With Evie tucked away in her bed, Mal settles in for the night on the hideout's couch. It's stained with filth and smells of garbage, which is to be expected considering Carlos and Jay had found the thing in the trash and dragged it up to the hideout some months back. The broken springs dig uncomfortably into Mal's back whenever she turns and there's a suspicious damp spot on the center cushion, but she doesn't mind. It's not like she's doing muchactualsleeping anyway.
They had all decided to stay at the hideout with Evie for the night, and while the boys have since drifted off to sleep, Mal can't seem to shut her brain off. Whenever she closes her eyes she sees Evie with her battered face staring back at her through blackened eyes. If she starts to drift off, she hears Evie cry out in her head—the girl's soothing sultry voice replaced by a hoarse bitter cry.
You find out the prissy little princess you hate so much gets beaten and whored out by her mother and you're not thrilled?
Thrilled. Evie expected her to be thrilled. As if Mal would take pleasure in Evie's unimaginable suffering. But the truth had felt like an overwhelming blow to Mal's heart and hours later, she's still reeling from the truth that's been uncovered.
Mal forces out a deep breath and sits up, finally abandoning her half-hearted attempt at sleep. She can't quite decide what she feels worse about—the physical pain Evie has endured over the years, or the fact that Evie thinks Mal would relish in that pain. Evie had been her best friend as a child, how did they become so fractured and far removed from who they used to be?
The sound of Jay's soft snores sails through the night and disrupts Mal's wandering thoughts. In the midst of the quiet, she can hear Carlos tossing and turning in his bed on the other side of the hideout—that boy is never still, not even in his sleep. A thin wall of plaster separates her from Evie and Mal has already tip-toed to her corner of the hideout to peek through the cracked door three different times to check on the blue-haired girl.
Mal decides to make it four times and exhales with relief at the sight of Evie sleeping in her bed—although Evie's slumber appears far from peaceful. Her brow is creased and her face is twisted tight and breathy whimpers slip from her lips with every labored turn of her body. Even in her sleep, Evie seems to be shouldering the weight of the world.
Mal wrestles with the idea of waking Evie up to comfort her, to ease her of her unconscious burden, but decides she's likely to do more harm than good by startling the girl out of her sleep. Besides, comfort has never really been Mal's forte.
Dragging herself away from the doorway, Mal throws herself back down on the musty sofa and tosses her head back with a heavy sigh. She has all night to regret her mistakes and she figures she'll start at the beginning—-Evie's 6th birthday party. Evie's been locked away with only her monster of her mother for company for ten years and Mal can't help but feel responsible.
Carlos is the first to wake, long accustomed to rising at dawn in order to complete Cruella's extensive list of chores before school. With sleep still in his eyes and his hair a tousled mess, he shuffles across the floor and goes straight for the hideout's stash of digs up a bowl of cold tasteless oatmeal and some stale bread and plops down on the couch next to Mal.
"Couldn't sleep?" Carlos asks, dragging his gaze up from his oatmeal to meet Mal's tired eyes.
"I keep thinking about Evie with those men," Mal answers, voice drifting as she stares straight ahead.
Carlos hums in understanding. "Don't. You'll never sleep again."
Mal shakes her head, picking at her nails with her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't my place," Carlos tells her.
Carlos has wanted to share the truth about Evie for as long as he could remember. From the day he had found Evie at their meeting spot in the forest, alone and sobbing on the cold dirty ground, Carlos felt the urge to run to someone and get help. His friend was hurt and he didn't know to help her himself. But this was the Isle and help didn't exist. He couldn't go to a parent or a teacher, they were the ones doing the hurting, and he, Mal and Jay hadn't yet formed their gang.
For years Carlos struggled with being the sole bearer of Evie's secret. He wanted to do more than just know the truth, he wanted to put an end to Evie's pain and take her away from the Evil Queen for good. But, be it due to loyalty or timidness, Carlos never could make the move on his own. He couldn't risk betraying Evie's trust if he wasn't certain it would lead to her safety, he was all she had. So when he picked up on the poorly concealed concern on Mal's face yesterday and noted how Jay's eyebrow arched with interest at the mention of Evie's name, Carlos decided it was finally time to ask for help, or at the very least invite the possibility of help into his and Evie's secret.
"Carlos, I wrote slut on her locker," Mal whispers, sounding horrified with herself. "I basically accused her of fucking every student and teacher in school, including you."
Carlos blushes at the thought of him and Evie. "You didn't know."
"And Gaston? Gods. I knew that guy was a creep," Mal continues guiltily. "Why didn't you tell me that's why you wanted me to go to P.E. with Evie?" Mal's head burns with regret when she thinks back on the crude comments she made to Evie about the Physical Education teacher.
"What was I supposed to say?" Carlos asks with a half-hearted shrug. "Hey Mal, do you mind keeping an eye on the new girl you hate in P.E. because our teacher is a creep who pays her mom to have sex with her?" he deadpans. "Evie didn't want anyone to know."
"How long has this been going on?" Mal demands between breaths. "How many men—
Carlos cuts her off with a soft shake of his head. "I can't answer that. If Evie wants you to know the details, she'll tell you."
Mal frowns and stares down at her chewed-up nails. "I don't think Evie is ever going to speak to me again."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Carlos answers, thinking back to his conversation with Evie in the bathroom the night before.
As soon as he had gotten Evie cleaned up and changed into warm clothes, she took him to task for bringing Mal to her castle and demanded to know why Carlos would do something so reckless. Carlos didn't blame Evie for being upset or suspicious of Mal's intentions, but he did his best to assure her that Mal was not a threat and told her he truly believed Mal's interest in tagging alone stemmed from genuine concern. He stopped short of flat out telling Evie that Mal likely has a crush on her and was most likely acting out previously because she's much too obtuse to handle her own unfamiliar feelings, but he did share his suspicion that Mal still cares about her as a friend. Evie seemed to soften towards the other girl after hearing that and Carlos felt immediate relief in knowing Evie wasn't going to stay mad at him. He's also pretty hopeful he won't have to deal with Mal's cranky attitude towards Evie any longer.
But Carlos could only do so much, Mal will have to get her head out of her ass and take the next step on her own—whenever she's ready.
He eats his breakfast slowly and watches as Mal continues to pick at her nails. He's almost pleased to find the girl looking so anxious and rattled, because a Mal on the edge means a Mal in action, and he needs Mal to take action and do what he couldn't for Evie.
Carlos tears a piece from his bread to offer to Mal and she accepts easily. The pair eat their breakfast in silence until rustling is heard from behind them.
Mal whips her head around to see a groggy Evie emerge from her own room. She stops herself from jumping up and rushing over to her like an enamored school girl and instead offers an awkward half-wave, which she immediately regrets.
"Hey," Mal croaks in greeting. "You sleep okay?"
Evie nods, caught off-guard by Mal's enthusiastic interest, and covers a yawn with the back of her hand. "Yes. Thank you for giving me your bed for the night."
Mal wants to say "you're welcome" or something equally proper and polite, but instead she just shrugs and turns around, unsure why her throat is dry and her cheeks feel warm.
"Want some breakfast?" Carlos asks, already climbing over the back of the couch to scrounge up some food for Evie.
Evie tilts her head slightly and offers him a small but genuine smile of appreciation. Her posture is stiff and when she stretches on the ends of her toes, she winces and turns her head to hide her grimace. She shakes off Carlos's offer. "I should really get going."
"Going?" Mal questions, not missing the tense look on Evie's face when she moves. "You're not going home, are you?"
"Of course I am. It's morning," Evie answers. Waking up in Mal's bed had felt like some weird fever dream, or nightmare, but when Evie attempted to sit up and toss her legs over the side of the bed, the reality of the previous night smacked her right in her bruised ribs.
She had allowed Mal to play hero last night because every princess needs a hero on occasion, but the break of a new day brings a renewed sense of clarity. Last night, her mind had been clouded with dread and her body worn down from days of abuse and neglect. She was hungry and weak and Jasper's impending arrival had her empty stomach churning with well-known terror. So she yielded to Mal's plan and allowed herself to be swept up in Jay's arms to placate a well-intentioned Carlos. A dramatic late-night rescue was everything six-year-old Evie could have dreamed of, but Evie no longer believes in fairytales. There's no happy ending in sight for this princess and she knows she'll inevitably suffer the consequences of her childish short-sightedness.
Her sudden disappearance during a scheduled appointment would be taken as a show of disrespect by her mother, not to mention the loss of money. The Evil Queen does not take kindly to being slighted. Her punishment will be ample and hearty, Evie knows this, but she's cautiously hopeful her return in time for tonight's appointments will stave off anything too severe. If she can escape this ordeal without any permeant physical damage she'll consider herself lucky.
"Evie, no, you can't go home!" Carlos cries, eyes wide and pleading.
The sound of a bed creaking followed by feet hitting the floor interrupts the conversation. Jay rolls out of bed and strolls into the room wearing only a par of pajama pants and immediately makes his way over to the ice box in search of food.
"Stay. We can all skip school and hang out," Jay chimes in. He grabs an off brand box of cereal and settles down onto the couch next to Mal.
Evie shakes her head at the shirtless boy. "Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that."
"Trust me, Princess. No one here minds skipping school," Jay says around a mouthful of dry cereal. "Hang out for a while."
"Evie, you can't go back," Mal insists, scrambling to her feet and rounding the couch so that she's facing the other girl.
Evie presses her lips together, her reluctance to disappoint the group after they went out on a limb to help her chipping away at her resolve. "I'll be fine," she tries to assure the others.
She pushes on before any objections can be raised, "Thank you again for letting me crash here for the night. And for the clothes." She pulls at the hem of Jay's much too large t-shirt, which she's still wearing because she'd really rather not walk home in her nightgown. "I'll be sure to get these back to you as soon as I can."
"No!" Carlos says decidedly. "You're here, you're safe, you're not going back there."
Evie forces another smile in an attempt to calm the agitated boy. "I appreciate the hospitality, my body definitely needed the break, but what'd you really think was going to happen?" she asks the three sets of eyes staring back at her. "I move in here permanently and never leave so my mother can't find me? What kind of life is that?"
"What kind of life is being beaten, starved and raped on a regular basis!" Mal demands.
Evie's eyes flash with shock and hurt, her head whirling around to find Mal. "Mine," she growls out boldly.
"Shit—Evie, I'm sorry." Mal is quick to apologize. The impulse is so strong she doesn't even have time to lament the fact that Evie has now managed to coax multiple apologies out of her. Something about Evie's eyes just makes uttering that dreaded 5 letter word so easy for the purple-haired girl.
Mal's not wrong, Evie knows her life is far from ideal but it's her life and she's not going to explain the peculiars of her situation to some girl who, up until last night, was determined to further destroy that life.
"Forget it. I have to go," Evie sighs, her anger leaving just as quickly as it came on.
Mal takes an impulsive step forward, her mind just barely stopping her hand from reaching out to grab onto Evie's arm. She flexes her eager fingers and plasters her arms against sides so she doesn't do anything stupid. "Evie, wait. Please don't go back there."
Mal can count on one hand the number of times she's used the word "please" and meant it, but Evie has a way of making her do and say the unlikely.
"Please stay," Carlos urges, his big dark eyes full of so much hope and earnestness that it physically pains Evie to have to disappoint him. "We'll get you your own bed and whatever else you need."
Evie smiles sadly at the offer. She loves Carlos for wanting this for her, but she knows it's unattainable. Her mother's reach is far too wide to escape.
Jay joins in from his spot on the couch. "Come on, Princess. It's not a castle but you'll be safe here."
"Why do you guys have this place?" Evie asks suddenly. If her ribs weren't currently throbbing in pain, she'd likely cock her hip to one side to express her frustration with being ganged up on by the three of them. But all she can do now is glare and purse her cracked lips.
"To hide when we need a break. It's a hideout," Jay says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"But you don't live here. You still go home to your parents," Evie points out.
"It's different," Jay mutters, turning his attention back to his cereal.
Dysfunction and abuse are staples of life at home for most Isle kids, but what happens at Evie's castle is vile and perverse and thinking about it makes Jay's skin crawl. He's been angry at his and his friend's mistreatment in the past—-hearing Maleficent berate Mal in public made Jay's jaw tighten and his fists clench, and seeing Carlos come to school with dark bags under his eyes and scratches on his face had Jay seeing red on multiple occasions, and of course, Jay has ached to pick himself up off his father's shop floor and pummel the man who beat him. But their parents are powerful villains, even if only in name now, and no matter how hotly his rage burns at their abuse, Jay knows he'd never be able to take on Maleficent, Cruella or Jafar and be victorious. Not yet anyway.
So he, Mal and Carlos found the hideout some years back and escape to it whenever Jafar is in a particularly foul mood, or when Maleficent's taunts become too much to bear, or when Cruella's nagging drags on with no end in sight. This place has been their refuge for years but Evie's right, they do return home after the bruises heal and the righteous adolescent thirst for revenge subsides.
But the thought of Evie returning to her castle of horrors feels different, wrong on a multitude of levels Jay can't begin to understand or explain. He has no thoughtful response or clever comeback to Evie's question, all he has is an undeniable feeling of foreboding in his gut.
"I got my break and I'm thankful but now it's time to go home," Evie says with all the faux confidence and poise she can manage. She pauses to smooth out the wrinkles in Jay's oversized torn-up t-shirt as if it's an evening gown and she's off to a ball. "Mother's not going to be pleased I left and weekends are usually pretty busy," she trails off, eyes finding the floor for a moment. "Plus I'd rather get my punishment over with sooner than later."
"Evie, you can't—" Carlos starts to plead but Mal cuts him off with a gentle plea of her own.
"Please don't, E."
Evie pauses at Mal's use of the old childhood nickname she hasn't heard Mal utter in years. With her lip pulled between her teeth, Evie studies the purple-haired girl thoughtfully, her anguished wretched expression reminding Evie of the little girl who clutched her hand and cowered under a market table as Maleficent blustered and bellowed through the bazar a decade ago.
"Why? Why is it any different for me than it is for you?" Evie demands, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. "I know for a fact your own parents hurt you. I've heard the stories. I've seen the bruises. It's just the way things are around here. So why is it any different for me?"
"It just is," Mal answers softly. She watches Evie worry her lip and can't help but wonder if the cut in the center hurts when Evie pulls it between her teeth—-and would it hurt if Mal grabbed her face between her hands and kissed her.
"Because I'm just some prissy princess wannabe? Because you think I'm so much weaker than you!" Evie cries, wielding an accusing hand and stomping her foot. The sharp movement sends a stab of pain shooting through her side and Evie grits her teeth as tears prick at her eyes—the price she pays for her petulance, she thinks.
"Because I think you're better than me!" Mal shouts back, matching Evie's heightened emotion. Evie staggers back slightly in surprise and Mal takes a breath, stepping forward and softening her expression as she stares directly into Evie's watery eyes. "You always have been, E, even when we were little kids and you stood up to my mother in the market. Evie, you're so much better than this place," Mal professes, reaching out without fear or pretense and grasping Evie's hand in her own. "You don't deserve what happens to you."
Evie falters at the sincerity she hears in Mal's voice, the tension in her body dissipating at the sight of sympathetic green eyes. "Neither do you. Any of you," she whispers with a small sniffle. Her eyes sweep the apartment, finding the concerned faces of Carlos and Jay staring back at her, pleading with her, making her squirm uncomfortably under the weight of their expectations.
"Besides," Evie continues, straightening her shoulders and shaking her tears away. She forces a smile to her lips and hopes the others can't sense the sinking in her chest as she dons her personal armor and peddles untruths in a desperate attempt to remain in control, "My mom cares in her own way. She just wants to help me land my prince and live happily ever after like I've always dreamed." It's been a while since she's tried to sell that particular lie and the words burn at her throat like acid, the taste on her tongue foul and unforgiving.
"Have you actually dreamed about marrying a prince?" Carlos questions. "Or is that your mother's dream?"
The question catches Evie off guard and for a moment she forgets Mal is holding onto her hand until she feels a firm squeeze against her fingers. She lifts her eyes to meet the girl's heated gaze and blinks at the caring expression she finds.
Her head spins as she drinks in the pity on the faces of her companions. That look is hard enough to stomach from Carlos, but now she has to take it from Mal and Jay too. Her cheeks flush with thinly veiled rage and she clamps down the urge to scream. How dare they pry into her life! They have no idea what it takes to live her life; they can't begin to comprehend the parts of herself she's had to tuck away or kill off to survive.
"Come on, Evie, you can make all the excuses for your mother you want, but you don't actually think that evil bitch cares about you, do you?" Mal asks, her eyes turning a deeper shade of green at the mention of the Evil Queen.
Evie glowers at the question. So she tells herself a few lies to get by, smiles when she feels like sobbing, shrouds herself in denial and shuts out the voices crying out to be heard inside her head— it's all part of the twisted game she's been forced to play and she excels at that game. Mal, Jay and Carlos may be more adept at surviving on the streets of the Isle, but they wouldn't last a day in her mother's castle. That's a unique set of skills specific to Evie and Evie alone and she doesn't need pity or saving from people who have no idea what it's like to have to teeter between disillusion and denial just to get by.
"Of course! She's my mother!" Evie insists, yanking her hand from Mal's and crossing her arms over her chest.
Jay tosses his box of cereal aside and turns his body to call out from over the back of the couch. "So Jarfar is my father but that doesn't stop him from treating me like human trash."
"And I'm more of a servant than a son in my mom's eyes," Carlos adds.
Evie shakes her head and brings her fingertips to her temples as she takes a step back from this conversation she can't seem to control. She shouldn't even be here right now—talk like this is no use to her and she'll only suffer further as a result. She refuses to entertain this foolish notion of running away, not when she knows what's at stake. She's not like Mal or the boys, she can't just run from her problems and live off the Isle. Not when her mother has pawns in every corner of the Isle—pawns she gained by offering Evie's body for the taking. If her mother doesn't find her and drag her home herself, those men will and they'll be sure to collect their payment up front. Her mother's castle may be a prison but it's a familiar prison, and Evie knows she'll never truly be free on the Isle.
"It's different. My mother's methods are unconventional perhaps, but her intentions are good. She loves me," Evie persists in her attempt at de-escalation. She's always prided herself on her ability to minimize the damage and forge on in the face of unspeakable horrors, but she can feel her tenuous grasp on the situation loosening. And despite her best attempts to appear calm and self-assured, her voice wavers and chills rush through her body at the thought—-she's not that naive, she knows the truth, but gods, how she wishes her mother did love her.
"Evie, she sends men to your room to rape you."
Evie bristles at Mal's blunt words. She's used to Carlos's delicate dancing around the truth, not Mal's brash assertions.
"To train me," Evie corrects stiffly. "For when I marry a prince. So I'll know how to please my future husband." Her cheeks burn with shame at the indecent explanation. She knows her reasoning is flimsy at best and her argument is rapidly falling apart, but she's been in denial of the truth for so long now and she has no intention of facing reality in front of Mal or Jay.
"Aren't princesses supposed to be pure?" Jay asks, one eye cocked as he leans over the sofa to stare in Evie's direction.
Evie draws back as if she's been slapped and Carlos nearly lunges at the boy for his insensitivity.
"Jay! What the hell, man?"
"What do you think your precious prince will think when he finds out you've been sold to half the men on the Isle?" Jay continues with a scowl, paying no mind to Carlos's admonishment.
Evie's not used to seeing the boy look so cross and she can't help but shrink back a bit when he raises his voice and points an indignant finger at her. Her mouth drops open as she flounders for a comeback but Jay continues his tirade before she can form a single coherent word.
"No! Evie this is bullshit! Your mother doesn't love you! No one who loves you can do that to you!" he rages.
"You want to know what makes you different from the rest of us?" Mal jumps in, drawing Evie's attention back to her. "We know our parents don't give a shit about us...but you actually think that witch loves you and that's what makes it so much worse."
"She just wants me to be prepared!" Evie insists, her head swimming from the intense exchange. That's what her mother had told her years ago when she brought the first of many men to her doorway.
It pays to be prepared, child. Practice makes perfect.
So you'll know what men really want.
Experience is the best teacher, my dear.
Evie has desperately wanted to believe her mother had a reason for subjecting her to such pain, but she didn't believe it then and she doesn't believe it now. But Jay is just so angry and Mal's eyes are practically sparkling with concern and Carlos looks like he's about to cry—and what else is there to say? How is she supposed to explain what goes on behind her castle walls to them when she still can't comprehend it herself.
"She wants to hurt you! Those men aren't there to prepare you! They're there to use you to get off in exchange for a few bucks and whatever dumb trinkets your mother desires! She's selling you to them for her own selfish gains and if you think that's love then you're as stupid as you look!" Mal cries, her fists balled at her sides as she huffs and glares at a stunned Evie.
"That's enough!" Carlos cuts in. "Just stop. Leave her alone."
Evie stares down at her feet, grateful for Carlos's interference but too worn down to do anything other than mutter a quiet "I'm going to go now" before heading towards the door.
