Hello, if anyone feels like this title seems familiar, that's because this is a rewrite. So if you're interested, read on and tell me what you think!
"Ah, I see my phantom wife has returned."
Encased in a web of black satin, Morticia's body twisted as she hobbled into their bedroom, still unused to the added weight she bared. That and the dramatic train of her nightgown she absolutely refused to part with, even for nine months.
A feeling of domesticity, not uncommon to her these past few years overtook her as she looked at Gomez, nestled into the sea of silk sheets and velvet pillows occupying their bed. The deep red of his night clothes made for a delicious contrast to his skin. Nursing a copy of The Raven with glasses perched on his nose, he never looked more handsome.
Morticia smirked, offering up her only reply as she made her way to the grand windows, blatantly disregarding her husband's desire for her to join him. She felt his arms encircle hers, warm hands coming to rest protectively on the small, head-shaped bulge below her protruding navel.
"While I'm ordinarily delighted at the very idea of you with the babe," he nuzzled her neck, "I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer you spending your evenings with me, Tish," he said, placing a kiss on her shoulder.
Barely suppressing a chuckle, Morticia reached behind to cup his cheek, letting her nails dig in slightly before guiding his lips to hers. She took a moment to relish in the blissful monotony of their reunion.
Like a true creature of the night, Morticia Addams would often be found wandering the graveyard and barren hallways during the late evenings, wishing for momentary solitude with her petit diable. She would spend hours conversing with him or her, pretending they could hear her. She frequently caught herself daydreaming of another pair of tiny hands and feet, while whispering sweet nothings and caressing her swollen belly. Upon returning to the house around midnight, she would find her husband lounging on their marriage bed pretending to be reading. An easy smile and quick-witted jab almost masking the fact that he had been waiting for her.
They stayed in their loving embrace for a few moments before Morticia pulled away.
"Have I been neglecting you, my love?'' she teased, voice taking on a suggestive lilt, "Is there something you desire of me?"
"Cara Mia," he crooned into her ear before turning her around to face him.
Morticia was momentarily stunned by the look of pure love in his clear brown eyes. Despite being together for nearly three years, it still surprised her the depths to which this man adored her. Made her feel like she meant anything in this cruel world. Arousing new sensations out of her every time she looked at his handsome face.
It frightened her, and she loved it.
She listened, transfixed as her husband went into another one of his frequent rhapsodies on how he loved her. How he would die and kill for her. It made her shiver with delight. However, her aching body alerted her to the fact that sex was the last thing on her mind at this moment.
With a vermilion nail to soft pink lips, she politely stopped his words before she jumped him.
"What I desire most right now, is the sound of your heartbeat," she whispered. Long lashes fluttered, conveying a hint of softness she rarely displayed.
Gomez grinned, leaping to switch off the lights before scooping her up and laying on their bed.
"Goodnight, querida," he whispered into the darkness, pulling her as close as possible, letting his hands stroke her belly to soothe their little bat.
"Goodnight, darling," she mumbled, letting the rhythmic thumping of his heart lull her to sleep.
Something was not right.
A voice whispered, panic oozed from its words, seeping into her mind. Her body shook from the inside out as the voice desperately tried to coax her out from her sweet nightmare of Gomez and the babe and Wednesday.
Wednesday. Oh her sullen baby girl. Born with a perpetual scowl marring her features, she almost never cried, rather content to stare unflinchingly at everything around her. Seemingly aware of what was going on.
Her firstborn was so young and sweet. So pale and quiet, with large dark eyes, a slim nose and rosy lips, she looked like a possessed porcelain doll. She was perfect.
Like a mantra, the voice whispered to her that something was not right in her world. Each repetition rose in decibel until it screamed out. Hoarse from exhaustion, it contaminated her nightmare successfully.
Something was wrong with Wednesday.
A sudden rush of air invaded Morticia's lungs as she was violently brought back into the world of the living.
Her body, foreign to the concept of sudden rushed movements, shifted in her husband's arms as dark brown eyes opened. To a stranger, it would seem as if she were a cadaver being revived. Gooseflesh puckered on her arms as her heart thumped in her chest like a warning toll. Morticia's eyes adjusted in the black of the night, listening to her own heartbeat steady itself. Truly common sense would prevail and alert her to the fact that it was just an unpleasant nightmare. However, her exhausted body seemed to be lacking it as it rose on its own accord.
She briefly toyed with the idea of waking Gomez, before realizing how silly it would be to deny him rest because of one silly dream.
Slowly untangling his arms from around her, she slipped out of bed, before drifting into the darkness. She just needed to see her daughter.
…...
The floorboards groaned against her slipper clad feet, echo bouncing across the halls, giving the illusion as if it were the sound of a tormented spirit. It protested greatly its disturbance as Morticia followed the familiar steps to the nursery. The light of the candelabras danced across the halls, casting large picture frames in monstrous shadows, all giving her looks of curious scrutiny.
Her subconscious whispered to her, spurring her on even as her mind admonished her for her stupidity for leaving her husband's embrace just to wake the baby. Motherly instinct was not a truly foreign concept to Morticia. Despise being the younger of two, she often found herself taking care of her older sister. Drying her tears and peeling the gum off her hair when the other children had been especially cruel to her and their parents were nowhere to be seen. However, Ophelia was not Wednesday. And so after a year and a half, she still often found herself filled with uncertainty as to how to tailor her instincts properly to her own daughter. Subconsciously stroking her belly, she knew she had to learn fast.
Morticia's fingers grazed the cold handle of the nursery door, opening it slowly before closing it behind her as so as to not create any unnecessary noise.
The nursery was large and dark but mostly barren, the only furniture was a single crib at the centre of the room, a wooden rocking chair next to the wall, a chaise lounge chair and the wardrobe over to the corner. Morose depictions of the brutal reality of the world on the wallpaper contrasted beautifully with the sheep wool carpeting. A single window adjacent to the door provided the only source of light in the room.
For once, Morticia's face betrayed her emotions through her voice delayed itself as her feet propelled her to the crib. Her hand shakily touched her baby's blanket. Horror stabbed her, as the light of the moon confirmed that the reflection in her eyes was true. She was staring into an empty crib.
Where was Wednesday?
A feeling of overwhelming panic threatened to overtake her. Where was her baby?
"Morticia, my love."
The voice startled her. First believing it to be her subconscious, until she became aware of the fact that someone was breathing loudly behind her. The darkness helped to conceal the figure hidden next to the wardrobe, but the outline of him began to form, and in his arms, he held her slumbering child.
Morticia's mind screamed at her to do something. Anything at all but her vocal cords refused to comply as she stood frozen. Wide eyes staring at the shadow of the man's face staring back at her.
"It has been too long," he whispered, gloved hands reaching out to touch her.
Somehow, that seemed to spur her on. As if her briefly thinking her child was missing, only to find her kidnapper in the room with her wasn't quite enough, the softest gesture of finely crafted leather gloves grazing across her cheek seemed to ignite her vocal cords. She would have laughed if she wasn't currently screaming.
Wednesday woke up, frightened, and offered the house a chance to hear one of her rare cries just as the man reared back. He went to grab her arm but Morticia sidestepped, reaching out to pull her child to her. He pushed her back, causing her to almost lose her balance. She swiped at him, nails tearing through black fabric and breaking skin as she let out a most guttural growl. Unfortunately, she knew she was very ill-equipped for fighting in her thin nightgown, swollen belly providing a vulnerability to her. With one hard kick, the man sent her flying three feet away. Instincts told her to hold her belly as tightly to absorb as much shock as possible to save her child, thankfully she landed on her back.
The sound of her family running through the house provided a cruel symphony as she watched helplessly as the man jumped out the window, carrying a still crying Wednesday with him.
Tears blurred her vision, barely registering the sound of the door bursting behind her and her Gomez crouching to pull her into his lap. All the sound left the room until it was just Morticia, sobbing on the floor, her brain struggling with the realization that she just witnessed quite literally a mother's worst fear.
…
Oh wow.
He expertly manoeuvred his body, carefully adjusting the child as he landed on a particularly sturdy tree branch. Thankfully the fall seemed to have stopped her screams, for her eyes started to drift close. He could hear the faint sound of crying in the background. It crushed him to know that he could not get her too, but he would come back. He moved in the darkness, trying not to make a sound as he took an improvised route back out the estate and to his car.
His mind would replay their reunion for years to come. She looked so beautiful bathed in the moonlight. So ethereal, just like he remembered her. Beautiful but so scared. His poor darling. His heart broke for her as he recalled her appearing as if she didn't even recognize him.
He wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms when he saw the state of her. Those sick bastards not only took her from him, took his own child, but forced- he had to take a breath because he was getting too heated.
Of course, he already knew what Gomez Addams did to her. But seeing her pregnant form up close for once filled him with such rage. He refused to even entertain the thought of what they may be doing to her now.
"My darling Morticia, I am so sorry. Soon I will break you free." he rasped. Voice slightly winded from running through the thick forest surrounding the estate.
He couldn't wait to have her in his arms again.
But for now, he focused on their miracle baby sleeping in his arms. He knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least save their daughter first. The poor baby cried so much for him, wearing herself out to exhaustion again.
Knowing they would send that lumbering beast after him, he picked up his pace, reaching to the edge of the estate and burrowing through the makeshift tunnel he constructed himself before sprinting half a mile to his car.
Once little Omirosa was safely tucked in the back seat, he started the car and drove off. Promising that he would come back for his beloved.
Finally, he would get his family back.