The time's come to play

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

𝕋ℍ𝔼 next day, Principal Weems drove Wednesday into the town of Jericho, parking in front of a three-story white building. She turned to him with a smile. "Dr. Kinbott's office is on the second floor. Other Nevermore students swear by her."

Wednesday faced her, his expression impassive. "You'll be here until I'm done?"

"Perhaps afterward we can visit the Weathervane for hot chocolate," Principal Weems suggested, still smiling. "Principal Weems, this feeble attempt at bonding is beneath you," Wednesday replied curtly.

Undeterred, Principal Weems kept her smile as Wednesday got out of the car. He paused and turned back to her. "And chauffeuring your students around is below your pay grade."

Before he could close the door, Principal Weems interjected, "Given your history, I'm sure you're intent on running away. I'm here to prevent that from happening." Wednesday gave her a long look, sizing up her determination. "I wish you luck," he said flatly, then slammed the car door and made his way toward the building.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"I read the notes from your school counselor." Dr. Kinbott, a woman with blonde hair, wearing a light blue blouse with a necklace, led Wednesday into her office.

"Mrs. Bronstein. She had a nervous breakdown after our last session and had to take a six-month sabbatical," Wednesday stated as he walked into the lounge. Dr. Kinbott gestured to a seat. "Take a seat." She smiled as they both sat on the couches across from one another. "How did you feel about that?" Wednesday looked at her flatly. "Vindicated. But someone who crochets for a hobby isn't a worthy adversary."

Dr. Kinbott smiled. "Adversary? I hope we can forge a relationship based on trust and mutual respect."

Wednesday scoffed as she continued, "This is a safe space, Wednesday. A sanctuary where we can discuss anything. What you're thinking, feeling, your views on the world, personal philosophy."

"That's easy. I think this is a waste of time. I see the world as a place that must be endured, and my personal philosophy is kill or be killed." Wednesday replied.

"So, for instance, when someone bullies your brother, your response is to dump piranhas in the pool," Dr. Kinbott stated.

Wednesday replied, looking at the woman, a smile forming inside as he thought about his actions, though he maintained a stoic expression, "You know the old saying, never bring a knife to a sword fight. Unless it's concealed."

Dr. Kinbott spoke with a scolding tone, "Point is, you assaulted a boy and showed no remorse for your actions. That's why you're here."

Wednesday interjected, "He lost a testicle. I did the world a favor. People like Dalton shouldn't procreate. I've answered all your questions." He stood up to leave, but Dr. Kinbott stopped him.

"We're not done yet." She smiled. Wednesday sent her a look, then exhaled annoyed as he sat back down. "Therapy is a valuable tool to help you understand yourself. It can teach you new ways to deal with your emotions. It can also help you build the life that you want."

Wednesday looked at her and replied, "I know the life I want." He glanced away for a moment, noticing a file on the shelf. Before he could read the name on it, Dr. Kinbott interrupted.

"Tell me about it. Everything said in these sessions is strictly confidential." She leaned in a bit closer with a smile. "Do your plans involve becoming an author? I understand you've written three novels about a teen boy detective, Viper De La Muerte. Can you tell me about him?"

Wednesday sighed, looked to the side, and replied, "Viper is smart, perceptive, chronically misunderstood."

Dr. Kinbott sat upright and asked, "Any luck getting your work published?"

After a brief pause, Wednesday responded, "Editors are short-sighted, fear-based life forms. One once described my writing as gratuitously morbid and suggested I seek psychiatric help. Ironic, isn't it?"

Dr. Kinbott shook her head slightly and asked, "How did you take that?"

The corner of Wednesday's lips lifted slightly as he answered, "I sent her a 'thank you.'" He smirked, recalling the memory of placing rat traps, spiders in a gift box and sending it to the editor. She had opened the box, only to get caught in one of the traps and have spiders crawl up her arm, leaving her screaming. "I've always been open to constructive criticism."

"I'm glad to hear that. Because I was sent the manuscripts as part of your psych evaluation. The relationship I found most intriguing was that of Viper and his mother, Dominica. Why don't we dig into that?" Dr. Kinbott's words caught Wednesday off guard. He was surprised and slightly triggered, uncomfortable with discussing the topic. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it.

"Wednesday, part of this journey requires us going to uncomfortable places emotionally," Dr. Kinbott said.

"I don't travel well," Wednesday retorted with irritation.

Dr. Kinbott looked at him before he spoke again, "Would you mind if I use the powder room first?"

She gestured towards the bathroom door. Wednesday got up, walked to the bathroom, and quickly locked the door. He looked around, accidentally knocking down a candle with his bag. Dr. Kinbott's voice came from the other side, "Wednesday? Is everything okay? You can't hide in there for the rest of the session."

"I'm alright. Just preparing myself for our uncomfortable journey," he replied.

Wednesday noticed a window. He tapped his bag and whispered, "Nail file." Thing popped out, handing him the file, which he used to unlock the window. Sliding it open, he climbed out onto the balcony roof. He looked down at the crowd below before sliding down the drain pipe. He moved quickly, avoiding Principal Weems' car as she was on her phone.

As he walked, he bumped into a farmer, causing Wednesday's head to snap back. He was suddenly thrown into a vision of the farmer driving, distracted by his phone, unaware of a truck heading straight towards him. The collision was inevitable, and the farmer was left limp in his car with a broken neck. The vision ended, and Wednesday's head returned to normal.

The farmer, who was picking up apples that had dropped, looked at Wednesday and snarled, "Who let you out? You goddamn weirdo."

Wednesday looked at the man with cold eyes before ignoring him and walking off.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

In a café and bakery store called Weathervane, a boy at the counter was having trouble with an espresso machine, and Lilith was there trying to help him fix it. The boy flinched, startling everyone, as the machine spewed out smoke and started to hiss. As the smoke cleared, Wednesday appeared in front of the counter, making the boy and Lilith jump.

"Holy crap!" Lilith exclaimed, holding a hand to her heart as if she nearly had a heart attack. The boy next to her spoke up, "Do you make a habit of scaring the hell out of people?"

"It's more of a hobby," Wednesday replied.

Lilith, calming her heart down, remarked, "That's an interesting hobby." She looked at Wednesday but noticed that the bags under his eyes were a bit darker and his complexion pale, signs that he hadn't been sleeping well or at all. However, her attention was caught by the boy who said, "You go to Nevermore. Didn't realize they changed the uniform."

"They didn't," Lilith answered, running a hand through her hair.

Wednesday turned to her, "You work here?"

Lilith shook her head, giving a small smile, "No, I just came here after my session with Dr. Kinbott and a visit to the bookstore across the street. I also came here to see my friend." She patted the boy's back, who smiled.

Wednesday hummed before turning to the boy, "I need a quad over ice. It's an emergency."

The boy and Lilith just stared at him before Wednesday explained, "It's four shots of espresso."

"Yeah, I... I know what a quad is," the boy said, "but, I mean, spoiler alert, the espresso machine's having a seizure, so all we have is drip."

"But a drip is for people who hate themselves and know their lives have no real purpose or meaning," Wednesday replied, causing a man who was drinking his coffee to awkwardly place his cup down and walk off.

"What's wrong with your machine?" Wednesday asked, eyeing the espresso machine.

"It's a temperamental beast with a mind of its own, and it doesn't help that the instructions are in Italian," Lilith replied.

Wednesday walked over and grabbed the instruction book out of her hand, their fingers brushing against one another. He quickly read through it and spoke, "I need a tri-wing screwdriver and a four-millimetre Allen wrench."

Lilith smiled at Wednesday, clearly impressed. The boy next to her asked, "Wait, you read Italian?"

Wednesday glanced at him before looking back at Lilith, noting the impressed look in her eyes. "Of course. It's the native tongue of Machiavelli."

Lilith observed the two before she spoke, "Well, it seems you two have this covered. I'll be at my booth." She walked away, and Wednesday's eyes followed her, watching as she returned to her booth and began drawing something in her book. He couldn't shake off the feeling of worry as he observed her before turning to the boy and speaking, "Here's the deal. I'm going to fix your coffee machine, then you're going to make me coffee and Lilith some tea, then call me a taxi."

The boy looked at Wednesday and replied, "Uh, no taxis in Jericho. Try Uber?" He handed Wednesday the screwdriver, who began to fix the machine.

"I don't have a phone. I refuse to be a slave to technology," Wednesday said as he worked.

The boy watched him, curious. "Then you're out of luck. Where are you going anyway?"

"That's on a need-to-know basis. What about trains?" Wednesday replied without looking up.

"Nearest station is Burlington. It's half an hour away," the boy answered.

Wednesday's eyes were focused on the machine as he spoke, "You have a valve issue. I've seen it before."

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

By: SilverMist707

Sending happiness your way <3