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tarjapearce · 6 months

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Chapter 3: Innocent As A Lamb

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Emotional distress, mild comfort, angst, subtle hints of ptsd, more character background, confrontation, lies exposed, mild physical aggression, mentions of abortion,

Summary: Miguel isn't used to consequences.

Pt. 4

A/N: Finally got this down ❤️. Hope to live up to this jskjs.

We have to talk. Meet me at the parking lot.

The message had truly confused him, he wasn't one for texting, much less engaging into something so vain and boring like making acquaintances in work, unless they provided something substantial he could use in his favor. Had someone spread out his number again?

The thought made his lips morph into a smirk. Was this another crazed woman obsessed over him he didn't know about, even though some of the lab staff knew he was engaged?

Miguel wasn't immune to gossips, yet being the reason of one, was borderline amusing. It was rare when they managed to actually divert his attention to anything that wasn't work or Dana.

The latter however seemed more vexing and pestering than usual, he truly couldn't identify a culprit. But the ways of making up kept a smile on his face for long enough until the cycle repeated itself again.

Once married things would likely turn for the worse. Dana had been already increasing her control over him and viceversa. Always caught up in the neverending power play that somehow he ended up winning with flying colors. A sore loser and a bad winner.

Thrilling at first, but now everything but fun. Miffing in fact. And it showed in his eyes whenever she wasn't around but still, she managed to sour or dull his expression either via calls or messages.

He had been with her for long enough, but the benefits she offered were way too rewarding to let go. He knew what he represented in Dana's life.

A rich, hunk and trophy soon-to-be husband.

But as long as he was left unbothered while working or having her shut up, he didn't care. In fact, he flipped a finger on life long time ago and ever since none of his irreverence and cynism stopped.

He tossed the briefcase in the car and then hopped in, after confirming a dinner date, for the umpteenth time with her future bride and torment.

She loved getting under his skin, but he enjoyed enough in getting inside her to quiet her down enough to leave him alone. It was like sex was one of the only true reasons they remained together, no matter how much they disguised it as love. A long term lust that had sufficed them both enough to go by.

Cause in truth, love had been shoved to the back of the shelf and forgotten after the two year mark. Complacency takin it's place.

A new array of seasonings like jealousy, disrespect, cheating had joined the rack, casting a deep shadow over love, pushing it to the very end of the already malnourished emotional ledge.

Straying away from what had originally brought them together yet unable to let go. Yet again complacency had made both too cozy and lazy to expand their horizons in meeting new sort of people and shaping new bonds. Perpetuating the Chernobyl-like situation brewing between the both to a new level.

He never looked back. Always moving forward either the good or bad way, but moving. Not stopping for nothing and anyone, something he had learned from the least suspecting person in his life. His biological father. Tyler had showed him through actions, and not precisely in a healthy way. He had learned all that someone must never teach a man.

Liar, deceiver, manipulator, and so many more things that one would never believe if someone said 'Miguel O'Hara is a cheater.' Way too disingenuous to keep a remarkable reputation of a recluse and engaged genetic engineer.

But of course, there was a big chance someone had messaged him by accident. He blocked the number a couple of minutes later after receiving it.

He drove away.

"Pregnant?"

MJ's stonishment was upsetting. Not because you hadn't told her, but rather the circumstances the life changing event were conceived.

Her face paraded with so many emotions since it was hard to not feel something wrong about it, and the whole fiasco screamed and thrashed with all sorts of wrongness.

But even so, the absence of a judging stare made your senses to relax a bit, even if you were sprawled in your bed and her hands caressed your hair in a measly attempt to soothe your frying nerves. Her motherly antics paid off for a bit.

"He knows, right?"

Your silence earned a blasé sigh from the redhead.

"How is he going to know he fucked up if you don't tell him!?"

"It's not as simple as you think, MJ. He's sneaky. I sent him a text message, and surprise, he blocked the number."

Mary Jane blinked a couple of times, processing your mumblings.

"My goodness what a dick!."

"He is. Just... I'll tell him."

"Do you think he's gonna-"

"Tell me to fuck off?. That's for sure. If anything, I've already taken a choice."

"And, are you sure of it?"

With a shaky breath you sat on the bed, facing your best friend. A script writer and part of a theatrical troupe. You had met her after going on a date with a guy that was obsessed over the company's plays.

And most importantly, a mother of a one year old you had scarcely seen and met, just like her husband. Two times to be precise. In her wedding and MJ's baby shower. But her baby, a lovely girl called Mayday was always present in her phone's gallery.

"I am sure. I... I'm so not ready for this." You bit your inner cheek briefly, "I don't wanna be a mom. Much less knowing that my hypothetical child would be the next Cain."

MJ shot a confused look your way.

"You know, God punished him with a permanent mark on his forehead so none would kill him."

"Right" her ginger brow raised at your words

"But it was his way of punishing him by letting everyone know what he had done." You gestured with flailing hands in the air, "In few words, I'm sparing the child a really fucked up talk on how I met their sperm donnor."

MJ casted her eyes away, she knew things were messed up as they were, even though her mind wandered towards a curious yet forbidden territory of wondering how you'd look with a pregnant belly, she knew things just didn't work like that.

Maternity in most of the cases arrived in unexpected ways, yet, not everyone embraced it with open arms and happy tears. You had been already so brave to see the news through, even though your brain still needed to catch up with them.

MJ held your hand and pulled you closer to her. All of the people you could confide in was her. Out of everyone, she knew better than anyone what was like to be a mother. She'd call you in the verge of tears sometimes saying how much she wanted to call it quits. Empathy was one of best traits.

"No matter what you choose, I'm sure it'll be for the best. And if you want me to be there for you, I will."

"I know, thank. I... don't even wanna tell him, cause what use would be? I'm sure he doesn't even remembers-"

"Still, you must tell him. He owes you an explanation."

"Doubt he's happy or even cooperating in giving one."

Your hand was squeezed gently. There wasn't much that needed to be said, terrifying as it was the confrontation was a must. Mostly for your own closure, you needed that chapter in your life over once and for all and if it meant to look up for a new job, away from him and the mess, then so be it.

Dread.

The bravado you had mustered a week ago was now dead, leaving a strong trepidation in its place.

In your mind, the conversation had been replayed over and over you had even learned the possible outcomes in the answer and neither of them was good or comforting.

Nauseous stomach and Bambi-like legs walked you over your work spot. Like a cage, with tiny space in between it's bars, allowing little to no room for you to try and escape.

Your body could, but the mind had already sentenced itself for a long time, imprisoned with the same thoughts over again. Miguel was your cage, and you weren't that sure you'd ever be free.

A tiny part of your reasoning cheered you to seek freedom by telling him.

The truth will set us free

Of course, but it always came with a price, and maybe you didn't have enough to pay it.

As the day marched through the eight hour's end, your thoughts gravitated with anger. Be it the hormones changing, or the constant voice telling you to confront him, brought back a little bravado you thought dead. You had asked for permission to be let go an hour earlier to intercept him.

And this time there was no escape. No more cold shoulders, no more waiting, even if your body wasn't listening to you and definitely no more niceties.

Taking your purse and the proofs of your condition in your hand, you marched towards the parking lot. Ready for a battle you were sure was lost before it started. A Leonidas versus Xerxes.

You waited in one of the benches scattered around the place, eyes trained to the exit door. Waiting felt like forever and being pregnant surely made it worse. It was like pregnancy granted you the power to slow time, but instead of being a blessing, it was proving to be a nuisance.

But there he was, parading himself with a belittling swag as he moved through the other workers. Face blasé, jaw tightened and fist clenching tightly at a little leather folder he had smothered in his large hand.

He pulled out his keys, and deactivated the car's alarm.

You stood. Heart beating a mile per second, breathings deep and shaky, just as your steps towards him. You could run away and hide, spare him the truth and the already brewing verbal assault you were unprepared to take part in. Spare him and you the immediate disgust.

But you weren't God to forgive.

A deep exhale was taken before approaching him carefully while he fumbled with the keys on his hand. Your narrowing steps alerted him, and your shape came into view in his window's reflection.

He turned and for a second, you wished he didn't.

Deep rusty brown eyes stared at you, after recognizing your face, anger in them betraying his unbothered demeanor. The keys stopped tinkering as they were scrunched up in his fist.

"What do you want?"

You frowned, he glared. An iceberg was warmer than his own voice.

"We need to talk."

Plump lips twitched into a scowl on his frightening face.

"We've got nothing to talk about. Everything's pretty fucking clear between us. Or do you want me to spell it for you?"

"Is it really hard for you to stop being an idiot?"

A derisive 'tsk' from him while you narrowed your eyes into a glare. As he turned to face you, his arms crossed his chest, enlarging him even more, but you didn't coward. Anger rivaled your politeness, but every word that came off him made the ire tab to go skyrocketing.

"Amuse me, then."

He gestured with a hand towards you, inviting and mocking to then going back to their original position. Your lips trembled as you spoke.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyelids drooped lazily, clearly unamused yet still you had managed to pull out a genuine laugh off him.

"Dios mío..." He raked a hand over his head, shoulders shaking in little laughter, even though it all was stemmed out of an underlying doubt and rising anxiety.

"If you want money to keep it quiet, just say it."

"God, just when I think you can't go lower, here you are proving me wrong." Your anger spoke for you and he had to hold back a snort, "I don't want your money, or anything that comes from you."

The irrefutable proofs of that night, printed on those pages were shoved into his hands.

"What is this?" His voice skeptical and subtly alarmed as the clinic's logo came into his vision.

"Consequences. Care to explain how on earth that happened?"

His eyes scanned the paper, laughter and derision slowly dying the further he read on. His eyes narrowed at a certain part of the information. 9 weeks.

"So?"

His eyes glared at you to then go back to the paper and the ultrasound pictures. A little bean-like creature was growing within. A creature that had part of his DNA, forming itself with each passing day, enclosed in a comfy looking cocoon.

No.

His hands grope the paper so tight it had crumpled mercilessly under his snapping fingers. His body had turned frigid, paralized with a crashing and burning numbness spreading through his limbs. Muscles on his extensive and mountainous shoulders contracted in such rigidness, he looked liked he'd break and snap at any second.

No. No. No.

Yet they rose erratically, matching his breathings. A hand was able to let go from the paper, only to rake through his hair once more, as if trying to scruff out the chaotic thoughts. He kept looking between you and the paper.

"This..." He gulped, tasting his own words. In truth he had already forgotten about that night, but for you to return with such news was the cherry on top of a shitty day.

"Amused enough?"

"Get rid of it."

He pushed the paper back in to your hands while seething, the mere touch of them burning his skin. A biting and bitter laugh came out of your lips as your eyes glistened.

"What?"

"Get rid of it. You don't want it, neither do I. Why keeping it?"

"How. That. Happened?"

Your tone was everything but friendly, yet you were restraining in giving a piece of your mind. But his hand reached for your arm and pulled you, more like dragged you to a more secluded space, away from prying eyes.

"Let me go!" With a shove and a slap away of his hand, you freed yourself.

With a deep breath, a hulking figure loomed over you with a glare. How dared you in hindering his plans?

"Listen to me very carefully, if you tell anyone about this-"

"Are you seriously threatening me?"

"You don't understand." Venom and vitriol spilled through clenched teeth. His hands were trying to decide which place was better to anchor itself from, clenching them only fueled his anger, and pacing around wasn't helping either.

"You are the one that seems to not be understanding. I'm not asking, I want to know how this happened, Miguel!"

That was definitely a way he hated hearing his name. So full of anger and demand. Just like Dana.

"It's your fault." He couldn't help but muster, more to himself than to you, "How... How couldn't you notice this?" Voice betraying the grittiness in his demeanor for a second.

"My fault?!" glossy eyes in anger widened as he kept spilling his accusations. "Must I remind you what happened that night? We fucked. In bathroom stall."

"For all I know that... thing isn't even mine, and you just-"

"Just what?! Try to put the blame on you?! Bold of you to think I have the time in whoring around like you do!"

His nose flared, relieving the brewing and piping hot steam.

"You can't... you can't do this to me, I can't do this." His hands clenched in his lab coat pockets. Then they rubbed his face.

"You think this is easy for me?!"

"I have a career."

He seethed and you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. His eyes followed you, settled to make an intimidating tactic you seemed temporsr immune to.

"So do I."

He scoffed at your words while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No you don't. Not like I do."

"I'm not even asking you for anything but the truth. What happened? You're the only person I've hooked up with."

"Yeah, could fucking tell." He took a little check book and scribbled some things on it. Then put it right next to you, in the car's hood.

"I don't know how much you'll need, but get rid of it. The sooner, the better."

You heart stopped for a second as a flurry of emotions crossed your face.

You weren't one for fearing or hating monsters, but this one before you, made you shiver and recoil with something so damn familiar it instantly got you lunging for him, ready to make for his face.

He caught your hand before you could actually slap him with the freshly written check. Grip tightening, yet you were too angry and hormonal to care about the pain. Hot and angry tears were no match for his careless and cold stare. He seized you once more before letting you go, nearly shoving you out of his way.

He wasn't moved by your silent crying, either angry or sad, he just watched you with a gaze that would be translated into an 'Are you done?'

You weren't. But defeat had been pulling out all trace of energy that remained on you. No matter how many times you asked, he avoided the question and he just proved he didn't have any intentions of giving you one, or anything of the sort.

He clearly didn't want anything to do with you or the child accidentally conceived.

"What are you doing, Miguel?"

But he knew what happened. The condom had broke, expiration date had been one of the reasons it ripped. He knew he had to change it. But his mind was on the tip of his dick. Awaiting to attack your snug insides again.

Wiping the little dignity you had in your eyes, your shaking hands were about to reach for the papers on the floor when you saw a pair of cream colored heels, that carried the beautiful woman you were dying to set free from the maws of lying and cheating monster.

Dana's perturbed voice echoed through the open space and then evolved into an acute ringing in your ears, muffling her voice for a minute before you rushed to the nearest trash bin to empty the bile that had rose during the fight.

A clear Stop it, from your body.

Both Dana and Miguel watched you, doubling over the bin and holding your hair to prevent a further mess. Incredulity and horror struck them both. Miguel specially.

Stress made the sensations and pregnancy affairs a hundred times worse.

"Dana..." Miguel warned, but his fiancé was way too gone into staring you retch, recognizing a little piece of what had been happening. She had arrived when Miguel was writing you the check hearing more than enough.

"Let's go home, corazón."

Miguel spoke but Dana's eyes darted to the papers on the floor along the written check. Legs moving to where they were and picked them up.

Ultrasound pictures, some medical prescriptions and the most important thing, your diagnose. After this weekend passed, you'd be turning ten weeks.

You were too busy to notice the brunette's hand trembling and covering her mouth as she kept on reading.

"Dana-"

The click of her heels and firm slap echoed through, making your attention to go back to them. Miguel was looking to the floor, a flushed cheek with his fiancé's hand, and the woman herself looking like she was about to commit murder and he the next victim.

"Liar!"

You could only look away at the raw and ugly pain behind those words. He had fooled her enough. Dana did what you couldn't, a tiny solace to your bleeding soul.

"How could you?!" A quiet sob before the brunette turned to you, air trapped in your lungs as she prowled over you. Cheeks ready to receive the impact, but this never came, at least not right away.

"Dana, wait!"

"You whore!" Miguel grabbed her last second but she only thrashed in his arms, struggling to let go, trying with all her might in freeing herself from the monster's claws.

"I didn't know he was engaged! I'm sorry!"

Words kept flowing between broken sobs and sour mouth. Miguel looked like considering letting her go so you could have a taste from her wrath, but seeing you ready to take the hit made the urge to go away, infuriating him even more.

So righteous.

"Don't bullshit me, you slut!"

"He wasn't wearing a ring when I met him! How was I supposed to know?!"

That phrase alone made Dana to remain still. Her heart visibly breaking in tiny shards, so small they could be blown away with the wind. Fat tears rolled down her trembling cheeks. Miguel could glare even more to you if possible. He didn't know what pissed him the most that you were ready to face the consequences or the fact that you were spilling everything out.

"H-He wasn't?"

If the circumstances were different, you'd wrap her arms around her to prevent her breaking even more. But the only thing you managed to do was to admit everything. Sacrificial lamb ready to be slaughtered, unafraid of death.

"He wasn't."

As Miguel lowered his grip Dana came for you, holding you by the lapels of your blazer. Her dainty fingers wrinkling the fabric impossibly tight under her grip. Some of her nails dug on your skin. She trembled, eyes unwavering over your steadfast ones.

"I'm so sorry... If I had known that... he was engaged I would never have approached."

"For how long have you been doing this? Answer me!"

She pleaded. Unlike Miguel, you were providing with answers that only put the remains of her broken and stepped on heart on a shredder, but the more you talked, the more the weight on them was lifted off your shoulders.

"It was one time-"

"Where?"

"In... in the Alchemax Retirement party. I'm so sorry, miss, I had no i-"

Your words were cut short by another slap. She sting spreading through your right cheek.

"Get out of my sight" Dana shoved the papers back into your hands and pushed you away from her, "Get out!".

Your legs scrambled you away, you could hear a metallic sound clinking on the floor, Dana had removed her ring and threw it at Miguel, only to bounce off the floor. Miguel could only watch the expensive relic getting soiled at his feet.

"Say something!"

She wasn't ordering, but pleading to have answers. You knew she'd get none, since you didn't have yours.

Car keys fumbled in your hands, you needed to get out before anything else happened. Miguel’s eyes burning into you, they stalked your every movements and expressions.

But you had laid bare before the both and took the punishment like a champ. The car's engine purred, drowning out the sound out. You could see Dana speaking in an accusing manner as Miguel tried to get a hold on her. As much as you were a homewrecker now, you could sleep a little better knowing that you had saved her from getting married to a man like Miguel.

The latter proved to be cornered, but he didn't lash out. And that only sent a new wave of anxiety to wash over you. What he was planning? The check was scrounged up like your medical data.

His penmanship a tad sloppy, but the traces looked almost like he was intending to tear through the paper. You drove off, watching them both from aside. Miguel's eyes locked with yours once more.

You stared at danger itself in the face, but you weren't afraid anymore.

You drove away. Forced to escape the aftermath.

MJ held your hand as you both made your way inside a bigger center, shielding you away from some religious protesters outside the building.

Just as your words had forseen, his reaction had only made your previous resolution to ground even more.

Mind set in getting your old life back. Even if it was dull, boring and full of so many average moments, you wanted it back.

You wanted to go out drinking, dance till your feet hurt, instead of hurting for the many times you went to the bathroom. You needed to feel normal, annoyed even whenever your boss caught you slacking for something you could control and not because a pregnancy.

But more importantly, you wanted to feel normal again. The same as usual, underpaid receptionist that was another worker in a big multinational company.

Not an underpaid, used, threatened and pregnant with the child of an engaged man that had done nothing but test your patience. This wasn't in your job's description.

And pretty sure, the woman next to you in the women's center wasn't made for comforting either. She cursed at her unborn child in between ugly sobs, saying how much she wished to never have appeared back in that house, wherever it was, to whoever it belonged.

A stark contrast to the woman right before you, looking at her ultrasound images with such joy you'd never had the chance to understand nor wanted to. Too exhausted with your own thoughts to make some Instrospection on your heart's opinion. MJ sat next to you, her warm and soothing hands never left yours.

Half of the room felt red, warm, homey and full of proud future mother's that without a doubt would give their children whatever they deserved. They smiled and shared their stories among eachother, like if they had just won over the lottery. Some even went to the extent of be ecstatic upon each other's ultrasound picture.

And you sat on the blue side. Mothers that didn't want their child over so many different vicissitudes.

Some unable to carry on the pregnancy due the lack of a decent living place, homelessness, Some too young to be there, yet old enough to go under the scrutiny of a doctor to confirm what they already knew. Others with a faulty body that would be nothing but trouble, it was rare the woman that came in like nothing had happened, ready to resume their old lives, unbothered and emotionally unscathed.

"How much do I must wait to get rid of it?"

The blasé voice murmured behind you, unknowingly of the damage that had resurfaced in your memories, just like Miguel's words.

Get rid of it.

Get rid of her.

It was one of the few phrases the woman that gave birth to you, engraved in your childish brain as she was contained by the turn's lover, avoiding the imminent physical damage to fall upon you.

But what to do, when the most hineous form of impairment had already wounded you?. Crippling you to this very day. It didn't help the foster homes you were taken to after, followed a likely pattern.

Unstable, erratic, hot and cold and so confusing, blurring and tarnishing parenthood's concept too much to make a healthy definition out of it. And as soon as you hit the eighteen's to your little surprise, the system let your hand go.

Get. Rid. Of. Her.

A hard swallow and a shaky breath. sides turned a pale hue of lilac for a moment.

The sooner the better.

You weren't getting rid of the seed growing within you because you hated it. All the opposite. You were being merciful and compassionate. Borderline loving even.

Right?

Your name was called, and everyone's eyes turned to you, some hopeful, a silent plea to keep it, others encouraging, pushing you deeper in the hallway that lead to the surgery room, and others understanding. There was no judging, specially from the blue side. MJ nodded to you, encouraging to keep walking, yet a bit of hesitation remained on them.

With every step you gave, the room came closer, reaching an arm to you, so tempting and inviting to finally grant you what you had been longing for the past days.

Getting rid of it.

Another gulp, but this one was harder to deglute since a solid knot had been tightening in your throat with such force, you were sure you couldn't scream even if your life depended on it.

Like mother, like daughter.

Stomach queasy and oh so dreading to what came next. An open door, tools and equipment ready to be used in your little seed. Brain storming with flashing colors that had you wincing at the plain white light.

The thought alone of resembling in any form of your mother was revolting. Your feet haltered as the doctor ventured herself in. Hands shook, unable to be still, unable to grasp yourself completely. A thick tear rolled down your cheek, then another one followed.

The only thing I regret is not getting an abortion sooner.

A sniffle, your steps approached closer to it. Sterile white filled in with pristine smells. Despite not remembering her face anymore, her voice remained etched on you like a ghost. Leeching on your memories and hindering all possibilities of letting go.

God, I swear. I don't even know what I am paying.

With a trembling jaw and lip, you stepped back.

I was happier, way much happier before you showed up.

Even though the room was open and the doctor called you in, you didn't dare to enter. No matter how tempting and cozy it seemed inside. Just like your foster homes had been initially. You weren't happy to be here, a rush of panic made it's way through your legs, stomach and throat. Rising without any forgiveness.

Why won't my baby just die? Why?! Is not that hard, sweetie.

She had said with all the loveless voice someone could muster after you had spilled her pills down the toilet by accident. Cold and unfeeling hands tightening around your ten year old neck, your little pleas unheard. The same rush of panic flooded your senses, freezing any rational thought with it's biting glacial maws. You were in danger.

Let me show you, baby.

You ran. Ran in the direction you had came in, ignoring the doctor's calling you, the unified shocked stares as you crossed the clinic's threshold. MJ trailing behind you with a perturbed look in her face as she called your name. Everything in your body buzzed, but one thing had you folding and crying in an alleyway.

The child's heart.

Beating with such intensity along yours. Uneven at first, but then in a rhythmic and single one. Strong, steady and very much alive. Grateful even.

MJ's voice called you, to then rush to you.

"I'm so sorry... I can't-"

"It's ok." Hands wrapped around you, cradling you with nothing but tenderness and care. She shushed you and attempted to wipe your tears whole you shook your head vehemently.

You couldn't. You weren't brave enough yet.

"Do you want to get back inside?"

A little shake of your head. Mary Jane helped you to stand and wrapped her sweater around you, promising you'd be fine. Promising that everything would be alright.

"Let's go home, ok?"

Your hands tightened around your lower belly while guilt flooded your senses. You weren't ready to be a mother, that was much true, but you weren't also ready to make such a life changing decision, yet time was running out.

It wasn't thrilling. Yet, you knew an honest talk awaited once you got home.

And this time, a desicion would be born out of your rational side, not from your feelings and fucked up memories.

Your heart however, had turned a shade lighter of lilac, borderline pink.

----

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weissaddams · 1 year

Text

Date With Death

Chapter 8

A sneak attack.

Wednesday’s fingers went to the spot Enid kissed. Surely, life was mocking her with all this affection a few hours before death kissed her as well.

Enid was giggling into her hand as she continued to change the lock screen.

“I finally managed to surprise you this month, Wends! Oh, I’m definitely sending a copy to myself so I can print it.”

It had become a monthly ritual for the two–Enid trying to surprise or sneak up on Wednesday. The successful attempts being few and far in between made the victories all the more sweet for Enid. Not many people could claim they had successfully sneaked up on Wednesday Addams, alive and unscathed.

“Your stealth has certainly improved, Enid.”

“I learned from the best!”

Enid proudly held up Wednesday’s phone, now displaying the new lock screen.

Wednesday didn’t think it was possible to fall in love even more, but here she was, heart about to burst with affection as Enid flashed her a smile. A smile that would be wiped away when the news of her passing reaches the werewolf.

Wednesday closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. This was not the time to be pitying herself or Enid. They didn’t have many hours left together. She was going to make the most of it.

“Is something wrong, Wednesday? Do you not like the photo? I can change it back!”

“No, Enid. It is a... good photo. No need to change it back.”

The slightly panicked look on Enid’s face quickly changed to suspicion.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

Enid tilted her head and stared at Wednesday for a few more seconds before sighing and handing her back her phone.

“Good. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You have not done that in many years.”

Many, many years. Enid always put her comfort first. Physical touch was a privilege given to the werewolf and the werewolf alone. It was a universal law at this point.

Wednesday glanced at her new lock screen. It really was a good photo. Noting the time, it looked like they had a few more hours before the ceremony started. Everyone was prepared, so to speak. The sun was out, bright and warm. All good omens for the coming wedding.

Enid was looking fondly at her bridesmaids when Wednesday’s question caught her attention.

“Enid, was there anything you wanted to do before the ceremony?”

Was there? No one had really asked her about anything other than the wedding for the longest time. Well, no one but Wednesday.

Their weekly brunches were like a breath of fresh air for the blonde. Wednesday turning down a bridesmaid spot had turned into a silver lining. She still had someone to talk to who wasn’t always concerned with which flowers they’d buy or what cake flavor they’d get or what color Ajax’s tux should be.

The raven knew when to talk to her about anything but the wedding and when they did have to talk about the planning, looking for a venue, choosing flowers, tasting cakes, looking for the best orchestra (because of course they needed live music), Wednesday kept her steady through it all.

Was there anything she wanted to do? Was there?

“In case you wanted to flee at any moment, I ensured my vehicle’s petrol tank was filled. There are also fake documents, untraceable credit cards and cash in the glove compartment if you wish to hide from your family for an indefinite amount of time.”

Enid started giggling. Giggling turned into laughing and laughing made her teary eyed with joy. Of course Wednesday would prepare for just about everything. Even her running away! She laughed a little more when Wednesday pretended to give her a confused look before she smiled amusedly.

“Did you really prepare all that stuff?”

“Of course, I have prepared for every scenario.”

“Will you be running away with me?” She teased, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the raven’s shoulder. Enid thinks helping a runaway bride is very on-brand for her best friend.

“If you so wished.”

“Where would we go?”

“I have always wanted to travel to Chernobyl, but knowing you, we would most likely end up in Osaka to look at the cherry blossoms you claim to love.”

Osaka didn’t sound bad at all. Enid sighed wistfully. She hoped Wednesday would always be a part of her life.

“Hey, Wends?”

“Yes?”

“I really hope things won’t change between us after I get married. Like, I know I can be a lot but don't get tired of me, alright?”

Ah. If only she had more than hours to prove to Enid how she could never get tired of her.

“I can’t promise things won’t change, but I hope for that as well, Enid. I will be your friend for as long as I walk this earth.” It surprised even Wednesday how she was able to keep herself from spewing out the truth about how she felt and what would eventually happen in that moment.

It was for the best.

Enid was content with that. Cryptic? Sure. That's how she knew Wednesday was being truthful.

Enid was content as long as she stayed in Wednesday’s life. She knew she could never be anything more. She was Wednesday’s first real friend, of course she’d be treated better. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Ajax, but she couldn’t help but wonder how all this would’ve gone if she’d confessed to Wednesday before Ajax came back into her life.

Maybe in another life they were together. More than best friends. Lovers?

She’d have to settle for friendship in this life. Afraid to ever push Wednesday for anything more lest that push her away totally.

“Did you have something you wanted to do before I got married?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to use your family as target practice.”

“ Wednesday. ”

“I jest. I am quite content just spending time with you. I suspect we won't have many chances to talk after today. If you desire anything else, I will obtain it for you.”

Enid’s eyes widened slightly. That was all? To talk to her?

“Did you have something important you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, I should inform you that I gave Ajax the so-called ‘shovel’ talk.”

“How did that go?” The blonde could feel a smile coming to her face. Honestly, she's surprised Wednesday didn't show up with an actual shovel in hand.

“You will be happy to know that he seems to think very highly of you.”

“I sure hope so. We are getting married, after all.”

“He even offered to fight me in exchange for my blessing.”

Enid is even more surprised at that. She didn't think Ajax would go that far. They would definitely need to talk about his self-preservation skills after all this. No one sane would challenge Wednesday Addams, after all.

"Wow," was all Enid could say.

"I was also mildly surprised. It is good to know you're not marrying a coward, Enid."

Giggles spill out of Enid again at Wednesday’s very Addams observation. She's pretty sure this is the first time Ajax has ever actually impressed her best friend. Better late than never?

“Did you threaten him?”

“Only in the end. I was operating under the assumption that he knew his life would be in peril were he to even think of hurting you.”

Enid chortled. It wouldn’t be Wednesday if she didn’t threaten Ajax, after all. Even if she was impressed.

“Enid?”

“Yeah?”

“It should go without saying that if anything were to happen, my family will take care of you. Please don’t ever forget that.”

Wednesday seemed to be very candy with physical touch today. Her hand was cool above Enid’s as the raven squeezed it to emphasize her point.

Enid was sure Wednesday would go on a rampage if she found out anyone had messed with her. She’d done so many times in the last few years. All totally legal rampages, of course, or so she’d been assured by Gomez.

“Thank you, Wednesday.”

Enid flipped over her hand to reciprocate Wednesday’s hold before squeezing tightly.

No matter what, Enid knew Wednesday would be there for her, and the girl has never given her a reason to think otherwise.

Date With Death master post

Hi! Can you tell I’m trying to delay the wedding?

I don’t think this chapter has that much angst but let’s call it the calm after the storm.

Also, I will reply to the comments soon! Sorry I haven’t gotten around to all of them yet.

Haven’t reread so apologies for any errors!

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #wenclair wedding?#wenclair fanfic #wenclair angst #addams #sinclair

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