Collaboration with Xez2003

Belle stopped waking up. The books went back to the library and Mal stopped leaving. She watched Belle's breaths grow short and shallow as she drifted further and further away. The time was drawing close, and Belle was hardly fighting anymore. Mal didn't dare say a word, but privately felt that Adam's betrayal had broken her heart and tired her out to the end. Weeks off her life.

Mal saw Ben less and less. In his fury at his father, he'd thrown himself into work, rarely resurfacing for breath. Things changed - they had orphans in the palace that were in the process of being relocated and food and blankets were going out to aid people on the streets and giant bonfires lit in the courtyards to warm people drifting around during the bitter nights. At first, Mal was concerned. A conspiracy in the courts, assassins could be anywhere, and Ben was letting people come in whenever? But Jay informed her that the people who were taking advantage of this were grateful for the help and, as a result, fiercely defensive of the king. Some were even magical.

Instead of Ben, Carlos came by, often trying to escape Audrey or lessons. At first, Mal tried to send him back to his tutor, but would allow Audrey escapes. But after meeting the tutor… she began to let it slide. They were a stern old man, so old that he had to be watched going down stairs, who taught from a dusty bible and stained manuscripts about magical insurrections and various revolts of the lower class against the upper class. Math, English, and French were taught as needed.

Carlos and Ben got along famously. It was shocking, honestly. Carlos learned to evade Adam and Audrey while en route between Ben and Mal and was sort of the go-between for them while they weren't talking face-to-face.

"Ben asked if you needed anything."

"I don't. Ask him if he's eating okay."

"He thought you might ask and said he's fine."

Of course, this talk served to enlighten Carlos to the same thing Evie and Jay had suspected.

"Do you want to marry my brother?"

"No, I don't."

"Jay said you do."

"Jay says lots of things, few of them true."

"It kinda seems like you do."

"Well, I don't."

It was all pointless talk, Mal thought. Belle was almost gone. Maybe Mal would be here another month, maybe only another night. It was all a waiting game.

Half past ten on Sunday evening, Mal was reaching to blow out the midnight candle when the doorknob turned. She didn't have to look up - she knew those sneaky steps. Sure enough, Carlos peeked through the door crack. The blonde streak in his hair looked like someone was holding a finger above his head. "Miss Mal?" he whispered.

Mal sighed. "Carlos, shouldn't you be in bed?"

Carlos pushed the door open, slipped in with the breeze, and shut it while Mal shivered. "I was asleep, but I heard a sound and woke up."

"Why didn't you ask Audrey?"

"She told me to go back to bed."

Mal sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her eyes. "What kind of a sound?" she asked. "A scratch or a whistle or-"

"A thud," Carlos said. "A footstep right above my head in the ceiling. They were wearing rubber boots. I know the sound."

"It could have just been a servant," Mal said. "Maybe someone was washing floors."

Carlos stared at her. "My room's on the top floor," he said. "The roof is above my head."

Mal got back to her feet. She opened the door into the hall and looked left and right. "Our guards are gone," she realized. She turned towards Carlos. "Your room's in the left wing, isn't it? Did you see any guards down here?"

Carlos thought about it, then shrugged. "Only the one by Ben's and the former king." He crossed his arms. "None outside of ours."

Mal turned and glared suspiciously outside. "That's not right," she whispered. "Ben specifically set them here… I'm going to go find a pair. You stay here and get some rest. I'll figure out where everyone is."

"Do you think Ben's in trouble?"

"I don't know. You said there were guards outside his room, right?"

"Yes, but he hasn't been sleeping there."

That information made Mal pause. She turned and raised an eyebrow at Carlos. "What do you mean?"

"I heard the king talking to Ben about it. Ben started switching rooms after the ball happened. He just thought it'd be best. On the night the assassins broke in, they went to his room and found it empty. No one knows where he goes."

"Who else knows that?"

"Audrey," Carlos said immediately. "Maybe the guards too. He didn't tell me much."

Mal looked back out to the corridor. "He's probably safe then. We're all probably safe. But I'll still go get guards and ask them to stand watch. Better safe than sorry." She nodded to her bed. "Try to get some rest."

Carlos climbed in and pulled the blankets up to his chin without lying down. "I'll wait," he said. "Be fast." Mal nodded and shut the door behind her.

Out in the courtyard, the fires were blazing away. Thirty or forty people crowded near the flames with tiny lean-to's and palace-provided blankets easing the concrete. Their presence was comforting. Someone liked the king. Someone would protect him.

Mal began hurrying up the steps of the left staircase and almost ran into Audrey, whose hair was wavy as it hung around her shoulders. She was dressed in a pink nightdress with a white coat and leather boots - quite the statement. And when she jumped back from Mal, she squeaked in surprise.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for the guards," Mal said. She wondered if Audrey was looking for Carlos. "Do you know what happened to them all?"

Audrey shrugged and turned her nose to the ceiling. She pulled her coat tightly around her and gold flashed on her finger. "Well, Mal, I haven't the faintest. I'm not exactly in a position to know things, thanks to you. I shouldn't even be speaking to you, remember?" She marched down the stairs, feeling the steps with her toes as she descended so she could keep her nose in the air. Mal watched her go, then peered down the hallway. Four guards were looking down at her from a distance. Two in front of Ben's door, two in front of Adam's. Mal picked up the skirt and hurried down to stop in front of Ben's door.

"Excuse me," she said, huffing for breath. "Can you please open this door for me?"

"The king's asleep, madam. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to see you in the morning, however."

The other one elbowed her. "That's her," he whispered to his comrade. "The girl."

Mal took a step back, bracing herself for a fight. "The girl?" she wondered.

"The dancing girl," the guard clarified. "I was there on your outing, don't you remember me?"

Mal put a hand to her forehead. "I'll be honest, that day is in shambles in my head."

"That's alright," he said. He glanced at his friend. "Well, he and she have an ongoing courting, I thought, and-"

"We don't!" Mal sputtered. "I've warned him of his death twice. That's all."

"Well, not all, but-"

"Can you please open this door?"

The first guard twisted the knob without much hesitation now. "You don't have to be so embarrassed," he said. "Tons of royals do this all the time."

"For god's sake!" Mal stepped past the two and skimmed the room. As Carlos had said, it was empty. But she'd seen Ben here. She'd been able to knock and he'd appeared. That meant…

"You can leave a note," the second guard said. "He's not here yet."

Mal snorted. "Eleven at night. Sure. Why would you be here if he wasn't?"

This room was a mockery. A facade. But an effective facade would have to have an access. Such an access could be marked by anything… the painting of Auradon city on the wall, the large bed taking up most of the room, or…

The bookshelf. On the left side of the room was a bookshelf. And sitting on the second shelf was a painted book of Shakespeare. The cover depicted a man in a purple robe collapsed on the streets. Mal crossed the room, ignoring how both guards peered in after, and ran her fingertips down the title. In the library, on the day Ben had come to ask her to accompany him, Belle had been reading and he'd done a double-take at the book. That one had just been a plain one, and Mal couldn't remember if there was another painted copy in the library anywhere. But Romeo and Juliet had marked the entrance to the first passage… and there could be dozens more books like this set about the palace. Of course Ben would know every single entrance - every way to get back to the library.

"Et tu, brute?" Mal whispered.

Belle's favorite author. The one known for his artistry and foreshadowing. And the very play of treason sitting on his shelf.

"Gentlemen," Mal turned back to the hall. "All the guards in every other area of the palace have vanished. We're unprotected and I think something bad might happen tonight."

"I'm sure there's no reason to fret, madam," the first guard said. "Perhaps they're only switching the guards around?"

"No one leaves their posts when they do that," Mal said. "There's no guards in the entrance, no guards beside Prince Carlos, not even any guards by Queen Belle. I need one of you to find out what's happening."

"Of course," The second guard agreed. "I'll go down now." He beckoned to one of the guards beside King Adam's door and both men took off at a hurried pace down the stairs.

The first guard stepped inside the door. "King Ben's not here, Miss Mal. We've been waiting up for him for the last few hours. Perhaps you might try his study?"

But Mal wrapped her hands around the tome on the shelf. "Hence, wilt thou lift up Olympus?" she whispered and pulled it off the shelf. The entire wall rumbled and pulled toward the right, away from the hall, to vanish seamlessly into the wall. A corridor with carpet was revealed, heavy lanterns dangling from the walls on ornate hooks all the way out of sight.

The guard pulled his sword. "Well, you've been a marvelous help," he cackled. Mal glanced at him in alarm. A gold ring was glinting on his finger as he raised his sword above his head and swung. Mal ducked and the sword dug into the bookcase. She punched him in the gut and, when he keeled over for breath, slammed her chin against his head. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped.

The guards. The guards were traitors. That's why they were all gone, they were all traitors!

Adam's other guard appeared in the doorway with a pistol in a shaking hand. "Hands above your head, and maybe you'll live to see the sunrise," he demanded. But Mal put her hands together. They were cold, clammy, shaking with the shock of the secrets unraveling, but she pictured a spark and flames came to life in her palm. She imagined a snake - a fiery serpent - and flicked her hand. Her fiery whip lashed the guard across the chest and sent him flying into the wall. Door shut - she needed to shut the door now before-

It flung itself shut and locked itself with a click. Perfect.

The whip writhed to life and Mal dropped it with a yelp. Her fiery serpent had accidentally become a serpent. She had a black asp coiling at her feet, which she promptly jumped from. The last thing Mal needed was to explore Antony and Cleopatra when King Duncan was about to be murdered. She sprinted away from the snake while it briefly examined its surroundings and then settled down beside the forgotten book. Down the passageway and into the heart of the castle.

She went down a flight of steps then up two more, twisting every so often as the passageway grew more and more damp. It opened up suddenly on a room with one bed pushed up against the wall, a net hanging from the ceiling like a place to sit and about six different bookcases in different spots and angles around the rest of the room. However, it was still empty. The only comfort was that it looked absolutely untouched. No sign of a struggle anywhere.

On one bookcase sat a copy of Hamlet with the Ghost of King Hamlet engraven on the front. Mal wasted no time in ripping the cover off its stand. The wall slid down into the floor and Mal found herself on the top floor of the library, looking over the balcony to the couches down below. She peered down - the doors were locked, all was silent and still. No one was here.

Where was Ben? Had he used a different passage?

She needed to find him, get him to safety, and she also had to worry about Carlos, Belle, or Adam also being hurt.

If she went back through this passage, the guard with the gun would be waiting. She'd have to find a new passage or risk the doors… not too bad of an idea if the guards had returned unless the one rogue had managed to convince them she was an enemy or something. The only problem was that the doors were locked and chained… wait, they were locked from the inside?

The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. She wasn't alone here.

This realization came a bit too late, though, as she heard someone cock a gun behind her and heard the bullet slide into place. "What're you doing here?" a man growled. "Who's with you?"

"I left two behind me," Mal said softly. She was examining the room below - the vast expanse of library. "Just… popping in for a book."

"A book."

"A book."

"A book of what?"

"Well, I was just looking for some light reading, but I do have half a mind to get a bible now."

The man laughed softly. "A bible won't save you now," he said.

Mal glanced over her shoulder. It was a man exactly like the first two who'd taken the Romeo and Juliet passage. Completely dressed in black, face covered. "Actually, for you. I think you might need it. You're about to meet your maker."

She saw his finger flex on the trigger and let herself collapse like a rag doll. The bullet exploded from the chamber and flew over her head to become embedded in the books behind her. Without wasting another moment, Mal climbed over the balcony, leaned back, and dropped off. She hit the couch, which groaned under her weight, climbed off it, and ran into the bookcases. People began to shout.

"She went into the books!"

"Find her! Find the witch!"

Mal ripped a copy of Henry Ⅴ off a pedestal and slammed it into a man's head as he came around the corner. She dropped it on him for good measure and then took off further into the library, going deeper and deeper into the tomes. A good fifty feet back, there was another place for reading with five large couches gathered in a broad circle. Mal had no idea what it was normally for, but for now it made a great hiding place as she ducked behind one couch and peered back at the open passage, where eight different men had gathered and were peering inside, searching for her. Ten men, then, not counting at least two fake guards.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Mal whipped around and saw Ben holding a finger to his lips. Oh, thank the lords! He was fine!

"You're here?" she whispered. "I thought you were supposed to be hidden!"

"Thought I should come defend my castle," he whispered back. "What are you doing here? I'd thought you'd be asleep."

"Carlos said he heard people sneaking in and came for help. Audrey had told him to go back to bed."

"Goodness, you're in your nightclothes." Ben sighed. He himself was completely dressed and with some sort of thin breastplate under his shirt. "Are you armed? We should get you out."

"It's you we need to get out," Mal said. "I'm not leaving you behind."

There was a crash as one of the assassins let out a roar of frustration. Apparently, they'd figured out that Mal hadn't gone down the open passage. They swiped a shelf and all the books went crashing towards the floor. Ben moved over Mal's shoulder to watch everything go tumbling down. His hand trailed down her arm, to her wrist, and she spun back around. Now they were face to face with their features so close that Mal couldn't see all his face. They were breathing the same air.

Ben looked just as surprised by the appearance of her face against his as she was. His eyes flicked down. So did hers. They let their heads drift a few inches closer and then simultaneously came back to earth.

"Sorry," Ben whispered. "I just-" he shook his head and leaned back. "Here." He unfolded her hand and pulled his pistol out of its holster on his belt. "Can you use this? It has three shots."

"Well, I assume you pull the trigger," Mal whispered. I'd rather you have it, though. You're the better shot."

"What are you going to use to protect yourself?"

"I'm a fist fighter. Always have been."

"Absolutely not." Ben glanced over the couch at the assassins, who were debating what to do. "They don't know where I am yet and I know where the weapons are here. You stay here, with this," he put the handle of the gun in her hands, "and I'll be right back."

He paused then, and then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Stay safe," he whispered.

"You too."

Ben crouched down behind the couches and then went to the left of the library, towards the windows. Mal watched him until he was out of sight and then sighed, holding the gun closer to her. There was going to be death here tonight. Just hopefully not hers.

"They're both in here somewhere," One of the assassins spat. "They can't hide forever!"

"The passages," someone said. "They could already be gone!"

"Shut the palace down. No one gets in and no one goes out. If it takes days to hunt him down, so be it."

Mal heard footsteps coming up on the couch. She crawled to the left to hide behind the armrest as two thugs walked by. A lantern was swinging in between them as they peered in between every shelf. She backed up and felt the barrel of a gun press into her head. "Don't move, witch," they hissed. Without a moment of hesitation, Mal aimed Ben's gun behind her and pulled the trigger. A bang made the walls shake. The man toppled on top of her and warm blood soaked into her clothes.

"Over here!"

"Man down!"

So much for staying hidden…

Mal pushed the body off of her and got to her knees. She squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. How did one reload a gun?

Someone pulled their trigger. Mal flinched and the bullet paused in midair and thunked uselessly on the floor. That gave her enough time to figure out how to rotate the next bullet into the chamber. She fired, and the attacker collapsed. Then she turned, fired, and another fell. But that was the third bullet and now she was out of bullets. Tough luck.

Someone fired behind her and Mal saw a flash of metal. A sword sliced the air in front of her and the bullet ricocheted off of it. Ben pushed her to the ground in front of the couch and then pulled the back of it and rolled it on top of them. Their shoulders and legs were squeezed up against each other. "Gun?" he panted. Mal palmed it to him.

From out of his pocket came three bullets that quickly replaced the three three now missing. He slapped it back into place and handed it back to her. "I counted four," he whispered. "You're a pretty good shot."

"It's point-blank, Ben. Anyone's a good shot."

Shots rang out and the couch groaned on top of them. They were running out of time. It was a thick couch, but Mal didn't want to bet her life on it. Ben listened, waiting. When the shots paused so everyone could reload, he nudged Mal and then lifted the couch. She saw two pairs of legs and fired upwards. Two black-clothed figures fell. Ben flipped the couch the rest of the way over and Mal turned to fire. Her shot went wide though. Without a moment of hesitation, she threw the gun. It spiraled barrel over butt and smacked him across the forehead. Not enough to knock him out, but he dropped his gun as he lost his balance. It fell by Mal, who snatched it up and took aim.

Ben had leapt over the couch and taken a swing at the second person. They'd been forced back, fumbling with their gun until they'd stumbled into the bookcase and been forced to stop. As they continued fumbling, the bullets they'd been trying to load spilled all over the floor. Ben kicked the gun out of their hands and pinned the sword at their throats. Everything stilled.

"Are you okay?" Ben whispered.

"What?" the guy who he was holding asked. Ben nodded over his shoulder.

"Of course," Mal said, realizing he was talking about her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Mal, you just shot five people who were shooting back at you."

Mal's mouth quirked up. "I'm Isle-raised, Ben. Isle of the Lost isn't exactly an elementary school."

Ben hummed. "You never fail to impress."

The guy on the wall groaned. "Oh, just kiss already!" he snapped. "Stupid king and filthy little-" There was a flash of silver. He'd pulled a knife out of his sleeve and was bringing it down on Ben's chest. Mal gasped. Ben grabbed the man's wrist seconds before it went through his heart. The assassin pulled his legs up and kicked Ben away.

"Ben!" Mal moved to help him but the man she was guarding brought his gun up. They were now frozen, staring down each others' barrels.

The assassin rushed forward, raising his knife, and Ben brought his sword up to stop him. The scratch of the metal made Mal flinch, but she didn't move - didn't move the gun from where she had pointed it.

Ben managed to get back to his feet and the two began to exchange blow for blow with the screech of metal separating every swing. A block with a scrape. A knock and a pang. A grunt from one with a deep breath from the other.

Ben was an excellent swordsman. Where he'd picked that up, Mal had no clue, but he was good. He had the longer weapon too. The assassin wouldn't last long when Ben was planning ahead every move and carefully guarding everything vital while his attacker was so focused on trying to kill that he was leaving himself unguarded.

Then, he seemed to realize that too.

The man in black jumped back and ran. Ben pursued, dashing around a bookcase to cut off his escape. In turn, the assassin ripped a book off the shelf and flung it before heading even further to the left. He was looking for something and apparently found it. From the side of a bookcase, he procured a sword identical to the one Ben held. It must be a decoration holder there.

Armed with the sword and the knife, the assassin made towards Ben again. Mal was shaking in her shoes, but she didn't dare move.

The assassin slashed and Ben ducked under his arm before attacking, forcing him to cross arms to protect himself. Even with the two weapons, he was still outmatched. Ben kicked him down. The assassin tried to slice at his leg, but Ben stepped on his wrists, one before the other, and that was it.

"You stupid, filthy-" The assassin swore and writhed.

Ben frowned and pressed harder on his wrists. "There's a lady present. Watch your mouth."

Mal was so relieved, she almost fell over. The man she'd been holding at gunpoint growled, knocked her gun away, and squeezed the trigger. Ben let out a yell, but Mal had ducked. With one blow to the head, the guy slumped to the ground.

Mal fixed her gun on the last one. He glared through his mask. "Do it," he hissed. "I bet you won't. You're just a pathetic, swine of a child, who-"

"Just stop," Ben rolled his eyes.

"I know you," Mal said. Both Ben and the man on the floor paused. "I know your voice." She cast her mind back to try to remember who. "You've been in Ben's office before."

"Of course he has." Ben nodded. He bent down and pointed at the guy's hand before straightening up. "It's King Phillip. Audrey's dad. The only other royal ruler in the court who has a ring. He and my dad are old friends."

"But Audrey loves Ben," Mal said. "Why would you want him dead?"

"I believe that would be because I don't love Audrey." Ben hummed. "Well, Mal, what should we do with him?"

Mal bent down and pried the knife out of Phillip's hand. She twisted the ring off and examined it. Phillip had a ring… and Audrey had a ring. She pinched her lips together. "Interrogate him," she decided and curled four of his fingers down. With a cautionary glance up at Ben, she popped Phillip's pinkie finger out of place. He threw his head back and yowled.

"Hush," she commanded. "Listen. I'll put it back in just a moment, but you're going to tell us everything you know about the passageways in the palace."

"The passageways?" Ben repeated.

Phillip seemed to know what she was talking about, though. He bit down on the fabric of his mask and shook his head. Mal popped another finger out of joint. "Come on. Who told you? Who'd you tell? How many people know?"

Ben was beginning to look unsteady, but didn't protest.

"I'll do your toes too," Mal threatened. "And your arms and elbows and legs. Everything. I can put it back just as easily as I can take it apart."

When Phillip remained silent, Mal uncurled a third finger and began to twist it. Then a bang echoed through the library. It was so sudden that Mal didn't realize what it was for a moment. A gunshot.

Ben gasped.

A hole had opened up in his chest, right on top of his sternum. That wasn't right, Mal thought. He wasn't supposed to have a hole there. And how odd… he always wore blue and now his shirt was red and-

She came back to Auradon in a rush of color and shock. "Ben!" She gasped. He fell back, off of Phillip, who simply turned over and tried to move his hand, whimpering.

Ben laid back, putting some light pressure on the wound while Mal tried to bat his hands away. He was looking back up on the balcony. Mal followed his gaze just in time to see someone in white move out of the way. They'd done their job.

"Oh my gosh," Mal whispered. "Oh my gosh."

Ben took a few deep breaths. "I got shot," he whispered. "I got shot." Mal's hands were shaking. The room was beginning to grow hazy. She continued trying to pull Ben's hands away, but he wouldn't let her as he thought.

"Ben, let me see."

"Bullet."

"Yes. Bullet. Let me get to it."

"We have to get it out."

"Not now, not now." Mal picked up his hand and put it to her cheek. He let it stay and moved the other hand as well. Mal shook. "Not now. We have to leave it in until we're safe. That's what's keeping the blood in, Ben."

"I was shot." Ben exhaled and leaned his head back. "I was shot."

"Did you see who it was?" Mal began unbuttoning Ben's shirt. The breastplate was ripped away and set aside. She made him keep his head up while she balled up the torso and pressed it into the wound.

Ben shook his head. "They were wearing a mask," he whispered. The shock was making his eyes look foggy and distant. Mal took his face.

"Listen. Listen. Focus on me. Can you hear me?"

"I hear you fine," Ben whispered.

"Okay. Okay. We're going to get you help now. I'm going to look at the bullet once you're safe. I'm going to go get help. I need you to-"

"What's that smell?"

Mal blinked. The room had seemed hazy before, but now she was realizing it wasn't in her head. Smoke was gathering on the ceiling - thick clouds. As she realized this, thundering footsteps came plundering alongside the bookcases, racing for the exit. They yanked on the door, but it was still locked fast. It was the two thugs from earlier. They were now lanternless.

"They set the place on fire!" Mal looked down at Ben. "Oh my gosh, Ben, we have to get you out of here!"

"I bolted the doors," Ben whispered. "We can't leave everyone here."

"Of course we can! They were trying to kill you! We can totally leave him here!"

"No." Ben fixed her with a hard look. "We can't."

He pointed behind her and Mal turned to follow his finger. At the end of the bookcase, on a pedestal, sat a copy of King Lear. Mal glared at Ben. "This system is really obvious now that I've figured it out."

She left him to go rip the book off the pedestal and yelled to the two banging on the door. "Hey!" she shouted. "You can get out this way."

Technically, she should be trying to apprehend them. But the smoke was growing closer, the flames now in sight around a few of the bookcases, and she was out of time. She returned to Ben and almost had a heart attack. He'd stood back up, still pressing his shirt into the wound, and was helping King Phillip to his feet.

"Are you insane?" Mal demanded. "You're going to kill yourself. Ben, you're-"

Phillip snarled at Ben and waved his knife, which he'd recovered, with his good hand. "You're not leaving!" he snarled. "If I have to die here with you, then so be it and-"

Mal hit him over the head with the book. He slumped, lifeless. She brandished the title at Ben. "Are you an idiot?" she demanded. "Do I need to knock you out too?"

"I do believe that would still count as treason despite the circum-"

The spine of the book drew closer to his nose and Ben shut up. In the distance, a bookcase crashed. He swallowed, then said "I'll do it myself if you won't help me. But I'm not leaving unconscious people to die."

Mal almost cursed. Oh, if he died, his soul better go straight to hell for this stress. "Fine!" she snapped. She seized Phillip by the arm and hauled him into the open corridor. "Have it your way!" When she turned back around, Ben had leaned down and was trying to pull someone else towards the doors. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

"Stop that!" She snapped. She smacked his hand away. His wound was bleeding more profusely, dripping down over his stomach despite the shirt soaking some of it up. "You are dying! Do you hear me? You are dying and you are going to die faster if you keep being stupid!" She leaned down to take the person's hand and found it stone cold and stiff. "Ben, they're already dead."

"I was hoping we could-"

"I am not saving bodies when your life's on the line!" Mal yelled. "By God, Ben! How can someone so genius be so stupid? Don't you realize what's happening? None of these people matter! They're all murderers - you execute murderers!"

"I'm still their king," Ben said. His skin was going pale and his lips blue. "I'm their king and they're my responsibility. Just like you. Just like all the magical people. I don't turn my back on anyone."

"It's not about turning your back on someone!" Something built up in the back of Mal's throat. She thought it was the smoke until she hiccuped. Something cold froze on her cheek. A tear. Oh, God, was she crying in front of the King of Auradon? "Ben, you're important to me. I don't want you to die. I don't care about them, I care about you."

"Then you'll help me get them out," Ben said. "If they're dead, fine, but we have to save the ones that are still alive."

All the color was leaving him. All the color in his skin, his mouth, even his eyes. His hair seemed darker and darker as the rosy tones left him. Mal hiccuped and wiped her cheeks. "Sit down," she begged. "I'll get them. Fine, I'll get them. Just stay… stay down."

Ben took a seat against the bookcase as per her request and pressed the shirt into the wound. She couldn't judge how severe the pain was, but he closed his eyes and took slow breaths. "Work fast," she thought. "Fast."

Some people were already dead. She could tell by the stiffness and the temperature of their hands or necks while she quickly checked pulses. But two or three were still alive and could probably be helped, so she pulled them into the corridor. As she dropped the third one in, she noticed the flames were now in view, licking away at the towering bookcases. Crashes were becoming commonplace in the distance.

Ben had begun holding back coughs, which only served to jostle the wound. He was pale, so pale, and the shirt barely had any blue left to soak it up. Mal went to him, put her hand to his cheek, and tried to meet his gaze. His eyes had glazed over. "Ben?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face. He closed his eyes against the invaders. "Hey, you have to stay awake. Stay with me."

His hand floated up to grab hers on his cheek and he tried to stand. The flames were creeping over the carpet and everything was growing warm. Mal helped him to his feet. As he righted himself, he couldn't hold back his coughs anymore. Mal felt more tears begin to fall when he almost doubled over with the ash in the air. She was feeling it too - they couldn't be here anymore.

They stumbled into the hall with the flames licking at their heels. Mal helped Ben lean against the wall. King Lear had been tucked under her arm. She placed it on the pedestal and whipped her hand back as the door closed, separating them from the collapsing bookcases and the burning bodies. They were safe.

Ben collapsed.

"Mal!" Someone yelled from down the corridor as Mal dropped to Ben's side and rolled him over. It was Evie, dashing down with blue skirts flying as she ran. "What's happened?"

"He was shot," Mal said shortly. She ran her hands down Ben's chest. "I don't have any tools. I can't take it out."

Evie pushed Mal's hands aside and covered the wound with two hands. "Ben, honey, listen, this may hurt." He didn't respond in the slightest, but when a blue light appeared under Evie's hands, he writhed and shouted. Mal crawled around Evie, took Ben's head in her hands, and shushed him. Evie took her hands back and held up the bullet. "What now?" She asked. "I've never had to fix anything like this before - I don't know what to do."

"We need to clean it and close the wound and bind it before he loses any more blood," Mal said. "I can do it - I know how."

She and Evie switched places and Mal used the last bit of Ben's shirt to wipe away as much of the blood as she could. There wasn't any alcohol on hand, so she'd have to make do and finish later. She found the edge of her nightdress and tore a long strip off of it, wrapped it above the wound, and pulled it tight. Some of the blood flow lessened. Mal quickly wrapped it down and pulled it tight underneath the wound as well. Two more strips and the blood stopped soaking through.

Mal ran her hand over the covered wound. She imagined everything relaxing, knitting back together, straightening up, and almost died of shock when her hand lit up. Ben let out a little sigh of relief. She glanced up at him. Evie looked just as surprised as Mal was. "Who taught you intentional magic?" she asked.

"Jay taught me how to make a fire, but that's all I know."

"It works," Ben whispered. His eyes were still closed. Evie pinched her lips.

"You know you won't be able to fix everything, right? Bullet wounds are a lot of damage."

"I wasn't even trying to do this," Mal admitted. "I just…" She left her hand to rest on Ben's heart. "You're going to be okay, Ben."

"He's lost a lot of blood, Mal," Evie whispered. "Feel him. He's freezing."

Mal's fingers traced a trail from Ben's heart to his neck, where she located the pulse and stilled her own breathing so she could feel the stammering flutter against her fingertips. Ben's hand came up to touch her own. A smile was frozen on his face. "Your magic is beautiful," he whispered. "I've never seen magic before."

Mal smiled. She wiped off more tears and put both hands onto Ben's heart, feeling out for the pulse, listening closely for the beat. "I don't know much, but I think I know enough," she whispered. "I won't let you die, Ben."

Collaboration with Xez2003