*Author's note at the end of the chapter!

Disclaimer: No intentional disrespect is directed towards any of the actors, living or dead, in the writing of the story. I don't own anything Addams nor the actors from the 1964 TV series, John Astin and Carolyn Jones, except a passion for these two wonderful people as Morticia and Gomez Addams. Enjoy.

Chapter 8

"…John?"

John froze, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at Morticia's pale face angled just beneath his, her curious gaze marred with a strained grimace, her lip trembling with effort to suppress the gnawing pains within.

He couldn't believe his ears, nor the familiar, slightly surprised look she gave as she studied him.

What…what was it that she just called him? Did she just…was she…

"Carolyn-" he began, trying to make sure he heard right.

Before he could finish, she shuddered, a kind of shock running through her. With a strangled gasp, she dissolved into his arms, falling well and truly into a dead faint. He half-cried in surprise and just caught her as she slackened completely into his embrace.

"Carolyn!" he exclaimed, startled as he struggled to steady her. She'd gone deathly still, her features settling into a serene, marbled expression, the rest of her a delicate dead weight.

Carolyn, Carolyn no. He shook her, trying to rouse her. She didn't stir. Her head lolled lifelessly against his chest.

What was happening to her?

The first thing that came to his mind immediately was her health. Carolyn had never been the strongest nor the healthiest for all her achievements and excellent performances. Her greatest enemy, ironically, had been her own body, which worked against the passion she had for wanting to do things, to be a somebody. That much he knew. She had tried to rein it in and to take control of herself, but now, as it had then, it seemed to be overcoming her.

If she'd somehow reverted back to Carolyn, this fainting spell could be credited to her ill health. But had Carolyn been sick when she was filming? He strained to remember.

No, she hadn't been. He was sure she hadn't been.

Then, was it…could it be... He shook his head violently. No. He thought. No. The creeping thought gave him shivers and he instinctively held her closer to him.

It couldn't be the cancer. It couldn't be. She hadn't had it while they worked on The Addams Family. She'd only got in much later.

"Carolyn, stay with me, Carolyn." He pressed in a hurried whisper, trying to settle the scattered thoughts racing through his mind.

He scooped her up into a bridal carry and jogged upstairs two steps at a time, as if trying to outrun the awful thought, the mere possibility of her deadly condition. Reaching the top of the banister, he swept into the master bedroom and laid her down carefully on the large, rather ugly double bed. It was not a comfortable bed, the mattress (if it could be called so) was hard, as per the Addams' tastes. He tucked her in and gently eased a pillow under her head.

"Carolyn." he murmured anxiously, settling at the edge of the bed and taking her clammy hands in his. It alarmed him that they felt so cold.

Why…what was happening now? His mind had turned fuzzy with worry. He had barely understood everything that had happened to him thus far, much less registered that Morticia had become Carolyn…What was going on now?

John took a deep breath and made himself calm, forcing himself to think. His good sense had kept him afloat so far in this rather fantastic turn of events. It had to help him now. It took him several moments for him to somewhat settle and register everything.

Firstly, he established, matter-of-factly. Firstly, Morticia had become Carolyn. He was almost sure she had. She was Carolyn. The emotional weight of the thought hit him and reverberated in his mind.

He tried to focus again. Secondly… now what? He glanced her, taking shallow, ragged breaths and his heart ached. Now… he had to figure out was why, why this pain. He couldn't explain it, and it was too early to say, but he had a feeling that this pain wasn't an ordinary, illness sort of pain.

Ever logical, he quickly made a mental list of what the cause of the pain could be.

One, the pain was a consequence and/or a process of reverting from Morticia to Carolyn. It was the simplest, most straightforward explanation; the one he hoped was true so that it might never happen again now that she was Carolyn.

Two, this was just a one off situation, something that happened off the cuff to Morticia/Carolyn and had nothing to do with anything.

Third…third. He hesitated. He didn't want to put this down as a possibility but he had to. Third, he admittedly reluctantly, was that the pain was a consequence of some illness that Carolyn was suffering from. He didn't want to think it was her cancer or anything else she might have suffered before. But he couldn't know for sure.

He realized he could only wait for her to wake, that this was beyond his control. He swallowed his nervousness and tried to calm himself. He took one of her hands from under the blanket and pressed the back of her cool hand to his cheek.

"Carolyn," he whispered, brittle with emotion. "Carolyn, wake up. Please, wake up, Carolyn." He willed in the strained silence, his heart aching.

Suddenly, she winced, a little crease between her eyebrows, her temples beaded with perspiration as she strained against the pain. Her eyes remained shut and a low moan escaped her. Her free hand found the sheets and twisted the dully-patterned duvet into wrinkles beyond recognition, her pain wrung onto the covers.

"Carolyn…" He started, but realized that she remained in a fitful state of unconsciousness; her body was simply reacting to whatever pain was going on inside of her.

If John thought that losing Carolyn had been painful, watching her struggle was an absolute torture. He watched helplessly as she writhed in her unseen pain, literally battling its stubborn binds and failing to break free.

What could one do for a pain that could not be seen? John was at a loss. Were there painkillers somewhere, even in the Addams' household? Would Mama have something for him? Surely she would have prepared something for emergencies.

She gave a wounded cry and he panicked. No, he couldn't do this alone. He needed help, Fester, or Mama... He needed somebody. Anybody.

"Carolyn," he said urgently, gripping her hands. "Carolyn, I'll be back, I'll be back, ok? Wait for me." He tried, hoping she could hear through her pain. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone but he hadn't a choice. He pulled away from the bedside and dashed out the door.

Before he'd even set foot beyond the threshold of the room, he banged his foot at the edge of the doorframe, squarely stubbing his littlest toe in his haste. He hunkered at once, yelling silently, the tip of his toe already flaring. He held his foot, trying to assuage the pain through the leather of his shoes.

Through his watering eyes, he glanced Carolyn as he waited for the pain in his foot to subside, the ringing pain slowing fading from his head. He was surprised and relieved to see her body slightly settling, as if her pain had abated somewhat; it was still there, but somehow less intense.

He stumbled back to her, kneeling by her bedside, eager and hopeful. "Carolyn?"

He rejoiced too soon. She twitched, sensitive to the ebbing pain. To his alarm and dismay, she began responding in short, taut movements again, her pain returning with a vengeance as his own toe recovered from its numb soreness.

"No, no no no no." He started as his pain melted away and hers heightened. He watched her shiver, wrecked with a fresh wave of the awful sensation and drowning in it.

As he watched, a sudden flash of thought hit him and a curious look settled across his face. He wiggled his sore toe thoughtfully and tried to draw a connection, if there was even a remote chance that his incredulous idea might work.

I wonder… He straightened slowly and mechanically, then snapped up and looked around, trying to find the perfect spot to test his theory. He found what he wanted, a chest of drawers, plump and glossy, and positioned himself at its corner. He glanced Carolyn, pained on the bed, braced himself and kicked.

The loud bang of bone against wood punctuated the tense air, which was followed by John's soundless cries. Although he had prepared for it, the swift action hurt and he crumpled with silent agony over his abused, throbbing foot. He steadied himself for a few moments, letting the warm burn run its course before slowly fading into what he felt sure would be a lovely blue black bruise tomorrow.

He looked up at Carolyn whose eyes remained closed. Having not seriously expecting his theory to work, he was half surprised to see that she had fallen still again, her frown faded. Only a hint of her pain remained.

"Carolyn." He limped over to her and knelt by her bedside. He loosened her hands from the wrinkled sheets and held them. "Carolyn, please wake up."

He waited hopefully. She didn't seem to be in pain anymore, but she wasn't waking either.

Please Carolyn, he willed, pressing his lips to her fingers. Please.

He didn't know how long he waited but spent half the night by her bedside in this manner, worried and watchful. Whenever it seemed as though her pain would return, he banged and knocked and crashed into whatever he could, bruising and wounding wherever he could reach. At first, he had fancied it his imagination, psychological; that by hurting himself, he would share in her pain and feel empathetically useful. But hurting himself seemed to do more. He began to realize it was no coincidence; whenever he seemed to be hurting, she would stop. Relief would wash over Carolyn and she would stop struggling for a while, enough to recover her steady breathing. It was not a pattern he liked, but if it kept the pain at bay for a while, he would do it until they could figure out another solution.

He thought he'd simply run his foot against the bedpost whenever she acted up. But after kicking and alternating feet thrice, he realized it wouldn't do. By the fifth or sixth knock, he crumpled into his chair and tried to rethink the situation. He was sure he would knock his foot right off if he kicked anymore. He rolled up a bit of his pant leg to assess the damage done and cringed. Dark bruises were already forming in little islands in an unhealthy, uneven colour.

He began spreading out the wounds, a bit of his shoulder there and then some sparsely across his back. After a while, he realized that holding his injured arm at an awkward angle hurt enough for her to recover, so he resorted to that instead. His arm soured with strain when he did so but he kept it there, determined to keep it till she woke. It didn't appear to be as effective as a solid hard knock, but it was his best, safest bet as one he could keep up with the longest.

He was so tired, so wrecked with pain and had lost all sense of how long she had been out. But still he wouldn't stop worrying about Carolyn.

He couldn't.

She heard him. In the grey haze, she heard him.

Carolyn. Carolyn, please wake up…

She saw a shadow, a silhouette. She recognized his voice, but couldn't see his face. He was frantic, struggling to find her in the fog. She tried to get to him, to make herself found. She realized she couldn't shout to him, couldn't speak at all.

So she hurried to where he was. It was difficult to walk. She had to gather her skirts and pick up her feet. Thorns and brambles slowed her down but she never took her eyes off him. She moved slowly, doggedly towards his voice.

Carolyn. He called, her name echoing all around her.

There, there he was. He'd stopped to catch his breath. He was just in front of her, only a few feet away and yet she couldn't make out his face. She knew that she knew him, but her name eluded her. He didn't seem to see her, bending over, resting his palms on his knees, panting, tired.

Carolyn. She heard him say feebly. Carolyn.

She went over carefully. Almost reverently, she reached out, fingers outstretched and touched him.

And the mist cleared.

"John." She woke with the single word on her lips without realizing that she had said anything out loud. Nothing stirred in response and it was met with a kind of peaceful silence.

Carolyn blinked, surprised. Had she been asleep? She couldn't remember. Where was she? What time was it?

She sat up weakly, her body wary of any sudden attacks. She was relieved that nothing hurt anymore, but she was so so tired.

She registered her dress, the bed, the strange but familiar room. As she did so, she became aware that she wasn't alone. She stifled a gasp as she caught sight of a figure on a chair beside her, slumped over the edge of the bed, as if overtired of keeping vigil. By the sound of his steady breathing, which was on the verge of becoming gentle, rhythmic snores, her companion was revealed to have fallen asleep. He was also holding her hand.

She couldn't see him, the duvet just obscuring his face from her position on the bed, but she knew who he was. It wasn't so much the pinstripe suit that gave him away than it was the touch of his hand. She'd only done several episodes with him so far but being Gomez Addams' precious wife had meant that she had had to work harder and much more deliberately with her, co-star John Astin, to bring about the kind of chemistry the Addamses had.

John had come across as amiable and obliging when she first met him, and she had thought that they would get along well enough for the show. But when they begun rehearsing, their rather determined characters clashed on more than one occasion. Their working styles had been very different, both being actors of contrasting genres and having such different professional experiences. It didn't help that both were such strong-minded individuals and such competitive professionals, so particular in their work. They'd never had big arguments or threw huge tantrums. They'd instead display their disagreements through almost snobbish, cool answers.

Worse, they had to portray a happily married couple devoted to one another. It had taken them a while to sort things out.

Although it had been their love for acting that caused several rows, in the end, it was this common love that shook them down and spurred them try even harder to make it all work. They were actors and they could pretend to be in love, but they knew it was their relationship offstage that would make the difference. And they wanted that difference. So they talked it out and tried again and again.

Through mutual agreement, they mostly tried to introduce two habits into their relationship.

The first was to do little things for each other, things they might do if they actually got along; getting the coffee, the scripts, lending pencils for marking out parts. After a while, it became easier, more natural and the little things became bigger; grabbing breakfasts on particularly rushed mornings, walking home together on late nights, supping at the bar nearby after a tiring day. The routine of going through the motions as partners and friends had been a success. Working together instead of against each other meant that a lot more could be done and could be done well. And they did perform admirably.

The second habit they'd tried to start was to appreciate something about each other everyday. This had been much harder to do but both were stubborn enough to stick to it. She'd been rushing to get her entire Morticia outfit on that morning when he started the ball rolling. From his corner of the dressing room, he had remarked,

"You look nice."

She had stopped dead in her tracks and had turned to look at him. "What?"

With some effort, he'd gestured to her and repeated himself. "You look nice."

It had been so out of place and so unusual for him to comment on her clothes that she found it extremely funny.

"Well, thank you." she had returned, more amazed than gratified. "You...look nice too."

He'd chuckled at her incredulous surprise and had accepted it graciously.

They had had one of the smoothest runs on set that day.

In time, she realized that John could be very accommodating and charming if he wanted to be. And he did make the effort to be as accommodating and charming as he could when she was around. She began to value his contributions and to respect him as an actor. On his part, he also seemed to have a new sense of admiration regarding her acting skills and technicalities. The tension between them dissipated to make way for a more comfortable, even fun, working relationship. As they practiced the various dances, tricks and romantic exploits of the Addamses' amorous relationship, both learnt more about each other, making it easier for them to like each other on a personal level, to regard each other as friends rather than simply colleagues.

And he did become more than a co-star to her. He became her friend, and a very close one at that. She didn't realize she'd learned to recognize his touch somewhere along the way. It surprised her.

She moved the sheets that buffeted his head to get a closer look. He was caught up in a fitful sleep with a rather worried, harried look hung over him, a constant frown etched on his face. She tried to extract her hand from his grasp without waking him but couldn't do so.

"John." She began quietly. He didn't rouse immediately, which worried her. "John?" she shook him a little more. Was he alright? Ought she yell for help? She couldn't get help even if she wanted to. He wouldn't let go of her.

She took a deep breath and mustered her strength. "John." She said as firmly as she could, properly nudging him awake.

He woke at last, groaning slowly at the stiff crick in his neck. Then, remembering where he was, he jerked upright and was struck in dumb awe and shock at Carolyn, who was now looking at him rather curiously.

"Carolyn." He murmured faintly, woodenly as his eyes began to water. She was alarmed at his piercing, unnerving gaze that was threatening to break into tears.

"John?" she treaded unsurely. "John, are you alright?"

He choked, speechless, laughter mingled with sobs. He was alright. He was more than alright. Now that… now that she was here. Wordlessly, he clutched her hands, half threw himself into her lap and wept with delight, his head lowered so that she couldn't see the tears that were flowing freely.

She gasped, startled at John's dramatic gesture. "John?"

His shoulders heaved with emotion and she realized he was crying. Although worried, she didn't press him for answers or push him away. She didn't know why he was acting the way he did, but she seemed to understand that he needed some time for himself. After a while, she prompted him gently.

"John?" She said calmly, touching him lightly on his head. He sobered, checking himself into propriety and looked up. "Are you alright?" She asked, truly concerned.

It took him several moments to gather himself together. With great effort, he pulled himself off of her and tried to find his tongue.

"I'm… I'm sorry." He managed, abashed and reverent at the same time. "You fainted, and I was just so worried that…" his voice dropped and his face blazed. She looked at him, a grown man reduced to a shy schoolboy, and was rather touched by his concern.

"How do you feel?" he asked, anxiously.

"I'm fine now...I think." She replied carefully. She glanced down to where John was still holding her hand. He followed her gaze to where their hands met and immediately retracted, embarrassed.

"Were we filming something when I fainted?" she asked, trying to get her bearings.

He paused. "Filming?" he repeated.

"For The Addams Family?" she clarified and gestured to her dark dress. "Why else would I be in this?"

Author's Note:

Hi guys, to those of you who are somehow still hanging on to this fic. It's been too long. Please let me explain my absence.

I'd been overseas for the past six months on a semester exchange, frolicking over the fields and rolling hills of a small town in England. It was a good six months, I really enjoyed myself. If you ever have the chance to go abroad to study, do it.

I didn't really have time to write much whilst I was away but I tinkered here and there whenever I could for this chapter. I just came back a week ago to finish this up. So yay~

I'll be honest with you, it's getting tough to write this because of how I need to bring Carolyn in and to present her as the actress we have all fallen in love with. I know that there are limits as to how realistically I can portray her/how close to reality I can get, but I want to go as close as I can. So I'm being very careful for now and I hope that whatever I've done in this chapter for her character is still safe/works for now. Eek. Took me ages to come up with this scene.

Also, just a heads up, I will be employing my artistic licence very liberally to John and Carolyn's supposed relationship. Technically, whatever I write could have happened. Just exploiting the benefit of the doubt.

Yes, I've been struggling with my morals and my conscience as to whether I should continue to write this because, I dunno, I'm using these people and their could-have-beens for my story, representing them for the sake of the fic.

I'm also trying to start writing a proper book soon, just beefing up my portfolio and writing stuff that will be more recognized in the working world (because you can't put fanfiction and their reviews in your resume plus fanfiction can't earn you money sad face). My future is basically flashing before my eyes. I'll be juggling a couple of projects so we'll see how it goes.

All the above basically slowed me/will slow me down so my many many apologies. Such is life.

But anyways, on a much happier note (for me at least), thank you for the lovely reviews! Thank you so much for your patience and for just constantly encouraging me. You have no idea how much all your feedback means to me. I do want to be a writer and sometimes your reviews are what keeps me going. Thank you ever so much. :)

[ tedcassidys thanks for your review! To my knowledge, Grandmama was Gomez's mother in the 1964 TV series, which is the version I'm using for this fic. Morticia's mother was Grandmama's schoolmate and was played by Margaret Hamilton aka the green witch from The Wizard of Oz in the Judy Garland movie. She made an appearance in the episodes "Morticia's Romance" in which Morticia and Gomez recount their love story and how they met. But thank you for pointing it out! :) And thank you for reading me!]