"What happened next, Uncle Fester?" Pugsley asked enthusiastically as he balanced precariously on his Uncle's knee whilst trying at the same time to set fire to Wednesday's plaits. It was now long past midnight, and the whole family had returned home – Mama, the children and Lurch had slept through the whole ordeal, and were now gathered in the family room with Fester, Morticia and Gomez, listening with rapt attention at the story Fester told. He had been terribly hard on himself throughout the retelling, but the Addams were a good sort, and they gently reassured him. Morticia and Gomez were curled up together on their sofa, Gomez particularly reluctant to leave her side for a second. It was several hours later, and his heart had yet to return to its normal rhythm, so great had his ordeal been.

"Very strange pictures in my head, I started to remember..." Fester tried to explain to his family how the memories of his youth had began to seep back into his consciousness, bought about in the end by the passionate utterances from Gomez. As his brother had spoken of his darling wife and his desire to protect her from harm, Fester had remembered the first time he had heard of this bewitching creature who was soon to be his sister-in-law. Gomez had returned to Balthazar's funeral mass after a good hour's absence, and sought out Fester. Unable to stop grinning, Gomez had pulled Morticia to his side and introduced her as his betrothed. From that moment on, Fester lived vicariously through the intense and all-consuming love story that played out in his very own home. He had been deliriously happy for his brother, but after a time had come to crave that kind of love and passion for himself. It had been just within his grasp, when the Amour Twins had been swept off their feet by Gomez instead.

As Fester relayed his memories to his family, Morticia gently kissed Gomez's cheek, well aware that any mentions of his chasing Fester away all those years ago still caused him pain. Fester noticed his brother's discomfort, and hoisted Pugsley to his shoulder in order to stride across the room and shake Gomez's hand.

"Water under the bridge," Fester grinned, placing Pugsley on the floor.

"My own dear brother!" Gomez exclaimed. "Children, promise me this. You will never let anything come between you as siblings. Family is too important."

"Yes Father," chorused the Addams' kids, Wednesday calmly smothering the flames dancing along one of her pigtails whilst her brother simultaneously lit the other on fire.

"But how did you get back to the library? And the shots..." Mama interjected, calling Wednesday to her side as she produced a knife and swiftly cut the burnt ends of hair away, before re-braiding them.

"I climbed up the slide," Fester confessed, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the huge effort he had put in to clambering up the winding helter skelter and back through the bookcase, now that he knew there had been a far more simple way of returning. But if he hadn't, who knows what may have happened.

"Pinderschloss and Tully were quite pleased to see me; I suppose they thought I had returned with the gold," Fester continued. "They were warming up pokers on the fire, and the gun was on the table near Tish..."

At the mere suggestion of this, Gomez bristled with anger and tightened his grip on his wife, who merely indulged his reactions with a smile.

"I think by then I had fully come to my senses. Everything was like a silent movie in my head; being lost in the Triangle, Pinderschloss finding me – or Abigail as she really was. Her moulding me into her son, the trickery, the deceit… nearly making me betray my own dear family. I fired two warning shots at them and being the cowards they were, they ran."

"Straight into our trap!" Pugsley chimed in proudly. He and Wednesday had diligently dug graves for the pair, and had stood by patiently as Pinderschloss and Tully had fallen headlong six feet under. Wednesday had instructed her brother, and together they had filled in the graves in silence.

"Mother and Father are very proud of you both," Morticia reassured her children, grateful for their part in the story.

"But Tisha..." Mama pressed, keen to hear the end of the tale. She had heard Gomez's cries of despair from the other end of the house, and had grown cold at the sound. By the time she had made it to the library, she had been overjoyed to see her daughter alive and well, albeit somewhat occupied with her husband.

"That's uh, that's my bad," Fester grinned apologetically at Morticia. "That second bullet bounced off the shield on the wall and hit Tish in the side. I couldn't see any blood, but I think she was just winded and bruised for the moment. I-I helped her down and was about to call for Mama when Gomez came in..."

"It will take more than a poxy scratch from a bullet to stop Mother," Wednesday spoke up from her usual position under the chair by the fire.

"True," said Gomez, his fingers gently tracing over the red mark left on his wife's side. He had originally been furious that her perfect skin had been marked by anyone but him, but that quickly changed to mere gratitude that it hadn't all ended differently.

These last few hours, days even, had been a living nightmare for Gomez, and not the good kind. But now, returned to his rightful place in his dear home, with his family surrounding him and most importantly his Morticia in his arms… what more could he ask?