Chapter 8

The day's drive is relatively uneventful. There's nothing like driving nine hundred miles due south on I-95 to really bring the boredom. But, given the strange company, the long miles pass without becoming tedious. They tell stories about family, fight over control of the musical selection, discuss theories about the Hyde, muse over Wednesday's inability to control her visions, guess at who will take up the vacant administrative positions in Jericho and at Nevermore, and animatedly debate the merits of different road trip snacks. Tyler's assertions that they NEED to stop at South of the Border, a kitschy Mexican themed tourist trap just off the highway at the junction of North and South Carolina, is overruled.

Wednesday explains that there is not much room in their itinerary for sightseeing. She is scheduled to take the red eye flight from Miami International back to Newark the next night. The ruse that she had needed to spend the past few days in San Francisco with Enid, helping the werewolf deal with personal issues related to her first transformation and PTSD from the recent events, is flimsy at best. If she doesn't return home via the same airline she left on three days ago, her parents will become even more suspicious. It had been a simple matter for Thing to fabricate a series of fictional text messages, supposedly from Enid, requesting her best friend's emotional support during her period of crisis. Her parents had been skeptical, but were so excited at the prospect of Wednesday actually developing a close friendship, that they were willing to overlook the inconsistencies in the story. All that had been required was to book a flight that connected through Logan International Airport in Boston. She simply left the plane during that layover, made her way to the long term parking lot, and illegally availed herself of their inconspicuous getaway vehicle. It was a relatively short drive to Jericho from there. The trickiest part had been timing her arrival at the location on the winding road out of town with the exact moment her vision had shown her that Tyler would arrive at the spot.

"Wait. Text messages? Since when do you have a phone?" Tyler questions as Wednesday describes her bout of subterfuge. Yes, that was the shocking part of this whole elaborate and well executed plan.

It gets very quiet in the car all of a sudden, and even Thing is evading making eye contact.

Eventually Wednesday offers an answer. "The insipid device was forced upon me at the time of my departure from Nevermore."

Thing glares at her and taps his fingers judgmentally on the console.

"Fine. Xavier gave it to me." She admits, clearly uncomfortable.

And suddenly Tyler feels like he's back in the alley behind the police station talking about the Rave'n and signals and priorities. Then she looks over at him, and he can tell that she is embarrassed, possibly even nervous about how he will react. The knot in his gut unravels, as he realizes that after last night, he knows exactly where her priorities lay and her signals are now crystal clear. Also, what idiot thinks he's going to win over Wednesday Addams with an expensive gift? With a cell phone of all things. Has Xavier ever actually spoken to Wednesday? What a tool.

"Are you currently using it as a paper weight or a door stop?" Tyler smirks.

"The screen dimensions lend it to function as an excellent coaster for my morning cup of espresso." She seems to relax at the realization that he's not upset.

The conversation casually turns to what type of fast food they want for lunch.

During one of their regularly scheduled pit stops, Wednesday pumps the gas and Tyler jogs over to the CVS next door to the gas station. He hadn't realized that Thing had tagged along in his back pack until he feels the appendage squirming to get out while he stands frozen like a deer in headlights in the middle of the pharmacy's aisle of awkwardness. The hand is clearly unbothered by the wide array of condoms, lubricants, feminine hygiene products, yeast infection treatments, and adult diapers lining the shelves around them as he climbs out of the bag and hops over to the shelf. Tyler stares at the brightly colored boxes of prophylactics and feels his anxiety ratchet up a few notches as he attempts to determine if Wednesday might have some preference for ultra thin, or ribbed, or... flavored? Then a package hits him in the chest. He catches it and notices Thing shaking with laughter as he reads the label "Extra Slim for Smaller Sizes".

"Very funny, asshole." Tyler snaps at him and tosses the package back at the hand.

Thing replaces the box on the shelf then scampers along, looking very proud of himself for the joke.

Tyler grabs the hand and shoves him back in his bag. Then he just picks a random package of regular condoms and heads to the cashier before he can put too much more thought into the purchase and psyche himself out entirely. Buying condoms is making him think about using the condoms, and there's still a fairly long stretch of road to cover before they have any time for that.

.....

"Come on." Tyler whines. "It's the happiest place on Earth." They elect to stop for the night once they reach Titusville, Florida. Realizing they are not far from Orlando, Tyler has begun suggesting they take a trip to Disney World.

"What about that statement makes you believe I would have any interest in visiting such a place?" Wednesday gives him a raised eyebrow.

"Good point." He concedes.

"I'm far more interested in finding a secluded locale where we can use our time together to help you develop control over the alternative form you can now access." Wednesday admits as they carry their things into their hotel room. This time they elected for something a bit more modern and a lot cleaner. They also sprung for a suite so that Thing doesn't have to spend the night in the car or out on a walk while they utilize the bedroom.

Tyler drops their bags on the bed and steps into her personal space. He's close enough that he can feel the minimal heat of her body but he isn't actually touching her anywhere as he leans down and teasingly whispers in her ear, "You just want to have sex on the beach, don't you?"

"Where else would you imagine we would experiment after your transformation? In here we'd likely damage the furnishings." Her voice is deadly serious.

Tyler starts suddenly choking on air. She wants to... with him like that... Is that even possible? Shit. Maybe he should have bought some of those Magnum XLs.

"Tyler, I'm joking." She admits with a nearly imperceptible uptick at the corner of her mouth.

He manages to start breathing normally again.

"Unless that's something you are particularly interested in exploring." She looks up at him through her long lashes and dark bangs, her face the picture of innocence. Like she hasn't just suggested the most insane and depraved thing he's ever heard.

He closes the tiny gap between their bodies, wraps his arms around her, lifts her off her feet and essentially tackles her onto the bed.

Thing closes the door and makes himself comfortable on the couch in the living room area with the TV on and the volume turned up high enough to mostly drown out the noises coming from the bedroom.

It's over forty-five minutes later when the pair eventually saunter into the kitchenette area and start discussing options for where they can actually go test out Tyler's transformation abilities.

Thing joins them with the smart phone in hand. He pulls up Google maps and teases the screen until the nearby Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge is centered on the view.

"Excellent work, Thing. That should serve our purposes." Wednesday praises the hand.

"But that area's just supposed to be for protecting wildlife." Tyler questions.

Wednesday shrugs. "Hydes are an endangered species."

Tyler gives in without much fight.

.....

It's just Wednesday and Tyler in the car as they park at a public boat ramp that doesn't seem to see much use, especially after dark. Thing has decided to stay back at the hotel and avoid the abrasive beach sand and awful humidity they are sure to encounter on this outdoor outing. They hike along the shore line for about half a mile, until they are well ensconced in the off limits wilderness of the refuge. In the far distance across the bay they can make out the heavily illuminated structures of the Cape Canaveral's rocket launch pads.

"Uh, Wednesday, are you noticing something weird about this water?" Tyler points out as they drop their supplies near the tree line along the narrow stretch of beach.

Wednesday looks at the faint blue glow illuminating from the water whenever the small waves crash onto the shore. "Bioluminescent dinoflagellates." She answers.

"Gesundheit." Tyler responds.

"No." She scowls at him and walks over to the water's edge. She drags a finger through the water and a trail of eerie turquoise glow follows the digit. "The water here is filled with microorganisms that emit light in response to being agitated. It's the only location in the United States where these creatures thrive. Typically they are not present in such numbers at this time of year. Yet another indication of global warming."

"Or aliens." Tyler doesn't sound convinced. "You can't tell me that the only place in the country where the water glows like we're in that Avatar movie is around the spot where they launch space shuttles, and aliens aren't involved." He cautiously pokes the water and marvels at the resultant illumination. He splashes his hand a little more aggressively in the water and the light is even brighter. "So, anything moving in the water makes it glow?"

Wednesday's eye roll is audible in her voice, "You want to have sex in the glowing water, don't you."

He cringes at the fact that he is so transparent, but then decides to just own it. "You don't?"

"It could definitely be an interesting endeavor." She remarks. "Especially since this bay is also known to be teaming with bull sharks."

Tyler retracts his hand from the water so quickly he lands backward on his ass in the wet sand and scuttles away from the waves.

Wednesday is smirking down at him when he bumps into her legs. "Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand."

"Right." He agrees as he stands and dusts himself off. "Figuring out how to transform into the monster. Here we go." He looks around aimlessly for a few seconds. "Yeah. I've got nuthin."

"If you want to survive as a Hyde with no master, you are going to have to figure this out." She chides him.

"I don't know where to start." He shrugs.

Wednesday spreads a blanket out on the ground and takes a seat, motioning for Tyler to do the same. Once he has joined her, she looks him square in the eyes. "We know almost all outcast abilities have some root in emotions. That is the best place to start. However, if we are to have any chance of success, it will require you to be completely truthful. Not just with me, but with yourself. Given your past, some of this may prove to be quite uncomfortable for you."

He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. She's right. He knows what they are going to have to explore, and it is not going to be pleasant.

"Know that I will not judge you for anything you divulge." Her face looks as impassive as usual, but there is something in her eyes as she says it. She means it.

"Ok. What do you want to know?" He rests his chin on his knees and looks at her.

"Let's start with the physical aspects of the transformation." She pulls a familiar book from her bag along with a small flashlight. Thumbing through pages, she opens Faulkner's diary to the section on Hydes. "The anatomic changes are well documented – humeral and antebrachial elongation, muscular hypertrophy, thoracolumbar kyphosis, etc. But what does it feel like?"

"Usually it feels like someone is ripping every joint in my body out of its socket and cracking every bone in my chest and arms while they peel my skin off." He admits.

Wednesday's eyebrow quirks up. "You said usually. Are there times when it doesn't hurt?"

"Last night. I didn't even realize it had happened."

"What were you thinking about at the time?" She asks.

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I mean very specifically. At that exact moment." She clarifies.

"Nothing." Off her annoyed look he continues, "Like literally nothing. I just kind of let go, mind went blank, that kind of thing."

"Were there any other times that were not excruciatingly painful?"

"Some I don't remember, so I don't know about those. But that night during the Harvest Festival... in the woods... That was the first time I was still kind of there. I don't remember feeling anything then."

Wednesday's brows pull slightly closer together, as if a theory is starting to take shape in her mind. "Was there anything else special about that transformation?"

He takes a few deep breaths before exhaling the words, "I wanted it."

Wednesday is silent, but her eyes tell him to give up more.

"I saw what that kid was doing to you. I wanted him to hurt more than I knew I could make happen like this." Tyler nods at his body. "I didn't remember anything from the kills before that, but I had pieced it together, knew what I was. I gave the monster control and it let me watch."

Still Wednesday says nothing, but he sees her breath hitch in her chest and hears the small flutter in her exhalation once she does breathe again. He's worried that despite her promise not to judge him, she's scared or disgusted by his admission. Then she licks her lips, chewing on the bottom one slightly as she continues to stare straight through him. Right. He should have known better.

"Were there times that it was particularly painful for you?" She seems to be choosing her words before continuing, "The night of the blood moon... You were rather vocal as you transformed."

"Yeah." He admits. "That was bad. Part of me was fighting that really hard. For obvious reasons." He gives a self-deprecating snort with the last part. "That night at the Gates mansion wasn't fun either."

She hesitates. "Tell me about the first time."

His arms grip his legs tighter, his body trying to fold in on itself. The air outside is eighty degrees and over ninety percent humidity, but he starts to shiver. "That was the worst." He hesitates to go on.

She scoots over so that she is sitting next to him, their sides just grazing each other. It doesn't seem like much, but he recognizes how meaningful the gesture is coming from her.

"I had been in the cave for three or four days. Everything was a jumbled mess. She had injected me with so many things... so many times... I lost count. She had this... cattle prod." He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the memory. "I couldn't do anything. I was chained to the wall. There was just so much pain. I just wanted it to end, would have done anything for it to end. Then it got worse." His eyes are glazed over and he is staring at nothing in the distance. "I woke up naked, blood everywhere, still chained to the wall, part of a dead deer near the entrance to the cave, and Laurel was standing over me, petting me and talking like I was some kind of dog that had just done a trick."

"Tyler, get naked."

"Not really in the mood now." He looks at her, a little offended.

She shifts her gaze very pointedly to where his hands are gripping his knees. His nails have extended into talons and the flesh of his hands and forearms is becoming grey and bulging.

"Oh!" He jolts himself up into a standing position. His hands return to their usual size.

Wednesday stands and reaches for the hem of his shirt. "You're ready. Unless you want to tear your new clothes to shreds, I suggest you take them off."

"I still don't know what I'm doing." He lets her pull his shirt off over his head then he starts unbuttoning his jeans.

"It all ties into my theory about the frontal cortex and the amygdala." She folds his shirt and places it on the blanket where she had been sitting. "Your emotions control the Hyde. More precisely, they suppress it. When you let go intentionally or get completely overwhelmed, it allows the monster to take over." He looks like he is going to interject, so she continues. "The more you fight, the more painful it is."

"So what do you suggest I do?" He tosses his jeans and boxers on top of his folded shirt.

She shrugs. "Let go of any emotions. Try logically wanting to change."

He closes his eyes and concentrates. Nothing happens.

"If you want to control it, you need to embrace it. Disregard any feelings you have about the monster – any resentment or fear. Picture it like a tool you can use, a weapon you can pick up and discard as needed." If anyone should know about dismissing emotions, it's Wednesday Addams.

She's right. He is having a hard time separating from all the pain and trauma he associates with the Hyde. But the monster is not the one that made him do those horrible things. Like Wednesday said, it's just a tool. A tool that someone else has been wielding for too long. Now it's his turn.

He looks down at Wednesday. Way down. She smirks up at him. "Nicely done."

His eyes glance at himself, confirming that he has transformed into the beast. He smirks back at her.

"Let's see what you can do." It's the most excited he has ever seen her.

It does something to him knowing that he brings her that much exhilaration. And now he's purring again.

"We already know you can do that." She rolls her eyes at him. "Go test your speed and strength. Figure out your limits."

If she insists. He darts off, running along the beach, kicking up a spray of fluorescent blue water with every stride of his giant feet in the surf. He kind of hopes a bull shark decides to try something while he's like this. On his way back, he darts through the trees. He jumps up and slaps at branches more than fifteen feet from the ground, slicing them to mulch. His claws cut gouges six inches deep into tree trunks. This kind of power is intoxicating. He forces himself to slow to a walk, then halts. With a deep breath and very willful intent, he shifts painlessly back into human form. After taking a moment to congratulate himself, he takes off at a jog that turns to a run, which shifts into a gallop on all four monstrous limbs without missing a stride. He spots Wednesday standing where he'd left her a few minutes before. She sees him coming and looks utterly amused. That's until she realizes that he's barreling toward her at full speed, tongue hanging out of his grinning maw and flapping in the breeze, no indication that he is going to slow down or stop. He launches himself at her from almost ten feet away. Mid-air he encircles her in his oversized arms and protectively pulls her against his chest as they crash to the ground. The momentum of the heavy beast sends the pair rolling through at least four full revolutions before they come to a stop in the sand, Tyler fully human and naked on top of her.

"I'm pleased to see you have honed your transforming skills, but this demonstration was a bit excessive." She sounds displeased, but Tyler instantly notices that she's content in his embrace and making no attempts to escape the dead weight of him lying on top of her.

He leans down to kiss her and she eagerly returns the affection. When they pull apart he grins down at her. "So, are we going to have sex in the shark infested magic glowing alien water, or not?"

.....

The next day they cruise down A1A along Ft. Lauderdale beach with the windows open. It's not quite the same as their admittedly shared fantasy of cruising the strip in that gothic classic convertible at night, but the breeze carries the smell of salt and decaying seaweed and they can hear the waves crashing on the beach to their left. Tyler is driving with his left arm draped over the open window frame, the sun cooking his exposed skin and the sea breeze blowing his hair back out of his face. He could get used to south Florida at this rate.

He hears a noise from the passenger seat that almost sounds like... a laugh? He turns to see Wednesday biting her fist to keep from laughing. Thing is holding up the phone, showing her something on the screen.

"What?" Tyler can't imagine what could possibly have caused such a reaction from her. They pull up to a stop light and Thing turns the phone so he can see the news story reported by the associated press: Florida Man, Arrested for Selling Bath Salts, Claims to Have Photographed a Chupacabra Attacking a Girl Near Cape Canaveral. Below is a blurred and pixelated photo that if you squint just right is still an indistinct blob. But they all recognize that it is actually him and Wednesday on that apparently not so secluded beach.

"Who are they calling a Chupacabra?!?!" Tyler's indignation at the misclassification sends Wednesday over the edge and Thing drops the phone to start slapping at the center console in an uncontrollable fit of hysterics.

.....

The mood in the car has been getting progressively more somber since they stopped for lunch. This is it. It's the last leg of their road trip. They are all saliently aware that when this epic journey ends, Tyler will be left in a swamp, while Wednesday and Thing will return to their previous lives. She's still right next to him, but the impending sixteen hundred mile separation is already making Tyler feel lonely. He knows that whatever this is between them is more than capable of surviving as a long distance relationship. He doesn't like the idea of being so far away from Wednesday, but obsessive devotion is literally coded in his DNA and Wednesday's reverence for loyalty puts most blood oaths to shame. They will be fine. But he's really going to miss having her in his bed at night.

Tyler doesn't want to think about how long it will be before he gets to spend another night holding her, buried in her, just feeling her body against his. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't really going to miss the sex, but it's more than that. He wants to be there when she latches onto her next big mystery, because of course she will. Trouble follows her like a shadow. He wishes he could be there to see the excitement in her eyes as she finds a new clue, to protect her when she goes rushing headlong toward danger without giving a thought to her own safety, to be able to assist her instead of being ordered to distract her, to help her plot her intricate revenge schemes. He wants to be her partner in crime, because if this road trip is any indication, there's definitely going to be crime. Instead he'll be helping her uncle do way less fun crime and entrusting that Thing and Enid, and those other Nevermore kids they hang around, including Xavier Thorpe, will have her back. This sucks.

"You look exceedingly distressed." Wednesday, as usual, seems to be reading his mind. He hadn't even noticed her take her eyes off the road to evaluate his mental state. "What's troubling you?"

"I think it's just really sinking in how things are going to change for me today." He shrugs.

"I wonder sometimes..." Her voice is cautious, "Would you prefer that we had not met?"

"Never." His response is instant.

She ignores him and continues, "I have often considered what our lives would be like had you not been working that first time I entered the Weathervane. After my vision, seeing what Laurel did to you in retaliation for how you felt about me... seeing the pain you are feeling now... Would you be better off if you did not care about me?"

He laughs at her insecurity. Apparently he's not the only one worried about their imminent parting. "I knew you were going to wreck my whole world from the second I handed you that tri-winged screw driver."

"So you do regret..."

He cuts her off, "My world... where I was at that exact moment you showed up... it needed to burn, and you showed up like a flame thrower... Yeah, it got a lot more complicated after Laurel realized there was something going on with us. But having something to care about... something worth fighting for... that saved me."

Wednesday focuses on her driving and purses her mouth into a thin tight line. Discussion of emotions is clearly making her uncomfortable.

"Do you regret us?" He asks, suddenly a little concerned.

She snorts. "As you once pointed out to me, I rather immediately developed a near-total obsession with the monster prowling the woods between Jericho and Nevermore. My only regret is that it took me so long to realize it was you."

"Hey, I tried to drop hints when I could." His face looks like that of a guilty Golden Retriever.

"I should have realized that the fact that I felt an attraction to you was a clue rather than distraction."

"Yeah, I kept waiting for you to admit that you'd known all along." He grins at her then leans in to whisper into her ear, "I mean, I couldn't see you being interested in some boring normie, no matter how clearly irresistible I was. Figured you knew something was up."

"Clearly irresistible." Wednesday deadpans. "That's what you call that?"

"It worked didn't it?" He lets his lips ghost over her ear as he says it.

She swats at him. "Distracted driving causes approximately thirty five hundred deaths per year."

"That not how you want to go out?" Tyler teases as he places a hand on her leg and starts sliding it suggestively toward the upper part of her inner thigh.

She grabs his hand and begins twisting his fingers into uncomfortable positions. "I refuse to have my death lumped in with those of idiots that can't tear themselves away from their phones for the span of a seven minute commute."

"Fine." Tyler pouts as he sits in the passenger seat very clearly keeping his hands to himself. Suddenly he feels the car shift lanes and looks up to find that Wednesday is taking the exit for a rest stop. She pulls into a parking spot at one of those rest areas that are basically a large parking lot with a bathroom and a vending machine. It's nearly deserted at this time of day.

Wednesday says nothing as she unbuckles her seat belt and starts to open the car door.

"Bathroom break?" Tyler questions the unplanned stop.

She gives him the look. "I said not while I was driving. I'm not driving anymore."

Oh. OH! Tyler is scrambling out of the car to follow her fast enough that he gets hung up on the seat belt.

She just shakes her head at him as she starts walking toward the small concrete building.

Yup. They are totally going to do it in some nasty truck stop bathroom. This feels like the intro to at least a dozen bad horror movies. Which is probably what has piqued Wednesday's interest in the adventure. As always, Tyler is more than willing to just follow along.

He catches up and trails her to the door leading to one of the unoccupied unisex bathrooms. They enter and the smell is only about half as bad as Tyler was expecting. Which still isn't great. He's hesitant to touch any surface in the small lavatory, but then the door shuts behind him and Wednesday shoves him up against it. She locks it with one hand while reaching for the button of his jeans with the other.

Her mouth is on his as he tries to mumble, "I'm not complaining, but what brought this on?"

"Want you... one more time." She says between kisses and nips she trails down his neck.

"I'm gonna miss you too." He whispers into her ear before grabbing her hips. She tugs his pants and boxers half way down his thighs before he pulls her against him. He pushes off the door and backs her up until she hits the sink. The industrial countertop looks clean enough, so he lifts her to sit on it. Their mouths and tongues collide as she fishes in a pocket and pulls out a small foil package. She removes her other hand from where it had been pulling on the curls at the base of his skull to tear the packet open. Despite the setting, he's fully aroused as she reaches down and sets about applying the condom. He uses the opportunity to lift her skirt and pull her underwear down to her ankles. Their tasks both completed, he pushes her knees apart and steps up to her. She clamps her thighs around his hips as he pushes into her. She's looking up at him, her eyes unblinking, her lips still on his, as they share this most intimate goodbye.

It's been the same thing since the moment he first laid eyes on her. Their eyes meet and nothing else matters. Everyone around them, whatever their surroundings, even the voices that had been in his head, it all just fades away until it's just him and her.

Tyler might be feeling like an emotional sap at the moment, but he still knows what Wednesday likes. There is an air of desperation to the act, but they are still playfully biting each other, clawing, and tugging on anything they can. They both know this will be the last time they do this for a while, and it is a bit of a shame that the setting doesn't allow for anything particularly adventurous. It takes a good deal of effort, but eventually Wednesday directs Tyler through exactly what she needs him to do for her to finish. His orgasm quickly follows hers.

They are exhausted and the bathroom's pitiful excuse for air conditioning can barely temper the Florida heat and humidity on a good day. The excess body heat from their exertions have turned the restroom into a sauna. Tyler's legs feel like jelly, and he's leaning against Wednesday, letting her and the counter support him. Sweat is dripping from his forehead where it is pressed against hers. Eventually their heavy breathing calms and Wednesday breaks the silence, "We should go."

"Yeah." Neither of them sound like they really mean it, but they pull their clothes back into place and head back to the car.

Thing has awakened from his cat nap in the back seat. He glances back and forth between them and wags his wrist in a "What am I supposed to do with you two?" gesture.

It's only another thirty minutes of driving before they arrive at the entrance to Everglades National Park. A few detours away from the more heavily touristed areas eventually lead them to a sketchy looking log cabin next to a marina. This is apparently not Wednesday's first time visiting this creepy convenience store full of shellacked alligator heads and a variety of squirming live fishing bait options. She secures a rental of an airboat for the afternoon, and the guy running the marina has no qualms about handing over the keys to the flat aluminum skiff with the giant enclosed prop engine on the back.

"You actually know how to drive one of these things?" Tyler questions.

"It is the only reliable means of reaching Uncle Fester's cabin this early in the season. He taught me during a visit once when I was seven." Wednesday grins at him as they toss his bags into the open space between benches. She climbs up into the elevated driver's platform at the back. "If you enjoyed my driving as we fled Jericho, then you will find this even more exhilarating."

His voice is drowned out by her firing up the large spinning turbine engine. "Wait. What? No. I did not enjoy that." She pulls away from the dock and the boat fishtails a bit in each direction before rocketing forward under full power. Tyler is slammed down onto the seat by the acceleration and the gale force wind created by their speed sends Thing airborne. Tyler catches him before he can be sucked into the giant rotating blades powering the boat.

They haven't had to travel for more than five minutes before Tyler gets his first look at the apex predators he'll be hunting along-side. A massive bull gator at least fifteen feet from nose to tail is sunning itself on a patch of raised earth extending out of the murky swamp on the far side of the shallow waterway. A few yards away, three smaller alligators are clustered at the water's edge. They pay the speeding boat no mind, clearly convinced of their place at the top of the food chain.

"They really do taste like chicken." Wednesday yells over the noise of the engine when she catches him eyeing his new neighbors.

They speed through canals and estuaries for the better part of an hour. The landscape is a bleak and uninviting expanse of reedy grass and dark colored water, but also kind of beautiful in an understated way. Thing is clinging to Tyler's forearm, and he is gripping anything he can as Wednesday drifts the boat around sharp bends in the waterway and powers through meandering canals barely wider than the boat itself at top speed.

They coast around a bend in the river and the waterway shrinks to a small path overshadowed by a forest of slash pine and cypress. Wednesday slows the engine and after some tricky maneuvering, they emerge into an open bay with an amazing view of open water and a sea of sawgrass. Off to one side on a raised spit of land sits an enormous cypress log cabin. Tyler's jaw drops as they approach and beach the airboat. He had expected some creepy shack. This looks like it could be straight out of some high end travel influencer's Instagram.

"Your uncle lives here?" Tyler surveys the peaked tin roof, huge windows overlooking the private bay, and the wrap around porch. It's all darkly stained logs and natural stone.

"I'm sure the accommodations are not what you were expecting." Wednesday shakes her head. "I apologize that you'll be forced to live like this. Fester has always been the black sheep of the family. His aesthetic choices are consistently... unusual."

"I think I'll manage." His sarcasm is overshadowed by his amazement.

Just then Fester comes barging through the screen door and onto the porch. "Wednesday! You made it!" He throws his arms out in excitement and then darts down the few stairs and over to where they are starting to unload Tyler's few bags of possessions out of the boat. The path he takes to approach them is not a straight line and looks as if he is intentionally avoiding certain areas of the yard.

Wednesday catches Tyler's questioning look at her relative's approach. "There are land mines."

Of course there are. Tyler shakes his head.

"And this must be the Hyde." Fester looks him over excitedly. "Hey! I remember you!"

"It's, uh, nice to see you again." Tyler stammers.

"You too, young fella." Fester claps him on the shoulder.

"Thank you for agreeing to help me. I promise I'm not a danger to you or anybody anymore." Tyler tries to push the horrible awkwardness of this situation aside.

"Are you sure?" Fester smiles. It only makes him seem creepier. "It would be a lot more fun if you were."

"I informed you about the situation when we spoke a few days ago." Wednesday addresses her uncle very seriously.

Fester huffs. "Yes, yes. Poor thing doesn't have a master any more. Not even the slightest residual desire to go rampage and dismember people. Terrible shame."

"You two are definitely related." Tyler mumbles under his breath. Then he remembers something and rummages through his bag of supplies. "I wanted to show my gratitude for everything you are doing for me. I know it's not much, but..." He holds out a bottle of generic brand ketchup.

Fester's eyes light up. "See Wednesday. What did I tell you? This one's a keeper." He eagerly takes the bottle and holds it like a sommelier would inspect a bottle of fine wine. "I hear this is an excellent vintage. It should pair nicely with the wild boar gumbo I've got on the stove right now. You and Thing are staying for dinner, aren't you?" He addresses the last part to Wednesday.

"Regrettably, I must decline, as I have a flight to catch." Wednesday informs her uncle.

"I still don't know why you want to keep this from your parents." He questions. "They would likely be more than happy to assist in this little adventure."

"Plausible deniability." Wednesday answers. "Given the recent history, our family will almost certainly be questioned to determine if we have any knowledge about Tyler's escape or whereabouts. You've seen what happens when my father attempts to lie."

"Ugh, that winking thing he does. Dead giveaway every time." Fester sympathizes. "I can't argue with your reasoning."

"So you will keep this between us?" Wednesday confirms.

He pantomimes zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key.

She nods. "As always, I appreciate your discretion."

As Wednesday and Fester discuss plans for some upcoming family reunion, Tyler feels a tug on the leg of his pants. It's Thing, sitting on the raised edge of the boat, trying to get his attention. He looks sad. Tyler sits on the ledge next to the depressed hand.

"'Sup buddy?"

Thing points at Tyler then waves as if saying goodbye.

Tyler sighs. "I'm gonna miss you too."

Thing scoots over so that he's leaning against Tyler's leg.

Tyler reaches down at pats the hand. "I can't imagine how this trip would have gone if you hadn't been here." They sit quietly for a minute before Tyler speaks up again. "It's been a long time since I've had any real friends, let alone an actual best friend." He glances down at the hand. The appendage looks up at him in surprise. "What? You think I'd talk about me and Wednesday with just anyone?"

The hand does his best to hug the side of Tyler's leg. Tyler rests his hand on Thing's wrist. It's the best way he can figure to return the gesture.

"Should I be jealous?" They hadn't heard Wednesday's approach.

Tyler scoffs. "You? Jealous? Wednesday Addams, are you implying that you might actually experience an emotion?"

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me goodbye."

Laughing, he pats Thing one last time then stands. He closes the distance between him and Wednesday in two short steps. His eyes lock onto hers and he pulls her to him. Their lips meet and all his concerns fade away. There's no worrying about what's to come or how long it will be until they are together again. It's just the two of them in that moment. It lasts indefinitely and not nearly long enough.

They break the kiss, but he keeps her pulled tightly against him. "What am I going to do without you?" He rests his cheek against the top of top of her head with a sigh.

"Masturbate frequently." She deadpans.

He laughs. "You probably aren't wrong, but not what I was talking about."

"You'll be fine. You once told me that you were tougher than I thought. Perhaps you should apply your own warning to yourself." She steps back out of his embrace and gives him a small but honest smile that reaches all the way to the depths of her eyes. "Goodbye Tyler."

Tyler tries to smile back, but ends up pawing at his face, hoping he can play off the moisture welling up in his eyes as the effect of blowing sand. "Bye Wednesday."

"Aw, cheer up, kid. It's not like we don't have a crystal ball around here. You two lovebirds can chat all you want every night." Fester attempts to console Tyler by draping an arm around his shoulder.

Fester gives Wednesday an enthusiastic wave goodbye as she steps back from the pair. Tyler tries to smile as he gives a more subdued wave, but the bit of concern he's feeling about being in her weird uncle's grip shows through. He realizes that he probably looks as awkward and confused as the day they met. Not the best final image for her to remember him by, but considering everything they've been through, it could be a lot worse.

She takes a moment to commit the scene to memory, then turns around and climbs onto the airboat. The engine starts and she speeds away without a backward glance.