AN:

Another Addams Family fic in honour of the upcoming Halloween 2011. I don't like horror movies, so I'm writing for the Addams fandom instead, because we need more stories! I do not own The Addams Family, the movie is the property of Paramount and the characters are the property of Charles Addams. This is written based on Pugsley's reaction to Amanda Buckman's 'I think their whole family's like some weird medical experiment. I think they're like circus people!' For a usually tranquil, easy-going boy, he gets angry pretty quick.

Pugsley Addams was nothing unusual. He was, perhaps, more 'normal' than the rest of his family, whatever the hell normal was supposed to mean. Though, like any Addams, he was instilled with a love of all things dark and macabre, he had a sunny personality and was definitely less sombre than the big sister he idolised. However different from other people the Addamses were, they were his family and he didn't find anything strange in the things that they did.

But school had made him aware of people's reactions. His Grandmamma had once brought his lunch in, after a busy morning had caused him to forget. She'd told him afterwards it had been like 'walking through the gates of Hell'. But Lurch and Thing had been occupied, Mother and Father had gone out and Uncle Fester would never have gotten past Gate without someone with him. So, she'd come to give it to him and he'd been very grateful. His classmates had had a few things to say about his grandmother then and none of them kind. Since that time he'd grown to loathe words like 'freak', 'weird' and 'strange'. They'd thought his sister, they said, had been a one-off, but now they knew his whole family was just as odd as Wednesday. He'd gotten angry more times than he could count, but he always tried to keep his cool. If he fought with anyone, his parents would be called. Though they'd forgive him any violence (they'd probably find it rather wonderful), they'd be told why he'd started it. He could never let them know what he had to suffer every day.

Parents' night was always difficult. The barely-disguised sneers were never noticed by his kindly mother and father and if they were they never told him. He'd endure the whispering behind their backs, the looks and he'd keep smiling at them as they eagerly listened to the things the teachers had to say, of which they always approved. Not doing so well in Literacy, but he excels in Science. If only we could get him to stop causing fires…

There'd been a get-together night, just for parents, a year after he'd started and Morticia and Gomez had gone along. Apparently they, as they always did, had gotten passionate with each other after the DJ had thought to put on some classic dances for the couples. The tango had been chosen, jokingly, and his parents had stolen the show. He and Wednesday had been the talk of the school the next day and the boys in his class had made fun of his mother and father for being 'nutty.' Another word added to the list.

Even if enduring ridicule was grating and hurtful, he would never change his family for anything. He was glad that his parents loved one another, in a day and age when more and more were getting divorces. The very idea that they would ever be apart was the most absurd thought Pugsley had ever had and he spent his days thinking about dynamite and electric chairs. If their being passionate with each other was something his classmates thought was strange, that was their problem. If they weren't used to two adults being involved then it just showed that their home life couldn't be as perfect as they made out.

They joked that his sister was a 'zombie' and it had taken all he had not to knock their heads off when he'd heard that. Wednesday might enjoy using him as a dummy in her deadly experiments, but she was his big sister and he adored her. While to others she seemed emotionless, Pugsley knew her and knew that she was only comfortable enough for affection with very few people. And man was she great fun to torture! They had their periods where they hated each other, but that was normal brother and sister relations and he had no doubt that he, she and Pubert would be just the same in years to come.

His Grandmamma, Lurch, Uncle Fester, Thing…they were all part of a family that to him was as normal, loving and caring as could be.

His father and mother clearly worshipped their children, but never to the point of spoiling them rotten. Lurch was devoted to them, Thing was always there to lend a helping hand and Uncle Fester was more like a best friend than an adult. Grandmamma provided food and knowledge and Wednesday was the commander of their double act. Each one of them made him who he was and he'd damn the kids at school to spend eternity in the Harmony Hut before he ever said there was anything bad about them.

Today was another one of those days and he'd come home, a little more despondent than his usual self, with Wednesday wordlessly keeping his pace. They'd come in the door and heard the sounds of the house, sounds that never seemed to change and that always meant home.

In one place, they heard the thuds as Father played darts with Lurch.

From here they could hear the screeching of Cleopatra, Mother's prized African strangler, as well as the 'snip' as she cut the rosebuds from their thorny stems.

Pugsley stood and listened as Wednesday wandered off and heard an explosion (Uncle Fester) the shriek of what sounded like an agonised cat (Grandmamma had found dinner) and the strumming sound of Thing rushing across a floor. The hand came skidding to a halt outside the darts room and jumped in on Father, sword in hand. Fencing began. The clang of swords brought his mother curiously searching from the greenhouse and she saw him stood at the threshold:

'Pugsley? Is everything alright, darling?'

She was stood there in her customary black gown, pale-faced, red-lipped and he smiled. She might not look like the other mothers, but to him she'd always be the best.

'Yeah.'

She smiled, her lips curling (the largest sort of smile Morticia Addams could manage) and beckoned him.

'Come, let's see whether Thing's beaten your father yet, shall we?'

'Sure.'

AN:

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