𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝕆𝕟𝕖: 𝕌𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕤

Valentina awoke the next morning with the worst headache she'd ever experienced in her life. It felt like her brain was throwing itself against the walls of her skull, trying to break out. Her temples were pounding like the steady beat of a war drum.

It wasn't just her head that hurt, either. Her whole body ached, from her head down to her toes. She supposed she should be grateful that she wasn't puking her guts out right about now, but she didn't count herself as lucky per se. She was simultaneously sweaty and cold, hadn't a clue how Gomez and Morticia could stand having her held so close.

Despite her looking and smelling like wet garbage, they were still all but wrapped around her. She woke up basically on top of Morticia, her head on her chest and her pelvis in the cradle of her hips. Gomez, not to be excluded, was laying on his side, with his arm casually thrown over both girls.

"Brunch?" He suggested at one point as he traced meaningless shapes and figures between her shoulder blades.

Likewise, Tish was repeatedly, almost obsessively, combing her fingers through Valentina's hair, starting at the scalp and not stopping until she reached the ends. Normally she'd be concerned with it getting oily, but it was already damp and limp. She needed to shower.

Sometimes it was like they thought she'd disappear if they didn't keep a hand on her at all times.

"Don't you mean breakfast? What time is it?" The blinds were closed, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of sunlight, so she had no concept of time. Surely it couldn't be past--

"It's past noon, almost one o'clock," Morticia said.

Huh. So Valentina had lost over twelve hours. Dinner ended at about ten PM, and the last thing she remembered was dancing with Morticia. Next thing she knew, she woke up in their shared hotel room.

Just the thought of food made her nauseous, and she felt too tired and weak to get out of bed. Still...

"You two should go get something to eat without me." Naturally, they didn't like the sound of that idea, if their matching frowns were anything to go by. But she was speaking nothing but the truth. "Tish, you have guests to entertain." Her friend group wasn't a bunch of free-thinkers. They needed her to tell them what to do.

"You're more important," she argued. Except Valentina knew her worth, and it was pretty low. "At least let Gomez stay here and take care of you." God, she didn't even want to think about what he had in mind for taking care of her. Nevermind that. She could take care of herself.

"I'm not a baby."

"Of course not. You're not a baby. You're our baby." As if to emphasize this, Morticia pressed a chaste kiss to her sweaty hairline. Gomez snickered quietly, as if he couldn't help himself.

Valentina wanted to be cross, defend herself against the indignity. She, like most teenagers, hated being babied. But the professed sentiment just made her miss her mother. If she could only get her hands on a crystal ball... Perhaps, if she got some time alone, she could look for one.

"Go on. I'll catch up," she told them.

"When?"

"I don't know... In an hour, maybe two?"

"Make it one and a half, tops. After that, we'll come and get you."

"Okay, deal."

So her boyfriend and girlfriend slowly, reluctantly got out of bed and started preparing for the day. Out of consideration for her current sensitivity to light, they left the lights off, so there was a bit more fumbling than usual. How Tish managed to get her cat-eye sharp and her lipstick even was a mystery she wasn't meant to understand.

Before they left, they gave her lots of kisses. Too many, in fact. After about a dozen, and, yes, she counted, she pulled the covers up to her eyes, hiding beneath the blanket like a child.

"Get out of here," she grumbled.

"Alright, alright... Remember, an hour and a half." And, with that, they left.

Valentina spent the first thirty minutes dozing, floating in and out of consciousness. But she couldn't stay in bed all day. Eventually she'd have to get up to face the day. And there was no time like the present.

So, despite the throbbing pain in her temples, she climbed out of bed, changed out of her pajamas and put on her face.

She dressed primarily in the clothes that Morticia --and maybe Gomez? She wasn't sure-- packed for her. They were the warmest, after all. They didn't precisely match her style, seeing as a majority of them were white rather than the rainbow of pastels she normally gravitated towards, but she appreciated the effort put into picking them out.

Once she was as ready for the day as she was ever going to be, she still had a little over half-an-hour of free time left. She debated laying back down, but she didn't want to smudge her makeup or wrinkle her blouse.

So, she did the next best thing: look for a crystal ball. Gomez and Morticia packed like they were going to be gone for a year, not a month, so there were a lot of clothes to sort through.

Eventually, though, she found a tote the size and shape of a bowling bag. Tish never expressed an interest in bowling, so she must be using it to store her crystal ball!

Awesome! Valentina would be able to call her mother and--

It wasn't a crystal ball.

It wasn't a bowling ball either, though.

She didn't know what it was. At least not at first. It was round, but not perfectly spherical. And, in addition to being sort of lumpy, it was also rough to the touch, like sandpaper.

Curious now, she reached into the bag and pulled out its contents. It was only when she turned it around in her hands and held it up to the light that she realized what it was.

It was a stone head. Not necessarily a stone bust, because it cut off at the neck. It wasn't a clean cut, either. It appeared to be broken.

All these things she could excuse as just being a weird piece of art. But there was one thing she couldn't explain away.

She recognized the face, knew its --his-- features intimately.

It was Deuce, wearing an expression of shock and horror.