"It seems the fight is becoming considerably larger," Morticia said softly, looking toward the distant crimson horizon. Even from here she could feel the pressure from Ethan's battle spreading across Hell in violent waves.
She folded her hands in front of her.
The Addams family operated on standards most others considered deeply alarming. Even by those standards Ethan felt abnormal. At first she'd assumed he was simply another dangerous outcast with unfortunate habits.
Then came the regeneration, the blood powers, the holy relics, the ability to survive things that should absolutely kill a person — and now he was apparently negotiating with Dukes of Hell after nearly destroying part of the infernal realm.
She wasn't sure where he fit anymore. Somewhere entirely outside normal classification.
And somehow Wednesday liked him anyway.
Morticia's lips curved slightly.
Not liked. Her daughter had become attached — though Wednesday would probably describe it as a temporary tolerance toward one specific irritating organism.
Still. Morticia could see it clearly. The way Wednesday looked at him. The ease between them beneath all the sarcasm and violence.
They suited each other.
Which was both comforting and mildly concerning as a parent.
Nearby the demon slowly opened one eye.
The two women appeared distracted by the distant battlefield. The pressure from the clash still rolled across the wasteland, pulling attention toward the horizon.
He pushed himself upright without sound. Every movement deliberate. He stretched one clawed hand outside the barrier first. When nothing happened relief crossed his face.
He glanced back. Neither of them were looking.
If he escaped before the monster returned he might actually survive today.
He lifted one leg and took a careful step forward.
A knife pinned his leg to the ground.
Wednesday hadn't turned around.
"Take another step," she said, still watching the horizon, "and I'll show you why I prefer precision cutting over blunt violence."
The demon stared at the knife in his leg.
Wednesday glanced sideways at him.
"There's something satisfying about removing organs individually," she said. "It gives people time to reflect on their decisions."
The demon trembled.
"Wednesday," Morticia said softly. "Must you always be so clinical?"
Wednesday considered that.
"You're right," she said. "The uncertainty is probably more effective."
The demon immediately dropped back onto his knees and didn't move again.
A few moments later, Ethan suddenly appeared in front of them.
The demon nearly collapsed from fear again.
Because floating directly behind Ethan was still the Duke of Hell.
Crowley's smaller eye hovered silently through the air while dark energy drifted around it like smoke. Even reduced to this form, the pressure coming from the Duke was enough to make the lesser demon beside them shake nervously.
Wednesday's eyes immediately moved toward the floating eye.
"There is still one eye following you," she observed flatly.
"Well," Ethan replied casually, "we sort of made peace."
Wednesday slowly turned toward him.
The look she gave Ethan strongly resembled someone discovering a corpse had voluntarily signed legal documents with a serial killer.
A truce with a demon sounded exactly like the type of reckless decision Ethan would make after repeated exposure to head injuries.
Ethan noticed the expression immediately.
"Nope," he said before she could speak. "I can already tell what you're thinking, and no, I did not lose my brain during the fight." He pointed lazily between himself and Crowley.
"It's more of a temporary arrangement. I scratch his back, he scratches mine."
Wednesday remained silent for a second.
"Well, if he enjoys scratching that much," she said, "I wouldn't mind assisting with a chainsaw."
Crowley immediately turned toward her.
"What the hell is wrong with this tiny human?" the Duke snapped irritably. "She weighs less than a funeral wreath yet talks like a war criminal."
Morticia smiled faintly beside her daughter, clearly not offended in the slightest.
Crowley's eye narrowed further while staring at Wednesday.
"When powerful beings are discussing important matters," he said coldly, "weaker creatures should learn when to stay quiet."
Wednesday's expression didn't change at all.
She slowly looked toward Ethan instead.
"Ethan," she said calmly, "I want that thing mounted on a table."
Her gaze returned toward Crowley afterward.
"I suddenly feel motivated," Wednesday continued, "to demonstrate exactly what this weak little human can do."
Crowley scoffed.
"Does anyone here actually care about threats from a mortal child?"
The floating eye drifted slightly higher, dismissing her entirely.
Then Crowley noticed Ethan staring at him. Not casually. The way someone stares when they're quietly working out whether sealing a Duke of Hell inside a specimen jar is actually feasible.
The Duke reconsidered his tone immediately.
Right. There was one person present who would absolutely help Wednesday do it.
"Let's be rational," Crowley said, shifting toward Ethan. "I'm arranging your exit from Hell and giving you information about your enemies. Are you really going to throw that away over one emotionally unstable mortal?"
Wednesday's eyes narrowed slightly.
Morticia adjusted her sleeve.
"Why don't we all just calm down," Ethan said, raising one hand slightly. "No need for violence. We're technically on the same team before this turns into some unnecessary circular war."
***
A/N: And on Patreon, The Boys arc started.
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