Chapter Text
She had told her that she would never see her again, and yet there she was. She had saved her, but then why was she still there? Why had she not returned to her place of non-rest? Goody felt like she was missing something. A reason, an instruction, a mission. In any case, something was holding her on that plane. Something was keeping her connected to Wednesday Addams.
She had been her guide with the Crackstone case. Wednesday had annihilated him. They had, therefore, to be free, both of them. Right? The fact that Goody Addams was still on this earth meant that there was some loose end, some unfinished business that she had to resolve. Apparently, Wednesday Addams still needed a guide.
At first it was difficult for Goody to understand what was happening. She wasn't in her plane like she was before, but it wasn't like it was when she appeared to Wednesday either. She was somewhere in between. In a purgatory where the days passed in a blur and she didn't know exactly where she was. Like when you just wake up and it takes you a few seconds to get your bearings. That's what sleeping was like, wasn't it? It had been so long since she had done it that she didn't remember it exactly.
Little by little she managed to catch her surroundings. The forest, the school, the striped uniforms… wait, students? But they had been sent home after the Crackstone incident, had that much time passed already? Goody didn't move with her own will, it was as if something was dragging her ghost along a current, and she couldn't get to the surface. She was diving, being neither in one place nor in another. But she felt the current wasn’t constant and somehow she knew like she wouldn't have to hold her breath for much longer.
At first she was scared by that thought. What would happen if someone saw her? Actually, it wasn't fear, it was a mixture of feelings. Excitement, curiosity, eagerness… because, what if someone really saw her? However, all of her feelings were frustrated when she realized that no one turned around, no one seemed to even notice when she passed by them. She floated above a sea of heads and striped uniforms and no one seemed to notice the misty blur amongst them. Could she consider herself a ghost if no one saw her? Could she consider herself to actually exist if herself wasn't even sure?
Her mind focused on one goal. She needed a goal, if she didn’t want to go insane. Well, more than she could already be after 400 years of purgatory. She focused on her bond with Wednesday, the one thing she was sure of and knew anchored her, and let the current carry her.
She was now in the attic of the building, in a double room, with a huge spiderweb-shaped window divided in half. One part was full of colored stained glass, the other plainly let in the harsh autumn light. The room was also somewhat divided into two. Even through the ghostly veil that separated her from the plane, Goody could notice the vibrant colors on one side of the room contrasting with the monochrome side where her descendant was.
Wednesday didn't turn around, she didn't seem to see Goody. The ghost floated around the girl but she didn't see any sign of Wednesday noticing her, who was hitting the keys of a metal machine that seemed to write on a piece of paper. So Wednesday couldn’t see her either, huh? Goody felt great disappointment. But she thought, maybe it was better to at least be in the presence of a familiar face. So she let herself dozed off as she floated across the room, to the muffled distant rhythmic clanking of metal.
~~~
Thus she let time pass, sometimes it seemed to her that Wednesday and the colorful wolf that accompanied her in the room were moving at different rhythms than her, sometimes in fast motion, sometimes slowed down. She was just there, half-hearted. She listened and saw, but without really paying attention. It wasn’t darkness, but it wasn’t light. It was a dense fog that swallowed her, that lulled her into a seasick state. Had Crackstone's curse on her taken this form? Did saving Wednesday from imminent death and tricking that thread of fate translate into this ‘being without being’? Was this going to be her destiny for the rest of eternity?
But one day something was different. The current stopped. And a new thing caught her attention. When was the last time she had listened to music? Probably when she was alive. But even then, when had that been? She focused her attention on the melancholic melody that she heard on the surface and she saw herself appear on the balcony of the room, above Wednesday, who was playing a cello with her eyes closed. Goody sat on the railing (the closest thing she could get to sitting, of course, considering she was floating) and watched her move through the piece.
“What are you doing here?”, a voice asked once the music stopped. Wednesday was staring at her with a confused scowl. She was staring at her.
“You can see me”, Goody gasped. She didn't like the almost desperate tone that came out of her. But it was true that something had changed. She looked at her hands. It wasn't the diffuse fog she was used to. She looked… more solid. Still a ghost, but definitely more solid.
“I see and hear you perfectly”, Wednesday clarified. Goody floated down the railing to be at her level. Wednesday's expression conveyed no surprise, as if meeting the ghost of your ancestor was a regular occurrence for her.
“Since when can you see me?”, the ghost asked her, while Wednesday put the seal back in its case. Goody didn't want to believe that he had been able to see her all this time and she hadn't told her anything.
“Since about thirteen seconds ago”, the girl replied. “I opened my eyes when I finished playing and you were here”. She turned on her heel and entered through the small window door. She left the cello in the corner of the room and turned with her arms crossed at the ghost that had followed her through the glass. “Now, what are you doing here?”
“That is what I would like to know”, Goody replied, levitating over the spider web shadow in the middle of the room. “I thought that by helping you with the Crackstone case and saving you my work on this plane would be finished, but something still ties me here. Something related to you ties me here”.
“I don't know what it could be, my life now is utterly boring and normal”, Wednesday hummed. To her, boring meant no mysteries to solve or murderers lurking around the corners. “We have been in this hole they call school for two weeks and beyond the incident in the cafeteria in which they ran out of blood reserves and caused a mild chaos among the fangs, everything feels completely dull and uneventful”, she sighed. She took a few steps forward and stood in front of Goody. “In fact, you must be the most interesting thing that has happened”.
She turned and walked to her desk, pulling out a notebook and loose papers from a drawer, as well as a huge cork board from behind the closet. “We need to put all the evidence in order, and try to figure out why you cannot leave this plane.”
“It is something that has to do with you,” Goody noted.
“You have already said that, but it does not give us any direction,” Wednesday huffed. "We need to know-"
“Howdy, Willa!”, Wednesday's colorful roommate exclaimed as she entered the room.
“Hello, Enid,” Wednesday deadpanned as if her standing in front of an empty murder board was normal of her.
“Have I interrupted something?”, said Enid asked tilting her head to the side. “It seemed like you were talking to someone,” she smiled as she left her things (just as colorful) on the other side of the room.
“I was”, Wednesday answered cryptically.
The blonde sniffed the air, checking that there wasn’t any other person in the room. “No heartbeats, hmm… Is Thing back already? I thought he was with your Uncle Fester planning a heist or something”.
“He is. I was talking to the dead”, Wednesday said matter-of-factly.
“Would you prefer that I leave you alone ‘til you finish your seance?”, Enid asked cheerfully as she rolled on the balls of her feet with her hands behind her back.
“I appreciate your consideration”, the shorter girl replied. “However, it is not a seance. There is a ghost in the room”, she added smugly.
“Oh”, Enid’s smile faltered slightly as she shifted her weight on her feet. “Are they... friendly?”
”Worry not”, Wednesday said crossing her arms. “I believe you remember my ancestor Goody Addams?”
“Sure!”, she exclaimed, smiling again, her worries about a ghost haunting them dispelled. “The one who saved your life back in the crypt”.
“The one indeed”.
That meant that only Wednesday could see her. That partly explained why there had been no reaction when she floated through the hallways. They were still connected like before, only now the Addams girl could see Goody outside of her visions. Maybe that would help them understand what was happening.
“I thought you had lost your connection with her after that”, the blonde pointed out, taking Goody out of her thoughts.
“Us too”, Wednesday replied, “but something still connects her to me. We have a new mystery to solve”, she added with the hint of a smirk.
“Welp, let me know if you need me for anything!”, Enid smiled as she took her laptop out of her backpack. Goody looked at her with curiosity, when then blonde connected what appeared to be a wide metal book to a cord and pressed a button, and it began to emit light on its own.
“At the moment we still have things to talk about to see what we're up against, but I would let you know if we require your assistance”, Wednesday sighed. She tilted her head to look at Goody with a raised eyebrow. “It looks like you are going to stay for a while”. The ghost looked back at her, levitating a few inches above.
“Is she here now?”, Enid exclaimed, standing up from the desk chair again. “A new roomie! Point me to where she is, please?”, she asked Wednesday with a pout. The shorter girl pointed to the space beside her, indicating where her ancestor was floating on the floorboards.
“Hi Goody! I'm Enid Sinclair, Wednesday's roommate, nice to meet you”, she said with a wide soft smile looking up at her.
Well, she wasn't looking at her, she was looking at the space where she was supposedly standing. Her eyes didn't focus as if she really saw her, but it was the closest thing to a look Goody could have, aside from the sharp dark eyes of her relative. The wolf had bright blue eyes, with hints of wrinkles at the sides from smiling. Goody didn't say anything, just looked back at her.
“She already knows who you are”, Wednesday huffed.
“I know”, Enid chuckled, looking briefly at Wednesday before trying to focus once more on the invisible girl. “But I’m trying to be nice, Wens. We haven't really introduced ourselves before. Anyway, thanks for saving Wednesday's life that night, really. I'm sure she probably hasn't told you before, but I know she appreciates it too”.
Goody stood still. That had been probably the kindest interaction she has had since she had died. Even in life she could recount the few kind interactions she had had.
“She is not going to answer you. And you know you cannot hear her, right?”, the brunette rolled her eyes and walked back to her desk.
“Yeah, but I still think it's nicer to talk to her directly”, Enid stuck out briefly her tongue to her roommate, who gave her no reaction. “Right, Goody?”
Then the blonde extended her hand. What was she trying to do? It looked like she was trying to initiate a handshake, which was stupid, considering she was a ghost. Why was she taking so much trouble? Goody Addams shouldn't matter to her. She couldn't see or hear her, if it weren't for the fact that Wednesday had told her, for her Goody didn't exist. Why was she so kind to her?
Goody went outside coming through the window. She needed to get some air. Not literally because technically she didn't need to breathe nor the air itself. But her head told her that she had to get out of there. She felt... She felt.
She felt overwhelmed, that small interaction had affected so much. Could ghosts cry? It had been so long since she had felt. Well, she had felt anger, rage, despair, sadness, melancholy, boredom, apathy, depression, nothing at all. But that colorful wolf, with her unnecessary greeting and her strange words, had made her feel what it was being seen, without even seeing her.
“Well done, Sinclair”, she heard Wednesday say in the distance, “you managed to scare her away in record time”. Her voice felt more distant than before, more muffled. Goody’s surroundings were becoming blurry.
“She's probably just shy”, Enid chuckled. She sounded like she was underwater. “That's what you did the first time we were introduced”.
Goody felt a pressure in her chest and understood that the mysterious current that dragged her was gaining strength again. She looked at the silhouettes that were now barely visible behind the stained glass windows, increasingly blurred, and closed her eyes to let the fog devour her once again.