Wednesday sat in her office going through records. She had been able to uncover the last case and was happy that all she had to do was write the report and then call it a day.
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To start from the beginning. Wednesday Addams was now 27 years old and
self-employed. She had left Nevermore when she graduated.
After the unfortunate and tragic death of Larissa Weems, Wednesday had left without looking back.
She lived on the edge of a village, close to the coast. The weather there was mostly gray and suitable for Wednesday. Perhaps it was also the fact that it was Larissa's hometown and she was buried here.
So like every evening she went to the cemetery, sat down at Larissa's grave and told her everything about the day. It became a routine for her.
Thing had always been with her and shared in Wednesday's grief. He accompanied her every time she went to the grave and listened to her.
Thing was depressed. He wanted so much to help her, but he didn't know how. He knew her from babyhood and it took him to see her lose herself and burst into tears.
Yes, Wednesday Addams was crying a lot by now, much to her displeasure, and it didn't help. She was grieving in a way she had never thought herself capable of. Morticia had tried to talk to her daughter for quite a while, but she gave up at some point, because Wednesday talked about everything but not about what was bothering her.
Wednesday wouldn't talk about it to anyone either. Eugene had been the only one who knew even then why it had been so hard for her, but that's where it stopped. Summsumms always stick together, after all.
But how could she tell her mother?
No, that wasn't possible for her.
Alone and only with Thing, just as she actually loved it, she went home after her visit with Larissa, and ran herself a bath. Freezing inside was never good, because that could quickly develop into a cold and they could do without that thankfully.
As Wednesday lay in the warm tub covered in bath foam, Thing joined her. He indicated that she should seek professional help. That this condition isn't good and discussed with her until Wednesday suddenly gave in exhausted and cried again.
For years her condition had been
was better for a while and then worse again. This up and down could only be unhealthy for the soul.
Thing patted her shoulder briefly and left her alone to herself. He couldn't bear it.
An eternity later, Wednesday came out and went straight to bed. Her nerves were shot and her mental strength was at an end, so she decided that only sleep could bring some peace.
"Good night Thing," she said softly and he tapped back to good night. He had his shelf where there was a nice wooden box on it. Wednesday had it upholstered and covered, then added a mini snuggle blanket and Thing had a cozy resting place to sleep. Even though he didn't need it as much as you might think, he enjoyed it because Wednesday had given it to him.
The next morning, Wednesday was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when Thing joined her on the table and knocked good morning.
Wednesday looked at him and smiled slightly. "Good morning Thing."
There was silence for a brief moment until Wednesday spoke," You know what, Thing. I decided this morning that I was going to write. Remember what Dr. Kynbod used to say? If you can't talk about it, that you write about it? I'm going to take that advice and who knows, maybe it will end up being so good that I'll publish it."
Thing thought about it for a moment and gave a thumbs up. Anything was better than just doing nothing. He dashed off to the desk next to and copied, frantically on the machine. Wednesday shook her head, smiled, joined him at her typewriter and began to write.
