Disclaimer; Any characters or dialouge you recognize is not mine, but Nathanial and his many problems is.
-
Wednesday groaned as Cousin Lumpy whirled her around again, his weird parody of a dance making her nauseous.
She wasn't complaining though. The nausea was wonderfully invigorating after the afternoon of boredom she was being subjected to.
But still, Lumpy was giving her a headache, and she was delightfully rabid when angry. Well, delightful for her anyway. She doubted there would be much left for Lumpy to fit into a matchbox.
"May I cut in?" A soft succinct voice cut in, a voice she was familiar with, having spent most of her evenings messing around the cemetery with him.
"Do you mind?" Wednesday asked her cousin, carefully projecting an 'agree-or-I'll-dismember-you' glare she had perfected after three years of dealing with annoying, childish classmates.
"S-sure." Lumpy stuttered, giving a bright smile to his cousin. "H-have f-fun."
As Lumpy shuffled away, Wednesday turned to get a better look at her savior, surprised despite herself.
Nathanial O'Killarny was not a subtle person; in fact, he was about as subtle as a chainsaw. For example, he made a point to dye his hair a different neon color every week, making sure he wore black clothes in comparison so it stood out better. He collected literature on the Spanish Inquisition and the reigns of the Shoguns of Japan, and, as far as she knew, he was the only non-Addams who enjoyed reading the gravestones in the family cemetery and helping her get some of the harder to acquire parts for Pugsley's various boobytraps.
Subtle was not his forte.
But here he was, dressed regally in a black bawcock with silver stitching, his hair dyed to match, and a big grin on his face, blending in smoothly with the assembled Addams kin.
Wednesday scowled, annoyed at his boyish immaturity. "Wipe that grin off your face Nathanial, it was you or Lumpy, it wasn't the hardest decision I've ever made." Wednesday noticed with satisfaction that his smile dropped as little lower, before it was back in full force. "Finally finished your therapy?" Wednesday smirked, causing Nathanial to flinch for a second.
"Well, you did surgically remove my organ and keep it in your room. I was slightly…traumatized."
Wednesday waved it off. That? That was child's play. Keeping him alive, that had been the hard part. Nathanial seemed to be pulling himself together, flashing that blinding grin again.
"Well, you still looked like you needed rescuing."
Wednesday snorted, but kept silent, knowing that deep down, he was right. Really, really deep down, that is.
"Anyway," Wednesday forged on, ignoring Nathanial's knowing look. "Are you going to ask me to dance or what?"
Nathanial turned red, the blood blossoming in his cheeks, that flooding to his ears and down to his neck. "Um," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I can't dance."
Wednesday stared at him, her eyes wide and unblinking. "Not…dance?" she asked, almost as if it were possible he could function without knowing how. "I've been dancing before I could walk." Because Mother made me, she thought to herself. I hated it, but now I'm glad I know how, it makes these family gatherings less awkward.
"Well," Nathanial huffed, his face less red but still considerably pink, " I wasn't thinking this through all the way, it looked like you weren't having fun, so I rescued you, I didn't think about asking you to dance."
Wednesday cocked her head, staring up at Nathanial's honest face intensely, chewing her bottom lip in a thoughtful scowl.
"What?" Nathanial asked, self consciously, aware they were standing practically in the middle of the dance floor all the sudden.
"Nothing." Wednesday's reply was immediate, and the look was gone. "Come one, I'm going to teach you how to dance, so you can't embarrass yourself in front of anyone important." Without further adieu, Wednesday grabbed Nathanial by his wrist and dragged him to the front entrance, ignoring the knowing smiles and snickers the Addams Clan were sharing against them. Nathanial, however, turned a shade of red that rivaled his earlier color.
Allowing Wednesday to drag him out of the door, Nathanial took a moment again to marvel at the hundreds of candles that lighted the house, lighting the old house in an incandescent glow that made even the decades of spider webs glisten.
"Listen up." Wednesday said flatly, dragging Nathanial through a door off of the main entrance hallway. "I'm only going to teach you this once, so pay attention." They were in a dusty dance studio no, the walls paned in floor to ceiling glass, encrusted with grime. Then he was snapped out of his reverie by the scratchy sound of a record player starting up, filling the air with sweet music that literally made him want to dance.
"The man offers his left hand, that's you Nathanial, in case you've forgotten, to the lady while standing with his weight on his right foot." Wednesday smirked snarkily, amused at Nathanial's slightly pink cheeks.
Nathanial did so, awkwardly standing there, his left hand dangling in space.
"The woman approaches the man and gives him her right hand."
Wednesday took his hand and Nathanial nearly jumped at the coldness of her soft palm. Nathanial blinked as the music seemed to flow through his brain, Wednesday's voice echoing through his brain, detached from her unsynchronized lips.
"The woman takes up position which is slightly offset to her left of the man."
Wednesday pulled him towards her gently, far more gently than she had ever touched him before (she was usually smacking him upside the head) so that his left side was in contact with her right, his long kidney scar tingling at her nearness
"Put your right arm on my shoulder blade." Wednesday said, her face blank. Nathanial, blushing as he did so, complied, his warm hand settling on the black fabric of the floor length dress she was wearing.
"The first beat is the driving step, the man will normally start forward left foot." Nathanial haltingly stepped forward, hesitant and nervous.
"If you're going to do something, be confident about it." Wednesday snapped, annoyed at Nathanial's faltering half-step. Nathanial hastily stepped forward with his left foot again, this time to Wednesday's satisfaction.
"The second step is right foot sideways - to the right, the third step the left foot closing to the right foot and lowering preparing to start forward right. " Nathanial was getting the hang of it now, gracefully able to pull off a decent half waltz.
"Over the three steps the man turns 1/4 turn. The man steps forward again on beat one - forward right foot, side left, right foot closes to left foot and changes weight." Wednesday said, now letting the reigns of the timing and movements to Nathanial, brutally watching him flounder before correcting him and watching him, and correcting him again.
Soon, he was waltzing as though he had done so his whole life, well, maybe not that well, perhaps he was mediocre, but he had an excellent grasp of rhythm, meaning easier dancing, less jerking, and hesitating.
Soon, Nathanial was sweaty and laughing, dancing with Wednesday around the room, the girl in question bearing the unmistakable signs of a smirk, and almost smile.
"This isn't so hard-." Nathanial said, just before he nearly tripped and went sprawling. Wednesday's normally scowling face became slightly bemused as Nathanial righted himself, embarrassed.
Outside, a shaft of moonlight fell across her face, casting half of it in shadow, making her obsidian eyes shine. Nathanial became suddenly very aware how close she was to him, her face barely inches from her own.
And then, Nathanial threw all caution into the wind, and leaned forward, angling his face toward that of Wednesday's…
"Wednesday!" the silky voice of Wednesday's mother Morticia outside the door stopped Nathanial a centimeter from Wednesday.
Wednesday shook herself out of her daze, half pushing Nathanial away, striding to the door, and leaving Nathanial alone in the studio, listlessly staring door, wincing when Wednesday slammed it shut.
'Stupid.' Nathanial thought, as he dropped onto the floor, his head in his hands. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'
Rejection came down like a black cloud, pressing down on his senses. Icy sadness curled around his heart and his kidney scar ached.
He knew Wednesday didn't like stuff like that, that she was serious and didn't like him like that, but…he did. He liked her a lot. A few tears of self-pity leaked out of his eyes, before he fiercely brushed them away, straightening his bawcock as he stood.
'Enough crying.' He thought, striding back the party, ignoring the pity-filled looks the Addams were surreptitiously giving him, going straight to the flutes of champagne on a side table, downing one, quickly followed by another.
Dejected, Nathanial slumped into a chair against the wall, watching in interest as Mr. Addams, dressed in Cossack attire, accosted his brother, a tall, stocky man with shadowed eyes named Fester.
The tambourines started slow, before they slowly began to pick up the pack, the jingling of the Cossak bells weaving through Nathanial's muddled brain. They began to juggle knives, throwing them so fast that it looked like a web of flexing steal stretched between them. Fester, though uncertain at first, had quickly remembered the dance and was soon finishing, catching the final, foot long blade in his mouth.
'How is that…even humanly possible?" Nathanial thought loosely, fascinated. The knife was longer than his mouth, by rights it should be protruding out of the back of his neck.
Nathanial shivered and turned back to his drink, spinning the golden liquid in the crystal flute. Rubbing his finger over the engraved Addams Family crest, Nathanial slowly descended from the glorious fascination that had distracted him from his stupid actions. He wished he could take back what he had done-almost done- now it would be awkward, strange between Wednesday and himself.
Nathanial allowed his stare to heat, glaring at the goblet with venom. If only her mother hadn't interfered, none of this would have happened. Then Nathanial sighed and continued on with his self indulgence, knowing he was going to wake up tomorrow cursing himself for the brutal hangover he was sure to have (not having had any alcohol whatsoever before this), but not caring anyway.
-
The party was over soon after, the guests all filing out to their cars and, in the case of Flora and Fauna, the van the mental institution sent to pick them up. Nathanial managed to stop himself from drinking too much, he was only fourteen after all, and he wasn't supposed to drink at all, ignoring the knowing looks that Gomez (though he knew he would never use the man's first name to his face, no matter how many times he insisted it) had sent him throughout the party.
Ah, perhaps Morticia had given him similar romantic grief, and he himself had experienced the wonderful numbing sense that the alcohol gave him.
Nathanial wouldn't put it past Morticia at all. She seemed like the type who liked to torture her spouse, literally and figuratively.
He was the last to leave the mansion, carefully saying his fridged goodbyes to Morticia and a slightly better good-bye to a sympathetic Gomez, before wandering off into the cemetery, taking the shortcut back home.
Nathanial knew he was taking an extraordinary amount of time to something so simple. All he had to do was go home, fall asleep, and forget any of this had ever happened. But he found himself stopping often and looking at the moon until his champagne fogged eyes ached and his neck hurt.
Nathanial began to hum a little tune, the beat slow and the tone somber. The soft thrum of his vocal chords echoed around the empty cemetery and the headstones sang back to him.
"Everybody split up….around here….got to find her." The sound of Gomez Addams voice drifting across the graveyard on the wind caught Nathanial's attention. Twisting back to look where he came, he saw a huddle of people, each unmistakably Addams, standing around, listening to Gomez talk. He could only see five people, one of them definitely Lurch, the butler, unmistakable with his hulking form. Gomez and Morticia were also easy to identify, being the second tallest of the group. Pugsly was easy to see as well, his slightly round form easily discernable against the backdrop of moonlight. Mama Addams was also easy to tell, only she was that bent over, her body an oddly shaped lump.
That meant Wednesday was to one they had to find.
Scrambling back to where the Addams were convened, his head free of any drowsiness of fog brought on by copious amounts of champagne, he bounded like a deer over the various opened graves, low headstones, and mausoleums that stood in his way.
"Ah! Nathanial my boy!" Mr. Addams voice alerted the others to Nathanials presence. "You haven't happened to see Wednesday have you?"
"No, sir, not since the party."
"How worrying." Morticia mumbled to herself. "Perhaps you would wish to help?"
"Yes, ma'am." Morticia blinked, then turned to Mama Adams. "Mother, why is this boy being so polite?"
"Er…" Nathanial stuttered as all of the Addams looked at him, bemused. "I guess I wasn't brought up right?" he half-heartedly offered, hoping merely to be admitted to help find the object of his rejected affection.
"Poor thing." Morticia said sadly, before turning back to her husband. "We have once more searcher, my love."
"Splendid! Pugsley, head for the Dung Heap." Gomez said in serious voice, the furious chewing of his cigar the only indication of his worry for his daughter. "Mama and I will take the Shallow Graves, Morticia and Nathanial will search the Crypt and you, Lurch, check out the Bottomless Pit." Gomez paused for a second to take a long bracing draft from his cigar. "Fester?"
"Up here!" Fester's voice rang from his second floor window.
"Fester, you take the ravine and the unmarked, abandoned well!"
"Someone should stay behind, in case she comes back!" Festers rough, gravelly voice called back, his bald head and dark eyes poking out of the window, looking down on the assembled family.
"Good man!" Gomez called back, his voice lacking his usual gusto. "Good thinking!"
"Then who will take the Swamp?" Mama Addams asked, clasping a divining rod in one wrinkled hand.
Thing, crawling on his fingertips like a spider, scuttled along on the ground and tapped Gomez's shoe, in an obvious volunteer to search the swamp.
"That's the spirit Thing, lend a hand." Gomez smiled down at the disembodied hand. "Now let's go!"
Nathanial nodded and when the Addams family huddle broke, he followed the tall form of Morticia Addams, the fog that hung low to the ground swirling about her black shrouded body. It was like looking at a specter of Death's Lady, an analogy Nathanial had to shake himself hard to get rid of.
"You were upset, when you came back to the party." Morticia stated, her words ringing out in the stifling mist. "I believe my intrusion may be the cause of that."
Nathanial shifted uncomfortably, uneasily eyeing Morticia.
"As delightful as misery is, I hate seeing it when I am unwittingly the cause of it." Morticia paused and looked back at him, her crimson lips quirked slightly in a smile. "It is no fun when done accidentally."
Nathanial smiled back faintly in return, before turning his attentions to the huge mausoleum they were approaching, the name ADDAMS engraved over the shut doorway.
Morticia brushed the large vulture statue near the entrance, and the doors swung open, revealing Wednesday Addams, asleep on a stone altar, probably the seal to some rich Addams corpse.
Wordlessly, Nathanial stooped down and hoisted Wednesday into his arms, surprised by how light she was. Carefully cradling her to his chest, he walked out of the door, barely glancing at Morticia, so intense was
Morticia smiled slightly at Nathanial's almost unconscious display of affection before sweeping after Nathanial, closing the mausoleum behind him.
The rest of the Addams family filed in next to him, Gomez slightly brushing Wednesday's hair out of her face.
The group tramped up to the shadowy Addams House, Nathanial wishing fervently for the warm heated confines of his apartment, that Addams House was rather drafty.
Then they came to the locked, barred, and security taped gates to the property. Weird.
"What is the meaning of this?" Gomez exclaimed, clutching at the whining gates of the property, almost like a dog.
"It's a restraining order!" Tully exclaimed, striding up to the fence. "Saying you can't come within 1000 yards of this house!"
"Restraining order? Against my own home?"
"Actually, the estate goes to the eldest brother, Fester, so as such, he is completely in his rights to have you ejected from his home."
"But-Fester? Fester adores Gomez!" Morticia interjected, her eyes, dark like Wednesday's, sparkling dangerously.
"No, he's afraid of him! The Amore twins brought it all back, and now, I think it would be best if you all left."
Gomez let out a roar of anger, slamming his palms onto the gate, jarring Wednesday into consciousness. Blinking blearily, she shifted her head, rubbing her head onto silken fabric. Confused, she looked up, only to see a pair of sharp grey eyes looking down into her own.
'Nathanial?' Wednesday thought sleepily, a slight frown marring her pale features.
"You awake?" Nathanial whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her sensitive skin. "Do you want to walk?"
Still too sleepy to appreciate this, Wednesday shook her head and burrowed deeper into Nathanial's arms.
Nathanial stared down at the girl he was holding in his arms. 'Did she just…refuse to get down?' Nathanial thought, confused. 'I expected her to immediately get down! Maybe she just didn't recognize me, because she was so tired.' Nathanial's rational mind explained logically, but a small part of him, a part not squashed by Wednesday's apparent rejection of his advances rejoiced at this vote of trust in him.
"Where will we stay?" Morticia asked, looking at Gomez beseechingly as she jerked her head towards the exhausted children.
"Well, we shall have to rent a hotel." Gomez said, slightly disgusted at the thought. "And tomorrow, I will go to court."
"Do we even have any money?" Mama Addams asked, her scratchy voice worried.
Gomez felt around in his pockets frantically, only coming up with a single dollar.
"You guys can come over and sleep at my place, if you want." Nathanial volunteered, still holding Wednesday. "I have a guest bedroom and a few air mattresses."
"Is your apartment painted in…pastels?" Morticia asked, almost looking like she would be disgusted at the prospect.
Nathanial shrugged, well, as much as he could shrug with a girl in his arms. "White walls, beige carpet, basic run of the mill apartment."
"It will have to do my love." Gomez said, patting Morticia's pale, spidery hand. "Well, until you manage to redecorate the place."