Word of the Believers

(Saturday Afternoon, June 22nd)

When the blond reporter outstretches her arm Mal shakes her hand and uncomfortably smiles. The woman questions, "How are you today?"

"Not sure," Mal nervously smiles.

They sit down in the alcove area, and the interviewer smiles back, "Don't worry. No one's watching yet." Mal nods, and she takes a breath, "Why don't we start with your charge? How have you been fairing with the conditions of your parole?"

Mal squeezes her hands together as she frowns, "A little hard." before she looks back at her in hesitance. "I have to take my temperature twice a day, and I have to make sure those temperatures don't become too low. And, uh, a little while ago I got sick." She glances down, "Actually, I got sick a couple times." Mal frowns at her, "It's harder to keep my temperature up when I'm sick, and one day when I was so out of it, I only got one reading. And I, um… I hope I don't get in trouble for that."

"But otherwise," she inquires, "you've been doing well?"

Mal nods, "Yeah. I think so."

"And you and Princess Audrey," she continues, "have you spoken since the incident?"

"Yeah," Mal unsurely states. "We have."

"And are you on good terms now?"

Mal recalls how Audrey had warned her of Ben's emotional neglectfulness, "I'm not sure." She frowns, "Audrey really tried to get to know and to help me, and I was trying to get along with her…"

"But?" she prods on.

Mal continues to frown, "I feel like she had another reason. It felt like she didn't mean it. Not that I blame her, but the whole thing just made me confused." Mal's eyes shift down, "I still don't know if she hates me or not."

"Will you be speaking to her again?"

Mal meets her honey brown eyes, "Unfortunately." and when the reporter doesn't comment Mal remembers. "She has a lot of people who care about her, which is honestly hard." She feels her eyes burn, and she keeps her eyes open to prevent tears, "There was even this one servant of hers who was with us at dinner." She laughs, "And he poisoned me."

"He poisoned you?" her mouth gapes.

"With cyanide," she informs, "and then Audrey fired him."

The reporter scoots to the edge of her seat, "Mal. This is a good time to get the country to get to know you better. It's not a good time for stories."

"I know no one will believe me," Mal glances down. "That's why I didn't report the guy. No one ever has. That's why I don't ask for help… anymore." She faces her, "But I'm not going to lie, because I like to say it. I wanted to say that this happened to me, because there's been other things no one believed. This, it just proves Auradon isn't any better than the Isle. Because, the fact is if I were anything other than a dragon hybrid, then I'd be dead right now. And because no one believes me, just like I wasn't believed on the Isle, I have no reason to lie." Mal remembers her talk with Uma, "I have no reason to lie, because it's nothing more than another story, and I get to continue on with my day because it never really happened."

"So, which is it?" she questions. "Did it or did it not happen?"

Mal's quiet for a minute, before she eyes past the woman, "As my mother would say, history is written by the word of the believers. So, if what I went through isn't believed, then it never happened." She thinks, "The guys who did those things won't be punished and the girls who weren't on my side won't be criticized, because nothing ever happened." Mal swallows, before the tears escape and she whispers, "Because, it only happened here." She points to her temple, "It's up here, and if I live years, decades, or centuries… I'll never be able to forget."

After a moment the blond comments, "You said that on the Isle of the Lost no one believed you. Would you like to tell us what you mean by that?"

When Mal hunches over and sobs into her hands Ben steps into view of the camera and goes to sit next to her. He whispers her name, and she turns into him, head on his shoulder, before he wraps his arms around her and rubs her back.

After Ben knocks again, he calls, "Mal." but there's still no answer. He slowly opens the door, finding her to be nowhere in sight, before he says her name again and walks inside. There's that scent, her scent. He notices the open bathroom door and walks towards it, "Mal." but when he gets to the arch his mouth gapes.

Mal looks up and notices him place a hand on the doorframe, "Ben?"

There's so much blood, dripping from the razor in her hand and puddling from the cuts on her pale legs. He grips the doorframe harder, as the scent overpowers him. He must get out of there, but he can't. He's stuck in that spot, transfixed on the red. There it is, right there. His grip loosens on the wood with each breath. All he has to do is let go, and he will have it. He lets go and steps forward, gazing over her, before he kneels. Tears stain her face, and when his eyes meet the blade, he slowly takes it. The red on it, he brings it to his lips and cleans it away, before he sets it down on the tub, leaning on the edge before meeting her curious expression.

"Ben?"

He eyes back down at the cuts covering her thighs, and he leans in towards one near her knee, sucking the blood from the wound. It's quiet as he works his way up the puddles, and he swallows the taste of the sweet smokiness.

"Ben," Mal says again, and when he hears her concern he meets her eyes. "I know this might sound strange, but are you okay?"

He glances down as he steps in his place, putting his hand back on the doorframe. He faces her and hesitates, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"You know about this," she reminds him.

He slightly shakes his head, "I thought Evie was helping you."

Mal's quiet for a moment, "Should would have if she were here." and when Ben doesn't speak she looks over him. "I'm scaring you."

"No," he quickly reassures. "It's just." He feels the pain in his stomach and shuts his eyes hard, holding his breath.

"Ben?"

"I have to go," he uncomfortably states, before he turns around, hurries out of the room, and heads for the kitchen. He looks through the fridge, the cupboards, and the freezer, but nothing compares. He turns around and crunches down to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees and shutting his eyes. It hurts. It really hurts.

"Ben?" Ben makes a noise, before he squints his eyes open. "King Ben?"

Towering over him is a guy with dirty blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a dishwashing apron, "Chip?" He places a hand to his head, "What are doing?"

"My mother wanted me to cook the dinner tonight," he informs, because he tilts his head in curiosity. "Sir, what are you doing there?"

"Simple," Ben says as he stands up. "When I'm hungry my body thinks the best thing to do is sleep until I'm not."

He chuckles, "Anything in mind for tonight?"

Ben frowns. He's really not in the mood for anything. Anything he can have, that is. He looks over the employee, as he catches the scent of berries and sugar. He eyes his neck. He could have it right now. He could have it right now, and no one would know.

"Sir?"

He shakes his head, "Yeah, um. No." before he attempts to smile, "Surprise me."

"Yes, sir."

Ben walks past him, and his expression falls. He's completely exhausted. All he wants to do is go back to his bed, fantasize about the delicious liquid, and hope for it to be real. He will dream of impossible situations where it will happen, because it's a lot better than thinking about how hungry he is now and how there's no way to get what he really wants. Butchers are out, because it's too public. Donors are out, because he's too afraid to ask. All he has is sleep.

- Next Up: what do you think of angels? It had to have come from somewhere, right? Stay tuned for a hybrid interpretation of it. Not every detail about "angels" will be released in this fic, but if you have an amazing memory, you will find that these characters are somewhat reoccurring... like, once every fic, let's say. Lol. Time for Mal and Jay to go back to Subway.