Another short little snippet, this one for a guest who wanted for Mal to have ended up in the clinic because she was protecting Carlos and then it kind of ran away. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Don't be afraid to leave your ideas and if you've left one and I haven't written anything yet, fear not. I promise I'm getting to it.


The one time Mal ended up in the clinic for any sort of physical infliction was when she bruised her knuckles breaking someone's nose.

She hadn't wanted to go, of course, not for something that seemed so petty but Carlos had refused unless she agreed to get checked out also. Since he was the one with the split lip and black eye, she had no choice but to comply- grumbling the entire time of conniving little pests.

It seemed to have made Carlos happier, at least, as he sat beside her slumped form and chattered like they were childhood friends. They weren't, she couldn't stand the insufferable kid when they had been younger, but now she endured it all with furrowed brows and a tight scowl.

"Carlos De Vil," what served as the doctor, a tall skinny man dressed in dark purples, called silencing the boy and sending his head whipping in the general direction.

He rose slowly, moving past her and to some room she wasn't able to sit from her current spot. She instantly pushed those thoughts away, and when her leg started bouncing it was just a coincidence that Carlos had also disappeared.

Not even five minutes later, he came back out. His face was slumped down slightly, like he had been chastised for getting beat up. Knowing the isle, he probably had.

"You're up," he grumbled a little less enthusiastic then he had before, dropping down in the seat next to her.

She blinked before rising and going back. He hadn't even glanced at her knuckles before he declared her fine- which she was, really- and dismissed them both with a slight grumble and shake of the head. She left his office without another word, slipping quietly from the room like she was prone to doing.

Carlos was still where she left him, slumped with his arms crossed over his thin chest and it was the first time she realized he looked beyond unhappy. It made her chest hurt in ways she didn't know it was capable of, as her blood called out for retribution. She was just clueless of why.

"I hate this place," he told her when she stopped in front of him, making no move to get up from his seat.

She just huffed, crossing her arms and cocking her hip to the side. She raised her eyebrow as if demanding an explanation from him.

Carlos didn't offer any.

He just rose from his seat before grumbling under his breathe, "Let's get out of here."

She followed him out of the clinic, not saying a word even when he took her away from the town and didn't stop until they were the closest they could make it to the closest thing that resembled a shore on the isle. Even then, it was being generous.

Waves crashed into the rocky surface several feet under their feet and whenever she looked out to the mainland across the water, the image was disoriented and blurry. A reminder that they were all prisoners under a dome, out casted and unloved.

"You come here often?" she had to ask because he seemed more comfortable then he had been in the clinic, shoulders slumped as he continued staring off towards the mainland with a neutral expression.

His lip was swollen and red and his left eyes had already started to blacken around the edges, making his thoughtful expression seem more drawn. Older even, which was crazy.

"Enough times," he finally whispered bending over to pick up a loose pebble and hurled it towards the ocean only for it to bounce harmlessly off the dome, bouncing back against the rocky cliff and landing somewhere at the bottom, "Mostly whenever my mother is in one of her moods."

Mal swallowed, knowing that Cruella always seemed like a horrible parent but had always figured that they were all like that. Not one on the isle could ever come close to being anything close to loving or compassionate- out only for themselves and whatever strives they held before their punishment.

Something about the way he worded it, the way it came out, had her wondering just how bad it was. After all, the only reason he had ever gotten punched in the first place was because some idiot compared him to his mother, declaring that he was going to grow up just like her. Crazy and alone.

Mal didn't even know Carlos was capable of snapping the way he had.

Unfortunately for the youth, he was physically smaller than all his other classmates and had been subdued easily. She supposed it was also fortunate for his attacker that she hadn't been Jay because though she could make her hits hurt, Jay wouldn't have known when to stop. Not until the idiot was a near comatose mess on the floor.

"Carlos-" Mal started but he interrupted her, bowing his head and clenching his hands tightly to his sides as if to contain his emotion.

"Save it," he growled lowly, voice fierce, "I know that she's a villain and I know it's what villains do and I should just accept that. I just look at her and think to myself that I can't be like that. I can never be like her."

Mal supposed that made sense though she was the one who's only purpose in life seemed to please her mother- to be good enough for her mom to finally accept her.

"Then don't," Mal decided as she focused back on the mainland several miles away, "Be your own villain because one day we're getting off this rock and when we do we'll finally have our revenge."

"You mean our parents' revenge?" Carlos clarified, meeting her stare unyieldingly and she had to blink at his words.

She's never thought of it before, taking in her mom's visions of vengeance as her own. That didn't mean she didn't strive of getting off the isle and making those who put her there suffer.

So she shrugged and replied simply enough, "Whatever you cause it, the day is nearing. I can feel it."

To that, Carlos said nothing.