A/N: Hi all, this is my first attempt at fanfiction since 2009, so please give me advice, criticism, whatever, I'll accept it all gratefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Addams Family.
We Taught Her To Hunt
The young girl was cruelly awakened on the morning of her fourth birthday by a harsh light as her mother entered the room. Little Wednesday looked up at the clock on her mantle piece, then to her mother,
"Mother," she murmured, "what's going on? It's too early."
"Darling," replied Morticia as she retrieved a dress from her daughter's wardrobe, "Happy Birthday, now, your father and I are taking you on a hunting trip."
Too tired to comprehend what her mother was saying, Wednesday merely nodded. She groggily obliged as her mother lifted her arms to help her get dressed. Once she was ready, Morticia led the girl by the hand out of the room, down the stairs and into the foyer, where her father was waiting for them.
"Happy Birthday Paloma," he smiled broadly at his young daughter.
She stared up at him through half-closed eyes, "Morning father, what is going on?"
"Why, Paloma, today is your fourth birthday! As an Addams, this means that your parents take you on your first hunting trip," replied Gomez.
Wednesday perked up immediately upon hearing this, "Do I get to kill anything?"
"Not today Wednesday," replied Morticia, "today, you learn the basics, we'll get to the killing."
"Damn," the girl pouted.
"Wednesday, mind your language," scolded Morticia, "you can't speak to us like that, at least not until you're older."
"Sorry Mother," the girl deadpanned, clearly not sorry.
Gomez took his daughter's hand, "Come Paloma."
The small family left their forboding mansion and walked into the heavily treed area in which they lived.
The Addams family soon found itself crouching down on a dirt path in Central Park. Gomez was instructing his daughter in the art of tracking.
".. a very important part of hunting, Paloma, is tracking."
"Yes," the matriarch continued, "without tracking we would never find anything to hunt."
Wednesday nodded, pretending she understood all of this, but in all honesty was just too tired.
Eventually the young family had managed to track down a rabbit, it was snacking on some grass, near the entrance to the park.
"Now Wednesday, normally, we wouldn't track anything this far into the park, as there are often many people around," explained Morticia.
"But since this is your first hunting trip, we're making an exception," finished Gomez.
"Do I get to kill it now?" the girl asked, impatiently.
Morticia and Gomez shared a look with each other, trying to decide whether or not they should risk their daughter firing an arrow near the entrance of Central Park. However it was early, so they decided it would be worth it to see their daughter happy on her birthday.
"Of course Darling," replied Morticia.
Gomez produced a small package from his hunting bag, "For you Paloma, happy birthday."
Wednesday enthusiastically took the brown paper package from her father and tore it open, throwing the paper in a ball behind her.
Inside was a small, Wednesday sized, bow with a quiver containing five arrows.
"Go ahead, Paloma."
Wednesday loaded a small arrow onto the string. She stretched her arm in front of her, clasping the bow in her non-dominant hand, and pulled the string back to her cheek.
She felt her father gently lower her elbow so that it was straight. Thinking for a moment in attempt to aim, she shot the arrow.
It missed the rabbit.
By quite a lot.
Gomez and Morticia shared another look, "She shoots like Fester," said Morticia.
"Perhaps we should practise a bit tonight, Paloma," said Gomez, looking at his daughter.
He noticed that Wednesday had her small hand on her cheek, looking a bit more than slightly upset.
"Morticia," he said.
His wife turned to look at their daughter, "Oh dear."
She walked to the girl and crouched beside her, gently coaxing her to remove her hand.
When she did, the mother saw that the girl's hand was coated in a layer of rich, red blood.
Gomez took the her hand and wiped it with a handkerchief from his pocket while his wife examined Wednesday's cheek.
"It's just a small cut," murmured the matriarch, "you just had the arrow too close to your cheek, that's probably why you missed the rabbit too darling."
Wednesday nodded, she had her bottom lip caught in her teeth, preventing herself from crying out.
Addams don't cry she thought to herself.
Gomez lifted her into his arms as Morticia pressed his bloodied handkerchief into their daughter's hand, "Hold that on your cheek Wednesday, it'll slow down the bleeding."
The small family walked solemnly back to their house in the depths of Central Park.
When they arrived at the house Morticia rung the door bell, a large foghorn sounded and the door was promptly opened by their butler, Lurch.
He stepped aside to let them in, a look of concern crossed his face as he saw the bloodied handkerchief in the four year old's hand.
"Mmmurgh," he mumbled.
"She's okay, just caught the arrow on her cheek," said Morticia, as she followed her husband into their living room.
Gomez placed the girl down on a lounge.
The parents could both see that their daughter still looked a bit panicked. Morticia ran her hand over Wednesday's fore head as she walked past her and into the next room. When she returned her arms were laden with birthday presents for the girl.
"Happy Birthday darling," she smiled as she placed the presents down on the floor in front Wednesday.
Wednesday sat up and removed the bloodied cloth from her cheek, Morticia could see that the bleeding had stopped. She picked the handkerchief up from the cushion beside Wednesday and passed it to Lurch, who left the room momentarily while he disposed of it, returning with a poorly wrapped gift of his own to give to the girl.
"I want to open Lurch's present first," Wednesday demanded.
The family obliged and the tall butler bent down so his head was levelled with Wednesday's, he murmured something which could only be interpreted by the family as "Happy Birthday."
Inside the paper was a small glass container, encasing two large spiders.
Wednesday instantly grabbed the butler by the neck engulfing him in a hug, "Thank you Lurch," she cried enthusiastically.
The remainder of the presents were unwrapped, most of which were dolls, as well as a small guillotine ("an accessory every doll should come with", Morticia quipped).
"And time, now, Wednesday for your last present," Gomez announced, grasping his wife's hand.
"Bubele," Morticia murmured under her breath at the gesture.
"What is it?" demanded the four year old.
The parents looked at each other, "You're going to get a baby brother or sister in eight months time," Morticia said with a smile.
There was a pause.
"Wednesday, what do you think?" asked her father.
The girl held up a small finger, indicating for her father to wait.
She thought a bit longer, then looked up at her parents.
"Okay, but you'll have to teach me to aim before they get here."