Hey guys! Hope this isn't too late of an update for you, as it's midnight where I am now. I just finished the chapter and thought, well now would be a good time to go to bed, and I can post this tomorrow. And then I thought, well technically it is tomorrow, and why waste a good opportunity? So, here it is! :)

To my reviews! (There's a lot so feel free to skip to my Author's Note.)

Guest1: I'm glad you're enjoying, here's the update!

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anonimo: Me alegro de que estés disfrutando esto tanto! Aquí hay otro capítulo para usted.

Guest2: Thank you for the review! Here's the latest chapter.

jordynhanna2005: I am following the movie canon for this story, so no, Mal and Carlos won't be couple in this. Sorry to dissapoint. But I hope you'll continue reading despite that!

Guest3: I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much! And don't worry, I'll be getting into the backstory for all of the VKs, so keep reading!

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Whew! Ok, onto the Notes!

Again, to my remaining Guests, make sure to leave some kind of nickname. It feels so insensitive just calling you Guest. :)

Author's Note, this chapter contains a cameo/callback to a teacher character in another Disney movie. I left some clues for you to figure it out (though the teacher's name may be a giveaway with Google). I look forward to your guesses! ;)

Author's Note 2, POV shift! The horizontal line halfway through is for a time skip, though I made sure to still include the POV to make it clear.

Author's Note 3, Warnings as this chapter contains: Language. Mild abuse by a teacher towards a student. Mild violence and bullying. A brief scientific lesson. Also more signing, so yay! LANGUAGE! Reader discretion is advised.

(And forgive any typos or grammar as again, it is well after midnight.) Thanks!

- Raven

Kropp

Benjamin R. Kropp liked to consider himself a patient man. Teaching a school full of junior Princes, Princesses, warriors, and other nobility and hero types did require a certain temperament; and, after all, it was in his blood. His father, Bernie Kropp, had once been teacher to a certain blond haired youth that had been notorious for his trouble making skills; somehow managing to get a tack on his father's chair without being caught. And on camera, too! It was a tale passed throughout the family, even to this day, as a reminder to always be watchful, and to never lose control. It gave the students the upper hand.

He was pleased to say that none of his students had managed to give him any cause to worry, although he made certain to run his classroom strictly and efficiently to keep it that way. They had all been raised right, his students, and he had yet to lose his temper.

And so, when Prince Ben had announced that he was allowing villains to attend Auradon Prep, well, he had to admit he had been more than shocked. It didn't matter to him if they were children, they were still inherently evil. He was even further appalled when he'd learned that he would be expected to teach them, as well. The thought of it! Villains, in his class!

But he could not disrespect the young Prince by refusing, and so it is that he finds himself standing at the front of his classroom eyeing each student nervously as they enter and trying to pick them out from the crowd. Only two of the four the Prince had chosen would be attending his class, he'd been assured: the son of Jafar, and the son of Cruella de Vil. Not much of a reassurance, he thinks. Considering their heritage. And the de Vil boy, in particular…he would need to watch out for.

The remainder of his students shuffle in just as the final bell rings, but before the door can fully shut it's slammed open again, and two teenaged boys stumble into the room. He needn't have worried so much about finding them in a crowd. Even despite their late entrance, it is quite obvious who they are.

They have a wild, shifty look in their dark eyes, for one. And, for another, they aren't wearing uniforms. The son of Jafar is clad in loose dark jeans, chains dangling from the pockets, his black combat style boots so very different from the polished dress shoes of his peers. His shirt is a faded red with no sleeves, and is covered by a leather jacket in varying shades of red and gold. The de Vil boy is wearing dark pants that are cut halfway up the leg with white stripes, and his shirt is black, covered with a leather jacket that is black on one side and white on the other, and when the boy turns around Kropp can see that the entire back of it is red, and lined with fur.

He frowns at the attire, certain that they had been given uniforms to wear. He makes a note to address them about it, and then clears his throat, drawing the class' attention to him.

"Thank you for deciding to join us, gentlemen," he says stiffly. "If you would be so kind as to take your seats, so we may begin class?"

Kropp notices that while Jafar's son comes to some sort of attention and nods at his words, the de Vil boy stiffens and looks away, as though he couldn't be bothered to pay attention. Yes, he would need to keep a very close eye on him, indeed.

Jay

It was Carlos' idea, the race to class. The first warning bell had just rung above them, and they're forced to duck into a side alcove to avoid the throngs of rushing princes and princesses. Jay wants nothing more than to take every advantage of the situation that he can, eyeing each colorful purse enviously as they pass just within his reach. But then Carlos loops his fingers through the chain on Jay's belt, effectively using him as a shield against the masses, and by the time the throng diminishes and the grip on his belt loosens, he's lost his chance of stealing anything.

"Alright, Ben," he mutters, scanning the emptying halls warily. "Any day now."

He feels Carlos tap his shoulder, and he swats at the other boy with blind irritation. Granted, it isn't Carlos' fault; while Jay and crowds generally mixed well, Carlos and crowds…well, Jay was his shield for a reason.

"W-we-we-we're going to be late," Carlos whispers in his ear, tugging at his jacket.

"Yeah, well, Ben's not here yet," Jay grumbles back, crossing his arms and stepping out of the smaller boy's reach. "We don't even know which way we're supposed to go."

Not that he really cares about making it to class. But the plan did involve fitting in, and it would be hard to do that if they weren't even there.

"Armor?" Carlos says, and he turns around to see the other boy standing in front of a suit of armor, poking carefully at its breastplate.

Oh yeah. Ben had mentioned something about that.

"Let me," Jay demands, shoving Carlos aside and rapping at the metal suit with his fist. "Hey, uh, armor dude," he says.

'Armor Dude?' Carlos silently mocks beside him, but he ignores it and continues.

"Any chance you…know the way to biology?"

The suit's visor on the helmet lifts, and a hollow, tinny voice rings out. "The Biology classroom is located on the second floor. Proceed down your current hallway to the left and take the stairs to the second floor. The classroom will be the third door down on your right."

Then the helmet slams closed, and the second bell begins to ring resolutely above them. Carlos glances at him, shuffling his feet, and Jay glances back down the empty hall to the room they had come from. Still no Ben. Class had started and they were most likely already late.

"Ok then," Jay decides.

"W-we're going?" Carlos asks softly.

"Might as well, right?" Jay says with a shrug, and Carlos' face breaks into a sly grin.

"Rrace you," he cries in a low voice, and before Jay can even blink, he takes off down the hallway.

"Carlos!" Jay calls after him, but he receives a laugh in response, and he growls a curse under his breath before sprinting after him.

It's not much of a race, really. Jay has the longer legs, and a better sense of direction, and while Carlos can be fast, Jay has endurance. By the time they reach the stairs, Carlos has fallen behind, and Jay easily jogs the rest of the way up the staircase. He pauses at the top, noticing that this hallways is much more crowded than the one below.

Students are still milling about, some of them even entering the classroom they had been looking for. Carlos huffs his way to the top of the stairs, and Jay dashes over, grabbing him before he could try and speak. Carlos yelps in protest, but Jay points to the bustling hall and he pales, nodding as he falls silent.

"Hurry up and catch your breath," Jay warns, nodding towards the door that's just beginning to swing shut.

Carlos straightens quickly, drawing a few slow breaths before nodding, and they rush through the doors only a couple minutes behind the last rush of students. The classroom is smaller than the Goodness room had been, but still spacious enough to hold twenty or so students; all organized in metal rows of desks and chairs, with the entire right wall comprised mostly of large windows.

Jay instantly notes that the only other exit aside from the door they'd entered through is a door beside the teacher's desk at the front of the room. The teacher, Jay also notes, who is glaring at them like they're a particularly disgusting stain he'd scraped from the bottom of his shoe.

"Thank you for deciding to join us gentlemen," the teacher announces, but he says 'gentlemen' like it's the worst insult he can think of. "If you would be so kind as to take your seats, so we may begin class?"

Kind, Jay thinks to himself. Really? But he realizes that the entire class is looking at them, and he knows that disdainful look the teacher is giving them. He straightens as respectfully as he can and nods, grabbing Carlos' wrist and leading him to the only two empty seats, as the other boy had lowered his gaze the moment the teacher had started speaking.

Their seats are in the middle of the classroom, but all the way to the right by the windows. It wouldn't have been a problem if it weren't for the fact that the desks are like metal prison boxes, and shoved so closely to the wall that there's almost no hope of making a quick getaway in either direction. He looks up at the teacher, and can tell by the satisfied look on the man's face that it had been an intentional move, and Jay has to fight to keep from scowling back. So he was one of those teachers? Well there had been plenty of teachers like him on the Isle, Jay knew how to deal with teachers like this.

"Thank you," the man says stiffly. "My name is Mr. Kropp," he introduces himself, pointing to the whiteboard on the wall behind him, where his name and brief lesson plan is written in blue. "And let me assure you all right now, I will not tolerate any kind of shenanigans or hijinks in my classroom."

Carlos chuckles quietly beside him, and even Jay feels his lips twitch at the man's choice of words. Did he not realize how ridiculous it made him sound?

"Which means," Mr. Kropp snaps shortly. "Carlos."

Jay stiffens, and Carlos flinches, head firmly lowered and eyes glued to the desk.

"It is my understanding that you do not talk. Now, I must know, is it simply due to a lack of capability, or a lack of will?"

Jay clenches his hands into fists under the table, eyes narrow as he glares at the man. He did not just say that! Carlos is shaking, and Jay can't tell if it's anger or fear as he writes in his notepad before displaying it to the teacher; and the rest of the class.

I'm not lazy, Sir.

Jay smirks to himself at the particular way Carlos had underlined the word 'sir.' Who said you can't be sarcastic in writing? Mr. Kropp (what kind of name was that, anyway) narrows his eyes at them as though he'd read into the sarcasm as well, and Jay quickly wipes his face into a neutral expression.

"Well, then Mr. de Vil," the teacher responds coldly. "I will expect you to participate in class, is that understood?"

Jay has to fight to keep from leaping to his feet, anger churning through him as Carlos pales considerably, his hands shaking as he writes on his pad.

Sir, Fairy Godmother had said that I would be allowed to sign in class.

"Yes, well, I am not the Fairy Godmother," Mr. Kropp sniffs, and Jay's hands tremble in fists beneath the table. "And in my class, I expect full participation from all of my students. I will not coddle you, as I've no doubt you are used to…"

Jay feels a shock go through his body, and Carlos jerks, as though he'd been struck. He's blinking hard, and Jay is struggling with every fiber of his being to not snap and break something.

"…I will make no special accommodations," Mr. Kropp finishes, glaring firmly at Carlos. "Is that understood, Mr. de Vil?"

The entire class is staring now, and Jay can see varying emotions reflected on their faces. Some share the same smug disdain as the teacher, while others look curious, though the majority is something close to disgust and fear.

Jay looks to Carlos and sees that his leg his bouncing up and down, the heel of his sneaker clicking silently against the leg of his chair. One of many nervous tics the boy had acquired over time, and a sure warning sign to just how badly he would stutter when he finally opened his mouth. Jay tries to catch his attention, to calm him down, but Carlos was already slipping.

"Is that understood?" the teacher repeats, and Jay shoots the man a glare full of undisguised hatred.

Carlos nods shakily beside him, swallowing hard as he tries to work his mouth to speak. Jay feels his breath catch in his throat, silently pleading for the words to come out right. 'Come on, Carlos,' he thinks encouragingly. 'Deep breaths. Breathe. Focus.'

"Ye-" Carlos falters, catches himself, and then tries again, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes Ssir."

Jay breathes a slow breath of relief, but Carlos is still pale, his chin practically tucked to his chest as he waits. Jay knows what he's waiting for, and he looks to the teacher, desperately hoping that the slip wasn't as noticeable as he feared. Clearly it wasn't, because the man simply nods once, and turns back to the board, adding some notes to the ones already written.

The rest of the class settles, turning back to face the front of the room, but Jay notices that one; a pretty Chinese girl that he would definitely flirt with under different circumstances, is still staring at them, a weird look on her face. Jay glares challengingly back at her, and she looks away quickly, pulling a notebook with cherry blossoms decorating the cover from her bag.

Carlos slumps in his chair beside him, and Jay nudges him discreetly, glancing over worriedly. Carlos barely raises his head enough to meet Jay's eyes, but he can still see the panic echoing there, and Jay subtly signs; making 'five' shapes with both of his hands, pressing them to his chest with one just above the other; lifting them away from his body in an expanding motion before bringing them back against his chest.

[Breathe.]

"It's ok," Jay whispers to him. "It'll be ok."

Carlos just shakes his head, staring miserably at the textbook on the desk in front of him. His foot is still anxiously tapping against his chair, and it would have been annoying if Jay wasn't so worried. Not. That he'd ever admit that.

"Now that we're all settled," Mr. Kropp announces from the front of the room. "I'd like you all to turn to Section Five of your textbooks; page 394. We will begin with a simple introduction of genetics."

Simple, Jay thought incredulously. The very first thing he was met with when he turned to page 394 was a complicated looking diagram, detailing the process of reproduction and just how to determine which traits were passed from parent to offspring. He hopes Carlos can decipher it, because he can't for the life of him figure it out.

"What you see before you is a Punnett square diagram," Mr. Kropp intones from the front of the room. Jay looks up to see that the teacher has drawn another version of the diagram on the whiteboard, though this one is blank.

"This diagram was created by a man named Reginald Punnett," Mr. Kropp continues. "Developed from a theory created by a man named Mendal; detailing the concept of Mendelian Inheritance."

And…Jay is officially lost. He stares dully out the windows, envying the students he can see milling about on the lawns and in the gardens outside. He almost wishes he was back on the Isle. Despite the harsh life and the cruelties of the world, it was a world he could make sense of. He doesn't belong here, surrounded by perfect princes and princesses in training, learning about genetics and inheritance.

He watches Carlos scratching out notes in his book, his nerves still acting up and making his hand jerk minutely as he writes. Jay watches the frustration grow on Carlos' face with mild amusement, and he perks up, a slow smile spreading on his face as he gets an idea. He leans over casually, his elbow lined up with Carlos' arm, and just when he starts to write, Jay knocks into him; causing Carlos to jerk, the point of his pencil snapping audibly as a thick dark line smears across the page.

"Jay!" Carlos cries angrily, and Jay is too busy attempting to conceal his laughter to notice the sudden silence in the classroom.

"Is there a problem, Mr. de Vil?" Mr. Kropp asks, and both boys straighten, wiping their faces into blank masks.

"N-n-n-o Sir," Carlos mutters, flushing as the 'n' sticks in his throat. Jay grimaces, regretting his prank instantly as he watches the teacher's eyes narrow.

"Really?" he says, skeptically. "Then perhaps you would like to share your thoughts with the class. Based on the theories that Mendel and the Punnett square illustrate, what is the likelihood that such things also apply to certain characteristics between parent and offspring?"

"Ssir?" Carlos asks, his voice a squeak above a whisper.

"For example," the teacher clarifies, and there's a certain gleam in his eyes that had Jay on edge, watching carefully as he speaks. "The odds of a child being inherently good, or inherently evil, based solely on their parentage."

There it was. Jay had known there was something about this teacher, but he was surprised at the level of hatred and disdain the man seemed to be radiating. It was almost impressive, really, considering that Auradon was supposedly so open and friendly. But Carlos is far from impressed, and Jay tries to sign again, to let him know that it was ok. Carlos stands slowly, his hands fidgeting with the chain links attached to his dog tail, eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.

"I think, wh-whi-whi-while it's possible for someone to be ggood or bbad based on ge-gennnetics, wh-who they are as a p-erson is decided by them."

Jay clenches and unclenches his hands slowly under the table, trying to take deep breaths as scattered laughter and snickering goes up from the class. Carlos flushes and tries to take his seat again, but Mr. Kropp holds up a hand, silencing the class and pausing Carlos in his tracks.

"Would you care to clarify on that?" The man questions, adjusting his wire framed glasses minutely. "Preferably without the added sound effects."

Another small scattering of laughter meets this suggestion, but Jay is grim and frowning, biting the inside of his cheek as he watches Carlos attempt to keep his words in check.

"Science can't deter-determine wh-o someone is," Carlos says slowly, each word tight as he struggles to keep control. "They may be predi-predis... more inclined towards something based on genetics, bu-bu-but I don't think it's fair to pin something so-olely on that."

He sits down quickly when he finishes, drawing a shaky breath and doing a better job than Jay at ignoring the chuckling and whispers that his choppy speech brings. The teacher frowns, though Jay hadn't seen him do anything other than frown since they had entered the classroom.

"Thank you, Mr. de Vil," the man drawls slowly. "For that interesting view point. However, I do not appreciate the mockery; any further disruptions will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes narrow pointedly.

Carlos nods, his gaze once more glued to his book, but there's a hard set to his jaw, seeming to cast a shadow across his entire face. Jay knows that look; it's the look that earned Carlos the reputation as "callous" back on the Isle. It's that look he gets when betraying his true emotions or feelings would get him killed. They all have their own versions of that look, but Carlos in particular had mastered it especially well, and it was down right chilling if you didn't know any better.

The teacher notices the look on his face and raises an eyebrow, as though he were the innocent one, while Jay seethes silently, wishing he had a pencil or something that could break in his hands right now.

"Is there a problem?" Mr. Kropp asks, and Jay fights to keep his words level, and free of curses as he answers.

"No Sir," he says stiffly.

"Then shall we continue with the rest of the lesson? Unless there is something you wanted to add?" Mr. Kropp glances at them expectantly, and Jay shakes his head once sharply.

"No Sir," he repeats.

"Carlos?"

Jay sees Carlos start to shake his head, but then the look on his face shifts, hardening even further, and Jay braces himself as he begins to speak.

"It's not exa-exactly something I can control, Sssir," Carlos says quietly, and the whole class in on edge at his tone; respectful, but low and intense.

"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Kropp has his own tone, and Jay grimaces.

Well, fuck.

"I hhhave a st-stu-stutter," Carlos explains tightly, his eyes flickering briefly as he slips before regaining their hard cast. "I-I-I'm not being disrrrespectful; my brain's just re-refusing to cooperate. I can't cont-rol it."

Jay sees genuine surprise reflecting in some of the students' faces, but still others adopt a sly sort of sneer, or else continue to stare in disdain; as though they still hate the villain, even if he can't talk right. Mr. Kropp, however, has a steely look in his eyes, and Jay grits his jaw nervously. It's that look of a teacher who doesn't care what sort of problems his students have, he'll have order, without question.

"Well, Mr. de Vil," he says, and Jay sees the shiver pass though Carlos' body, stealing his defenses with it. "I suggest you find a way to make your brain cooperate. I will not have the rest of my students suffer due to your lack of control, and I will not cater to the whims of a villain."

Jay and Carlos both flinch, the smaller boy a shell threatening to shatter under the force of the teacher's words. The class is deathly still; a collective breath waiting to be released.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Carlos whispers shakily, and there's a smug sort of satisfaction that crosses the teacher's face before he resumes his previous position.

"Now then, let's continue with the Three Laws of Mendel's Inheritance theory..."

Well fuck.

Jay

The bell couldn't have run fast enough, and Jay is certain the rest of the class feels that way as well, as everyone lurches to their feet and scrambles desperately to get their things together. Jay slips smoothly from his chair, but he hovers, leaning easily against the metal desk and waiting for Carlos. The other boy is quiet, and his 'callous' look is back, but his eyes shine with emotion, and Jay knows the minute they reach their room that he's going to retreat again.

"You ok?" he mutters as they finally leave the classroom, following the herd of students outside and onto the sprawling green lawns.

"Perfect," Carlos bites back, but he's not looking at Jay. He's staring anxiously across the yard to a section of picnic benches, where a small crowd is obviously waiting.

Jay scans the surrounding area, and realizes that there's no going around them, only through them. He frowns, his eyes narrowing in displeasure as he counts the crowd. "We can always go back," he suggests.

"Weak," Carlos mumbles, and Jay scowls.

"It's not weak; it's self preservation."

Carlos scoffs bitterly, and Jay knows he'd read through the lie. Jay would do just fine in a confrontation, and in the fight that would surely follow. Carlos was the real thing to being protected, and they both knew it.

"Dorms are pa-past them, an-an-anyway," Carlos grumbles, and Jay nods in grim resignation as he realizes it's true.

"What do you want to do then?" he asks, turning to face the other boy, and Carlos hesitates before signing; tapping his chin twice with a 'four' hand shape; then touching his forehead with his index finger, swinging the tip of his finger forward; finishing with a point to himself.

[Talk for me.]

"You sure?" he starts to ask, but Carlos is already striding across the lawn, and Jay shakes his head. "Fucking shit."

He quickly overtakes Carlos' shorter strides, but lets the other boy take the lead. Most of the students part and stumble out of their way, but there are those who close in further, staring in either curiosity or disdain. And the whispering doesn't stop; Jay glares each time he catches a sound, but the silence only lasts a few moments before the comments return. Carlos, for his part, does better at remaining unaffected. Until a certain smaller group of students breaks from the crowd, snickering as they block their way.

Jay instantly tenses, hands clenching into fists, but Carlos remains calm, staring coolly up at a boy with sandy brown hair, grey eyes, and sharp features that would have been handsome if it weren't for the sneer twisting his face. One of the boys in his group slams roughly into Carlos' shoulder, knocking the newly acquired textbooks from his hands, and spilling his bag across the lawn.

"Oops," the boy says, and the handsome kid moves forward, stooping to pick up the books. His actions are polite, but the look on his face is anything but; a mocking imitation of concern as he straightens and looks at Carlos.

"Oh, I'm suh-suh-sorry," he taunts, exaggerating as he mocks Carlos. "He just can't cuh-cuh-control himself."

Jay growls, and stalks forward, but Carlos is signing; his brows lifted in genuine concern as he points to the boy; then he brings his left palm up and taps it twice in a 'chopping' sort of motion against his right palm.

[You alright?]

"What?" the boy snaps, sneering further. Jay quickly translates, searching Carlos' face for an explanation as he speaks.

"He wants to know if you're alright," he explains, watching as Carlos signs again; pointing at the boy before tapping his ear twice; then bringing his fingers in a flat sort of cupping motion, he taps against his throat.

Jay finds himself grinning as he catches on, and he translates a little easier. "You sound like you're choking."

Some of the other students laugh, but it's at the other boy, who looks flustered before regaining his composure; and his sneer. "No different than you sound, freak."

Carlos' lips twitch a bit sardonically as he signs; a 'C' shape with his hand that he raises, then brings down across his chest; then with a flat palm he makes a sort of 'chop' in the air, before tapping his ear twice; then finishing with a backwards wave motion over his shoulder.

[Freak. Never heard that before.]

Jay laughs as he translates, and Carlos finishes gathering the rest of his things, his own mouth lifted into a cool smile as he faces the tormentors. Jay begins moving with him, preparing to cross the rest of the yard when the boy speaks again.

"You know you have a lot of nerve for a runt whose mom is a psycho."

It's definitely not the worst thing they'd ever heard, but Carlos stops anyway, his smile freezing on his face. He turns his head, his eyes glinting darkly and speaking more volumes than Jay could ever translate. But he does anyway.

"Fuck."

His curse brings startled gasps from some, but the focus is on Carlos and this other boy as they stare each other down.

"Coming here," the boy continues. "With your entourage and your little guard dog here," he jerks his head in Jay's direction. "Thinking that you could just walk on through and we'd all just cower and let you do whatever you want."

"Chad," someone says lowly, but the boy just sneers again.

Carlos is completely 'callous,' now as he turns back fully to face him, but before he can do anything else, two of the other boys from Chad's group rush him. Jay bites back the warning he wants to give, because while the boys are larger than Carlos, they're not fighters. Especially not when Carlos slides under one set of groping arms, using the momentum to grab and twist an arm behind its owner's back; an audible crack! filling the air and signifying a dislocated shoulder. And the second boy all but turns to stone when Carlos pulls his 'claw' from his back pocket: a small but deadly sharp dagger, so named 'Claw' because of its dark color and curved blade.

Carlos takes a challenging step forward and the students nearest him cringe back in terror. He raises an eyebrow at Chad, his lips twitching as though to say: 'You were saying?' Jay gives his own challenging grin from his place just off of Carlos' side, and Chad splutters furiously.

"Freak!" he hisses. "You really are as insane as your mom!"

Carlos' smile drops, his eyes gleaming just as darkly as his blade. The amusement fades from his face, his brows drawn in a way that hardens his expression into a cold and cruel mask.

"Woof," he says harshly, and Jay is certain the no one needs a translation for that.

Bite me.

"Well shit," he mutters with a grin as he takes in the anticipated (and really, predictable) uproar. "This just might be fun after all."