Work Text:
Enid sat in a chair on Wednesday’s side of the room while her roommate dabbed at a large gash behind the blonde’s right shoulder. She hadn’t wanted to get blood on her things, so Wednesday offered this alternative saying that werewolf blood would spice up her decor.
Enid had gotten those wounds hours earlier when saving Wednesday from the Hyde. From Tyler. She couldn’t believe the monster was him of all people. Enid barely knew him, but after all the time Wednesday spent with him, even she felt betrayed by extension. Still, she couldn’t help but feel pity for him after Wednesday explained Ms. Thornhill’s —Laurel’s— involvement. And that felt like an even bigger betrayal.
With Laurel and Tyler in custody and Crackstone dead (again), Enid hoped things would return to normal. The first part of the school year had been pretty uneventful, which made it easier for Enid to enjoy herself socially. Looming danger really puts a damper on things.
She winced again. Okay, maybe she didn’t pity Tyler that much.
“Stop moving,” said Wednesday. “I won’t tell you again.”
“What do you expect? Rubbing alcohol burns like hell.”
“I know. That’s the best part.”
Enid sighed. This whole thing seemed unnecessary, given that Enid was a werewolf and that Wednesday was also injured, having taken an arrow to the shoulder. Almost unsurprisingly, Wednesday showed no outward signs of discomfort despite moving both arms continuously. Enid would never have known if Xavier hadn’t told her. Still, she felt oddly flattered that Wednesday would go through all this trouble.
There was no noise in the room as she worked, not even from Thing. He had to be around but Enid didn’t know where. The silence made Enid increasingly uncomfortable the longer it went on. Surely Wednesday was fine.
“Thank you, again,” blurted Enid. “I’ll probably heal up in no time anyway but this is really nice of you, Wednesday.”
The raven-haired girl stayed silent for another moment, wiping along smaller cuts here and there with smooth, repetitive motions. Enid noticed she only moved the gauze in one direction. She wondered if it was about technique, or just another quirk of Wednesday’s.
Eventually she answered. “You already thanked me before I started. You don’t have to keep doing it. Besides, we don’t yet know how bites and scratches from a Hyde affect people, since most victims don’t survive. It’s a precaution, not a birthday present.”
Enid thought about Eugene, who was out of the hospital now. So far he seemed okay. It was unlikely that the Hyde was venomous, or had any other abilities beyond its size and strength that could cause any lasting effects, but she didn't tell Wednesday that. Instead she kept quiet and allowed her friend to do something nice for her. This was Wednesday, after all. It didn't happen often.
“Still,” said Enid. “I appreciate the ‘better safe than sorry’ approach.”
Wednesday hummed in acknowledgement. Enid watched her as she unwrapped two adhesive bandages and set them over the deepest cuts. The way she handled them caused Enid to shiver. She’d have never guessed it, but Wednesday could be incredibly gentle when she wanted.
“Done,” declared Wednesday, pulling back to admire her handiwork.
Enid smiled happily and reached forward for a hug, ignoring the ache in her shoulders. Wednesday flinched immediately. Enid’s face fell.
“Uh, right,” she mumbled awkwardly. “No hugs unless right after a near-death experience.”
Wednesday stared at her for a moment, and then started to pack up her supplies. Enid thought she’d been using a first-aid kit, but looking at it now the small box also held dangerous looking tools and a set of matches. She decided she didn’t want to know.
“For future reference,” said Wednesday, “should you do this for someone else, I advise you to use soap and water instead.”
Enid gave her roommate an incredulous look. “So you’re saying I could’ve avoided this? I already did that in the shower!”
“Rubbing alcohol is a powerful disinfectant and therefore favorable for cleaning wounds, but it can also cause tissue damage. In your case, werewolf physiology should take care of it. Regardless, you can’t see your own back. Better that I did it for you.”
Enid nodded in concession.
Wednesday stowed the box under her bed and then sat on it, staring at the floor. That was normal for her, to suddenly ruminate in silence without warning. What happened next was certainly not normal.
"I'm sorry, Enid."
Enid recoiled, sliding the chair back a few inches. Maybe she was finally going crazy after all that happened. She could’ve sworn she heard an apology.
"What?"
Wednesday's brow furrowed.
"I didn't expect we'd be attacked at the Gates house, but my lack of forethought put you in unnecessary danger. You were right to be upset. It was a mistake."
It was Enid’s turn to do something uncharacteristic, and she stayed silent. The shock of Wednesday’s apology was a lot to process.
“You were in danger tonight as well because of your proximity to me,” Wednesday continued. “I didn’t mean for that to happen this time either, but you could have been killed. I know you must be upset.”
Enid chuckled before she could stop herself, and it tumbled into full blown laughter that eventually trailed off in a fit of giggles. Thing had been right; her roommate was incredibly dense sometimes.
Wednesday gave her an annoyed look. “Why are you laughing?”
Enid sat next to her on the bed about a foot away. Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t seem bothered by it.
“I wasn’t upset because I was in danger,” explained Enid. “Well, actually, that is part of it. But what really hurt was how flippant you were about it. Like you just didn’t care.”
“My vocabulary is finally rubbing off on you,” Wednesday deflected. Enid was used to it and didn’t take the bait.
“I know you did care, but you cared more about your investigation than about hurting your friends. And you manipulated me when you didn’t even have to! That’s what made me so upset.”
“I did have to. You were hysterical even before we got attacked at the house. You would never have agreed to go if you knew what I was planning. You’re very obviously put off by the majority of my interests.”
“That’s not true!” Enid exclaimed. Wednesday stared, eyebrow raised. “Okay, fine, that’s true. But it still doesn’t feel good to be lied to.”
Wednesday nodded, internalizing her answer. “I don’t enjoy lying. I find it a cheap tactic. Not my finest moment.”
“True. But I’m not upset right now. You were the one in danger tonight and this time I chose to help. That’s what friends are for, and we’re friends, aren’t we?”
Enid wiggled her eyebrows expectantly, enjoying messing with Wednesday. No longer was she unsure about how her roommate regarded her, and now was happy to help poke her out of her shell without worry. They’d come a long way from bickering about stupid things, so Enid figured it must be working at least a little.
Wednesday took a long time to answer, but she did.
“Yes, Enid. We are friends.”
Enid beamed and failed to suppress a gleeful squeal.
“Thing, are you there?” she called out to the room. “I just want to make sure you heard that too!”
The fast, rumbling patter of fingers sounded off and a moment later he appeared from under Wednesday’s bed. Enid waved. He gave her a thumb up.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” said Wednesday flatly. “I have other friends.”
Enid gasped in theatrically scandalized fashion, betrayed by the giant smile on her face. “Wonderful character development. We love to see it.”
Wednesday ignored them and strode over to her closet to retrieve a towel that was as black as everything else in there.
“I’m going to take a long, scalding shower,” she announced. “Thing, make sure she gets rest. If I come back and find you giving each other manicures, I’m drugging you both.”
Thing waved at Wednesday, but got a look of distrust in return. Enid rolled her eyes fondly.
The sounds of distant howling came through the window. It used to fill Enid with anxiety, but now she felt relief mixed with a bit of indignation. She was happy that she had finally turned; now she didn’t have to feel like something was wrong with her. But she resented that she’d been made to feel that way in the first place. Recently though, she’d found a new wave of confidence and acceptance in herself that, in a weird way, she had Wednesday to thank for. Wednesday was the catalyst for a lot of things lately.
Wednesday noticed the howling as well, and looked back at Enid as she opened the door. Her expression was imperceptible. Enid nervously held her gaze.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For being there.”
Wednesday left, not waiting for an answer.
Enid smiled and answered anyway.
“You’re welcome.”