I'm having fun with it. I honestly don't ship Wednesday with anyone, but I decided to give it a go anyways lol. Don't ask about my logic lol.
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Xavier ran to his room in Nevermore. Thanks to Thing, he had been freed from the police car he had been left unsupervised in. He had been chained and helpless while the hyde-who was apparently Tyler-was rampaging in the same woods. Not only had that been careless of Tyler's father, the officer, but it had also been dangerous. Not able to defend himself, Xavier knew that he was a sitting duck and an easy target for the monster to kill. Especially since he already had bad blood with Tyler and was no longer needed to be framed since the monster's true identity had been revealed.
He slammed his bedroom door shut, fumbling to take his prison clothes off him. It still reeked of damp and mold as if merely the sight of them were suffocating enough. Once they were off him, he shoved them under the bed so he wouldn't look at them. He then ran to his closet where grabbed random clothes to throw on. It was lucky that he mainly wore shirts that could go with almost anything, otherwise, he probably would have ended up in a ridiculous outfit that didn't match. Not that he particularly cared to begin with.
Once he shoved his feet into a pair of shoes, his hands no longer had anything to do. It was then when he realized how badly he was actually shaking. He ran his hands through his hairs in hope that the action would soothe and calm him down.
He mentally scolded himself. It was not the time to fall into a panic and it definitely wasn't the time to let his emotions control him. He had already lost his temper and shouted at Wednesday. It didn't matter if she deserved it or not, she genuinely needed his help and had let go enough of her pride to ask him. He shouldn't have been so caught up in himself and forget that the hyde was not just a threat to him and Wednesday, but all of Nevermore.
Well done Xavier. You went and messed up again. No wonder you're alone again…
He shook his head. No. Thing had rescued him, so he wasn't alone. Wednesday apologized too. He wasn't certain if their friendship could be mended completely, but as much as he tried to tell himself that he hated her, the more he knew that was a lie. For some reason, he still cared deeply for her and he just could not change that no matter how much he would rather just hate her. It would be so much easier if he did and he wouldn't be hurt by her again and again.
Xavier looked over, his bow and arrow entering his view. For a moment, his body stilled and his breathing began to even. He knew what he needed to do. He would not hide in his room when his friends and Nevermore were in danger. He would not make the mistake of losing himself again just to wallow in emotions he just did not want to feel. He wasn't capable of figuring them out on his own, so he shoved them aside. It was a great thing to pull out in his next emergency therapy session.
Moving as fast as possible, he grabbed his weapon and swung his door open. Not even bothering to close it, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He wasn’t sure where his plan was or what he was going to do. The only thing he could do was react as he went.
It honestly wasn’t hard to find the commotion. There were shouts and screams and a fire. If that didn’t scream catastrophe, he didn’t know what did. So he ran towards it, forgetting any thoughts of self preservation. They needed him.
When he finally reached it, he whipped out his bow and arrow. He wasn’t about to rush into a battlefield and not know what was going on and where the enemies were. Peeking out, he soaked in the yard that was bathed in flames. But all he could see was a pilgrim and Wednesday about to take each other out. His body moved faster than he could register anything else.
“Stay away from her!” he shouted.
The two whirled around to look at him as the arrow released from his grip. The arrow was faithful and plunged towards its target only to stop before it hit. Xavier’s eyes widened as his arms slowly fell, unsure how to react. All he could do was watch as the arrow slowly began to turn around and point directly at him. Then the pilgrim released it and zipped straight towards him.
Suddenly, Wednesday jumped in the arrow’s path, taking the hit. She was thrown off her feet as the weapon embedded into her shoulder. Her body rolled before falling limp.
“No…” Xavier felt as if his world stopped. This was his fault wasn’t it? He only wanted to help and all he did was somehow manage to get Wednesday shot. It didn’t matter how much anger he had felt for her, he’d never want to hurt her. But how could he know that the pilgrim could change the course of his arrow.
The groan that escaped Wednesday’s lips forced him back into reality. She was alive. Dazed and bleeding, but alive. That was all he needed to know. His eyes shot back up to the pilgrim, giving him a death glare that even Wednesday could be secretly impressed by.
He still didn’t have any plans. In fact, all he could think to do was charge the enemy that had looked more like a corpse than anything. Xavier couldn’t shoot him because that had gone terribly wrong when he tried it. His next move was to raise his bow above his head and aim to slam it against his target.
The Pilgrim merely held his hand out, hitting Xavier with a force he didn’t expect. He should have, but it didn’t change the fact that he was practically thrown across the field until his back slammed into the fountain. His breath was sucked out of his chest from the impact, making for him to regain his footing. He rolled onto his stomach, using his arms to push himself up.
Unfortunately he couldn’t react fast enough and all he could feel was the crushing weight, pushing him down. It took everything in him not to fall unconscious. He managed to look up in time for the Pilgrim to stop as he let out a blood chilling scream as he threw Wednesday off his back. She had snuck up behind their enemy while he had been distracted with Xavier and had stabbed him with a broken shard to her sword.
Xavier heard her yelp as she hit the ground. He used the opportunity to make the same move on the pilgrim. While the enemy was composing himself, Xavier picked up one of his arrows and jumped up. He thrusted it into the pilgrim’s chest, twisting it to make it more effective. Pilgrim hit him hard on the head, making Xavier fall back.
The screams of pain erupted from the pilgrim’s throat. He stumbled back as his body began to disintegrate into flames that appeared to come from within. And just like that, the threat was gone.
Letting out a shaky breath, Xavier rolled over onto his stomach. Wednesday was in his line of sight. He used what little strength he had to crawl over to her and collapse next to her. “Are you ok?” he rasped out, sounding more like a whisper.
Despite the pain she was in, she somehow managed to give him her classic deadpan face. It was almost as if she was daring him to ask that question again. After all, she did just have an arrow sticking out of her shoulder moments prior.
“You’re bleeding,” she said at last.
Laughing felt like the wrong reaction, but he couldn’t help but give a small chuckle before he rolled onto his back. His eyes looked up at the starry night sky that was covered in smoke. “You should look in the mirror.”
He ran a hand through his hair. He felt something warm and wet. So it was his head that was bleeding. Not usually a good thing, but he honestly didn’t feel like he could worry about it at that moment. Not after what just happened.
“I thought we were supposed to be battling a monster, not a walking corpse,” he mumbled.
“A lot happened,” she retorted.
“I can tell…” Xavier felt his eyes growing heavy. He blinked, trying to keep consciousness.
“Xavier.” Wednesday’s voice came out harsh, making him flinch. “Don’t close your eyes.”
“I’m just blinking… they feel so heavy.” He felt guilt in his stomach. He should be the one worried about her. She got shot with his arrow and here she was worried about him because he hit his head. She sure did make it difficult for him to be mad at her, because he couldn’t even bring himself to remember how mad he was earlier. Or maybe it was the hit on his head that was making him lose his memory. No, that would be a Soap Opera episode.
“Idiot,” she muttered, getting herself into a sitting position. She began to pull him so he could sit up.
“I got it,” he cut her off. He pulled himself up with difficulty and leaned his back against the fountain. The last thing he wanted was for her to assert herself.
She stared at him for a moment. “You know, most people would settle for a thank you,” she said.
He looked at her. He snorted as his smirk betrayed him. The irony was rather funny. Especially when it came from her. “My apologies, Miss Addams. I hope you accept my thanks.”
Wednesday merely cast him an unimpressed glare. Maybe his comedic timing needed work, but, hey, something he would worry about in therapy, but not now. He had to focus to stay awake, and if poorly timed jokes were the only thing that kept his eyes open, then he would do just that.