Chapter 4: Barbs and Bees
The botany classroom smelled of damp earth and freshly cut plants, its walls lined with shelves of peculiar flora, many of which seemed to move when no one was looking. Mat Cauthon sauntered in behind Wednesday, adjusting his hat and glancing around. He didn't know much about plants—except how to use them to win a bet or patch himself up after a brawl—but he figured this class wouldn't be too bad. Besides, sharing every class with Wednesday meant he wasn't stuck with anyone too intolerable.
The new botany teacher, a tall man with an unkempt beard and glasses that constantly slid down his nose, introduced himself as Professor Cedric Greaves. He seemed frazzled but enthusiastic, gesturing wildly to a strange-looking vine that twitched when he prodded it with a stick.
"Today, we'll be harvesting components from the Thornstrike Ivy," Professor Greaves said, his voice quivering with excitement. "It's an excellent specimen for medicinal and offensive potions alike! But do be careful—the thorns have a paralytic effect if they pierce the skin."
Mat leaned closer to Wednesday as they took their seats at one of the long tables. "Sounds like a plant Perrin would keep in his garden," he murmured.
Wednesday didn't look at him. "I suggest you focus on not accidentally stabbing yourself, lest we have to carry you to the infirmary."
Mat grinned. "Good advice. I'll keep it in mind."
Before he could say more, a voice cut through the room.
"Well, if it isn't Wednesday Addams, gracing us with her uniquely archaic presence," Bianca Barclay drawled, sauntering over with a group of her siren friends in tow. The siren queen's eyes glittered with mischief as she sized up Wednesday, a predatory smile on her face.
"Still clinging to that gloomy aesthetic, I see," Bianca continued. "Honestly, don't you ever get tired of looking like you walked out of a Victorian funeral?"
Mat's relaxed demeanor shifted instantly. He didn't know much about Bianca, but he didn't like the way she carried herself—like a queen ruling over her court, expecting everyone to grovel. And taking a shot at Wednesday? That didn't sit right with him.
"Funny," Mat said, his voice light but laced with an edge, "I thought this was a botany class, not a comedy routine."
Bianca turned her gaze to him, her eyebrows arching as she looked him up and down. "What are you supposed to be? Wednesday's bodyguard?"
"Just someone who appreciates originality," Mat said with an easy grin. "And unlike some people, I know better than to mistake confidence for cruelty."
Bianca's smirk faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly and turned her attention back to Wednesday. "You've really outdone yourself, Wednesday. First you got Xavier following you around like a lost puppy, and now this?" She gestured dismissively at Mat. "What an odd pair you two make."
Mat chuckled, adjusting his hat. "Odd pairs make for interesting stories, love. Besides, better odd than boring."
The classroom erupted in muffled laughter, and even Professor Greaves let out a snort before quickly pretending to be engrossed in his notes.
Bianca's eyes narrowed, her tone sharpening. "Interesting hat, by the way. And the eyepatch? Very pirate chic. Maybe you'd fit in better with my clan."
Mat's grin widened, but there was no humor in his eyes. "Join your little club? Not a chance. I've got enough headaches as it is without adding a siren queen's drama to the mix."
The room buzzed with stifled laughter again, and Bianca's cheeks flushed faintly. She straightened, clearly looking for a way to regain control of the situation. Her gaze flicked back to Wednesday, and her smile turned cutting.
"And Wednesday," Bianca said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "I suppose you're too busy solving mysteries to bother with things like fashion or... I don't know, looking presentable?"
Mat's easygoing demeanor evaporated. Before Wednesday could respond, he stepped in, his tone cold and sharp. "You'd be so lucky to have even a fraction of Wednesday's beauty."
The room fell silent. Bianca's smug expression froze, and for the first time she looked genuinely caught off guard. Her mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came out. Behind her a few students exchanged wide-eyed glances.
The silence was broken by a smattering of applause, hesitant at first then growing louder as the students around them began to cheer. Even Professor Greaves, clearly enjoying the spectacle, gave a half-hearted clap before returning to his lesson.
Bianca glared at Mat, her jaw tight, before turning on her heel and storming off to her station. Her siren friends trailed after her, their whispers barely audible.
Mat turned back to Wednesday, his usual grin back in place. "What? I'm just stating a fact."
Wednesday's expression was unreadable, though he noticed a faint flush creeping up her neck. She stared at him for a long moment before finally responding, her tone as dry as ever. "Your compliments are unnecessary."
"True," Mat said, draping an arm over her shoulder as they walked to their station, "but that doesn't make them any less accurate."
To his surprise, she didn't shrug him off. Instead, she allowed him to guide her to their table, her face impassive but her eyes slightly distant.
The rest of the class proceeded without further incident, though Mat couldn't help but notice how distracted Wednesday seemed. She worked methodically, her gloved hands deftly harvesting the Thornstrike Ivy, but her usual razor-sharp focus seemed dulled.
"Everything alright, Wednesday?" Mat asked as he carefully packed their materials into the provided satchel.
"I'm fine," she replied quickly though her tone suggested otherwise.
Mat didn't push. Instead he leaned closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You know, I wasn't just trying to shut her up. I meant what I said."
Wednesday paused, her gloved fingers resting on the edge of the table. She didn't look at him, but her voice softened ever so slightly. "You're insufferable."
Mat chuckled. "You're welcome."
As the lesson ended and they filed out of the classroom, Mat noticed that Wednesday's usual brisk stride was a little slower than usual. He didn't comment but he stayed close, his arm brushing hers as they walked.
The sun hung low in the sky as Wednesday led Mat along a narrow path that twisted away from the main buildings of Nevermore Academy. The air was cool and carried the faint scent of wildflowers, though Mat suspected it came from the overgrowth that framed the trail rather than anything intentionally planted.
"And where are we off to now, Wednesday?" Mat asked, adjusting his hat against the setting sun. "Another room full of kids ready to sneer at me or are you planning to feed me to some local monster?"
Wednesday's deadpan voice cut through his teasing. "Neither. You're meeting the beekeeping club."
Mat stopped mid-stride, his brow furrowing as he turned to her. "Beekeeping? You're joking."
"I never joke," she replied, her tone as flat as ever.
"Well, bloody ashes," Mat muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "Didn't think I'd go from saving the world to dodging bees."
"They're not ordinary bees," Wednesday added, as though that would explain everything.
Mat gave her a sidelong glance but decided not to press further. He was used to strange explanations by now.
When they reached a clearing, Mat saw a small wooden shed surrounded by rows of colorful hives. Standing next to one of them, outfitted in an oversized beekeeping suit, was a boy with glasses and a mop of messy hair. He waved enthusiastically when he saw Wednesday and hurried over, nearly tripping over a loose stone in the path.
"Wednesday!" the boy exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. "You actually came. And—" He glanced at Mat with curious eyes. "You brought someone?"
"Eugene, this is Mat Cauthon," Wednesday said, gesturing toward Mat. "He's strange, much like yourself."
Mat chuckled, tipping his hat to Eugene. "Strange, huh? I've been called worse. Nice to meet you, Eugene."
Eugene beamed, his enthusiasm contagious. "Nice to meet you too! Are you into beekeeping?"
"Can't say I've ever tried it," Mat replied. "But I've dodged worse than a bee sting, so I figure I'll survive."
Eugene laughed. "That's the spirit! These aren't just any bees, though. They're super smart. I've trained them to recognize faces and they're really good at defending the hives if anyone messes with them."
"Trained bees?" Mat asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now that's something you don't see every day."
"Eugene has a... unique way with creatures," Wednesday said, folding her arms. "Though I'd argue his enthusiasm borders on reckless."
Eugene didn't seem to mind the critique. Instead, he launched into a detailed explanation of how he cared for the bees, their habits, and the special honey they produced. Mat listened intently, nodding along and occasionally asking questions.
"You remind me of someone," Mat said after a while, leaning against the shed. "Kid back in my world—Olver. Always full of questions, always looking for the next adventure. Smart as a whip, too."
Eugene's eyes lit up. "Really? That's so cool! What's he like?"
"Oh, he's a handful," Mat said with a grin. "But he's got a good heart. Sticks with you even when the going gets tough."
Wednesday observed the exchange quietly, her dark eyes flicking between Mat and Eugene. It wasn't often she saw Eugene connect with someone so quickly, and it surprised her how easily Mat seemed to slip into the role of a mentor-like figure.
Eugene gestured toward one of the hives. "Want to see how it works? I can show you the smoker and how to handle the frames."
"Sure," Mat said, straightening up. "But if I get stung, I'm blaming you."
Eugene laughed as he led Mat over to the hive, explaining each step with the kind of detail only someone truly passionate could manage. Mat followed along, asking questions and cracking jokes that had Eugene laughing so hard he nearly dropped the smoker.
Wednesday stood back, her expression neutral but her mind turning. Mat had a way of disarming people—not with his usual sarcasm or bravado, but with a genuine charm that she hadn't fully appreciated until now. Watching Eugene, normally cautious around strangers, light up under Mat's attention was... unexpected.
After an hour of tending to the bees and tasting a sample of their honey, Mat leaned against the shed again, wiping his hands on his coat. "I'll give it to you, Eugene—you know your stuff. And that honey's something else. Might even be worth the risk of a sting or two."
Eugene grinned. "Thanks! You should come by more often. The bees could always use another friend."
Mat laughed. "I'll think about it, but no promises. Can't have the bees getting too attached to me."
Eugene nodded, clearly satisfied. "Fair enough. Thanks for stopping by. It's cool to meet someone new who's not afraid of the hives."
As they started back down the path, Mat glanced at Wednesday. "So, that's your beekeeping club? Just Eugene?"
"It's sufficient," she replied simply.
Mat chuckled. "Well, I like him. Reminds me of better days."
Wednesday looked at him, her expression unreadable. "I'm surprised you got along so easily. Eugene doesn't usually warm to people that quickly."
Mat shrugged. "What can I say? Kids like me. Maybe it's because I don't talk down to them. I miss being a carefree kid running around playing pranks."
"Perhaps," Wednesday said, her tone thoughtful.
They walked in silence for a while, the fading light casting long shadows over the path. Mat's easy camaraderie with Eugene lingered in her mind, a small but intriguing piece of the puzzle that was Mat Cauthon.
"Thanks for bringing me, by the way," Mat said after a moment. "Didn't think I'd be swapping stories with a kid and a bunch of bees, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it."
Wednesday didn't respond immediately. When she did, her voice was quieter than usual. "You surprise me, Mat. That's not an easy thing to do."
Mat grinned. "Stick around, Wednesday. I've got plenty more surprises up my sleeve."