firmly to the knife and taser gun. Looking to both items and then to the wolf, hearing Fester sliding down into the space with a quiet whistle.
“She doesn’t look so good,” he offered.
Wednesday turned with a scowl. She’d noticed. Her fur was matted with dirt and grime or viscera and it clung to her thin frame – thinner than the last time Wednesday had seen her – and she could see a fairly fresh set of claw marks, scabbed over at her side. Her back right ankle was blood-crusted as well, and swollen, and all of her paws, Wednesday could make out, were raw.
Fester pointed, “You realize she doesn’t fit like that on the bike.”
“I know,” she spat. “There’s nothing in any of my research to tell me how to make her turn back except that she has to.”
“Oh, and here I thought you had that all figured out,” Fester called. “Alpha’s are funny creatures, tough as they come cookies, but without a pack, they’re pretty much toast.” He glanced up at the howls. “She didn’t happen to have one back at Nevermore that could be on their way?”
Wednesday looked back to Enid. “We have to go,” she told her urgently, taking a few steps forward.
Enid’s right paw lifted and landed atop the black space and then she rolled towards it, onto her side. Wednesday couldn’t understand, so she chanced to move closer and that’s when Enid bared her teeth, slowly rolling back onto her stomach. With a nod, Wednesday sheathed her knife and raised her right hand, but Enid was pushing to stand, wincing and moping as the weight set on that injured back paw.
“I know you understand me,” Wednesday began softly as Enid took a small step forward. “It’s next to impossible to find anything on Alpha’s because of how rare you are, but I don’t think Capri was telling you the whole truth. Only unstable Alpha’s are eradicated.” She watched Enid’s eyes stare into hers and she took a long breath with her. “If you will yourself to change back, they should leave you alone.”
“Wednesday,” Fester called. “We don’t have much time here.”
Enid blinked and sniffed, nose wrinkling as she began to bare her teeth again and the notion struck Wednesday suddenly – was she already too late? Had Enid already been lost to her time stuck in this werewolf form? Her blood froze in her veins at the thought. She’d failed her. Her one promise and she’d failed. Wednesday let out her breath and her shoulders slumped, listening to the wolf before her taking small breaths.
“Wednesday, she needs her pack,” Fester hissed.
Nodding, feeling the wolf coming closer, Wednesday breathed, “I am her pack.” She exhaled, feeling as though it were a breath she’d been holding since the day Enid had uttered those words to her. Accepting them fully.
Enid breathed as if to inhale the words, nose inching forward to touch Wednesday’s stomach. It drifted, touching at her thighs and then each hand before that snout lifted slightly and pressed into Wednesday’s chin, forehead bowing into Wednesday’s. She dropped the taser, lifting her hands automatically into the fur at either side of Enid’s face, burring her fingers through the faded pink and blue and feeling the remnants of those colors sting lightly.
Wednesday didn’t care. She sighed softly, “Enid, please.”
The howls were approaching and she heard Fester’s electricity start to spark in anticipation, and then she heard the wolf against her whimper softly before an odd cracking sound began. Wednesday had never heard it before, but she felt the hot breath warm her entirely before Enid’s nose nudged her away to fall onto her back into the snow.
Shifting away, the wolf began contorting and shrinking. Fur melted into skin, almost translucent, dirty and bruised. Wednesday watched in horror and fascination as her friend slowly dropped into the snow, naked body denting down into it.
“Fester!” Wednesday screamed.
The sound shocked her ears and for a moment she remained frozen to the spot, looking out at the shape of Enid, almost blending into the blizzard. Then she scrambled forward on her hands and knees, pulling her friend up against her, into her lap, hugging at her as she moaned, unconscious. Without her fur, Wednesday knew, her body temperature would plummet far too fast. Hypothermia would set in. It wouldn’t matter if the other werewolves got to them or not, Enid wouldn’t stand a chance either way.
“Fester, give me your coat!”
“Oh, oh dear,” he replied, startled when they came into view as he neared. He knelt beside his niece and her wolf, undoing the buttons on his white coat to strip himself of it and drape it over the pale frame, stark against Wednesday’s black ensemble. He almost smiled, yin and yang, but then the monstrous stomps of several sets of werewolf paws landed just a few feet away accompanied by growls that trembled the very ground they sat on.
Wednesday held Enid tighter, looking up at the first werewolf who approached. Smaller, but fiercer looking than the others, ratty hair and a wrinkled nose that reminded Wednesday of… Enid’s mother? She stared into the eyes that looked them over, the way those lips sneered at them. Wednesday withdrew her knife again, holding it out over Enid’s body towards the wolves and she could see Fester rising slowly, tranquilizer in hand.
“This is all just a terrible misunderstanding,” he offered lightly. “Seems like the Alpha is completely stable at current.”
The werewolf pawed at the ground. The other four approached, males, Wednesday observed – her brothers – sniffing lightly at the air before looking to the head of their pack. One whined and the foursome began to howl. Disagreement, Wednesday knew, seeing that werewolf turn to bark angrily. Wednesday reached to pull Enid’s feet closer to her, fingers brushing the delicate cold skin of her toes, knowing she had to get her someplace warm.
Fast.
“She’s mine,” Wednesday growled instinctively, waiting for the werewolf at the lead to turn sharply, seeing Fester glance at her curiously.
Enid’s brothers complained. Enid’s mother took a step forward, giving the air a hard sniff before exhaling roughly and stomping the ground again. A demand.
“Mine,” Wednesday repeated, fingers gripping the knife in her hand hard enough to wet her eyes with tears from the pain as she wrinkled her nose angrily. Staring Esther Sinclair directly in the eyes to challenge her. The wolf growled at her and she growled back feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand with the anger she felt rising within her.
Then the werewolf howled again, short and rough, and she turned, sprinting away. The others lingered, each staring down at their baby sister, each giving Wednesday a single nod of their heads, before one by one, they scampered away after their mother. Wednesday remained, knife held out, other hand wrapped at Enid’s waist, tears dropping against her hot cheeks, and then she felt Fester’s hand at her shoulder.
“Let me take her, it’s a long walk,” he offered quietly.
For a moment, she resisted, some kind of primal fear overriding her common sense and she shifted Enid away from him, the knife lifting to point at his eyes. Frightened eyes. She had never seen Fester frightened of her. Wednesday exhaled sharply, gaze drifting from Fester down to Enid.
Her lips were parted, cracked and dry, bloody just at the center and her skin was freckled with red from the cold. Wednesday nodded shortly and the tense arms she’d been holding on with loosened, letting fester shift her up so Wednesday could close the coat around her. Fester hoisted Enid up into his arms as Wednesday undid her boots to removed the wool socks she wore, pulling them onto Enid’s feet, unconsciously rubbing warmth back into them as they glanced around.
“She waited for you,” Fester offered quietly as she pulled her boots back on.
Wednesday glanced up at him, confused before she followed the rise of his chin towards that black space. The earth there was already covered over in a light layer of snow, but Wednesday could still see it. Now she considered it, five feet by two feet. Just big enough for her to lay next to Enid’s wolf form.