บท 37: Bonding
Looking around, Morticia instantly knew where she was.
The smell of old books, along with the slightly stale air that accompanies any room with only passable ventilation were clear indicators, even before she was able to stop her head from spinning.
She stood still, with Gomez arms wrapped around her waist from her side. His customary position.
And on the ground in front of them was Pugsley, with a look of absentmindedness, as if he did not yet know which way was up.
The meeting room of her nightshade society had not changed much at all.
In fact, the only thing that might have been slightly different were the additional pictures on the wall.
Especially hers and Gomez's.
Though, it was only natural.
There time spent at Nevermore was filled with accomplishments and accolades. It truly was a time of great success.
However, there was one small snafu.
A snafu that would entail the very reason behind why she and her family now found themselves whisked away from the banquet and deposited in this hidden chamber.
A normie would not know of its existence.
Returning to Nevermore had been a calculated risk, that was likely to involve question that were difficult to answer.
However, attending the academy was the best option. The best option for Wednesday.
That is why, when the doors were flung open and Morticia quickly took in the self-satisfied look on the face of the sheriff, she knew that it was finally time to pay her due.
Or at least, answer some questions.
Questions that would no doubt be asked by her lovely daughter.
Ones that she did not want to answer. But sometimes one does not have the option to choose the favorable choice.
What she did not expect was the presence of the incredibly charming young man...old man...un-aging man, that took it upon himself to court her daughter.
His looks, with that face of his. His style, with those clothes of his. His presence, with that aura of his, lets everyone who looks upon him know, he is surely built different.
If it were not for the fact that her Gomez were so stunning in his own right, she might have felt jealous of her daughter for being able to ensnare such a catch.
But, there was no jealously. Only contentment.
Her daughter had found someone to cherish, along with someone who cherishes her.
There was nothing more to be asked from any relationship.
The looks, style, and power that seemed to simply waft off of him in droves, were just a bonus. . . A delicious bonus.
Wednesday watched as her family reoriented themselves with the quick return of light and the involuntary movement.
She did not stumble nor sway. She was already used to the way that her Vlad preferred to travel.
However, that still did not stop the small smile of self-satisfaction that managed to spread on her lips as she watched from her stable footing as they fumbled.
Say what you will about whatever, it would always feel good to get one over on her parents. Of that she was certain.
However, fun and games like watching her parents make fools of themselves could wait for another day. For now, she had answers to acquire and the ones who could give them to her were now looking right at her.
'Options, options. Should I begin with a threat? Perhaps an ultimatum? Tell me what I want to know or be thrown out a window. Hmmm. Best to keep it simple.'
"Father, you are accused of murder and the sheriff seems to want to make good on his unfinished business. Explain."
Yes, simple is usually the best option.
"Ah," Her father starts out with an overly dramatic sigh. "So it has finally come, Tish." He said as he moved his hands from her mother's waist to her hands.
They looked into one another's eyes. Communicating in a way that only those incredibly familiar with each other could accomplish. No where near as efficient as simply being able to speak with telepathy.
They appeared to reach an agreement or understanding.
Though, when the story began, it was not her father who was speaking.
"It all started with a boy named Garett Gates. He was in love with me. A love that I did not reciprocate. And that did not sit well with Garett." My mother began her story as my father comforted her and Pugsley roamed around the room touching books.
Her story sounded truthful. Eyes, rate of speaking, heart beat, I could not spot a single tell.
It centered around the boy, Garett, taking the infatuation he had with my mother and veering off into the realm of unrequited obsession. Not a good place to be, unless you're prepared to involve kidnapping and a basement into the equation. And from the sounds of it, Garett was not too far off.
He barged into the academy, the night of a dance, while my mother and father had snuck off to finally take their displays of passion to a place where no one was watching.
However, Garett found them. A Garett who was out for blood.
It came down to a duel.
Fist against fist. Sword against sword.
By the end of it, the boy was so far gone, he was foaming at the mouth. Irregular.
Though, it all came to a head, with the actions of my mother.
After my father once again attempted to repel the charging Garett, the matter had already become irreversible. He was too far gone and did not want to stop until only one of them was left breathing. When my mother panicked and picked up the sword that Garett walked right into, without stopping until it was a few inches deep in his gut, I could not help but mentally applaud her actions.
Sure, it was an accident, however that does not change the fact that when it comes down to it, my mother killed for my father.
And my father, well.
After my mother allowed Garett to walk into the sword, she removed it, which resulted in Garett being sent backwards and over the edge of ledge they were on. It was the scream from down below that more than likely snapped my father out of his stupor.
However, when he did snap out, he immediately took the sword from my mother's hand, and made his way to the edge. To be seen in clear view holding the murder weapon. A worthy partner, as expected.
I will be the first to admit, my parents repel me. With all of their lovey-dovey displays and manipulations in their attempts to get me to follow in their footsteps. Despite that, I can also say that, the partnership that share. The trust. Is........acknowledgeable.
Now, the question is, if Garett died, and my father was seen holding the murder weapon, why was he let go?
There is clearly more to the case than a simple altercation that resulted in death.
But what? Its obvious.
"Mother, you said that he had dilated pupils and was foaming at the mouth?" I asked.
"Yes, that's right." She responded.
"Well, what are those symptoms of, coupled with the loss of mental faculties?"
'I could practically hear the wheels spinning in her mind. Her brilliant mind. A worthy adversary. Ah, looks like she's got it.'
Morticia quickly takes in Wednesday, her eyes wide. "But how could that be?"
Wednesday once again dons an involuntary grin, filled with self-satisfaction. "There's only one way to find out. We're going grave digging."
Immediately, expressions of joy are etched onto the faces of her family members.
It had been too long since they had a good family bonding session.
.
.
(A/N: Additional Chaps are on Patreon.com/TheGreatestHunter . Check it out. Do it. Now.)
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