Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to Charles Addams and Paramont
A/N: This is just an idea I had one day. I hope you like it. It certainly isn't my best writing but don't think it's my worst either. Anyway, I'll let you read it now, enjoy! One-Shot
For the first time in too many years to count Morticia laid down to go to bed, alone. This wasn't like the few and far between fights her and Gomez had had throughout the years. With those she had always known it would get better and he would come back to her in the morning and they would share the bed that night. No, she couldn't even fool herself, she knew he was gone by the longing her soul and the emptiness of her heart. How could something so empty weight so much? She wished she could take one of the many butcher knives and just cut the thing out of her chest and toss it on the ground; leave it there to gasp for air and starve to death. The massive bed the two of them had shared for so many years felt empty and cold; Morticia longed for his touch just one last time.
A silent tear rolled down her cheek, a tear that she had been holding back since she had learned of his death hours ago. It had been hours before that since they had last danced together, oh, how she missed him! A sob managed to make its way around the lump in her throat though she didn't know how, considering it felt to be about the size of a bat. She didn't know when or how but she must have cried herself to sleep because the next thing she knew, she could feel his warm lips working their way up her arm from her fingertips to her elbow. Now the inside and on up to her shoulder, it couldn't be real, could it? No, she had just lost him… "Oh, Gomez!" she cried out, "Why?!"
She awoke with a start – her throat was raw, probably from screaming – reaching for him like she had so many other times, only to find the bed empty and she remembered: her Gomez, her Querido, her mon cher… he was gone. Gone forever – he had left her behind in this world so he could live in the next.
She was startled by a sudden rough shake of the bed, it was vibrating so hard she almost fell off only to wake up encompassed by strong, masculine arms and find a scratchy mustache nestled into the place between her neck and shoulder. For a moment she thought she had died and gone where ever people go when they die, and then she thought she was dreaming again…
But when that scratchy mustache started moving and the arms held her tighter as she cried out for him she knew: it was real! Her Gomez was still alive! He was well and breathing and… "Oh, Gomez!" she exclaimed, turning to wrap her own arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her, for fear that if she didn't hold on tight her nightmare would come true.
"Would you like to talk about it, Querida?" he asked, moving away and leaning against the large headboard, pulling her into his lap when he was comfortable and holding her tightly. She leaned her head back against his muscular chest with a shaky sigh and reached up to hold onto him, wanting the familiar comfort of mere contact with his skin.
"It was awful, mon cher…" Gomez grasped one of her hands and lifted it to his lips, leaving a trail of kisses to her shoulder from her fingertips, after he had finished she continued. "You had died and I was left alone in this amazingly large mattress, only in my dream it wasn't amazing, it was terrible! And it was so real, Gomez! I don't know what I would ever do without you, Mon Ami," she finished with a sob and Gomez was so troubled by the distress his beautiful wife was exhibiting that he didn't really even hear the French she spoke.
"I will never leave you to face this frighteningly large bed alone, Querida, not even once I die. I will come visit you every night, whether it be physically or in your dreams, I will never leave you. You have my word. Death will not be able to part us. He'd have to rip you piece by piece from my cold, dead fingers and even then, he'll never be able to dig the fangs from your snake of a heart out of the blood pump resting in my chest. I am yours forever; so you'll just have to tell your dreams to get used to it… or we'll have to find better ways to keep them at bay…" Gomez's sentence trailed off as a devilish grin found its way to his lips. His mustache brushed teasingly over her ear and she rolled over so she was sitting on top of him. She pressed her mouth to his and giggled when he rolled on top of her.
Between deep breaths and kisses Morticia managed to find the only words that described her feelings for this man, "Je t'aime, Mon Amour," she said as a smile graced her features and he began to pull the shoulders of her nightgown down. He let out a low growl that was deliciously animalistic, reaching for the hem at the bottom of her dress.
His body ground against hers and she moaned as she reached up to the nails they kept above the bed. His lips started to wander from hers, exploring the skin along her neck, his mustache tickling her exposed flesh. She grasped the first thing her fingers came into contact with: a whip. 'This should be fun…'
Hope you liked it, like I said: not my worst, but certainly not my best. Please review!