Seriously guys, why isn't there any Xavier whump out there? If you want to see this anemic troubled baby suffer as desperately as me, this might be for you.

Also, apparently I seem to think that the bare minimum it requires for Wednesday to admit her attraction to Xavier is a sickfic and Wednesday discovering her medical kink.

„LEAVE!"

The urgency and desperation of Xavier´s shout seems to pierce right through her and for some reason not accessible to her cognitive thinking she cannot help but give in to the immediate urge to flee from its hollow reverberation, a weird numbness blunting the edges of her vision.

Wednesday is just about to exit the room, when another, much softer sound followed by a metallic clangour makes her stop mid movement.

Thump.

Three breaths of deadly silence pass, before she slowly turns on her heels to look back.

Xavier has sunk to his knees, right in the middle of the cell. His frame shaking as if under strenuous effort. The weirdly crouched position he has taken up, causes something inside of her to tingle. She cocks her head and can't entirely brush off the sudden trace of confusion.

One of his chained hands seems to frantically clutch at something in front of him, the other almost violently presses onto his middle. His breathing comes ragged and shallow, through his streaky hair curtaining his face she can see that his eyes are squeezed shut tightly. And that way she suddenly feels weirdly intrigued and taken aback at the same time, she knows something is very off.

He moans and doubles over and she sees his knuckles whiten from the strain of his grip.

And then, suddenly, time seems to catch up on her with a jump only to continue racing on in double speed, and everything happens very fast. As if being triggered by his sound her mind starts spinning in a dizzying speed and she feels her eyes rapidly dart around in a desperate attempt to grasp the situation, trying to make sense of what's happening. Is he transforming? Was she right after all?

Wednesday hears a strange sniffling sound.

And within the blink of an eye it all falls into place and she feels like zooming out and hyperfocussing at the same time. It's like a soft-focus filter is brutally ripped away from her vision, burning all the only-now visible details with a relentless hyperclarity into her retina. The sickly-greyish color of his face, the almost purple patches under his eyes, the lacerated corners of his mouth, the dried blood on his fingertips and around his neck and wrists, the stains on his uniform; only amplified by the strike of lightning she feels, when he groans again, and violently starts retching into what she now recognizes as a bucket in front of him. Unable to move, she almost fascinatedly stares at the yellow-orangey bile, mixed with visibly barely digested contents of his stomach that uncontrollably come rushing from his mouth. She stares and stares, not able to avert her eyes from his bodies' eager attempt to expel every life-giving nutrient from his body, a weird mixture of what sounds like sobs and groans echoing hollowly in the cold and empty room.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but must have been barely a couple of minutes, the retching resides. Xavier remains in his crouched position for some more shivering breaths, spitting saliva into the bucket and snuffling audibly.

A strand of greasy hair fall into his face when he comes up again. His forehead is covered in sweat.

All the anger has vanished, entirely replaced by utter exhaustion and something else, Wednesday can't quite place. Something very young and very terrified.

„Shit!"

He flinches back, when he notices her, and the expression on his face disappears under a mask of put-on indifference within seconds.

For some moments, they both remain silent.

Then:

„I guess it's gonna be raining tomorrow", he hastily says with what supposedly is meant to be a dry chuckle. The attempt to fake cheerfulness is so insincere and weak and the contrast to situation so absurd, that he doesn't even seem to convince himself. Yet, it seems to shake something in her awake, and the finally manages to free herself from her paralysis.

„This is beneath you, Xavier."

She stares at him piercingly.

The smile slips from his mouth as if she had slapped it out of his face, leaving only uneasiness.

He sighs wearily.

„Well, didn't mean for you to see this."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, chains rattling. The way he says it, she immediately knows, that this hasn't been the first time. She feels a burning feeling in her throat, one she can't place.

„Who is doing that to you?", still unable to move, her words cut sharper than her preparation scalpel.

Is that a… tremble in her voice? Angrily she grits her teeth without knowing at whom it is aimed.

Xavier frowns, and a mixture of emotions flicker across his face, each one too transient for Wednesday to comprehend. Then he suddenly laughs, a hollow and somewhat bitter one, and this time it's her who feels like she has been slapped across the face.

„Oh, I don't know, Wednesday", he suddenly looks almost…pitiful?

"What do you think?"

She stares at him incredulously.

And suddenly, realisation crashes her like the blade of a guillotine. Sharp, relentless, final.

Until this very moment Xavier's imprisonment had been an unfortunate sideeffect that was a needed and consequent step in a chain of events to catch the Hyde.

But now…

„Wednesday…", she is so startled by the worry in his voice, that she realizes, that she has lost control over her facial expression.

„I've never been a good eater - another thing my dad took personally", he adds smiling almost apologetically and licks his dry-cracked lips, but suddenly shudders and doubles over again, dryly heaving before bringing up some yellow liquid. It hits the bucket with a wet splashing sound.

Wednesday only realises that she has taken an instinctive step towards the cell when her extended hand touches the cold metal of the bars.

I am.

I am doing this to you.

And without another word, she turns on her heels, and runs, her inside an outcry of whirling sensations.

She has something to make up for.

These kind of fics usually don't get much feedback, so I would appreciate it even more, if you did leave some.

P.S. Part two – which will be longer - is already halfway written, although I'm uncertain, in which direction I want to torture Xavier, so let me know what you want to see and I might consider it. Emeto, belly kink and medical stuff is on the plate, but the extent discussable.

P.P.S. I find it incredibly hard to write Wednesday, as I am convinced that she doesn't feel or deflects most of her feeling, which makes it incredibly difficult to show, what actually might be going on in her deep down below hidden under all her layers of defense mechanisms.