Chapter 21
If he cared about being poetic he would describe it as eerie. Actually, there were quite a few words that would describe his current situation but Jared Diamond decided a total and utter fuck up suited it best. Less poetic than eerie but certainly entirely accurate.
After the rush of adrenaline subdued, it was immediately replaced with a surge of panic. His mind was suddenly sharp clear, without a trace of alcoholic haze - as if the drink never touched his lips. The whole disaster of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.
What has he done? Jesus Christ, what has he done? How could he let himself go so disastrously out of control? Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What is he going to do now?
He should at least take her to the hospital. How could he not take her to a fucking hospital? God, he just stared at her and knew, he knew, that if she died there he wouldn't give a single damn about it.
At the time. Not now. He didn't want her to hurt her, not really. He wanted -
Ugh, God damn it...he was just so angry, so insanely angry at her and he couldn't stop. She's ruined everything. Everything. Her and that bloody Castillian lothario.
How did he fucking do that? How did he manage to just wrap Morticia around his little finger like that or was she really just so fucking stupid?
It didn't matter now, anyway. He wasn't fooling himself to pretend it wasn't all lost. What were the chances of Francios marrying a woman who was openly whoring with another man? None.
Stupid, stupid whore. What did she think will happen when Addams gets bored with her? What will she do? Did she think she will be able to just say sorry I was young and stupid and all will be forgiven?
Oh, fuck, what did he care? He had a bigger problem at hand. Much bigger.
What will Ophelia do when she finds out? There was no way he could explain himself and she will not let it pass, not after what he's done to her sister. If she was furious last time he hit Morticia then this time was a thousand times worse. This was an utter disaster. Will she believe him if he told her that Morticia provoked him? It wasn't a lie, after all - technically.
If only Morticia shut her damn mouth when he's told her to he wouldn't get so furious. He was sure he wouldn't get so furious.
Ophelia must understand that he was deliberately provoked. He would never go this far if Morticia didn't provoke him - if she didn't throw all those vicious words in his face, if she didn't blatantly disrespect him, if she didn't destroy everything.
If a man talked to him the way she did, nobody would bat an eyelid if he beat the hell out of him. Her.
What kind of idiot was she to stand up to a man that was at least twice her size, anyway? He could easily break that impertinent woman in half and yet she stupidly goaded him until he lost all control.
It was her fault. Everything was her bloody fault.
But will Ophelia see it that way? Maybe. If he just presented it in the right way. If he explained that he didn't mean it but...but the man can only stand so much and… she knew that her sister had it coming over the years - no, that's not the right way, he can't say it like that, it sounds crazy.
Would his wife leave him because of that little whore?
No. No, he won't let that happen.
If need be, he would apologise. He would say all the right words, he would make all sorts of promises. Anything she wants. He will beg but he won't lose her. He will not lose his family.
They were everything to him.
"Where the hell have you been?"
Funny, he didn't even remember walking back home.
"Where is she?" he asked when he realized his mother was the only person in the house.
"In the hospital," she snapped at him. "Where else?"
"Why are you not with her, then?" he asked and wrinkled his nose in disdain."What the hell is this smell?"
"Bleach," his mother replied, wiping her brow and only then he noticed the rubber gloves and a soapy sponge in her hand. His mother glared at him when he raised his eyebrow in question at her somewhat unusual attire."To clean the blood off," she informed him stiffly and took a deep breath."She's told me to leave."
Jared chuckled despite himself.
"Well, at least that means she's alive," he quipped.
"Have you lost your bloody mind, Jared?" Dorothy hissed, throwing the sponge back into the bowl on the table and, furious at his blase attitude."How could you do this?" she asked, removing the rubber gloves in two swift moves, before dropping them on the coffee table." What came over you, for God's sake, to do something like this?"
Jared shrugged, shifting his gaze towards the sofa where the bloodstains were still visible, faded and pink but, nevertheless, a clear proof of his misconduct.
"She could have died," his mother insisted shakily."You could have killed her, Jared."
He glared at her, suddenly angry at her accusation despite the fact that were, of course, entirely correct.
"It's her fault," he retorted sharply.
"The hell it was -"
"You saw it," he insisted."She provoked me, she -"
"You were drunk and out of control," she pointed out firmly."She was stupid - stupid to argue with a drunken fool but you - " she pointed at him with a slight wave of her hand."You behaved like an animal."
He didn't reply. What was there to say? His gaze shifted involuntarily away, in anger or annoyance or...shame, he couldn't tell.
"What will Ophelia do when she finds out?" Dorothy asked, her tone desperate."How are we going to explain this to her?"
He bit his lips, suddenly the panic was back in his heart.
"I don't know," he whispered hoarsely, looking straight at his mother and watched her posture soften at the desperation in his voice. He made his way towards the bar - out of habit - but then seemed to have thought better of it and went to sit down on the arm of the sofa.
The silence, knowing and ominous, stretched between them, it was clear that both of them didn't know what to do - with themselves or with the situations itself.
"Is she going to report this?" he asked, finally as if the thought just occurred to him.
"I don't think so," his mother replied wearily."I spoke to her," she admitted."I told her what it would do to Ophelia and she… she seemed very reluctant to inform the police," she explained. Well, she wasn't going to recount the whole conversation because she certainly wasn't going to let Jared justify his behaviour - not between the two of them at least. There was no justification for such behaviour in her family - despite what she's told Morticia - she was not going to tolerate it."Jared," she said firmly and waited until her son looked at her."This," she pointed towards the bar."This has to stop."
Jared bit his lips into a thin line and gave her a jaded nod.
"I know."
"Now," she insisted."It has to stop now and don't you dare to be flippant about it," she forewarned sternly. "You have to stop it or you will lose your family, do you understand?"
Another nod.
"What am I going to tell Ophelia, mother?" he asked, desperately and for a second Dorothy thought she had a little boy before her, not a grown man. A little boy with an unshakable conviction that his mother knew best, his mother could fix everything.
"We'll tell her the truth," she stated firmly and watched Jared's eyes widen in disbelief. "More or less."
"I can't tell her the truth," he replied."She'll never forgive me...she won't understand."
Dorothy shook her head tiredly.
"We'll tell her the truth," she said pointedly."That she provoked you."
"Ophelia's not going to believe that."
"She will," Dorothy assured confidently, pointing to his face with the palm of her hand."That black eye she gave you might come in handy," as well as the nail marks on his cheek, she thought.
They can still fix this, she thought with rising confidence. If they are in charge of the narrative, they can still salvage whatever's left of this whole disaster.
Morticia started to wonder if those blasted tears would ever stop falling. She hated how out of control she felt, how upset she was and how those stupid tears just wouldn't stop. Her chest felt so constricted, it almost felt as if she had to physically force herself to draw another breath.
She didn't know how to behave or what to say and her husband seemed to feel the same way. It was awkward. What were they supposed to say in the face of such a situation? What was there to say? She could hardly talk about what happened without her voice breaking and the small talk seemed ridiculous so they didn't even attempt it.
And then there was a mundane task of waiting for her medical results to decide if she was allowed to finally go home.
And nothing to fill the silence with, except -
"I should have listened to you," she finally broke the silence and he immediately looked at her, so startled by her words that he couldn't think of anything to answer her with."I should never have gone there on my own."
"Don't talk like this," he replied hoarsely, wrapping his hands around hers."Don't...make it sound like you're even remotely responsible for any of it."
"It was a stupid thing to do," she insisted, swallowing heavily and she blinked back the tears. Again.
"That bastard had no right to touch you," he retorted firmly.
"I know," she whispered tiredly."It's just... I feel like...it could have been avoided."
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her, gently bringing her closer and placed a tender kiss on her temple.
"Stop it," he pleaded. It was already taking all of his self-control not to go and rip that bastard into shreds. If she started to blame herself he would not be able to stand it."I can't allow you to think like this. Whoever made you think that way, I will make them die a thousand deaths, I swear."
She leaned into him, curling her hand at the back of his neck and sighed wearily.
"I shouldn't think like this, you're right," she admitted."I don't even know why I feel this way...God, I'm going to cry again," she added, exasperated, wiping her eyes with her free hand.
"It's alright," he assured. "Cry if you need to."
"I don't want to," she said faintly."I just can't seem to...stop," she admitted and let out a frustrated sigh."I hate this hospital gown," she added, partly because it was true and partly because she wanted to change the subject...but to what exactly? The dire realities of hospital attires?
"Tish," he whispered." You don't have to act strong, be as vulnerable with me as you need to. If you want to cry then cry, if you want to lash out then do it. I'm always here for you...for everything, querida."
Morticia nodded faintly and pressed her lips gently against his, wincing slightly as the cut on her lip protested against the cares but she ignored it.
"I don't know what to do, Gomez," she admitted."I don't know how to handle it. I didn't want any of it, I didn't want to argue, I didn't want any further conflict and now... it's all shot to hell. Now -"
There was a firm knock to the door and Gomez watched Morticia blink furiously, immediately schooling her features.
"You have a slight concussion," Dr Covey announced entering the room."But I'm willing to release you home if you're adamant you don't want to stay overnight."
"Thank you," Morticia replied and cleared her throat gently."I appreciate it."
"That being said," the doctor continued, turning towards Gomez this time."If you see her acting too confused, having a strong headache, if she vomits again or faints you must bring her back to the emergency room."
"I will," Gomez promised.
"Good," she replied curtly before turning towards Morticia. "You may dress and, after you sign the release form, you're free to go."
"Okay," Morticia nodded faintly. "Thank you."
"I will call home, then," Gomez remarked, squeezing her hand gently. "Tell Elena there's no need to bring anything - "
"Elena's at home?"
"I asked her to get you anything you might need and wait for Mama," he explained.
Morticia winced inadvertently at his words. Suddenly she was all less eager to go home. She didn't want people fussing over her, didn't want their pity. She didn't want them to look at her. Stare. They're going to stare. The very thought of those furtive, pitiful glances was making her agitated.
She flattened her hands against her knees and let out a shaky sigh.
"Alright," she said tiredly as if bracing herself."Fine."
"I'll show you where the phone is," Dr Covey informed him.
"Thank you," he replied before leaning towards Morticia and placing a soft kiss to her temple."Are you all right to dress on your own?"
"Yes," she replied a little too firmly."I'll be fine," she added, in a softer tone.
Gomez nodded and followed Dr Covey outside the room.
"Doctor," he said warily and waited until the woman looked at him. "Are you sure she's all right to go home?"
"Well," the Doctor took a deep breath."Ideally, I would prefer if she stayed overnight for observation but considering how agitated she gets at the idea of staying here, it might be a better idea to take her home," she explained."Just be vigilant, if any doubts just bring her here, better safe than sorry."
"Okay."
She nodded and looked away briefly.
"Mr Addams - "
"Gomez," he insisted.
"Gomez," she repeated with a gentle smile."She might take a while to heal," she warned and watched him nod at her. "I'm not talking merely about the physical aspects."
"Yes," he said." I understand."
"We have an excellent mental health team at the hospital," she explained."They are trained professionals, experienced with the victims of domestic abuse - "
"I don't think this is something Morticia would be willing to do," he admitted tensely.
"No," the woman agreed, looking away briefly."I don't think she would willingly accept such help but…," she licked her lips and compressed them into a thin line in a contemplating manner." It's an option, just in case, just so you're aware."
"I'll keep that in mind," he replied politely, for the lack of anything better to say. Somehow he knew with almost a hundred per cent certainty that his wife wouldn't even consider such help. Most likely she'll insist she's doing perfectly fine and he already dreaded the conversation they were about to have. "How…," he hesitated, looking at Michael's mother intently."How can I help her?"
The older woman smiled at him gently.
"Just be there for her," she advised."That's the most important, and don't let her bottle up the negative feelings, make her talk - if she lashes out on you, just take it, it's nothing personal."
"Yes, I know," he admitted, his lips curling into a small, woeful smile.
"Learnt that the hard way?" she supplied knowingly.
"You could say that," he replied tiredly, sliding his hand against the back of his neck."Can I take her home now?"
"As soon as she signs the release forms."
"Alright."
"Just one more thing," she whispered tentatively and watched him regards her expectantly."I think," she started slowly."It's her brother-in-law who - "
"I know," he interjected sharply.
"She refused to admit it," she revealed.
"What do you mean?" he frowned, trying to make sense of what the woman was telling him.
Dr Covey pursed her lips and sighed uncomfortably.
"I think...I think she doesn't want him to suffer the consequences," she admitted."Whether she's scared or...I don't know, really. I tried to convince her to report this to the police but she wouldn't hear of it. She didn't want me to call her sister either."
Gomez didn't reply but gritted his teeth, trying his utmost to contain his anger. This wasn't the time or a place but that's another discussion they will have to have because if Morticia thinks, even for a split second, that this bastard is getting away with it, he can't even begin to tell her how mistaken she was.
He should have broken his hands the last time he dared to raise his hand on her and he regretted his inaction more than he could put into words but this time...there's simply no way he will let him live to tell the tale.
"I can't believe I have raised such a snivelling coward," Eudora Addams rebuked angrily for what seemed at least a thousandth time in the last half-an-hour.
Fester Addams seemed to shrink under his mother's scolding words as he helped Lurch take the neatly wrapped packages, with all the various items they've acquired at the market, out of the car. Even their butler looked at him with an unbridled pity and that was saying something. Okay, so he chickened out but surely it wasn't a reason to berate him constantly for the whole of the time of their route back home. It's not like he wasn't going to apologise at all after all.
He will.
Tomorrow.
Definitely tomorrow.
"You have to apologise to that girl."
It took all of his will power not to roll his eyes - that, and also he wasn't suicidal idiot because if there was one thing Eudora Addams never tolerated it was her sons rolling eyes at her, both he and Gomez learnt that the hard way. Hard way as his mother's cast iron frying pan - literally.
"Yes, mama, " he remarked obediently, from behind the mountains of brown paper packages nestled in his arms.
"You're only making it worse now," she continued her relentless, turning the doorknob.
"Yes, mama."
"You should at least have enough decency to go there and admit your misdeeds."
"I will!" he assured."It's just the stress got better of me, that's all."
"You should march yourself to her house this minute and - oh!"
"Hi Mrs Addams," Elena greeted giving them a feeble wave of her hand as the trio entered the hall."Fester. Hello Lurch."
"Hello, my dear," Eudora smiled at her."Why on earth are you sitting on the stairs by yourself?" she asked, clearly amused."Isn't Morticia at home?"
"No," she replied uneasily. She stood up slowly, wriggling her hands together."They're on their way, though...Gomez called like... twenty minutes ago."
Eudora frowned and looked at the younger woman warily. It was obvious something was not right. She heard her son place the packages on the floor and she met his equally worried gaze.
"On their way from where?"Eudora asked, slowly.
"The hospital," she whispered.
"I don't understand," Fester interjected."What do you mean they're on their way from the hospital? What happened?"
"Ehm, so...Morticia went to see her sister - "
"Oh God, not that bastard again," Eudora retorted angrily, letting out a frustrated huff."He hit her again, didn't he?"
Elena nodded and then her eyes widened when the older lady let out such a flowery string of profanities she couldn't help but be duly impressed.
"He didn't just hit her, Mrs Addams," she said."He beat her. Badly."
Eudora covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head.
"No," she muttered."He wouldn't dare...he...no - "
"Morticia said he was drunk -"
"That's no excuse," the older woman snapped.
"I know," Elena assured."I'm just telling you what she said."
Eudora nodded at her faintly.
"I'm sorry," she apologised."I didn't mean to...how...you said they're coming home?"
"Yeah," she confirmed."Gomez said she has a slight concussion but they allowed her to go home."
"I'll kill him," Fester hissed."I will blow his brains out."
Eudora placed her palm on his shoulder to calm him. Not that she disagreed with his plan but there were a time and place for everything.
"How is she?" she asked, immediately wincing at the question."How bad is it?" she corrected herself.
"Bad," Elena admitted."She's… it's bad," she repeated."Her face is really bruised," she revealed and waved vaguely, swallowing heavily."She's quite shaken by the whole thing. I don't think...I don't think she knows how to handle it."
Eudora nodded somberly and turned to her son who was looking like he was ready to blow up the whole world.
"Take the shopping to the kitchen, please," she requested and he looked at her dumbfounded as if she's spoken to him in a foreign language but before he could voice any protests she raised her open palm."You're not going anywhere and you're not blowing anyone's brains out."
"The hell I'm not," he growled at her."They will be scooping up his remains from the walls."
"No," his mother insisted.
"Mama, you can't be serious!"
"We'll do nothing until they get here," she insisted."First, we look after Morticia - "
"What else am I doing?" Fester raged."I'm looking after her. I will bring her his eyeballs in the jar as a souvenir."
Elena allowed a cautious smile to grace her lips. If Dementia won't marry Fester one day, then she was sure she'll gladly will.
Ophelia tapped her fingers against the smooth surface of the table impatiently. How long was it? Dorothy has been gone for hours now. How long could this talk with Jared take? Surely not that long.
"Mama, look!"
What could go wrong, though? Even if Jared got furious, which he undoubtedly did, what could he do, barge into the Addams mansion? No way in hell.
"Mamaaaa," the exasperated little voice reached through her musings and she turned towards her son who was now sporting quite an annoyed frown.
"I'm sorry, baby," she smiled at him indulgently."What is it?"
"Look," the little boy insisted pointing at the ball currently resting in the midst of Dorothy's beloved petunias.
She almost groaned out loud.
"Oh no, darling, why did you do that?"
"Granny no happy," he decided.
"No, she will certainly not be happy," she agreed, picking the ball from the flower bed.
"No happy," Charlie repeated surveying the damage before turning to her with a purposeful look in his eyes."We run home?"
"No way, you little critter," she laughed."You will say big so sorry to grandma."
Her son huffed and wrinkled his nose into an unhappy frown.
"I don't like so sorry," he announced, crossing his arms against his middle defiantly."Mama say sorry, okay?"
"Mr Charlie Diamond will say sorry," she insisted with an amused grin.
"No," he shook his head.
"Yes."
"Ball say sorry."
"You will say sorry, mister, and that's that," she insisted, tapping his little nose with her fingertip.
The little boy glared at her and slumped his shoulder, sighing heavily.
"I'm not happy," he muttered under his nose before exclaiming happily."Daddy!"
She turned abruptly and couldn't help but gasp.
"Hey, buddy," Jareds greeted happily, picking the little boy in his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
"What happened?" Ophelia asked.
"I didn't do it, daddy," Charlie assured."The ball did it."
"Your sister came home," Dorothy explained, coming from behind Jared.
"Daddy hurt?" the little boy asked worriedly, noticing the bruise under Jared's eye.
"It's okay," Jared smiled at him.
Charlie leaned and placed a loud kiss under his eye and his scratched cheek.
"All betta?" he asked hopefully.
"So much better," he assured."Thank you."
"What on earth happened?" Ophelia asked insistently.
"Calm down," Jared tried to appease."I will explain everything," he promised.
"Come on, poppet," Dorothy said gently, extending her arms towards her grandson."Let's go get some ice cream, hmmm?"
"Too much ice cream!" the boy agreed eagerly almost jumping from his father's arms."Grandma, mama broke your flower. They dead now."
Ophelia waited until the pair were safely out of earshot before turning towards her husband. She could feel her stomach churn with apprehension even with the little information she was provided with.
"Jared," she whispered nervously."What happened?"
Her husband sighed tiredly as if completely devoid of any strength and slid his hand through his blond hair self-consciously.
"Morticia came home," he started slowly."She was looking for you, she wanted to speak to you."
"I meant the black eye," she interposed impatiently."And the scratches on your face."
"I'm getting to that," he assured."She came to inform us that she won't be marrying Francois," he informed her and saw her posture immediately slouch and she opened her mouth but he raised his hand in a gesture to allow him to continue."Wait, and you might want to sit down for this."
"Just say it," she almost hissed at him. She hated when he treated her like a child as if she was too sensitive to take in the bad news when the whole past four years seemed to her like a cluster of bad news.
"She's married Gomez Addams," he told her and watched her face immediately contract first with disbelief and then with utter fury. Good God, his mother was a genius. The same information that mere hours ago would cause a fit of rage in him, he was now able to use to his advantage.
"She did what?" she hissed.
Jared nodded at her in confirmation.
"She's told me to look for other business opportunities because she's not marrying Mr Chalon," he continued calmly."Apparently, she's married that Castilian bastard instead and simply came to inform us."
"I can't believe her," she shook her head in denial."This isn't happening."
"She's also had the nerve to admit that all the rumours circulating about her and Addams were true," he said and looked at her intently." And you knew, didn't you? That's why you were so upset," his tone was soft but she could detect the hidden accusation in his voice - also his mother's advice.
She sighed tiredly and bit her lips, nodding at him in confirmation.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, linking her hands together in a helpless gesture."I didn't know how to tell you," she admitted hoarsely and breathed in a slight relief when he shook his head gently."Did she hit you?"
"She hit me back," he clarified.
"What?"
"She hit me back," he repeated."I got angry and... I slapped her."
She didn't reply but swallowed heavily, looking at him with apprehension.
"Ophelia, I didn't want to hurt her but it's like she's lost her mind, I swear," he started to explain softly, resting his hands at the crook of her elbows."I would never do that to her if she didn't provoke me so."
She frowned gently.
"Do what to her? You mean to slap her?" she asked."Jared - " she prompted anxiously when he didn't reply.
"I've lost control, I admit it," he whispered."I'm so sorry...but I… I just couldn't stand it. Look...the things she said…"
"Oh my God what...did you beat her?" she asked in breathless disbelief."Is that what you're saying?"
He nodded, dropping his gaze before looking at her in a desperate plea for forgiveness.
"Oh God -"
"I'm so sorry," he pleaded."More sorry than I can say...darling - "
"Where is she?" she asked firmly.
"In the hospital," he admitted and heard her exhale sharply.
"In the hospital?" she repeated faintly, disengaging herself from him."Why...oh God," she said quietly, covering her face with her hands. This couldn't be happening.
"I didn't want this to happen," her husband pleaded desperately."If you were there if you saw the way she behaved… the things she said, she provoked me...I told her to shut her mouth but she just kept going on until I just couldn't stand it. I'm so so sorry."
She looked at him then, her gaze guarded and accusatory at the same time.
"What did she say?" she asked with sudden anger and it all of her will power not to lash out on him."What could she possibly have said to make you beat her?"
He swallowed and looked at her uncomfortably.
"She accused me of cheating on you," he admitted and noticed her eyes widen and her jaw tighten with anger and he almost smiled, knowing that her wrath was slowly shifting away from him so he pressed on."She said I'm the worst thing that ever happened to you, that she was glad your father was dead and didn't have to watch what had become of you," well it was a stretch but not necessarily a lie. The main thing was it did exactly what he hoped for because Ophelias' blue eyes shone with such unbridled anger she looked like barely knew what to do with herself.
"I don't believe it," she insisted in a quiet voice.
"I swear it's true," Jared whispered hoarsely."And I just couldn't stand it, do you understand? I tried to make a home for her, we both did and this is how she repaid...by marrying that lowlife."
"How could she have said something like that?" she blurted, her eyes suddenly filling with angry tears. She was perfectly aware of what her sister thought of her marriage but until now at least she kept it to herself. Apparently, the pleasantries were now over and they will start throwing at each other every hurtful word in their repertoires.
God, she cursed the minute Gomez Addams entered their life.
"Maybe she's done it deliberately," her husband muttered feebly." She knew...she knew it would make me mad, she knew it would tear us apart."
Impossible, she thought, impossible, her sister wasn't a malicious creature to do something so vicious and calculated. Even if she meant all those cruel, nasty words. Even if Ophelia herself told her some ridiculous things, to show such blatant disrespect and disregard was unthinkable.
Who was Morticia to judge her marriage anyway? Jared and Dorothy were more of help to her than her sister ever wanted to be. Where would they both be without her husband? What did she think would happen to their mother if it weren't for Jared? Who was Morticia to sit on a high horse and pass judgments over other people's life choices when she was like a paper doll mindlessly throwing herself into the fire?
"Which hospital is she in?" she asked suddenly.
He blinked, taken aback by the question, hell if he knew.
"She told us to get out," he answered instead. Us. His mother. She didn't need the exact details. His wife didn't seem surprised anyway.
"I need to see her," she insisted, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt suddenly cold. "I need to...God...we can't just...I need to see her."
"Her husband is probably with her," he pointed out deliberately. Just as well, the poor bastard has probably realized by now that he's got more than he bargained for by marrying Morticia but it's never too early to make it explicitly clear that they would never accept it. They would never accept him nor his family of kooks.
Ophelia let out a frustrated sigh and it was suddenly all too much. How did it all get so disastrously out of control? What did Jared do to Morticia that made it necessary to take her to the hospital and why...why did her sister behave like this? She knew how short-tempered Jared was … why, why did she do that? Did she really want to destroy her marriage? Now? With another baby on the way?
And for what? For that Castillian whoreson?
Unthinkable.
She felt Jared's arms around her and only then did she realize that her cheeks were wet. She allowed him to draw her into a firm embrace and leaned into him.
It all seemed terribly unfair. Every time something seemed to be finally working they always inevitably crushed against a brick wall.
And now those walls seemed to be closing around her now and there was no way out.
The ride home was awkward and silent. None of them knew what to say, they barely knew where to direct their gaze. A couple of times she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror and had to stop herself from an involuntary gasp. God, she felt so angry she could barely feel anything else.
One word, she thought. One word and he would pay for every single bruise on her body, for every humiliating, helpless moment.
One word, that's all it would take.
Except... it wasn't as simple as that.
It was a small mercy that Michael drove fast and they didn't have to suffer the entrapment of the awkward silence for too long and soon the familiar contours of the Addams mansion greeted them gloomily.
It was a comforting sight despite the knowledge that she will have to face her family and their rueful gaze.
There was an audible, sharp intake of breath from her mother-in-law the moment she's stepped in through the front doors and the exactly pitiful gaze she expected - sort of looking but trying not to see.
Morticia immediately shook her head.
"Don't say anything," she asked them hoarsely."Please...I don't want to talk about it."
Fester flinched uncomfortably but Eudora nodded, swallowing audibly. Her throat felt suddenly so constricted she didn't think she would be able to say anything at all.
Morticia wanted to explain, say that she was tired because she truly felt unbelievably tired, not just physically, she simply didn't have mental energy left for anything. She just couldn't stand all this and the words felt stuck in her throat. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to think.
No, actually she didn't want to think. She wished she could just switch off. Stop thinking, even for a moment.
She barely managed to shoot an apologetic look towards her husband before purposely ascending the stairs.
She could practically feel their worried looks and they followed her all the way towards the bedroom.
"Is there anything I can do?" Elena's unusually soft voice reached him and he tore his gaze from where his wife just disappeared from his sight.
"No," Gomez replied tiredly."I… I don't know, we'll see. We'll keep in touch, okay?"
"Okay," she nodded."Call if...just anything. Anything at all, just call."
"I will," he promised."Thank you."
"Gomez," Michael said warily."You're not really gonna let that son of a bitch get away with it - "
"Of course I'm not going to let him get away with it," he practically scowled."Who the hell do you think I am?"
"I was just making sure…'cause you know… Tish seemed pretty much against - "
"I'll kill him first and ask for forgiveness later," he retorted firmly and then looked upstairs briefly before addressing them in an apologetic manner."Look, I'm sorry but I don't want her to be on her own."
"Go," it was his mother who answered, her voice unnaturally choked." Don't worry about anything else, just go to her."
"Can you put the fire up?" Morticia asked the moment her husband entered their bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, quite undecided what to do with herself. "I'm cold."
"Of course," he nodded and immediately went to throw some old newspapers and a few logs into the empty fireplace and within minutes the bedroom illuminated with warm golden lights from the fire.
Gomez heard her come slowly behind him and then watched her come nearer the fireplace. She simply stood there, arms wrapped around herself and watched the flames flicker vivaciously. Slowly, she reached the back of her dress and started to unbutton her dress before stripping the black material off her body and crunching it in her hands before finally throwing the dress into the fire where it was instantly consumed by angry flames.
He grabbed his burgundy, velvet robe from the chair and wrapped it around her before enveloping her in his arms and was infinitely glad when she leaned into his embrace because he didn't know what else to do, much less what to say. There was nothing he could say. He felt charged with anger and filled with helplessness at the same time. He wanted to do something, anything to fix this. Any action would be better than this utter debilitating helplessness.
Anything to make this right, a catharsis of some sort - anything that conveyed how sorry he was and how guilty he felt over the fact that he failed to protect her, that he'll never forgive himself but he'll make sure he'll never hurt her again.
No one will ever hurt her again.
She will never feel powerless again.
"I love you," he heard himself whisper.
I love you. I love you so much and I'm so sorry.
It felt to him paltry. It felt not enough.
Yet, at this moment, in the semi-darkness of their bedroom, it was all he had to offer.
She hesitated to look properly in the mirror but even in the layer of condensation after her shower, her bruises contrasted vividly against her skin and she knew they looked much worse now than yesterday, especially with her face stripped of any makeup and a sleepless night behind her. Perhaps Eudora had some remedy to aid the healing because she certainly wasn't looking forward to walking around with a bruised face.
She barely managed to close her eyes last night. She felt restless and on edge, unable to shake the sense of dread that seemed to settle in the pit of her stomach. Her mind worked furiously to arrive at any solution to this nightmare and managed to conjure only more helpless despair.
She didn't know what to do. Perhaps, if her sister wasn't expecting a baby it would be easier to navigate it, if only marginally so but still.
She didn't know what to do. She seemed unable to concentrate on anything for long enough to even consider her options because her mind felt like a cluster of disjointed thoughts. If there was a way to resolve it she just couldn't see it.
When she emerged from the bathroom, her husband was back in the room - already immaculately dressed for the day, a silver tray with their breakfast sat at the nightstand next to the bed. She felt instantly incredibly grateful that he decided on having breakfast in the solitude of their bedroom because she didn't think she could handle the company of anyone else but him, yet.
She wasn't hungry at all and her stomach was in knots, she doubted she would be able to swallow anything but perhaps it would be wise to force a few bites.
"I don't mean to spoil the breakfast," she started slowly as she rested on the bed, sliding her leg under her and took the towel off her hair, brushing gently through the wet strands with her fingers."But I guess it's best to get this conversation out of the way."
"Cara mia," he said in a calm tone of finality, crouching down in front of her and gently resting his palms on her knees."He's a dead man walking. No conversation is going to change that."
"Darling," she whispered, linking her hand with his." I know you're angry but this is simply not the way."
"On the contrary," he insisted."It's the only way."
"You're not being reasonable."
He looked at her incredulously.
"I'm not being reasonable?" he repeated in disbelief."What do you want to do, then?"
She expected this question, of course, but it didn't make providing the answer any easier. Especially when she had none to offer.
"I don't know," she admitted shakily."I don't know what to do. I don't want to deal with any of it."
"You don't have to because I'm going to deal with it for you," he retorted firmly, pressing a soft kiss into her knuckles."I'm going to kill him."
"And how is that going to help?"
"One douchebag less in the world wasting oxygen," he answered.
"Gomez," she said softly."Killing him won't change anything. It won't...fix this," she insisted, pointing vaguely to her face."It will only make things worse."
"How?" he snapped."How can it make it any worse?"
"I know you're angry," she repeated, forcing her voice to remain serene."But it's much more complicated than beating the hell out of him or killing him. It's not just about me," she explained."I have to think about my sister, this is her husband and they are expecting a baby, I can't just think about myself - "
"It's about a damn time you started thinking about yourself," he interjected sharply, standing up abruptly."He deserves to die for what he's done to you and he will get what he deserves."
"I can't do that," she replied in a painful whisper, shaking her head." I can't do that to my sister. I can't take the father away from my nephew - "
"Morticia - "
"How is killing him going to help?" she interjected."Tell me, what will it achieve?"
"I don't care," he retorted sharply."It's what he deserves and I don't care about the consequences."
"Well, I do care," she said firmly."She's my sister and he's the father of her child...children."
"He should have thought about it before he raised his hands on you."
"Gomez - "
"The child is better off without that scum of a father," he interrupted angrily." And if your sister is too blind to see that she's married to nothing more but a pathetic coward and a worthless vermin then I'll be doing her huge favour anyway," he added angrily, coming to stand next to the window and focused on the graveyard outside. He could feel himself getting angry at her fierce opposition. Next thing, she will be ready to defend the bastard.
"You're not being reasonable - "
"I could say the same to you."
"Me?" she repeated in disbelief." How is stating the fact that killing him is not the way unreasonable?" she insisted and almost flinched when he turned towards her abruptly.
"If it were her," he asked suddenly."If he hurt Ophelia like that, what would you do?"
She held his gaze stoically but swallowed audibly, fisting her hands into the silk bed covers.
"What would you do, Morticia?" he asked again when she remained silent but still glared at him. He could tell she wasn't appreciating the question.
"I would kill him," she admitted, finally.
"And yet you do not think you're worth the same privilege," he accused. "You want me to stand by and do nothing - I can't do that, Tish."
"It's not that, Gomez" she assured, letting out a frustrated breath."Do you really think that I want him to get away with it? I don't," she said shakily."I...hate him more than I can put into words. I hate what he's done to me, I hate how vulnerable and helpless he made me feel and if I could I would gladly let you rip him apart...but I can't do that, Gomez," she paused and swallowed heavily, wiping the tears off her cheeks."I can't be vengeful, I feel that... if I do something like that, my sister will never speak to me again, she will never forgive me. This whole thing will be beyond repair and -"
"No, Tish," he interjected, swallowing heavily and shook his head."What you're saying is...is insane."
"It's not," she insisted and paused, clearly uneasy to continue.
"It is," he stressed."No one should ever compromise like this, it's insane, you cannot allow for," he paused, gazing at her with a pained look on his face before continuing firmly." This an abuse, Tish. No one has the right to do that to you, he abused you, don't act like it's nothing -"
"She will say it's my fault," she said finally and immediately wished she didn't. Well, here was a spectacular way to lose an argument.
He frowned, obviously taken aback.
"She won't," he assured confidently."No one would ever think that, God, why are you even thinking like that?"
She sighed, frustrated with her own blunder and looked away briefly before catching his gaze again.
"Last time," she started slowly but then paused briefly, biting her lower lips anxiously."Last time...when he hit me, she sort of suggested that...it was partially my fault."
"She said what?" he asked incredulously, it took almost all of his energy to stay calm because he felt as if his very insides were burning with such incredible wrath he could barely stand it.
"She implied," Morticia admitted. "Look, Jared was drunk and I provoked him - that's how she will see it because I could have - "
"Don't say it," he snapped." For God's sake, don't you dare to even think that way? Nothing here is your fault, do you understand? And if your sister really thinks like that...if she...even for a second - then she may go to hell. I don't care if she's a family. No one will speak to you like that."
"Darling, I'm so... tired of all this," she said, pressing her fingers to her forehead."I can't deal with Jared on top of everything else," she admitted."Please don't make it worse now. Let me think...at least give me some time, let me just… I really don't know what to do," she added pleadingly." I need some time to think it through."
Gomez sighed tiredly and drew her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head and felt her relax in his embrace, if only marginally.
He had no intentions of making it worse but his wife didn't understand that lines have been crossed unforgivingly and what would make this whole thing worse was to underplay it, to not react and to let Jared think he can get away with whatever the hell he wants.
He couldn't.
And Gomez was sure to make this explicitly clear.
"Did you get any sleep?" Fester asked worriedly descending the stairs to the kitchen where his mother was already sitting at the table with a cup of strong coffee.
"Not really," she admitted.
"No, me neither," he concurred tiredly and grabbed a cup from the shelf before sitting at the chair opposite his mother. He reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a hearty cup of the black beverage.
"I still can't believe it," his mother said quietly without quite looking at him."I couldn't sleep, I couldn't stop crying…," she faltered and swallowed."I can't… what kind of monster could have done something like that?"
"Mama, I know but...don't act like this in front of her," Fester asked gently."She will be mortified. She can't handle that."
"I know," his mother nodded, wiping the moisture from her eyes."I know, I know. I was planning to get myself together before breakfast," she admitted and Fester smiled ruefully at her, wrapping his fingers around hers in a comforting manner.
There was a familiar sharp, purposeful sound of someone descending the stairs and sure enough a few seconds later Gomez Addams, furious like a devil himself, materialized in the kitchen.
"How is she?" his mother asked immediately.
"Sleeping," he replied tensely."She didn't sleep last night."
"Did she eat anything?"
"Not really," he retorted, grabbing a metal lighter from the box on the shelf and promptly pocketed it in his blazer.
"Where're you off to?" Fester asked curiously.
"I'm meeting with Michael to go and get Morticia's stuff," he explained in an impassive tone.
"What stuff?" his mother frowned at him.
"Her plant," he deadpanned.
Eudora blinked and frowned in confusion.
"Her... plant?"
"Yes," he nodded, looking straight at her."Her plant - the African Strangler."
She stared at him intently and her mouth fell agape with realization.
"And does Morticia know about that?"
"I didn't want to disturb her," he explained. "She needs to rest. Anyway, it won't take long. We'll be back in time for lunch."
"Oh," his mother nodded knowingly."And what dish should I serve for lunch? A strong alibi or cold revenge?"
"Both sound delicious."
"What should we tell Morticia?" Fester asked calmly, sipping his coffee.
"The truth," Gomez replied, already half-way up the stairs.
"Which is?"
"That I went to get her plant."
Jared could not believe how smoothly it went, well… at least as smoothly as such things could have gone. All the stress and worry was thankfully for nought and he couldn't be more relieved.
Granted, his wife insisted on staying at his mother's over the weekend so it was rather clear that he wasn't out of the woods just yet but she obviously gave him a benefit of a doubt and that was more than he could have hoped for. Besides, staying with his mother might not be a bad idea anyway. Who was better at buttering Ophelia than Dorothy Diamond?
It almost felt like he was given a second chance and he was determined not to waste it.
He wrinkled his nose the moment he entered the house as the strong odour of bleach hit his nostrils. His mother went a little overboard with all that cleaning. God knows how long will it take for that blasted smell to go away.
He made his way straight to his office instead, he had a tone of work to catch up anyway. He faltered as the unmistakable smell of Cuban cigar reached him before he had a chance to enter the office.
"Mr Addams," he remarked cooly, entering the room where Gomez Addams was sitting, his legs crossed in a leisurely manner. There was a remnant of a cigar in a crystal ashtray, indicating he was already here for some time. Devil only knows how did he get in in the first place, he thought and immediately made his way slowly to the small bar in the corner of the room. He will certainly need a drink if he had to deal with this fool."To what do I owe this questionable pleasure?"
"I thought it was a good time for us to get to know each other better," Gomez supplied silkily, sitting comfortably in the chair opposite Jared's desk."You know, since we're a family now."
Jared chuckled mirthlessly, pouring himself a glass of brandy.
"You know, I must admit I underestimated her," he snorted in disdain." Brandy?"
"Too early for me."
"Suit yourself," he smiled indulgently."But really. All that time, I thought it was you - wooing the foolish, naive wench but...damn, you have to admit she played it out masterfully," he sneered before turning towards Gomez with an amused expression on his face, taking a small sip of the drink and waited for the familiar burn to settle in his stomach."You probably gave her all the money she needed, didn't you?"
Gomez didn't reply, regarding Jared with a neutral expression, neither vexed nor amused and tilted his head slightly, playing absently with Jared's fountain pen.
"Of course you did," Jared continued."Perfectly executed, I give her that. She got her money and got out from the unwanted marriage and her inheritance remain untouched - bravo," he smiled condescendingly."Although, I don't know what her dear late father would think of her methods. The poor fellow did not expect to have raised a whore. It's only small mercy her mother doesn't understand what's going on around her."
"You've got a lot of nerve," Gomez retorted calmly."Or is it alcohol-induced bravery?" he smirked."It's never a good idea to rely on that," he pointed to the drink in the man's hand." So many men get in trouble inspired by their hard liquor- conjured fantasy. So many died because of it."
"What did you come here for?" he asked sardonically."To fight for her honour?"
"I came to get Morticia's plant," he retorted before gracing the man before him with an amused smirk."Officially," he added.
"And unofficially?" Jared asked, sitting behind his desk and regarded Gomez calmly.
Gomez allowed a small smile to grace his lips before dropping his gaze to the item in his hands.
"Caran D'Ache," he remarked appreciatively, turning the fountain pen in his fingers before popping it open."My father used them," he supplied."Good make, sturdy. Great for long writing, also useful as a weapon," he added in a matter of fact tone and before Jared could comprehend what had happened Gomez pounced from his chair and stabbed the sharp metal end of the fountain pen straight into Jared's open palm.
It took the man almost five seconds to register what had happened. The sound of a glass hitting the polished wood followed.
"Fuck!" he screamed, immediately getting up on his feet."What the fuck - "
Gomez raised his hands gently in a gesture of surprise.
"What's the matter?" he asked, watching the man struggle to remove the pen from his bleeding palm."Don't you like it?" he promoted before delivering a kick into Jared's knee before the man could even think of retaliating and felt the bone crack under the impact. He watched the man's legs give away and he failed to grab the edge of the desk falling on the floor with a shocked cry. "Where's your bravado now, Mr Diamond? "
"Are you fucking insane?" he hissed, clutching his leg with his good hand letting the blood from his injured hand stain the carpet.
"What?" he grinned."Did you really think I came here to talk?"
"You broke my fucking leg, you psychopath -"
"Sorry," Gomez supplied with a small smirk and extended his hand to help the man upon his feet."I got a bit angry. You see, I don't react well to men who use violence against women."
Jared looked at Gomez's hand but didn't make a move to accept the help.
"She's disgraced my family by whoring with the likes of you for all this bloody city to see," he spat angrily." It's about a bloody time someone taught that little whore some respect."
"Respect?" Gomez shook his head in a half-amused, half-exasperated manner before delivering a strong kick into man's ribs. Then another and another until Jared was gasping for breath."How is that for the lesson?"
It took quite a few moments for the man on the floor to find his voice.
"All this," Jared grunted sardonically, obviously fighting pain."Because of a little whore? I must admit I didn't expect it," he laughed despite the pain. "She must not be that frigid after all."
He half expected Addams to punch him in the face but the man grabbed his shirt pulled him up to his feet, shoving him against the settee.
"All this?" Gomez asked sardonically."That's nothing," he assured, wrapping his hand around Jared's fingers and bent it swiftly against the back of Jared's hand until he felt the faint popping of the bones breaking. "How do you like it, feeling more respectful yet?" he hissed, ignoring the man's desperate cry of pain and pressed Jared's finger harder to the back before finally releasing his hand in a sharp shove and the man slid on the carpeted floor, resting his back against the rim of the settee.
"She's not fucking worth it, you know," he rasped in pain, clutching his broken fingers close to his chest." She deserved all she got."
The man was either an idiot or seriously doubted Gomez's intent to tear him to pieces. Perhaps he wasn't as explicit as he thought he was, he decided and promptly delivered another strong kick into Jared's ribs and the man in question hissed in pain.
"Fuck," he groaned, pressing his head into the carpet."Enough...you demented motherfu-" he started to sweat but groaned when Gomez casually stepped onto his broken hand.
"I don't think you had it nowhere near enough," he remarked, taking his cigar from his breast pocket and slowly lit the tip before smiling menacingly at the man on the floor."And I want to make sure there will be no misunderstandings between us," he remarked silkily before bending towards Jared and pressing the lit tip of his cigar into his injured hand until the man screamed in pain.
Gomez allowed waited a few moments before throwing the cigar away.
"You're so fucking stupid, Addams," Jared grunted in pain when Gomez finally let go of him.
"Do you really want to go that route, Mr Diamond?" he asked sardonically.
"She's fucking using you to get the money -"
"I'm warning you," he supplied jovially.
"I don -" he didn't get a chance to finish because Gomez was next to him in a flash, fisting his hand into Jared's blond hair before pulling it sharply.
"Shut up," he hissed and shoved him onto the chair behind Jared's desk, fisting his fingers into man's crisp white shirt."I'm not interested in what you have to say. Let me tell you this - you're not a man," he spat." If you were a man I would have killed you for what you've done to her... but you don't deserve to die like a man. You deserve to live and die like a pathetic coward you are but make no mistake of being complacent," he continued when the man's face relaxed in relief."Don't ever approach my wife or I'll kill you, don't talk about her...or I'll kill you, if I ever hear you mention her name again - I will kill you, don't even think about her," he paused for a moment to let his words sink in and by the look on Jared's face - that was somewhere between wrath and sheer terror - he was getting the picture." And if you ever lay a finger on any woman again - any at all - I will break every single bone in your body, cut you into pieces and feed you to my pet crocodiles. Do we understand each other, Mr Diamond?"
"You're fucking insane," he retorted, breathing heavily, teeth grit in pain.
Gomez grinned at his words.
"I am," he agreed."And you better never forget that," he whispered threateningly and without another word smashed Jared's face against the highly polished desk and smiled again when he heard the man swear profoundly, clutching his broken, bloody nose.
There was a faint knock on the door and a second later Michael peered in, wincing as he surveyed the damage. There was a small pot with a plan in his hands.
"That didn't take long," Michael supplied lightly, holding the plant safe distance away.
Gomes shrugged.
"It never does," he replied, coming towards him."How's my hair?"
"Glorious as always," Michael assured before looking at the bloodied pile of human on the floor behind the desk."Remind me never to get on your bad side."
"I don't have any other," Gomez supplied in a deadpan manner."Care for some lunch?"
"Sure," he nodded." As long as it's properly dead and doesn't crawl on my plate."
A/N: So... I have never kicked anybody's butt myself but I hope I have done the scene justice and it didn't disappoint lol. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!