So I completely forgot I hadn't finished uploading this. The full version (and my other descendants fics) can be found over on AO3 under the pen name idontwantperfection

The Isle. Present Day.

"Ben, something's just happened to your dad."

"What?" Ben was confused. He'd heard Mal's words. He understood them. He saw the way she was trying to wriggle out from under him and push him back into an upright position. But none of it made sense.

They were supposed to be having make up sex in the back of the limo, mere feet from her mother's house and his bodyguards for the added risk factor.

Mal frantically pushing him back onto his knees and snapping her fingers to fix their clothes was not where this was meant to be going. "Mal what are you talking about?"

"I don't know. I just know something happened and he's hurt. Princess of the Underworld thing."

Ben knew that Mal had picked up certain quirks from her father's side of the family. She knew when he'd been served bad seafood in a restaurant and sent it back before the plate could even touch the table of their private room. She knew that an old maid at his local farmers market really needed to go see her doctor - and when she'd tried to brush it off Mal had insisted Ben send the royal physician to the market the next day anyway.

Before either of them could react, Mal noticed movement towards the door and was back in the opposite seat before Ben registered she'd left. "Someone's coming."

Ben was still staring blankly at the spot she'd occupied when the limo door was yanked open and Lancelot, his personal bodyguard, barreled in, pushing Ben further into the limo.

"You, out." He growled at Mal, his breathing heavy, eyes wide. He reached across Ben to open the door closest to Mal, ignoring her glare. "We've got a Code Black Beta. Eagle is down. We need to get you out of here."

Ben's stomach dropped and he reached for Mal instinctively. Ignoring the fact the door was open, and any villain could see into the limo, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to his side.

She came willingly, understanding flashing across her face before her expression settled in a grim line.

Months ago, Ben had briefed her on the call signs used by the Auradon Guard. One night, when he'd snuck her into the Palace, they were woken by an alert of a Code Purple in the West Wing. A reporter had broken into the castle. She thought she'd been spotted.

His was Blackbird. His mother was Bluebird.

His father was Eagle.

Code Black Beta meant an active shooter.

…

"Ben, call your mom." Mal instructed, reaching to close the open door. She caught sight of Jay returning to Dragon Hall as the other bodyguards ran for their vehicles, frowning when he saw her in the limo.

She caught his eye and subtlety shook her head, instructing him to stand down. He frowned, but nodded and moved into a tactical position at the end of the square.

"What the hell are you- Out!" Lancelot looked between Ben and Mal, the panic stopping him from putting the pieces together. He was focused on his task - get Ben to safety and his father. So although he saw Ben's hand gripping Mal's waist, and the calming circles Mal was drawing on his thigh - he couldn't put things into an order that made sense.

"She stays." Ben was shaking, and Mal tried her best to keep him grounded. She didn't care about their audience, about looking weak, but if he tried to throw her out again she would fry him. The driver lowered the partition as he entered the limo, waiting for instruction. He eyed Mal warily, but thankfully jumped into action when Ben growled in his direction, "Drive."

"Sire, she's-" Lancelot tried again as they jerked forward, the limo speeding up far faster than it should have in such a crowded place.

Not that the Guard cared - this was the Isle of the Lost, not Auradon. And their focus was the safety of the future King.

"The girl I've been ditching my detail to meet for the last year. So if you have a problem with my girlfriend, save it for someone who cares. Now get me a SitRep." Ben snapped, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Mal ignored the way Lancelot's eyes widened at Ben's words, instead reaching out to grab his vibrating hand.

"Ben, call your mom," she repeated, summoning her cell from its hiding place in her room. She stashed it all over the Isle, always keeping it close, camouflaged under a glamour.

"There's no reception on the Isle." Lancelot pointed out, his eyes bugging out at the phone that had just materialised in her hand. He looked like he wanted to snatch it and throw it out the window, but somehow thought better of going hand to hand with her.

"It'll work," Mal threw a dismissive look in his direction, not bothering to point out that this was an Olympian model. Anything from Mount Olympus was immune to the effects of the barrier - godly trumped magical. Mal had bought it after Ben first left the Isle, not quite knowing what she was going to do with it but charging it to her Uncle Zeus' account anyway.

There was a moment of silence as Ben dialled his mother's number from memory, and Mal waiting for Lancelot to begin briefing Ben. When he didn't, she snapped straight back into Isle Bitch, "He asked for a SitRep."

The command resonated with the Guard at a base level. This wasn't Mal the girlfriend or Mal the demigod. This was the Daughter of Maleficent. She spoke with an authority that was underpinned by power and fear.

When she gave orders they were followed. And god help you if you didn't.

Sitting that bit straighter, as if he was faced with his Academy drill sergeant, Lancelot relented, "The King and Queen were the opening of Belle's new outreach centre. There were three shots. Second shot hit the King. No one saw a shooter. He is en route to Duke now."

Duke was Auradon's leading hospital, but Mal hoped that they were not bypassing other hospitals in favour of it. Her 'Princess of the Underworld' feelings were telling her the King needed to get to the closest hospital, and fast.

"We're two hours from Duke!" Ben exploded, able to do the math that Mal couldn't. Her knowledge was based on the few places she and Ben were able to visit inconspicuously and the things Ben mentioned in passing.

When her father had taken her off the Isle, it was always to the Underworld or Mount Olympus. She'd even been to Greece a couple of times. Hades had no ties to Auradon, other than it should have been his daughter's birthplace.

"The Royal Helicopter is going to meet us at the other end of the bridge. We can get it down to forty minutes." Lancelot assured Ben, glancing out the front of the limo as if he would be able to see the helicopter in the air from here.

"Mom?" Ben's call connected before anyone could say anything else. His relief at reaching his mother was short lived. Mal could hear Belle's hysteria from her position at Ben's side.

Mal glanced to the front of the limo, estimating how long it would take them to reach the barrier at their current speed.

It was one thing to avoid acting rashly. It was another to sit on her hands when she could act. Without taking her eyes off the road, she asked calmly, "Ben, is your mom in the ambulance with your dad?"

Ben just looked lost as he tried to make sense of his mother's sobs. Lancelot waited a moment then reluctantly nodded. Setting her lips in a grim line, Mal made her choice.

They were still a few minutes from the barrier, even at this speed. And they'd need to slow to open it. Another car would wait around for it to close. But Ben couldn't wait the forty minutes to see his father.

And if the tingling near the nape of her neck was correct, which it always was, King Adam didn't have forty minutes either.

Sometimes being the daughter of Hades had it perks.

She fixed Lancelot with a look and stated calmly, "Meet us at the hospital."

She saw Lancelot's shock, but she left him no time to react. The moment she grabbed Ben, she pulled them out of the limo.

Teleporting was easy, if you knew how.

There was her father's method. She called it 'smoking'. She'd disappear in a cloud of purple smoke in one place and reappear in a burst of green flame in another. Hades was blue on both entry and exit. All you had to do was focus on where you wanted to land.

Then there was her mother's. It was more like flying. It left a trail of purple smoke that announced her presence. Her intentions. Took longer. She didn't use it very often.

One moment they were in the limo. Under the barrier. The next they were in the ambulance next to Queen Belle.

Ben's mother screamed at the flash of green flame, frying her already frayed nerves. She dropped her cell and threw herself in front of the King as a human shield. The paramedic dropped the kit he was holding and went even paler. Mal almost felt sorry for him, he was most likely a day job medic who was only expecting to treat basic first aid issues resulting from crowd control problems.

And then she took in the scene before her.

Blood was everywhere. Belle's yellow gown was stained from where she'd clearly tried to help her husband. King Adam was drifting in and out of consciousness, and he was a worrying shade of grey. His glasses were askew, broken in the rush to get him into the vehicle. He still had his suit and shirt on, and the pool of blood around his shoulder was spreading.

No one except Belle seemed to be doing anything to try and stop the bleeding.

"Get out of my way." Swearing under her breath, Mal rounded the end of the stretcher and pushed the medic out of her way. Belle whimpered, still shielding her husband with her body as she tried to press down on the bullet hole. Mal tried to rearrange her features into something like reassurance, "Let me help."

Mal expected Belle to look her over. To take in the purple hair, the ripped T-shirt and vibrant leggings. To realise she was a villain and double down over her husband. Instead, she seemed to be searching Mal's eyes. Whatever she was looking for, she found it before Ben had a chance to step in. Ben was reaching to put a hand on his mother's shoulder - but Mal knew he hadn't looked away from his father yet - when Belle nodded and pulled back.

"Please," she whispered, moving back to clutch Adam's hand.

Mal just nodded and reached for the dagger she had concealed at her hip. To her credit, Belle didn't react when Mal moved the blade towards the King. Pulling the fabric away from the wound, she made quick work of removing any clothing that could get in her way.

"I hope you aren't too attached to this shirt," Mal joked, knowing she needed to keep talking. Trying to anchor him in the world of the living.

Carefully, Mal held the King in place while she moved the top of the stretcher back a notch. Enough to see that the bullet hadn't exited the other side of the body. Moving him back onto the support, she reached down to find his pulse and started counting.

"Keep pressing down on the wound. The harder the better. Don't worry about hurting him." Mal instructed, putting Belle's wrap back over the wound and placing the Queen's hands over it with her free hand. She kept counting.

Field medicine was picked up by necessity on the Isle. Whether you were patching yourself up after a fight, helping the kids after a particularly nasty beating, or dealing with the aftermath of more serious attacks, you did what you needed to do.

Her father had gone one step further. He'd taught her how to use her powers for healing. The line between the living and the dead was a fine one. And there was plenty she could do to influence it.

The King's pulse was weak and thready. The tingling in her neck was getting stronger.

"Look at me," Reaching up, she grabbed the King's face in both her hands, turning his head towards her. He groaned, and she took it as a good sign, "C'mon now, eyes on me."

She needed him to open his eyes. Just a flicker. Enough that she could see his pupils and catch his gaze. After another few moments of coaxing, his eyelids fluttered and Mal seized her opportunity.

Her mother only had one use for this power - pain. She'd catch your eye and, boom, there's a vice around your throat. Mal knew she could do more than that.

She heard Belle gasp when her eyes began to glow, but she didn't pay it any attention. She pushed her way into Adam's mind, searching for the area in the most pain. Once she found it, she shut it down. It wasn't a permanent fix, but what she was about to do was going to hurt like a bitch.

"This is going to sting a little, but I promise I'm not trying to hurt you."

Slowly, her hands moved to hover at either side of Belle's. Still keeping eye contact, she began to murmur the incantations under her breath. She barely noticed the air turning blue as she moved her hands in semi circles over the shoulder. When she was ready, she pushed down on either side of the wound - hard - and looked down as the blue-white light flashed when the magic hit his skin.

King Adam gasped and arched off the table when she broke eye contact, his pain receptors returning to normal operations, but her hands kept him in place. She focused on working the magic through his body, repairing everything as it went. After a few minutes, and she was sure she had everything, she moved Belle's hands and the wrap away.

Belle's breath hitched when she felt something hard inside the fabric. Slowly, she turned the bloodied wrap over and made a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh when she discovered the bullet.

Reaching out, she gingerly touched the healed skin. A few moments ago there had been a gaping wound. Now the skin had knitted back together. A slightly raised scar was in its place.

"The spell speeds up the body's natural healing process," Mal explained, reaching down to check his pulse again. It was still weak, but it was an improvement on a few minutes before. More importantly, the tingling had stopped. "It means it can't wear off or be broken if something happens to the person who cast it. He'll still need blood and time to recover. But he'll be okay."

She finally met Ben's eyes.

Her boyfriend was pale - almost as pale as her natural colouring. He was shaking, and at some point he'd started crying. The sight gutted Mal.

Ben was the one thing in her life that was supposed to be untouchable. He was good and pure and deserved so much better than watching his father bleed out on a stretcher.

"I've got this," she promised, holding his gaze until he nodded.

She wasn't a princess.

She was a dragon.

A warrior.

She wasn't just going to neutralise the threat. She was going to annihilate it.