Wednesday Addams Oneshots

House Again

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: "Can you write an angst story on a song called 'House Again' by Hudson Westbrook?"

Warnings: Angst, slightly gory? (I think, i'm not to sure, but i'll put in the warning just incase one of you is squeamish)

Well this kitchen used to be a dance hall, 
Music on and the lights off,
Just you and I used to be. 

Marrying you was the first big decision Wednesday never regretted for a second. She remembers carrying you through the door of the house she bought for you both as an early wedding gift. She recalls the way you clung to her, laughing about being unsure about both of you making it through the door at the same time, but she made it work. 

She danced with you in the kitchen, an old radio you had gotten from a charity shop that sounded more like static than actual lyrics played through the room with a domestic bliss she could never recreate for herself. 

The meals you cooked for her were stand-offish to start with, but with time, they had grown into heart-warming, memorable meals she would never forget the taste of, even if her tongue got chopped off. 

Perfume on your pillows,
New day through the windows,
Bringing out the blue in your eyes.

Loving you had come easily to Wednesday, but sharing her space had been one of the more difficult challenges when she started her relationship with you. She remembers back in high school how she would have to be present before you touched anything of hers; she would scold you if she saw any object by a millimetre. But as time passed, she didn't care what you touched, because she knew you'd always return it. 

She spent 15 years with you, nearly two decades of bliss she will never forget. 

Used to be four boots by the door, 
But two ain't there anymore. 

Your sickness came quicker than you both anticipated it to be. Cancer, a disease you had spoken about residing in your parents ' bodies when they got older. An illness that has plagued your family for generations and taken off more years of a life than Wednesday could count on her hands. 

No one expected it to attack so suddenly and strongly. What started as an ache in your leg turned into a lump, until eventually, multiple surgeries to remove it left it to return during your resting periods. 

She thought she had more time, more of you, more of this... this love, this bliss, this domestic life she would've recoiled at back in her early days. But now she wishes she had longer, she wishes you were still here, still roaming the house with your presence, wishing you never left.

Now it's just four empty walls, 
Where I lay my head and get no rest at all,
The porch swing don't swing,
The doorbell don't ring.

The house had just become another house since you left her; the life she once knew was now dull. She couldn't sleep without you; she would lie on your side of your bed just to have your scent wrap around her like a distant hug, but once the smell wore off, she saw no use in going back to the mattress that used to be warm with your body. 

The mailman comes, but she never answers; she couldn't answer. Not since you always got the floor, always dealt with visitors, always made her have a social life. Now she had no one to make petty arguments with, no one to joust witty words with like a dance. 

And now it's just wood and concrete,
And numbers on a mailbox on used to be street,
I guess you or I should have left when you did,
The house you made a home is,
Now just a house again. 

Lately, she wishes she had never met you. She never let that ray of sunshine slip through the cracks of her dark storm cloud she wore like armour, because now there were just holes in the clouds, no sunlight to peek through, no rays to make her days brighter, she was back to the darkness, and she didn't love it like she used to.