Wenclair One-Shots

stay with me (until we're alright)

Summary:

Between the nights spent curled up against each other in bed and the mornings waking up together, Enid finds the lines of her and Wednesday's friendship being blurred.

Or, Enid cries herself to sleep on multiple occasions, and Wednesday is there to help (most of the time, anyway).

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It begins with the occasional emotional night, after Enid hangs up the phone call with her mother, hands shaking and on the verge of tears. Yet another lecture about how she needs to wolf out soon, or she'll be sent to one of those stupid conversion camps her mother seems so hell-bent on forcing her into. The words ring in Enid's head even if she tries to block them out. You're not going to make anything of yourself if you can't wolf out, Enid. The translation? You're a disappointment to the pack. Always the same words, just phrased differently. Always the same meaning behind them, and it always leaves Enid feeling so empty inside.

Enid knows Wednesday was listening in on the conversation over the phone, because her fingers had stopped their movement on her typewriter. From the other side of the room, through her tears and blurred vision, Enid sees Wednesday's head turn slightly towards her, before she turns back to her typewriter. Enid wishes Wednesday would say something, anything.

She doesn't.

Enid isn't surprised — Wednesday is a person of little words. She only speaks when she deems necessary, and her choice of words are always calculated and thought through.

And so Enid lets herself fall into the comfort of her sheets, turning away from Wednesday and facing the wall before she finally allows the tears to fall. The clacking of Wednesday's typewriter resumes, and it lulls Enid into a restless sleep.

The days that follow are uneventful, mostly consisting of Enid's one-sided conversations with her less-than-willing roommate who begrudgingly tolerates her incessant chattering. Wednesday never mentions the night of the phone call, and Enid doesn't bring it up either. Things return to normal, and she can almost forget about the phone call.

Then Parent's Day approaches, and Enid feels the dread creeping up on her throughout the week. She doesn't really want to see her parents, especially not her mother. She knows that all they're going to talk about is how she needs to wolf out soon.

True enough, her mother spends the whole day questioning her about her eating habits, her sleeping habits, and everything else that could be the reason behind why she's not 'normal'. Her father glances apologetically at her but doesn't make any effort to stop her mother's interrogation.

All Enid can do is sit there and listen while she gets torn apart inside.

That night, Enid doesn't bother trying to muffle her sobs under her blankets. Wednesday has definitely seen and heard much worse than a teenage girl crying over her mother's harsh words. Enid should be used to this. It's all she's ever heard from her mother since they realised she wasn't going to wolf out anytime soon. She shouldn't expect anything else, but for some reason she can never explain, a small part of her always holds on to the hope that her mother will care about her well-being, or her personal life, or anything besides her inability to wolf out. It takes an hour for the tears to stop, but even then her shoulders still shake with every gasp of air. She feels Wednesday's eyes on her even with her back turned, but she ignores it, and Wednesday doesn't say a word. She wishes she was stronger than this so Wednesday wouldn't have to see her so weak and broken.

Her cries eventually drift her off to sleep, and when she awakes a few hours later with her eyes almost swollen shut and her throat hoarse, there's a cup of water placed on her bedside table. Enid takes a sip, and the emptiness inside is filled just a little. She glances at the other side of the room, where Wednesday sleeps peacefully. Enid swallows thickly, the swell of emotion stuck somewhere in between her chest and her throat. After the events of Parent's Day, it's nice to know that at least someone around her cares about her well-being, even if that someone is her mildly terrifying roommate.