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Guilt Trip
Let's be honest. Emotions were never Wednesday's forte. She herself had about enough compassion and empathy together to fill a thimble, and even less patience. But after half a semester at Nevermore Academy, she had to admit that emotion often led her to the very heart of the most gruesome and interesting mysteries. Or it would have been interesting, if she hadn't already figured this one out.
Take Sheriff Galpin. This was his eighth phone call in as many days trying to convince her to come back early before the fall semester started up again. Tyler, unsurprisingly, was not improving through confinement and medical experimentation. But explaining that a hyde could not function without a master was no deterrent for the sheriff. He was determined beyond all reason to help his son in some desperate attempt to make up for past neglect.
It was sickening. And not in the fun, smelling-your-first-decomposing-body type of way.
The landline crackled with static as the sheriff blew out yet another exasperated sigh. "Wednesday, I know we've had our differences, but-"
"If by differences you mean thwarting my investigation last semester at almost every turn and indirectly causing the deaths of innocents in this town, then yes. We absolutely have had our differences," she said flatly.
"Since when do you care about innocent people dying?"
She sighed. Having to explain it proved how dense he really was. "First and foremost, I care about uncovering the truth. Second, I don't appreciate being a pawn or a patsy in someone else's game, and I was both. Third, needless death is sloppy and an amateur's game. Precision is for the master."
He really was a hammer to whom everything appeared as a nail. And she preferred a scalpel.
'Fine, fine," he conceded, "What's it going to take, Wednesday? Cut it out of him with your precision, then. Cut it out of him like the cancer it is. I just need it gone. I need my boy back."
"You can't just cut out someone's mutagenic powers." If such a thing were possible, she thought, no outcast in the world would be safe. "You have to find the hyde a new master to serve or it will turn rabid and never morph back into-"
"I know," the sheriff cut her off, "I know. I read Faulkner's journal and found the part that mentioned how the hyde was triggered by a traumatic event. I knew it was learning about the death of his mother and what she really was. She was the one person who could have helped him through this, and when I finally tried talking about her all it did was make things worse."
Wednesday rolled her eyes. "That's because the hyde does not trust you. And it doesn't trust you because you concealed the truth from Tyler. "
"It may be a hyde you see, but I know my boy is in there. I just…" he paused. "Look, I know he and I haven't been close since his mom died, but I'm trying to make up for lost time now."
"Trying to make up for lost time?" she echoed incredulously. "No, you're trying to absolve yourself of what you've done, and I'm not interested in helping to rid you of a guilty conscience. Quite frankly, you deserve to feel the consequences of your actions."
"I'm trying my best to get him to understand he can trust me again! Don't you see?" Sheriff Galpin's voice rose angrily.
"And I'm trying to tell you that you're too late," she fired back. "The hyde will never trust you because you betrayed Tyler. In more ways than one. You kept his mother's true nature a secret his whole life, you emotionally abandoned him as a father, you refused to confront him even after you knew he was the hyde butchering people out in the woods, and you sent him away to a medical institution to try to rip out the half of him that is now the hyde, while trying to connect over the very thing that caused him to transition in the first place. Is it really so surprising that all you're doing is making things worse? The hyde will go feral before you gain any ground," she took a breath and exhaled. "So. Why don't we stop beating around the bush and just get to the part where you beg me to help. Again."
There was another long pause, almost long enough for her to wonder if he'd just hung up out of spite. But when the sheriff spoke again, a weight dragged his voice to a low and mournful depth.
"You've said I don't deserve your help. And you're right," he conceded in a rare admission. "But answer me this, Wednesday: did Tyler deserve any of this? Did he deserve to be forcefully transitioned and manipulated, also used as a pawn and patsy in someone's greater game and then discarded? If you refuse to help and Tyler escapes…when he escapes…every person he kills will be on your conscience. Their blood will be on your hands, because you had the power to help and chose to turn away."
For once, this circular conversation gave her pause. Wednesday should have guessed the sheriff would shirk his own responsibilities and dump his troubles onto her doorstep again. And while the idea of people dying never perturbed her, it was uncomfortable to think of all the permutations that could unfold if Tyler escaped, which was not outside the realm of possibility. Without a new master's guiding hand, the hyde would avenge its previous master. To the death. And it would likely start by ravaging Nevermore. Enid, Bianca, Eugene, and Xavier all had pivotal roles in thwarting Laurel's plan and would likely be targeted as retribution.
Wednesday couldn't let that happen - she had a winning streak to protect now. And perhaps a few peers to protect from the jaws of an unruly hyde. After that, her work was done and she could continue on with her stalker investigation.
"Fine," she grudgingly accepted. "But I'll need some materials and an offering."
"You'll…you'll do it?" he sounded shocked.
"I'm feeling charitable today," she replied.
The sound of an engine started in the background. "I'll take it. I'm on my way."
"Not at the Addams Estate," she halted him. "Your house. Tomorrow. Midnight."
.•*´¨`*•.