The amount of time that passed by so quickly still had Xavier shocked. It was almost as if the world stopped moving but everything was just speeding by. He could barely remember what was said at his principal's funeral. Honestly he couldn’t remember much of anything after his fight with the Pilgrim. Apparently he had fallen unconscious despite his efforts, but he was lucky and the concussion was only mild and no permanent damage had taken place.
He had met with Wednesday afterwards. Even if he didn’t know how to feel about her, it didn’t change the fact that she was willing to take an arrow in his stead. She could have easily died pulling that stunt, but it was Wednesday it would take far more than a stab and an arrow to get her down. Apparently it only took a concussion to take him out though.
“I heard you're free man now.”
Her voice echoed in his brain as he leaned his head against the car window.
“Yep…” He nodded, pressing his lips tightly together. “All charges dismissed…” He took a deep breath. “Listen.. When I was in the cell, I said a lot of… things. Being your friend should come with a warning label, but I don’t know a lot of people who would take an arrow for me. So… welcome to the twenty-first century, Addams.”
He handed her a black box with a ribbon. She looked at him with her regular deadpanned eyes before opening it and revealing the phone inside. Her eyes met his again and he passed her a thin smile.
“My number’s in there already.”
“That’s a bold move.” She put the lid on. “Hope you're not expecting me to call you.”
“No. Never.” Xavier looked down, shaking his head, repressing his grin. He looked her dead in the eyes. “I’d settle for a text though… you know what a text is, right?”
“Goodbye, Xavier.”
He wasn’t certain if his teasing made her walk away, or if she was actually touched by the gift. But she was always a mystery and a puzzle to him. One he had desperately wished to solve, but now, he just wanted to fix the broken relationship. Wednesday was a puzzle that could only be put together with the pieces she gave. No one could find them. They had to be revealed and she was slowly showing new ones as time went on.
The rain hitting the car windows only made him think about her more. She appreciated dreary weather far more than the sunny days. So he glanced at his phone. He didn’t expect a text, especially one so soon. Sure enough, she hadn’t sent anything. Xavier began to debate if he should just send her a random gif to annoy her and see if he could get a reaction. But then he decided that it would be better if she reached out to him. The last thing he wanted to do would be to accidentally overstep his boundaries and ruin the new foundation that they were setting.
His eyes drifted towards the driver. It must have been a new one because he didn’t recognize him. He could try to make conversation with him, but he honestly didn’t want to bother. Of course his father had been too busy to come pick him up himself. Even if Xavier almost died and his father still sent a stranger to get him. No text. No call. Nothing.
Just thinking about his father gave him an overwhelming feeling. A feeling that made him want to throw things and just scream with utter rage. Rage that he had to bury deep within himself. He had enough slip up outbursts that week already anyways. He didn’t need another one to add to his list to be disappointed in himself about. Seriously. How hard was it to keep it together without the expense of people around him?
The ride felt like it lasted far longer than it actually was. The car pulled up the long driveway, in front of a large house. Xavier barely waited until the driver stopped before he swung the door and stepped out. He slammed it shut, giving him an odd sense of relief. Maybe he should do it a little more. It always felt like it gave the point his words never seemed to give.
He gripped his backpack on his shoulder and began to walk towards the door. If he was right, his father wouldn't even be in the house, but he did want to see. Grabbing the door knocker, he knocked against the black door. Then he waited for it to be answered. Sure enough, a servant did, and one he wasn’t able to remember either. But she seemed to know exactly who he was.
Xavier walked inside. “Is my father away?”
“He’s out of the country,” she stated.
He clenched his fists. “Of course.” Where was he expecting him to be?
“Would you like me to help-”
Xavier didn’t let her finish. He just walked up the stairs to get to his bedroom. He slammed the door shut, making a loud bang. The sound made him wince. He’d have to make sure he didn’t slam the door that hard. He didn’t want to burst any eardrums. There was such a thing as too much angst, although he was sure Wednesday might disagree with him.
He leaned his back against the door, letting out an exasperated sigh. Running his hand through his shoulder length hair, he took a moment to try to think about anything but his father and his near death experiences and his time chained to a wall. He had way too much to catch his therapist up on… They might even need a raise.
A buzz in his back pocket made his eyes snap open. Letting his backpack fall off his shoulder, he pulled his phone out. To his surprise, it was Wednesday. He hadn’t expected her to text him so quickly, or even at all.
Wednesday: Figured it out.
Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle.
Xavier: Was there any question that you wouldn’t? But what exactly is it that you've figured out?
He waited, but she didn’t reply. Shrugging, he set his phone on his bedside table. It was a start. That’s all that mattered. Although it did lift his mood a little. Enough that he left his bedroom to find the art studio his father had let him have a few years prior as a gift. A gift that Xavier always appreciated.
Pulling out an easel, he put canvas on it. He opened up his drawers, pulling out art supplies, not certain which ones he wanted to use yet. With a pencil, he began to sketch out a raven. Why? He didn’t need a reason. It was just what he felt like making.
Was it a good idea to bring it to life inside his house? Probably not his brightest hour, but he had full control. There was no need to worry about any messes or destruction. What mattered was the spark of joy he felt doing it. Now that the monster situation had been handled, he didn’t have the Hyde clouding his brain and hogging his thoughts. At least not in the way it had been before.
“Thorpe…”
He snapped his head back as he looked for who had spoken. To his dismay, there was no one there. It had just been in his head, which didn’t settle him. Of course it could have just been his imagination. Regardless, he shrugged it off, returning to his painting.
The hours passed by slowly. He nibbled on some dinner before locking himself in his room. Checking his phone again, there still wasn’t a reply. He flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He technically wasn’t supposed to look at screens because of his concussion, so it wasn’t like he could watch anything. Or he could go against the doctor’s orders and read, but that didn’t feel as appealing. Deciding that he would just sleep off the rest of the crabby day, he rolled over and turned off the light. Sleep overcame him faster than he expected, but it was welcomed.
“Thorpe…”
Xavier opened his eyes, finding himself in the familiar yard. There was a fountain to his far right. Splotches of grass burning in flames, the orange light bouncing off the walls. Debris was scattered across the court. But what caught his attention was the Pilgrim standing in the center with flames directly behind him.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Xavier was paralyzed. All he could do was stand there and stare at the live corpse in front of him. He watched as the Pilgrim slowly lifted his head, looking him directly in the eyes. A deathly smirk formed across Crackstone’s face, sending chills through Xavier’s spine.
“Thorpe!” Crackstone’s voice almost sounded like a pterodactyl the way he screeched.
Before Xavier could react, the Pilgrim became transparent and rushed at him. The teenager threw his arms over himself as he was hit with nothing.
His eyes snapped open as he gasped. Sweat drenched his forehead and rolled down the back of his neck. But it was cold. When the ringing in his ears subsided, he realized that his phone was buzzing. He sat up and looked at the number. It showed two miss calls and the title said Wednesday. Why was she calling him at three in the morning?