12 Omega

They fell into easy conversation, losing track of time as the moon rose overhead. It wasn't until Ezra heard the distant howl of a wolf that he realized how late it had gotten.

"Shouldn't you be wolfing out with the rest of the pack tonight?" he asked Enid.

Her smile faded and she averted her eyes. "No, I...I don't really do that."

"Why not?" Ezra prodded gently. When she didn't respond, he added, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Enid sighed, idly shredding a blade of grass between her fingers. "I'm kind of a late bloomer when it comes to my wolf abilities. I only have the claws right now. The rest...hasn't happened yet."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Ezra said reassuringly. "Everyone develops at their own pace."

"Try telling that to the pack," Enid said with a bitter edge to her voice. "Wolves are supposed to transform by a certain age. Those who don't..." She trailed off, her eyes glistening.

Ezra had a feeling he knew what she was going to say. His heart ached for her. No one should be made to feel ashamed or excluded for something out of their control.

"Have you talked to anyone who could help?" he asked. "An expert on these things?"

Enid nodded, swiping quickly at a tear. "I saw a lycanologist in Milwaukee. He's the best there is. But he said..." Her voice caught and she took a shaky breath before continuing. "He said I may never fully transform. That I'll always be stuck halfway."

The tears fell in earnest now. Ezra wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

"If that happens, it doesn't change who you are," he said firmly. "Wolf or not, you're amazing exactly as you are. I've never met anyone so smart, funny and kind. Any pack would be lucky to have you."

Enid let out a watery laugh against his shoulder. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Ezra said without hesitation.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Enid tucked against Ezra's side as she composed herself. When she finally drew back, the tears had stopped, though her eyes were still puffy and red.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm really glad you're here, Ezra."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Anytime."

Above them, the moon shone brightly between the branches of the oak tree, bathing everything in a serene glow. For just a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving nothing but the two of them together under the starry sky.

Enid stretched her arms above her head. "It's getting late. We should head back soon before they lock the quad gates."

"Right, don't want to get trapped out here all night," Ezra said, though part of him wished they could stay under the stars talking for a while longer.

Enid stood, brushing grass from her skirt. She extended a hand to Ezra. He let her pull him to his feet, acutely aware of her soft hand in his.

They walked slowly back towards the looming castle, neither eager for the night to end. Their hands swung between them, fingers occasionally brushing. Ezra glanced at Enid's profile in the moonlight, her eyes bright with laughter. His heart did a little flip.

Too soon, they reached the heavy wooden doors leading inside. Enid turned to him, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I had a really nice time tonight," she said softly.

"Me too," Ezra replied, holding her gaze. "Thanks for keeping me company."

"Anytime." Enid smiled. She stepped closer, going up on her toes to briefly press her lips to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Ezra," she whispered, before slipping through the doors.

Ezra stood frozen, hand touching his cheek where Enid's kiss lingered. A grin spread across his face.

"Goodnight, Enid," he murmured into the darkness.

 ...

Under the shroud of dusk, Wednesday Addams perched on her veranda, a lone figure outlined against the starless expanse. Her cello leaned against her, its strings echoing the mournful strains of "Paint it, Black." The notes entwined around her like ghosts, their haunting melody a reflection of her tumultuous thoughts. Her day had been punctuated by unusual encounters and puzzling mysteries - foremost among them, Ezra Bishop.

Earlier that day, she'd found Thing hiding beneath the blankets of her bed. The disembodied hand had been a dedicated companion to the Addams family for generations, and his presence now functioned as a useful servant. A spark had flashed in her dark eyes as she made Thing pledge allegiance to her.

Yet, even Thing's antics couldn't completely disperse the whirlwind of thoughts that swirled within Wednesday's mind. A planned therapy meeting with Dr. Valerie Kinbott came after that, and typically, she would have utilized the opportunity to enact her well-conceived getaway plan. However, the enigma that was Ezra Bishop dominated her thoughts, leaving no space for escapades.

Dr. Kinbott's therapy area was a comforting mix of warm hues and soft furnishings, but Wednesday found herself barely noticing the surroundings. Instead, she found herself replying to questions mechanically while her mind kept replaying snippets of her talk with Ezra. His admission about being a wizard was unbelievable to say the least but the facts added up.

After the therapy meeting ended uneventfully - an oddity in itself - Wednesday found herself accompanying Principal Weems at Weathervane cafe. Hot chocolate was ordered and brought by a barista who had tried to strike up a chat but Wednesday barely noticed him. Her gaze remained unfocused, her thoughts far away.

As they made their way back to Nevermore, Principal Weems offered her advice that sounded suspiciously like an order. "Wednesday, you need to make companions here. Trust me." For a moment, Wednesday's mind strayed to Ezra. But she promptly cleared her mind.

Now, back on her porch, the final note of "Paint it, Black" hung in the air like an incomplete sentence. Thing began to tap his fingers, his peculiar method of communication. Wednesday's brow furrowed as she deciphered his message.

"No," she replied aloud, her voice stoic . "I don't really feel better. There's just something wrong about this place. Not just because it's a school." 

Thing tapped his fingers again.

"What does he have to do with any of this?" she asked rhetorically. "He is merely a puzzle I wish to solve. That's all."

But even as she voiced these words, a fleeting image crossed her mind - that of Ezra's hand touching hers and the vision it had triggered. She shook her head slightly, as if physically trying to clear her thoughts.

"Yes, that's all," she murmured into the quiet night.

...

[A/N: If you like the story so far feel free to give a review and throw some powerstones my way!]