Most People Say Thank You, But I Would Die for You

Chapter 7

Sleep? Sleep was a joke by this point. It was far past four in the morning. His anxiety had only gotten worse as time went on, making the thought of sleep impossible. Now it was over twenty four hours since he last slept, which meant he was suffering a migraine.

Forfeiting his bed, he threw on his blue robe over his pajamas and went to the bathroom for a drink of water. Once he restored his hydration, he decided to walk around the house. Something he often did since he was younger when he was too restless to sleep, and he didn't have a curfew to remain in a dorm.

Later, he realized walking around in the house while everyone was asleep when there was a stalker and threats, was perhaps not his brightest idea. To be fair, he wasn't thinking on his part. He just felt tired and the anxiety in the back of his chest was driving him mad. Not that it was much of an excuse.

He came to a hallway only to freeze in his steps. His father's office door was opened. Confusion immediately swept over him. Had he forgotten to close it properly and lock it? He could have sworn he had. Or maybe a staff member left it open. Now that he remembered, he did send a staff member to look at the window in order to get it fixed.

Walking over, he grabbed the door knob to shut the door. His heart dropped to the floor as his eye made contact with a familiar pair of eyes. Long red hair that was pulled back in a ponytail and her signature black glasses.

A smirk played on her face as she played with her pistol. "Xavier. You're up rather late. Or is it early?"

He swallowed as he eyed the gun in her hands. "Thornhill…"

"You know," she began as she stood up. Laurel cocker her gun before pointing it at his head. "I never did take you for the killing type."

Xavier didn't dare to move. "I… I'm not?"

She snorted. "Crackstone. Ring a bell?"

"Oh, you mean the pilgrim that you resurrected from the dead," he said. "I don't think that makes me a killer," Xavier said nervously.

"You killed a man."

"He was already dead," Xavier insisted. "I just made him dead again…" He snapped his mouth shut as she made the gun jerk with a flick of her wrist.

She smirked as if she enjoyed making him flinch. Although, he supposed she did. "Take a seat."

Xavier wanted nothing more than to turn around and run. But with the gun pointed at his head, he could only swallow. "I'm fine where I am."

"Listen kid. I wasn't asking." Her voice grew stern and cold. Enough to make a shiver run up his spine. Maybe being snarky wasn't giving him any favors, but it was all he had the power to do.

He stood there a moment before he clenched his fists and took the seat she had been sitting in only moments prior. He folded his hands, his grip making his fingers turn white. Swallowing, he tried to pretend as if his heart wasn't racing by just staring at the wall in the dark. Despite his stiff body, he managed to slouch a little to add to his act.

"The point is," Laurel continued casually, "Is that you gave him the final blow."

"So this is all because I ripped up your art project?" He raised a brow. Of course he wouldn't have managed it without Wednesday, but he was not about to bring her into the conversation.

"You only transferred his soul to another canvas," she cut in.

"What?" Xavier couldn't hide his startled look. He grabbed the arms of his chair, gripping it tightly.

"Given the soul is to weak to do anything on its own, I need to give it the boost it needs to take over," Laurel explained.

That was it. Xavier needed to get away from her. He wasn't one hundred percent certain he knew what she meant, but he knew he wasn't going to like it. But not knowing what she was going on about was what scared him the most.

His eyes scanned the desk, searching for anything to be used as a weapon. All there was was an electric pencil sharpener that hadn't been used in a long time. If he could just catch her off guard, he could use it as a projectile.

Thornhill reached into her bag, pulling out a syringe. Xavier sat up straight, his body somehow going stiffer. He didn't want to know what was in it and he was not about to become her next experiment. But if she needed to use him, then she wouldn't kill him with her gun, would she?

"Why me?" He asked suddenly.

She looked at him as if he was stupid, which ruffled his pride a little bit. "I just explained to you that you have the soul of Joseph Crackstone trapped inside you and you're asking why and not how?"

"I-" Xavier was at a loss for words. Was that why he'd heard his voice and had him keep appearing in his dream? He hadn't been imagining it because of his stress and trauma?

"Now hold still. This will hurt-"

Xavier did the exact opposite. He chucked the pencil sharpener at her, hitting her on the head. The impact ruined her aim and the tranquilizer hit the wall to the right of him. Proud that he called her bluff, he ran out of the room just in time to be missed by another shot.

Unfortunately, the shots didn't make much noise. His bare feet hitting the wooden floor made a louder sound. So he screamed. If that didn't wake up the Addams and the house sitter, he didn't know what would.

Wednesday had been tossing and turning in her bed all night. The more she learned, the more questions she had. She had been foolish to think she was anywhere out of the clear. Someone didn't just want to kill her, they also had been spying on Xavier. It made her feel uneasy having the thought that they might want to hurt him, or even kill him.

A scream suddenly reached her ears. She bolted upright in her bed, her heart felt as if it completely stopped. The blood drained from her face as she jumped out of her bed. The scream had been Xavier's.

Throwing the door open, she ran. What was she thinking? She came to protect him and she let him out of her sight after what already happened that night? She literally gave her enemies the perfect opportunity to kill him.

The memory of her vision burned in her brain. Him laying on the cold tile, covered in blood. His face was pale and lifeless. A sight that made her feel lifeless, and not in a way that she enjoyed it. It made her chest hurt.

Her feet pounding against the ground, she grabbed the first object she came across. Being in a hurry, she forgot to grab a weapon from her room. She ran by one of the doors that lead outside, which conveniently held umbrellas with sharp tips. Now all she had to do was find what room Xavier was in.

She slid on the floor with her socks, running smack into someone. They both toppled over. Wednesday's first responders were to pull them in a choke hold and suffocate them only to realize that it was Xavier.

"What the heck?" She hissed. "What is wrong with you?"

He immediately covered her mouth, rolling over to get her off him. She was going to murder him, but Xavier was surprisingly stronger than she thought by how he just yanked her into another room. But he wasn't fast enough. She saw her. Thornhill.

The woman had blood trickling down her temple and a gun pointed at them. Wednesday reacted before thinking. Normally, an umbrella wouldn't work in deflecting bullets, yet she opened it in hopes of a shield. Lucky her, it was a dart gun.

Laurel growled angrily when she realized she ran out of darts. The sound from behind her and Xavier and Wednesday looked over the umbrella to see what it was. A smirk fell across Wednesday's face when she saw it was Morticia wielding a sword, aimed to kill.

"Darn you, Addams," Thornhill hissed, clicking a button on her wrist.

Before anyone could react, a window shattered. A familiar figure came through it, grabbing Thornhill. All Wednesday could do was stare, cursing her body for freezing. But when the Hyde turned his face to look her directly in her eyes, it made her stomach twist with guilt. Guilt for kissing him and guilt that she couldn't finish him. What was wrong with her?

Tyler, the Hyde, jumped back out the window with Thornhill as Morticia rushed him with her sword. But he was faster and easily made the escape.

Wednesday slowly refolded the umbrella. "What happened?" She looked at Xavier, but he was no longer standing next to her. He had sunk to the floor, gripping his hair while breathing frantically.