Sorry, I realize that I accidentally used Harry as the name of Happy's son, but there is no relation to Captain Hook's son.

"Mal - "

"Didn't I mention that we don't have to talk every day?" Mal snapped.

She didn't know with whom she was angrier, herself or Ben. Mal was noticing a pattern in their interactions - he tended to leave her speechless and filled with an unfamiliar bubbly feeling that was not acceptable. Just seeing him gave her palpitations, like she was being startled every time he was in the room. Was it his fault, or hers? Blaming him was easier, after all, despising him was almost second nature by now.

"You did," he admitted cautiously, aware of the glare she was giving him, "But I actually have a reason."

"What?"

"I need you to come to dinner with me today. There's this place called - "

This was it. She'd had the faintest inkling that they might have been flirting and now he was asking her out and the worst part was that she hesitated for a very long second before blowing up.

"Why on Earth would I ever go to dinner with you?" she spat venomously. "I'm. Not. Interested. And I never will be. Not that I give one single crap about your airhead of a girlfriend, but I thought you might. Turns out you're just as - "

"Mal," Ben interrupted gently, eyebrows raised. "Not as a date. We're meeting someone to discuss moving kids off the Isle."

Her stupidity hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes widened and a flush rose to her cheeks. It only got worse when Ben failed miserably at hiding his amusement. "Oh." She cleared her throat and shuffled items around in her locker to avoid looking at him. "Who?"

"A child psychologist. One of the best in Auradon."

That took care of her embarrassment. "You're taking me to see a doctor for crazy people?"

"Not for a personal appointment, Mal. If you don't mind me saying, jumping to conclusions isn't really working out for you."

And it was back. "Fine." Anything to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

She had the rest of the day to get over herself, and her confidence was back by the time she met Ben at his limo after class. He gave her a lopsided smile when she rushed to open her own door before someone could do it for her.

He clicked his seat belt in and turned to her. "So...not a fan of Audrey?" That irritating smile was driving her insane. How dare he tease her about that morning? Or at all? Mal's eyes flashed green, but then she realized she didn't need magic for this one.

"She and Chad were the ones who left that note for Lonnie." She leaned back in her seat as the car began to accelerate, watching with satisfaction as the smirk on his face disappeared. "I saw them drop it on our table."

He was all seriousness now, turning to stare gloomily out the window. "I knew she didn't like this idea, but I had no idea she wanted it to fail." It almost seemed as if Ben was talking to himself. He'd never mentioned Audrey in front of her before.

"But it was your idea. Aren't you heroes supposed to support the people you love?" Mal pressed. She wasn't quite done exacting revenge yet.

Ben was still watching the scenery zoom by. "Mm-hmm."

She was going to follow that up with "So maybe she doesn't love you" but something stopped her. Revenge was one thing, but cruelty was another...and it was much harder than it used to be for her to be cruel. Besides, Ben didn't seem sad so much as pensive.

"There are going to be people like Audrey and Chad everywhere," he said finally. "Maybe we can ask Dr. Rickett about that too."

Mal didn't know who this doctor was, but she doubted he or she could mend the centuries-old rift between good and evil just because Ben asked. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that. Hearing about Audrey and Chad had dampened his seemingly un-dampen-able spirits, and it set her chest to throbbing again. Anything less than an optimistic, confident Ben seemed...wrong. And of course, just to make the whole situation more intolerable, Mal caught herself wondering if Audrey's betrayal or the threat to his plan was hurting him more.

He'd collected himself by the time they reached Tiana's Palace, and greeted the maitre'd with his usual charm. "Table for three, please."

"Of course, Prince Ben." The tuxedo'd man led them to a circular table and left three menus. He pulled the chair out for Mal. That was my fault. I should've known that was coming. She sat down and made a point of scooting it in herself. That brought a smile back to Ben's face. He thanked the man and looked over the menu.

"Anything look interesting?"

Mal's eyes traveled over the Cajun-themed fare, unfamiliar words assailing her at every turn. "I don't know what any of this is."

"Hello, all." A balding, red-haired man wearing thick glasses pulled out a chair for himself. "How are you, Prince Ben?"

"Dr. Rickett," greeted Ben warmly. "Good to see you. This is Mal. Mal, this is Dr. Jiminy Rickett."

The name sounded very familiar. Mal asked, "Didn't my mother turn you into a bug once?"

The doctor calmly adjusted his glasses. "A cricket, yes. I believe she thought it poetic. Luckily that particular spell was lifted some time ago, though I've retained a habit of rubbing my hands together. How is Maleficent doing?"

"Still evil."

"I see." He squinted at her. "And you?"

Mal glared at Ben. "I thought you said this wasn't a personal appointment."

"It's not!" Ben held up his hands and threw an imploring glance at Dr. Rickett. "It's not. We're here to talk about all the Isle children. Why don't we order and take it from there?"

Ben helped Mal pick an entree that wouldn't be too foreign for her as of yet inexperienced taste buds. While they were waiting for the dishes to come out, Ben explained the situation to Dr. Rickett.

The psychologist steepled his fingers and frowned. "I would normally never advocate relocating children whose parents are able to take care of them. However, like most of the citizens of Auradon, I'm unaware of the conditions in which these children live. Would you care to enlighten me, Mal?"

Mal shrugged. "The kids on the island aren't like the kids here. They're always crying. They don't clean themselves up often, and they beg for food all the time. Most of them die pretty early, the rest of them we avoid unless we're - Ben?"

The prince's water glass had shattered. Ben's fist remained clenched around where the stem had been. All three of them were surprised, no one more so than Ben. His jaw hung open. "I..." He exchanged a look with Dr. Rickett. A waitress came over, apologizing for what she assumed was a cracked glass, and swept up the fragments. "I just...Jay said something about...but I didn't...there's not enough food on the island? Kids have to beg?"

Mal had to physically unfold each one of his fingers to make sure he hadn't cut himself when he strangled the glass. He looked pale enough to give the impression that he was bleeding out. Out of the corner of her eye, Mal saw Dr. Rickett's gaze drop to Ben's hand in hers, and she let go.

"Mal," said Dr. Rickett gently. "Would you give me a moment alone with Ben?" She looked between the two of them - one calm and professional, the other shell-shocked - and got up.

"The bastard!" Ben sputtered suddenly.

"Thank you, Mal." She recognized that as a dismissal, and walked towards the bathroom. She heard Dr. Rickett begin murmuring things to Ben, but this far away the words were too fuzzy to make out.

The bathroom only had a couple of other patrons in it. Mal ignored them and pretended to fix her hair in the mirror. She hadn't dressed up, mostly because she had so far neglected to buy anything nice, and she stood out like a sore thumb in this rather upscale establishment. Her purple hair wasn't helping. Every new customer that walked into the bathroom stared at her for at least a couple seconds before they remembered what they were there to do.

She thought back to Ben's reaction. Granted, Mal had yet to see many children in Auradon, let alone any beggars, but surely there were places here where people went hungry? There would probably be enough food on the island, if people shared and rationed appropriately - but obviously that wasn't going to happen. Even if Ben sent more food there, the weakest inhabitants would never get enough.

After a few minutes, Mal got fed up and left the bathroom. She caught Dr. Rickett's eye from far away and he gestured to her, assuring her it was safe to return. When she sat back down, she noticed Ben looking ashamed. However, their food had arrived and the smell reminded her that she was actually quite hungry.

"What is this called again?" she asked with a mouthful of vegetables.

"Gumbo," Ben replied glumly.

"It's good." Was she really trying to make him feel better? At any rate, it looked like it worked for a moment - then Dejected Ben was back.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Mal. Now, to continue our earlier conversation, it appears that children hardly survive, let alone thrive, on the Isle of the Lost. Is that accurate?"

"I guess." She was starting to kind of worry about Ben. He didn't look like he was even going to attempt to participate. This guy needs to stop talking. Ben can't handle this.

"In that kind of environment, I'd say the chances of healthy psychological development are low."

Ben's fists clenched again, and he looked away. Before she realized what she was doing, Mal stood up and furiously snarled, "What did you do to him?"

All of the diners in their general vicinity fell silent, some forgetting to chew the food in their mouths. Mal's eyes had begun to glow green, and she tried to remember what the cricket spell was. Then, she felt Ben's hand on her arm. Turning to him, she calmed when she noticed he appeared a little less pale.

"Mal, sit down. He didn't do anything." He tugged at her arm, but her eyes still narrowed at a fearful Dr. Rickett. "Dr. Rickett used to be my psychologist when I was a kid."

She hadn't been expecting that. Her earlier comment swam through her mind: You're taking me to see a doctor for crazy people? He hadn't even reacted to that. Mal quietly sat down, as Ben requested. After that, the babble of voices in the restaurant rose to its previous pitch.

Knowing she was waiting for an explanation, Ben continued, "I used to be angry a lot. I mean, my dad was a beast for a long time and there was always a good chance some of his...idiosyncrasies were going to be passed down. Dr. Rickett helped a lot, back in the day. But lately it's been worse."

"Because of us," inferred Mal.

"No!" Ben reached for her hand, but thought better of it. "Because of what was done to you. Because of what my father did to you."

"Ben..." warned Dr. Rickett.

Impatient, Ben added, "I'm not supposed to feel guilty for the actions of another, I know. I know." He sighed at Mal. "Things are really bad between us right now. I haven't talked to him since we fought last week because every time I talk to you I...I just get angrier with him. And with myself, for not doing more."

"You're the only one doing anything," Mal pointed out. Although technically, so am I. And my plan's more likely to work.

Dr. Rickett smiled. "That's true, Ben." When Ben said nothing, he turned to Mal. "You don't appear to hold any animosity towards Ben."

"About this," she corrected. The corner of Ben's mouth quirked up.

"Fair enough. But Ben, if we're to find a solution, you can't continue to take everything personally. It will not help you reach your goal. It will not help any of the children on that island."

"I understand."

"I'm going to keep asking Mal questions now. Is that alright?" Ben nodded. "Very well. Mal, as I may have implied before, the physical health of a child is directly related to his or her psychological development. Obviously, the emotional health of a child contributes as well. I'd like to ask about your background, but much of this information I assume you'd like to remain confidential. If at any point you do not want to answer, please don't."

He went on to inquire about Mal's childhood specifically - the kinds of games she'd played (none), what her diet had consisted of (stale bread, mostly, sometimes cheese and overripe vegetables), how many friends she'd had (none), whether she'd gotten much exercise (plenty, if you counted running away from older gang members), what her education had been like (she'd heard the losers' side of history, read countless magical spells, practiced pseudo-martial arts, and had the mathematical knowledge of Auradonian students three years her junior). Ben tried to keep a straight face through all of this, but Mal could tell it was difficult for him.

"Did you feel loved by your parents?"

What a stupid question. "I never needed love."

Ben seemed alarmed by this. "Mal - "

"What?" she said bluntly. "The Isle is about survival. You don't need love for survival."

"But everyone needs - "

"Ben," said Dr. Rickett, patient as ever. "I would like Mal to be able to answer without us injecting our own feelings into her narrative." The prince pursed his lips, but quieted down. "Who took care of you when you were a baby?"

"Like who fed me and changed my diapers? Probably Grimhelde, or Lady Tremaine, or whoever my mother told to do it."

"How much time did you spend with your mother?"

"She had me read her spell books and watch while she took care of business around the island."

"What kind of business?"

"Well, she reigns there. Mostly by killing people who defy her."

"So you watched her do this from a young age?"

"Yes." Ben winced, but refrained from 'injecting his feelings'.

"And the others who came with you, were they treated about the same?"

"No." Mal worded her response carefully. "Jay gets along with his father. Jafar wants him to take over the shop eventually. Evie's mother spent a lot of time with her, teaching her how to get a royal husband." Mal rolled her eyes. "And Carlos..."

Dr. Rickett noticed her pause. "What about Carlos?"

She usually avoided talking about Carlos. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. But she'd known him long enough to know that he wasn't like the rest of them. He was...broken, somehow. "I'm done talking."

The psychologist accepted that. "Thank you for all the information you've shared, Mal. At first blush it does seem as if there would be minimal trauma involved in bringing the Isle children here, but I'll need to think. I'd like some time to compile notes and make my recommendations to you both. If possible, I'd like to reach out to the other Isle children at Auradon Prep in the near future."

"To us both?" Mal looked at Ben.

"I want you to be a part of this, Mal. I think we have a better chance of success if we work together." She didn't realize this was going to become a regular part of her schedule. Mal was busy enough as it was, practicing every day to hopefully strengthen her powers enough to teleport the wand out of the vault. In addition to school, of course. Her interest in history had turned into a little bit of a talent. Plus, with Ben's offhand encouragement, she couldn't help but continue sketching. She'd walked by the administrative offices so many times on an impulse to sign up for the art classes, the staff had stopped whispering when they saw her and started waving instead. And now she'd been roped in to helping Prince Rose-Colored Lenses revise a twenty year old law that most of the population did not want changed. Fantastic.

For the remainder of dinner, they talked about the resistance they'd encountered and strategies to counter it. Eventually, Ben excused himself to the restroom. Mal pounced on the opportunity to interrogate Dr. Rickett. "What did Ben get angry about as a kid?" That admission had really surprised her. Ben had always seemed so put together, the perfect hero, but today she'd seen a flaw that made him human. She could sense that ache in her chest again, the one that only Ben caused.

"I'm afraid only Ben can tell you that. By law anything we discussed during his appointments is protected information." He sawed a piece off his rapidly disappearing chicken and popped it in his mouth. "I do love coming here. The food is very unique."

Mal switched to her other question. "Did you know who I was, when you saw me here?"

"Ben informed me of your parentage before our meeting, so yes."

"But you weren't afraid of me?"

Dr. Rickett considered her question. "I tend to agree with Ben that the sins of parents should not be attributed to their children. I have no conflict with you. To be completely honest, I have no conflict with your mother, either. I've long since forgiven her."

"You forgave her," Mal repeated, disbelief coloring her tone. "For turning you into a cricket. Weren't you stuck that way for years?"

"Yes on both counts. But if not for that curse, I never would have found my calling in psychology. I also made several lifelong friends during that time." He beamed at her. "Life has an interesting way of turning out. If you hold on to anger and resentment, as I believe your mother was wont to do, you cannot enjoy life at all. Ben's fury at his father, for example, is straining their relationship. I'm sure you have a few examples of your own in which anger caused tension between you and another. In my experience, it is almost never worth it. Anger towards friends ruins friendships. Anger towards enemies blackens the heart. I choose to be content with my lot, so I forgive and forget."

It was the most absurd thing Mal had ever heard. "If you don't get angry, nothing will ever happen to the people who wronged you."

"And that's alright. Revenge never brings happiness, it only encourages more revenge. Have you ever heard the phrase 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'?"

"No."

"Well, essentially revenge has a way of making everyone feel like they're the victim, and so everyone seeks vengeance. In the end, both sides are left with nothing. Perhaps they have the satisfaction of knowing they've hurt their enemy, but that is short lived."

"So I'm just supposed to forgive every person who makes me angry."

"If you feel it's the right thing to do, yes."

"How do I know if it's the right thing to do?"

He winked. "Let your conscience be your guide."

Evie had used some of the money Mal conjured up to buy herself a sewing machine. It beat sneaking into the Home Ec room to practice her craft of fashion design. She'd taken a break from chemistry to create a mini-pencil skirt out of bright red fabric she'd ordered online. Having wifi (and an endless supply of cash) was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

She heard Mal's key in the lock, and then the purple haired girl stepped into the room. Evie said nothing - they still weren't talking. Or so she thought.

Evie looked up when Mal gently placed the magic mirror in front of her. "You can use it for whatever you want," she said. "It's about time I realized Fairy Godmother's not going to move this thing."

She's giving it back? Evie didn't understand. "But..."

"You need it for class, right?"

"I mean, it would be nice, but I thought..."

"Then take it."

Mal wasn't challenging or taunting her. She was sincere. "I thought you were mad at me."

"I was...but you're the only person I really talk to. Someone told me today that staying mad sometimes isn't worth it." This was the closest she had ever seen Mal come to saying sorry. Honored, she smiled at her, and could've sworn the corners of Mal's mouth turned up an almost imperceptible amount - at any rate, she didn't look as cold as usual.

"Thanks for this. I've been wanting to see what my mom's been doing." The mirror still held the image of the floating wand. Evie picked it up and said, "Mirror, mirror in my hand / Show me my mother on the island."

The wand dissolved and was replaced by a woman at the Isle market. She was looking at various scarves and turning up her nose at each one. Mal came and stood by Evie, observing. They couldn't hear anything that was going on, but their memory filled in the calls of the hawkers, the arguing and bargaining, the yells as thieves were caught red-handed. They were both familiar with this scene and Grimhelde was not doing anything interesting.

"Can you check in on my mom?"

Evie did as she asked. Maleficent stood in their home with a short, fat man Evie recognized as Mr. Smee. The pirate was on his knees, begging for something. That something turned out to be his life. A dagger glinted in her hand just a split second before she sliced his neck with it. Blood spilled from the wound. Mr. Smee fell backwards and the blood pooled around his head.

"Same old Maleficent," Evie remarked, impressively keeping her voice from shaking. She had no doubt that would be their fate if they failed to obtain the wand.

"Yeah." Mal clearly had the same thought. "We'll have to hit the coronation. We need a foolproof plan. When is it, exactly?"

"Doug says it was supposed to be on Ben's seventeenth birthday, but since that's during midterms, Ben pushed it to the week after. Friday, I think."

"Okay. So Friday after midterms gives us...four more weeks?"

"About."

"And where is it?"

"No idea."

"Okay," said Mal decisively. "First thing, we need to find out the venue and then get a floor plan. We need to know where we're supposed to be sitting, and where the wand will be. Then we need to get a program so we can figure out timing. If there's a video of King Adam's coronation, we should get our hands on it so we know what to expect."

"There should be one in the library," Evie said. "Historical records. I can find it the next time I go."

Mal nodded. "And we'll need to know the security situation, especially if there will be magical protection. They won't give that information out to just anyone. We'll need to manipulate either Ben, his parents, or Fairy Godmother to tell us. I'm not even sure who the head of security will be."

"I've kept in touch with Jane. She's coming to see me every so often to learn how to do her own makeup."

Mal seemed pleasantly surprised, and Evie swelled with pride. Finally, she could prove to Mal she was an asset. "Ask her, if you can. She might've heard something." She walked over to her bed and sat down. "I think that's a good place to start."

She hadn't pulled out anything to do; Mal was just staring at her hands. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?" Evie inquired.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to figure out how to say it." Evie waited patiently. "So...Ben wants to bring over all the kids from the isle. He's been calling me his 'Isle consultant' and he took me to an orphanage, that day that I was out with him, to see where we would put them. Earlier today we met up with this shrink, who's going to tell us whether or not we're going to traumatize them by taking them away from their parents on the Isle."

Evie's eyes widened. "What?" she spluttered. "How - Why?"

Mal explained everything over the next few minutes. Evie couldn't believe so much had happened just in the last week. "Is he serious?"

"Seems like it."

For the first time, Evie wondered what her life would be like if Auradon remained the same, if they didn't help the villains take over. She'd learned so much over the past two weeks, more than she or anyone else would have thought was possible. She'd met someone absolutely perfect for her, though he wouldn't have a choice but to stay with her once the Evil Queen held the rest of his family hostage. Having an organic relationship would have been nice, but it didn't matter. And knowledge wouldn't be necessary in the new era.

"I'm going to keep playing along," Mal finished. "If I pull out now, he might get suspicious."

"Plus, if it seems like you're planning for a future in Auradon, he won't suspect you're still loyal to the Isle," Evie pointed out. "That's definitely for the best."

Eventually, Mal left to practice some potentially dangerous spells a safe distance from any other humans. Evie waited for five minutes after Mal was gone, just to make sure she wasn't coming back for any reason. Then she picked up her mirror again. "Mirror, mirror in my hand / Show me the fairest boy in the land."

The son of Cinderella was in his room, playing cards with one of the younger sons of Rapunzel. Evie's eyes narrowed; so much for being 'busy'. It didn't make any sense - he was obviously in love with her, and she was too beautiful for him to be blowing her off. Why wouldn't he spend time with her?

"Hey, man," Doug greeted Carlos. "Come on in."

Carlos stepped into the room and nodded at Harry, who was selecting a game on their system. "I didn't know you guys were roommates."

"Yeah, well, why would I advertise that I'm stuck with my doofus of a cousin?" Harry said goodnaturedly, holding out a controller to Carlos. "You wanna play, Dougie?"

"Don't call me that," Doug complained. "And no. I have some reading to catch up on."

"Nerd," Harry muttered. "You see what I have to deal with?"

Despite Carlos's generally bad mood over the past few days, Harry had him smiling in minutes. I should've come sooner, he realized. But he couldn't have. Waking up the day after the game with a lot of self-inflicted injuries, he hadn't wanted to see anyone except Evie and her concealer. It worked well enough for class, where no one cared, but if anyone looked close enough they would have known he was covering a large contusion on his forehead. By the weekend, though, it had faded. He'd felt safe enough to make good on his promise to Harry.

They virtually bashed each other's heads in for about an hour. Doug started out shushing them every time they yelled, but eventually gave up reading and watched the ongoing fight. "This is so violent," he observed. "It can't be good for you."

"This? This isn't violent," said Carlos. "There isn't even any blood. You can't even die, you just get knocked out."

"Don't even try, Carlos," Harry interjected dramatically. "He's a lost cause."

The boys paused the game to grab some water. Harry dished an embarrassing story involving baby Doug and a terrifying rubber duck. Judging by Doug's groan, this was not the first, or even the tenth, time that he'd heard it, but Carlos found it hilarious.

"Evie's gonna find that sooo attractive, dude," Carlos assured him sarcastically.

"Are you still chasing that girl? She's way out of your league, man," said Harry.

Doug shrugged, but no one missed his blush. "I'm not chasing, I'm just friends with her."

"Sure. Bro, you've got about as much a chance as ending up with her as I do." For Carlos's benefit, Harry explained, "And I'm not into girls."

Carlos's expression froze. He didn't know how to react to that. No one just admitted it, out loud, in front of someone they barely knew. "What?" he asked, his throat dry.

"Yep. Funny how Happy's son turned out to be gay," remarked Doug dryly, "Seeing as those words are technically synonyms."

"Keep trying, Dougie. No one's ever going to laugh at that joke."

They were both so casual about it. Carlos had seen what was done to gay men on the island. He knew how it worked. But Harry was clearly some superlative form of dumbass, because here he was, laying it out for all to see. Part of Carlos wanted to give in to the Isle culture, to bite Harry's head off about how abnormal and disgusting he was.

The other part of Carlos wanted to admit his secret.

"I'm not," he said suddenly. Doug and Harry looked at him in confusion. "I'm not...gay, I mean. I'm into girls. Like, um...I think Evie's hot. And Audrey." They were objectively pretty, he reasoned. But Doug and Harry were giving him strange looks.

"No one said you had to be, bro," Harry replied, slowly.

He knows I'm lying. Carlos panicked. They both know I'm lying. How do they know? How?

"You know what, I actually have to go." Doug moved aside as Carlos barreled towards the door. "This was fun. See ya."

He ran all the way back to his dorm, admittedly not very far away, and slammed the door behind him. Only then did he lean on it and catch his breath. His heart was still pounding.

"I trust you all had a 'good' weekend," Fairy Godmother joked, winking obnoxiously. Jay fought back a groan. He wondered how long she'd spent planning that pun.

Mal and Evie exchanged exasperated looks. At least they were on good terms again. Jay had taken to sitting behind them, away from Carlos on the other side of the classroom. The younger boy had brought Dude along, and the dog was sitting in Jay's former seat. Nice to know I've been replaced by a mutt.

"Our topic today is happiness." She looked over their confused expressions. "Surprised? You shouldn't be. The heroes are still human, and they need an incentive to act the way they do. Happiness is the reason good people choose to be good. Unless...can you describe to me a time when you felt truly happy?"

"Kinda hard to be happy when we're stuck on that trash heap," Jay pointed out. The answer was no, for all of them, and he knew it. His and Carlos's relationship was the closest any of them had ever come to being happy, and he'd thrown that away to keep them alive.

"Very true." Fairy Godmother sounded a little uncomfortable. "But all evil has a price. Those that give in to evil can never truly feel the happiness that rewards all those who are good. Whether it is because they are imprisoned, or because their greed prevents contentedness, or because there is no love in their life, the evil cannot be happy. We see this time and time again in history."

She furnished several examples from stories Jay knew the other side of, but was careful not to use any that the kids were too close to. Lady Tremaine craved the throne and ended up poorer than dirt. Gothel wanted to live forever and died before her time. Captain Hook fell prey to his own vengeful plot. Ursula never got Ariel's soul. The list went on and on.

Fairy Godmother's conclusion could not have been more obvious. Evil doesn't win.

Except it might, in one final, destructive war that we're going to bring to Auradon's doorstep.

Then what? Would the revenge of their parents give him any satisfaction? They would go back to their old lives. Jay would have to pretend again, and he'd never get Carlos back. He'd lose the team he'd grown to value. The friends he'd made would all be killed. Hell, he might even be killed in the ensuing battle. Was it worth it? Why were they doing this?

Because your dad is stuck there. And because if you don't, and they ever get out on their own, they'll kill you.

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