Chapter Text
Familia ante omnia. Family over all. That is the motto the Addams family lives and breathes by. Even with their macabre tendencies to cause mischief and terrify one another, their love binds them together.
Any normal person would find it strange how little Wednesday and Pugsley Addams torment each other. Any normal person would be disturbed by the lax, loving smiles Gomez and Morticia would don while looking at their children. The children who just so happen to torture each other for fun.
It's not normal, some would say. It's not right, others would reply.
Eventually, that motto would catch up to Wednesday Addams who unleashed dozens of trained piranhas on the swim team because they tormented her brother. Which is her job.
Because nobody is allowed to touch her family except her.
'In retrospect,' Wednesday ponders bitterly, 'I should've dropped the piranhas earlier. Maybe then I wouldn't be subjected to this torture.'
She closes her eyes to sigh when her parents passionately love on each other. She doesn't wish to hear them being in love or their heavy lip smacks.
"Darling," Morticia begins, her voice smooth and her lips quirked into a soft smile, "how long do you intend on giving us the cold shoulder?"
Wednesday turns to address Lurch. "Lurch, please remind my parents that I'm no longer speaking to them."
Lurch grunts.
Morticia hums, and Gomez speaks next. "I promise you, my little viper, you will love Nevermore." He turns to his wife with a loving smile on his face. "Won't she, Tish?"
"Of course she will," Morticia is quick to agree. "It's the perfect school for her."
"Why? Because it was the perfect school for you?" she inquires. "I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team, Queen of the Dark Prom, President of the Séance Society."
Not unless she will benefit from it in some way, that is.
"I merely meant that finally you will be among peers who understand you," Morticia reiterates. "Maybe you'll even make some friends."
Wednesday blinks, uncomfortable.
Gomez grins. "Nevermore is like no other boarding school. It's a magical place." He turns his head to gaze at his wife. "It's where I met your mother. And we fell in love."
Wednesday stares as her parents sigh in yearning and lean in towards each other.
"You guys are making me nauseous," She interrupts. Once her parents turn to her, she continues. "And not in a good way."
"Darling, we aren't the ones who got you expelled," Morticia says. "That boy's family was going to file attempted murder charges." She gazes out the window. "How would that have looked on your record?"
"Terrible." Wednesday stares to the side in contemplation. "Everyone would know I failed to get the job done."
Morticia hums and Gomez shrugs in slight agreement.
Wednesday turns her attention to the window, and she watches a truck drive by. The rest of the drive to Nevermore is silent (though she is curious when she hears what appears to be a deep roar in the woods), and Wednesday is keen on giving her parents the silent treatment all the way to her new principal's office.
"Wednesday is certainly a unique name," The woman, Larissa Weems, says with a smile. So this is how somewhat normal people greet each other. "I'm guessing it was the day you were born?"
"I was born on Friday the 13th," Wednesday replies.
"Her name comes from a line from my favorite nursery rhyme, 'Wednesday's child is full of woe'." Morticia smiles as her daughter stares blankly at the principal.
Weems says, "You always had a unique perspective on the world, Morticia," Morticia hums, and Weems focuses her attention onto Wednesday. "Did your mother tell you we were roommates back in the day?"
"And you graduated with your sanity intact? Impressive."
That forces a slight falter to Morticia's smile.
Wednesday sees no point in this. Pleasantries with other people who aren't her family have never been her strong-suit. If she is to be abandoned at a school hundreds of miles from her family, she would rather be kicked out and for the car to speed off. Or for the car to continue moving whilst she's being tossed away like trash.
Maybe Wednesday could experience a broken bone. She has always wished to know what it would feel like.
"You've certainly had a very interesting educational journey." Weems is getting down to business. She looks at Wednesday's academic file. "Eight schools in five years."
"They haven't built one strong enough to hold me. I bet this place won't be any different."
Gomez comes in to the rescue. "What our daughter is trying to say is that she greatly appreciates the opportunity."
"Nevermore doesn't usually accept students mid-term," Weems says. She glances between the family members, "but given Wednesday's perfect grades and your family's long history with the school, I've spoken with the board and we've made an exception."
"Larissa, what about Wednesday's, um...therapy sessions? The court ordered them," hums Morticia.
"The school has a relationship with a therapist in Jericho. She can meet twice a week," assures Weems.
"Did you hear that, my little storm cloud? You're in excellent hands," Gomez addresses Wednesday.
"We'll see if she survives the first session," Wednesday says.
"I've assigned you to your mother's old dorm. Ophelia Hall," reveals Weems to Morticia's delight.
"Refresh my memory." Wednesday turns to look at her mother for clarification. "Ophelia's the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?"
Gomez ponders the question while Morticia simply nods, a soft smile coming to her lips.
Weems smiles. "Should we go meet your new roommate?"
Wednesday sighs. A roommate. Perfect. Of course the adults would pair her up with someone to make escape less achievable. No matter. She shall give them two options: join her and use them to aid in her escape from this dreaded school, or force them to join her and use them to aid in her escape from this dreaded school.
Either way, they will join her willingly or be subjected to light torture and then join her.
Wednesday's thoughts are interrupted when Weems speaks up.
"Now, we wanted to put you in Ophelia Hall's room in the attic; however, given your parents's advice, I elected to put you one floor below," says Weems. "It's a precaution and a loss on your part, but I believe you will adore your roommate. She's a bright one."
That garners curiosity from Wednesday.
"I'm intrigued. You said it was a loss on my part—" Wednesday glances up at the principal as she continues, "—I wish to know what you meant by that."
Weems regards her with a raise of her eyebrow. "You would've been blessed with a balcony. One big enough for your cello."
Wednesday glares back at her parents. So now they go behind her back and spill her interests to someone she doesn't trust.
"How quaint you three are with one another disgusts me," she grumbles. "If that is how you expect me to interact with my future peers, you will be sorely disappointed."
"I don't expect you to assimilate to the Nevermore experience right away, but I do think this will be an amazing opportunity for you to meet people like yourself," Weems states. "Perhaps your roommate could become your first friend?"
"I doubt it."
Weems stops in the hall and stands next to the door closest to the stairs. Wednesday gazes at the stairs going up. As much as she doesn't like to complain, a balcony would have been a decent add-on to her already terrible "Nevermore experience".
"And here we are." Weems opens the door and immediately frowns.
Instead of waiting for Weems to spit out whatever sentence is souring her face, the three Addamses step forward into the room.
It's a dark blend of blacks and reds on the left half of the room. The window is large and more than half of it has been covered with black silk to block the sun on the left half. The room clearly lacks a balcony.
"Ms. Tanaka," Weems starts with a hint of exasperation in her tone, "what is the meaning of this?"
The girl, Ms. Tanaka, immediately snaps her head up upon recognizing the principal's voice. She is seated next to another girl with her brown hair slicked back and light eyes. Both of them look sheepish, hands coming off of the other.
The light-eyed girl stands. "Uh…Sorry, Principal Weems. I'll see you later, Yoko."
"Bye, Divina," Yoko calls out as Divina brushes past Wednesday, checking shoulders by accident, and out of the room.
How nice. She already has someone she can spread the definition of despair to.
"Ms. Tanaka, did you forget what I told you a few days ago?" questions Weems. "We needed to make a good first impression on your new roommate when she arrived."
Yoko pauses at Weems's words. She comes to a stop in front of Wednesday and her parents before pushing black circle glasses onto her face.
"That was today?" Yoko inquires.
Weems narrows her eyes, her smile tighter and more forced than before. "Yes, Ms. Tanaka, it was."
"My bad, my bad." Yoko holds her hand out for Wednesday to shake. "Yo."
Wednesday turns around and glares. "I wish to leave at once."
"Wednesday, why don't you give it a chance. Introduce yourself." Morticia smiles, pushes her to put herself out there. With an inaudible sigh, Wednesday spins back around.
Yoko raises her eyebrow. "You good? You're kinda pale," Leaning in, Yoko grins a little. "And not in a vampire way like me."
So her roommate is a vampire. That makes narrowing down torture elements significantly easier should she ever cross Wednesday.
"Wednesday always looks half dead," Gomez says.
"I get that. Only difference between you and me's the fact that I'll burn up if I don't have these sunglasses." Yoko taps her finger to her glasses. She grins. "Welcome to Ophelia Hall, Wednesday."
Wednesday stares at Yoko. Then her uniform. What an awful shade of blue-tinted violet. She can already feel the synthetic dye irritating her skin.
"Like my uniform? We all get one of these, but I think you'd look good in blue."
Wednesday says nothing, but Yoko doesn't seem put off by her silent roommate.
"Please excuse Wednesday," Morticia says. She eyes the striped blue uniform with distaste. "She's allergic to color."
At that, Yoko lowers her sunglasses to stare incredibly at the girl. One side of her mouth quirks up into a disbelieving smirk.
"You're kidding, right?" The vampire inquires. "What happens?"
"I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones."
It may be an exaggeration, but there has never been anything wrong with expanding the truth. Should there be a day where Wednesday comes in contact with color, she can give her roommate a heart attack.
Well, it would only work if Yoko's heart truly does beat.
"Luckily, we've special-ordered you a uniform," Weems cuts in to continue Wednesday's introduction to the school. "Yoko, please take Wednesday to the registrar's office to pick it up along with her schedule, and give her a tour along the way."
Yoko adjusts her ruffled clothes and tie, and gives Wednesday a polite smile. "You ready to go?"
And with that, Yoko leaves the room with Wednesday close behind. Although the raven-haired girl gives her parents a death glare as she is carted off.
…
"Y'know you're not that scary, right?" Yoko mentions much to Wednesday's chagrin.
"Just because you haven't witnessed the full range of terror I can induce," Wednesday starts with a hint of irritation lacing her tone, "doesn't mean you happen to be safe."
"That's ominous."
"It was meant to be," The goth responds.
Yoko grins and shakes her head. "I like you, Wednesday."
"Refrain from uttering those words again lest you wish to find out the pain Holy water can inflict on a vampire's skin."
"Yeah yeah, you can try it all you want," Yoko cheekily says as she sidles up to Wednesday, "but Weems got rid of anything that could kill any of us."
"How unfortunate."
"Man, you're kinda an emo."
Wednesday scoffs and rolls her eyes. Emo. What a ridiculous generalization. Because she wears black and has a less than optimistic view on life, it automatically classifies something. Puts her into a category to be written off.
Wednesday despises the notion of being put into a box. Of being defined, labeled. Because it explains nothing about her beyond her physical qualities.
She's snapped out of her brooding mood by Yoko poking her cheek. Her eyes cut silver daggers at the vampire.
"Stop that," Wednesday hisses. "Or else I will enjoy your suffering when I am forcing you to consume garlic."
Yoko's eyebrows raise and her mouth parts. For a moment, Wednesday believes she finally got through to the girl, finally pushed her buttons enough to render her silent.
But no. Nothing ever comes easy nowadays.
Yoko smirks and pokes her cheek again, and Wednesday cannot keep the growl from her voice as she snatches the other's wrist in a vice grip.
"You're pretty cute when you're angry," teases Yoko.
A small flush rises to Wednesday ears. "You will die by my hands."
"No thanks." The vampire waves her off. She leads Wednesday to another flight of stairs to some courtyard. "C'mon, I gotta show you everything Nevermore has to offer!"
Wednesday raises her hands once the vampire turns around, but she immediately drops them. Throttling Yoko would do nothing. She's an undead creature, so she would come back.
Unless Wednesday crafts a stake?