Work Text:
Xavier Thorpe
When Xavier had given Wednesday the slim black device on the last day of school, aka the brand new phone, he had never expected her to use it. Hoped, yes certainly, but expected, not in a million years. He knew better than anyone else that Wednesday had a strict aversion to technology, but he had certainly hoped she would come around and maybe text him hi once in a while.
He, like a lunatic, of course, frequently texted her. He texted her day and night. Most of it was random stuff: like a Good morning, or How’s your day going. Sometimes - albeit, rarely - it was even sickly sweet things, such as Have sweet nightmares at the end of the day. He still cringed internally when he thought back to that night. Only the Gods knew what had possessed him to send her that message. And even though she never replied, seeing the message read tick appear beside his text made his heart race like crazy and never failed to leave him with a grin like his sweetest dream had come to fruition. Which, of course, it had.
Which was why when she texted him out of nowhere, he was stumped for a hot second. He was in the middle of painting a mural for the paediatric wing in Mount Sinai Hospital when his phone dinged once, and then a second time. And then a third time in continuity.
He knew no one of that importance who would text him with such urgency. Except maybe his father. But when it came to his father, he was often the last on the list of people to contact.
He placed his brush down, attempting to rub some of the blue paint coating his fingers on his trousers, but it was a hopeless mission. His phone already had several streaks of paint from the prior days. He could only wait till he reached home and cleaned it then.
Pulling out his phone, he had first expected a text from either Ajax or one of his many other classmates. Truth be told, he wasn’t that close to many people, preferring solitude and isolation over constant companionship. On the other hand, Ajax, his best friend from childhood, was a busybody and people person, preferring to constantly surround himself with his kin and many others.
“…” His breath caught in his chest, and he nearly dropped the bucket of paint that he was holding in his left hand.
Message from Wednesday appeared on the top of his lock screen.
He rapidly blinked several times as he tried to process what was displayed on his phone, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
“Fuck me…” He cursed in astonishment as his fingers moved on their own accord, swiping up to open the text he had just received.
Wednesday: Have you seen this?
The was a link to a New York Times article below her message. He sighed as he perused the contents. The link brought him to an article that was recently published, which revealed that an alarming number of dead bodies were found in the streets of New York.
Fantastic, yet another murder mystery
Wednesday: How could you not tell me that there was a serial killer in New York?
Xavier’s eyes furrowed. He scanned the article searching for any news about a loose serial killer, but failed to find any.
Wednesday: I am coming to New York.
The third message sent him spinning.
What did she mean she was coming to New York?
To do what? Find the serial killer?
But the police hadn’t even revealed anything about a serial killer. They hadn’t even said anything about the murders being connected.
What was she even going to achieve by coming to New York?
New York on its own was huge…Was she going to drag him into yet another murder investigation?
From the way things were going, the answer appeared to be a yes…she certainly was.
Xavier: Wednesday…there is no proof the murders are connected.
His reply felt lame even to his ears. It was a weak attempt to dissuade her, and he knew that well.
Wednesday: Are you questioning my analytical skills? I am 100% sure they are all connected. More than six bodies found in a week…who else could it be?
A tortured sigh escaped Xavier’s lips.
He was already exhausted. He should have known better than to argue with her. She was as stubborn as a bull.
He scrunched his brows and looked at the mural.
Xavier: When are you coming to New York?
Wednesday: Not to sound dramatic, but this Wednesday...it is when Lurch is free to drive me to New York.
Of course, she was coming on a Wednesday.
That gave him under 48 hours to finish the mural. He sighed, he would need at least two more cups of coffee to survive this…and to survive her.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.
Xavier: Where are you planning to stay?
Wednesday: I was planning on booking a hotel for the duration of my stay.
That should have been an obvious answer.
Xavier: The investigation could take weeks…
Wednesday: Are you once again doubting my skills?
Wednesday: Especially after everything that happened last semester at Nevermore…
Xavier chuckled. Nothing pushed her buttons like stupid questions.
Xavier: I am just saying, it could get really expensive really fast.
New York wasn’t cheap.
Wednesday: I have money.
It was a simple one-liner, but the casual confidence was a reminder of the several generations of power and wealth that coursed through the Addams family’s bloodline. They were extremely famous within the supernatural circles, talked about only in hushed whispers. They weren’t like his father, showy and obnoxious. Their words held command, and their money held power. Yet, they had never been one to flaunt their privilege.
Xavier: Or... you could consider staying at my townhouse. I have a spare guest room...
He didn’t just have one, he had several spare rooms. He had taken two for himself - one as a bedroom and the other a mini art studio - but the other rooms remained vividly barren and empty. The townhouse was a gift from his father when he missed Xavier’s tenth birthday. Xavier had spent the day with his nannies, not even crying from the absence of his father’s presence. In return, to make up for it, his father had gifted him a house, told him it was in his name, and he could do whatever he wanted with it.
One might wonder what kind of father would gift a ten-year-old a house, but that had always been the case with Vincent Thorpe. Missed his middle school graduation…a new Lamborghini was standing in his driveway the next day, even though Xavier wasn't even old enough to drive. Missed his first art exhibition…a private island in Greece was waiting for him. He could list on and on about the things his father had gifted him in an attempt to look like a good father.
Xavier: It would save you some coins. And you could use my help from time to time for the investigation as well.
There was a long pause on her end, and Xavier almost winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested that she stay over at his place. It was entirely too presumptuous.
Wednesday: You won’t hinder my investigation?
“Yes!” Xavier hissed out in disbelief. Was she considering it, considering staying over at his place? Xavier’s fingers shook as he typed a quick of course not in reply back to her.
Wednesday: Fine, then I will be there bright and early on Wednesday morning.
His hands curled into victorious fists as he bit his lips to stop the grin from completely overtaking his face.
"Ah, shit I need to order a bed!"