Hey guys! Happy Holidays and a belated Merry Christmas to all of you! (I know that's not a thing, but just go with it.) I hope you all had a blessed time with your families, regardless of what you celebrate this time of year.

I had been hoping to get this chapter up for you by Christmas as a present, but it didn't end up being finished until now, but hopefully you'll appreciate the thought.

On to the reviews!

anonimo: ¡Me alegra que disfrutes mucho mi historia! Esperemos que esta actualización le satisfará sin la capa y la daga! (I had to a little double take, lol! You'll have to let me know if you prefer if I continue addressing you in Spanish or English, though I don't mind the Spanish. Helps broaden my dialogue a bit. ;))

Tiredandlazy: I always look forward to your reviews so I don't know what you're talking about, lol! I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much, including my inclusion of Aziz. I was afraid no one would know who he is, since I myself only discovered him as I was researching characters for this story. Although if it makes you feel any better, Aziz is in the movie. According to the Wikia, he's on the tourney team, and sings Be Our Guest with the others, and also makes an appearance in the coronation. And as for whether any 'enemies' will make an appearance, well, I have to keep some of my secrets, don't I? ;)

Anna: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you love my story so much and I hope you'll keep reading and enjoying!

theNiceDevil: Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much, and I hope you'll continue to read and review.

Forever Furuba: I'm glad you like my portrayal of Audrey here. I feel like she was just too overboard and bratty in the movie (though there's always one like that in a Disney movie, lol) so I wanted to make her a little more 'real' here. And yes, gotta love those magical knights! And, I mentioned to Tiredandlazy, since they were upset about Aziz as well; I discovered that he does make a few small appearances in the movie, but he was never credited because his character 'technically' got cut from the film last minute. :( But I made sure to give him extra attention here.

Asuka1920: Well hopefully you're here reading more now! :)

keirstinpaige: Thank you! I'm glad you appreciate my evil genius, lol! I can't wait to write the actual event of revenge!

AllGlitchedUp: He is adorably destructive, isn't he? I'm glad you love this story, and I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy!

BooksEnPointe: Thank you for the kind review! It's always good to hear that my writing is being enjoyed and appreciated! I'm still working out the relationships for this story, to be honest. Given the nature of what I'm working with, and some of the backstories for the VKs, I don't know if they'll be in a position to form a romantic relationship so soon. (Or at least, so Disney soon, haha.) But I do have some ideas so hopefully you'll continue to read and see them play out!

Claw06: Thank you for the review! Hopefully this update will answer some of your questions, and that you continue to read and enjoy. :)

MakeItShineDiamondKat31111: That is quite the username! :) I'm glad you enjoy this story so much, and you'll definitely be getting some more backstory in this chapter, so hopefully you'll appreciate that. And thank you for the kind words!

Ok, so Author's Notes! This chapter is also a long one for you guys, so hopefully it can tide you over till the next update. A heads up that the beginning of this chapter contains a flashback, so the tense is changed and the POV is in italics, to let you know something different is happening. The POV returns to normal when the flashback has ended.

***Warnings for this chapter includes the usual, sign language, and crude language, but there is a WARNING for violence and blood, plus mentions of child abuse and mental health issues such as panic attacks, suicide and depression. WARNINGS also, for the end of the chapter contains a panic attack, so for those who trigger easily for those sorts of things, be warned!***

And on that note, on to the chapter! I hope you all will enjoy and I can't wait to hear what you all think!

-Raven

Carlos

Don't get caught.

That was the only thing on the boy's mind, the only rule that he could remember as he raced through the streets. A simple rule, the first thing anyone on the Isle was taught. Anything was allowed, just as long as you didn't get caught. But it was also easier than done, especially if your hair was as white as snow and couldn't run to save your life.

"Gonna get you, Freak!"

Which it just might turn out to be, if the angry swears and yells from behind him were any indication.

The boy ran, clutching tightly to the scarf in his hands, sweat pouring down his face and stinging his eyes. He could only be grateful that he was small enough to squeeze through spaces his pursuers could not, but even that wouldn't be enough to save him if they could catch him in an open area. He turned sharply, slamming into the brick wall of the alleyway, picking himself up and continuing on with barely a backwards glance. If he could just reach the gates he'd be safe. No one would dare mess with him within the confines of de Vil manor.

Then something snagged his foot and he fell, tumbling out into the street and crashing into a market stall. He winced as the stall owner started yelling, and wasn't fast enough to dodge the boot that slammed into his side. He gasped, scrambling away from the assault, eyes wide as he tried to figure out where he was and how to get out.

A girl stood just across the street, standing in the shadows cast by the walls around her. She was smiling, a wicked gleam in her eye that suggested she had been the cause of his fall. Carlos scowled at her, then flinched away as the street vendor came at him again, ranting and raving about paying for the damage he'd caused. He regained his balance and bolted, away from the shops and the streets, but he was once again grabbed and slammed to the ground, the heavy stench of sweat, perfume and gunpowder combining into a noxious odor that told him quite plainly that his pursuers had finally caught up to him.

"You've got something that doesn't belong to you, runt," a thick voice rasped in his ear.

Carlos grimaced at the smell of the boy's breath, jerking back roughly and twisting out of the constricting grip. He turned, and scowled as fiercely as he could at his attackers, who outnumbered him three to one. Leroux was the tallest of the group, lean and athletic, but incredibly strong in spite of the Isle's malnourishment. Although it was to be expected of him, being the son of Gaston himself.

"It bbelonged to my mo-mother first," Carlos growled out, but the taller boy just smirked.

"It's Antoine's now, and you're going to give it back."

Antoine Tremaine, nephew of the Lady Tremaine, snickered breathlessly as he hovered just to Leroux's left. The boy was an aristocrat through and through, and had probably never been involved in any kind of physical scuffle in his life; but he had a sadistic streak to rival his Aunt's. Carlos didn't doubt that whatever horrible thing they had planned for him for stealing back the scarf, it would be Antoine's idea.

"Give it back, Freak," Leroux demanded again, a sharp gleam in his eye.

Carlos grit his teeth, trying to contain his own retort. He could think of a million different things he would do that didn't involve giving the scarf back; unless it was to shove it down the idiot's throat. But he needed to bring it back home with him. He didn't even want to think about what his mother would do if he came back empty handed. Again.

"Maybe you need a little motivation."

At those words the third boy of the group shoved his way forward, and Carlos paled, stumbling back as Clay, son of Clayton, towered over him. The boy was just like his father, broad shouldered and muscular, and entirely ruthless. Carlos gripped the scarf tightly in one hand, as the other fumbled blindly at his belt, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his knife. The familiar feel of the weapon in his hand gave him just a bit more comfort, and he straightened from his defensive crouch, arranging his features into a cold glare.

Leroux and Antoine faltered, but Clay simply chuckled, cracking his knuckles menacingly. Words wouldn't work on this buffoon, Carlos realized, and he shivered in anticipation as he drew a breath, his lips curling into a silent snarl. This time, Clay did falter, but then his own face twisted into a sneer, and he slammed Carlos back into the wall.

"That the best you can do, Freak?" the larger boy hissed, twisting the arm that held the knife. "Does the little puppy actually think he can beat the hunter?"

Carlos wanted to retort that if a bunch of monkeys and a wild man could snap his father's neck, then this little puppy most definitely could do the same. But it was too many words, and his breath was suddenly cut off as the other boy viciously dug his arm into his throat. Leroux and Antoine were snickering stupidly behind them, and Carlos grit his teeth, growling a warning as he struggled against the constricting grip. His wrist jerked sharply upwards, and he was rewarded when the chokehold released, and a multitude of cursing reached his ears- some even in French, courtesy of both Leroux and Antoine.

Carlos giggled as he watched Clay, now bleeding heavily from what was definitely a missing finger, whimper and scramble around desperately, searching for his severed appendage. Unfortunately for him, Antoine noticed his amusement and glowered fiercely, Leroux closing in just behind him.

"You're gonna pay for that, asshole," Leroux promised, while Antoine crouched next to Clay, using his handkerchief to help staunch the bleeding.

"What do you think, Clay," the thin boy said. "Break his fingers? Cut off a hand? An eye for an eye sort of thing, right. It's only fair."

"Merde," Carlos whispered hoarsely as Leroux came at him, murderous intent lighting in the boy's eyes as he grasped Carlos' left arm firmly, pinning him to the brick wall behind him.

"Antoine," Leroux called over his shoulder. "Be a dear, won't you? You've got the better handwriting, after all."

Carlos squirmed desperately in the boy's grip, trying vainly to get away as panic began to get to him. It occurred to him that these boys were all much older and larger than him, that he was only seven and way too young to be pissing off the local thugs. That maybe he should have played the coward role instead of his callous one. But this all occurred to him too late.

Too late because Antoine had already pried his knife from his trapped hand. Too late because that very blade was now being used against him, carving mercilessly into his skin. Pain exploded along every nerve and Carlos fought hard not to release the scream that was building in his throat. He couldn't look weak, even now.

"…and just to top it all off…."

Carlos barely registered Leroux's sadistic words, but he did register when the hands shifted on his body, grabbing his right arm in a death grip. Before he could fully react to what was happening, there was a sharp jerk, and a loud crack rang in his ears. It was the shock of the noise that made him yell, but then the pain hit, and it hit hard. He screamed then, his whole right side seemingly engulfed in white hot flames, radiating out from his shoulder and going down the length of his arm. The weight was gone from his body and he rolled onto his left side, tears streaming down his face as he reached desperately around to cradle his injured arm. He could see boots swimming before his eyes, and he flinched, letting out another scream as it connected with his already injured shoulder.

The scarf lay on the ground before him, and he scrambled, reaching as best as he could for it despite the pain. A boot came down on the scarf, stopping his efforts, but it was different from the polished boots of his enemies. This one was blue. A curse was grumbled out from somewhere above him, and he could hear them taking a few steps forward.

"He's ours."

The boot didn't shift from the scarf, and he could only make out the edge of the person's face from where he lay, but he didn't like his chances against another potential threat.

"He's mine now."

It was a girl, judging from the voice, but there was an edge to her tone that made even his tormentors pause. He watched as they glared at each other, but the girl wasn't backing down, and he heard another low curse before something wet hit him in the face.

"Just you wait, runt," he heard. "That witch won't be around to protect you forever."

"Witch?" The girl repeated, but she sounded amused. "That's a new one. I'll be sure to add it to my list."

With a few more curses and nasty insults, they fled, and he was left alone with his savior. Well, maybe. He sat up slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise, but a small whimper escaped him anyway as his arm gave a particularly nasty throb.

"I hate to sound concerned, but…are you ok?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure how to respond to that. He tried for a nod, but his head was spinning, and he grit his teeth as nausea churned in his stomach.

"Liar," she said, but it wasn't angry or threatening.

She crouched down, and he was finally able to make out her face. She was nine years old, with pale skin, and dark hair that seemed to melt into blue at the ends. Her eyes were a pale blue, like he would imagine the sky would look if it weren't perpetually grey. He felt another pang as he recognized her as the girl from the alleyway; the one who had tripped him as he was running. He felt his features twist into a scowl, and the girl smiled, a hint of a laugh in her voice as she spoke.

"I wasn't going to pass up a perfect opportunity," she said, rightly reading his expression.

He grimaced angrily, but didn't bother to ask what had made her change her mind.

"I'm Evie, by the way," she continued easily.

He started to respond, then closed his mouth again as the words spasmed painfully in his throat. He winced apologetically, and she raised a brow.

"One of the quiet ones, huh?" she said. "Well, I won't ask how you got tangled up with Leroux and his goons. They did a number on you, though didn't they? Dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist! I didn't know that physically possible. Not to mention, well…" she trailed off and glanced pointedly at his left arm, which was still dripping red from being carved up by Claw.

Carlos shifted his arm out of view and cast another glare her way, wishing he could find a way to tell her off with as few words as possible. Even the two that were currently at the forefront of his mind were still too much, and he settled for sullen silence in the hopes that that could make her go away on her own.

"You should probably get that looked at."

More sullen silence.

"I know someone, if you wanted…" She grabbed his free arm and pulled him to his feet before he could respond, and he yelped as his other arm was jostled painfully.

"Sorry," she said, not looking it at all. She reached down and scooped up the fallen scarf, shaking it free of mud and weaving it through her fingers. "This is yours, I believe," she began, but then she smiled, her eyes glimmering mischievously. "Well, I guess it's mine now; to repay me for saving your life."

"No!" He choked out, stumbling forward and trying to grab the scarf back from her. "Please! I ne-need that!"

Her eyes widened even as she held the scarf away from him. "Oh," she murmured. "So you're the one they were talking about! There was talk around about a kid who…."

"Co-co-couldn't talk?" He finished with a sneer, but it was only to keep the flicker of hurt from showing on his face.

"Cruella, right?" She asked, pointing at him with the hand holding the scarf. He stopped, staring blankly as she extended her other hand. "Evil Queen," she continued, grasping his free hand and shaking once before releasing him.

"Yeah," he said quietly, unnerved by her strange attitude. "Crr…" he broke off with a frustrated grimace, blushing slightly, but she only seemed amused by his pathetic attempt at words.

"Come on," she said, and with that she proceeded to drag him out of the alleyway and back into the street. He allowed himself to be led through the twists and turns, his eyes on the scarf that she'd tied around her wrist, plotting in his mind how he was going to get it back. She stopped just outside an impressive looking castle, complete with a drawbridge, though it was closed up and secured with an ominous iron fence.

"We have to go around the side," she said, and he shook his head, staring up at the massive turrets.

"W-w-here?" He whispered, and she huffed a little.

"That friend I told you about," she explained. "The one who can fix your arm. She lives here."

Here? He thought, staring up at the foreboding castle. It looked like something straight out of a storybook. It even had stone gargoyles on the turrets at the top. No wait, not gargoyles…dragons. Even better.

"We have to go around the side," Evie repeated, dragging him along once more until the stood above a narrow opening in the ground. It was low, and he couldn't even see inside it was so dark, but she nudged him towards it anyway.

"Normally we climb down, but that won't be an option for you. Just jump, but uh, don't forget to bend your knees."

She shoved him even as he was gathering the breath to protest, and he let out a strangled yelp as he fell down through the hole. He remembered at the last second to bend his knees, but his legs still jolted painfully as he landed, and he winced, blinking as his eyes began to adjust to the dim light. He gasped as he felt something brush against him, but he was tackled and slammed against the nearest wall for what seemed like the millionth time that day. The difference here, however, came in the form of a sharp knife, which was shoved against his throat with enough force to cut him if he so much as dared to swallow.

"Who are you and why shouldn't I cut you open right here?"

The voice was male, and surprisingly young, but the skill with which he wielded the knife was enough to warrant him a sufficient threat.

"Jay, no!"

Evie scrambled down behind him, and the knife pulled away a fraction of an inch.

"He's new," Evie continued. "I brought him to see Mal."

"Why?"

"So she can fix him."

"Fix?"

Here the person threatening him backed away, and Carlos gasped as his heart hammered wildly in his ears. He was finally able to see, and he took in a dirt cellar sparsely decorated with a few dark curtains, a few bare light bulbs dangling from the ceiling and illuminating the place. He stared up into the face of a tanned youth, black hair framing his face from beneath a red knit cap.

"Leroux and his crew," Evie said in explanation, as the boy took in his injured arm.

"So you saved him out of the goodness of your heart." The boy's tone was mocking, his mouth twisted into a smirk, and Evie scowled at him.

"It was my fault they caught him in the first place," she said, and there may have been something like sorrow or even guilt in her voice before it was replaced by a haughty sort of triumph. "I tripped him."

Jay laughed, a short clipped bark that made the smaller boy flinch to hear it. "Well, whose is he, anyway?"

He froze as the boy turned to him, and he tried to summon what little courage he had to return the curious stare. He drew a slow breath, tracing the syllables silently with his tongue before pushing them forward and adding sound.

"Cr-ruella," he said, wincing at the stutter, cursing himself for not being able to get it right.

"So you're the runt!" Jay exclaimed, but it wasn't quite as condescending as it had been coming from Leroux. "They said Cruella's kid couldn't talk, but I thought they meant at all!"

"Jay!" Evie hissed. "Don't be rude!"

"Nnnot a runt," he muttered, shooting the boy his own dark look.

"Carlos, right?" Jay asked, extending a hand and ignoring the reaction.

He nodded, accepting the hand warily and grimacing as the boy squeezed a little too hard.

"Well, I'm Jay. Son of Jafar." There was a cockiness about the way he said it, but also something else, though Carlos couldn't quite grasp what it could be. "And you've met Her Royal Highness," Jay continued, winking as he motioned to Evie. "So all that's left is…"

"Who are you?"

The voice was cold as it swept through the room, and silence fell as both Evie and Jay straightened from their casual poses. Carlos turned to see a girl, clad in purple and green leather, ominously stepping out from the shadows and giving him a death glare. Her eyes were a piercing green, almost as intense as the green in her jacket, and her hair was a dark purple that nearly perfectly matched her boots. She couldn't have been much older than he was; maybe nine or ten at the most. Despite her appearance, there was an air of danger and authority about her that made Carlos take a step back as she strode into the room.

"Well?" She snapped, and he opened his mouth and closed it a few times wordlessly, trying to make words work in his favor.

"He's Carlos," Evie jumped in, glancing at him with a worried look. "I know I shouldn't have brought him here but you were the only one I could think of to…."

Mal raised a hand, stopping Evie's flow of words. "I'm asking him."

"He can't talk." This one was from Jay, and though he stood with confidence there was hesitation in his eyes as he faced the girl, who was so much smaller than him that it would have been laughable if she weren't so terrifying.

Mal glanced over at him curiously, and he tried to make himself appear smaller and more pathetic than he already was. His arm had gone numb at this point, but he was more concerned now about how he was going to escape from this unscathed.

"That's new," Mal replied slowly, walking towards him. He backed away, but ran into the wall, dirt falling from above and into his hair.

"Are you afraid of me, Carlos?"

He swallowed, a soft shudder going through him at the way she dragged out his name. She smiled a little, chuckling darkly at his no doubt terrified expression.

"Good," she said. "You should be."

Carlos

As it turned out, Carlos hadn't entirely wrong in his fear of Mal, but looking back on it now, Carlos couldn't help but smile. Even then Mal had been a fearless leader, and once she'd finally accepted his presence in their group, she'd worked just as hard to protect him as she did Evie and Jay. Not so much herself, though. Mal would often throw herself headlong into any situation, and deal with the repercussions as they came. Which was often and typically violently delivered.

Carlos' lips twitch in amusement, but he didn't move from his position on the rooftop. How the tables had turned, he thinks. That now he's the one looking out for them. But someone had to stand guard, and he knew he wasn't going to get any sleep. Not after seeing all those dead frogs and fish in the jars in the lab; bringing back horrible memories of all those times he'd been forced to kill and cut up animals back on the Isle in attempts to make him toughen up.

And he especially wouldn't sleep in that plush, Auradon bed, so different from home; so right and yet, so wrong. The closest he'd ever gotten to a soft, warm bed had been when he was four and Cruella had thrown him into the tumbler with all her other furs during one of her fits. After being battered and bruised and nearly crushed, she'd simply left him there, and he'd burrowed down with all the other coats and cried himself to sleep.

Carlos grimaces, shaking his head in attempt to clear it of his thoughts and memories. He wasn't a little kid anymore, and he wasn't helpless. He rubs absently at the scars on his arms, still wondering what had driven him to show them to Ben. Prince Ben, he corrects himself quickly. The others might have let their guard down here, but he knew better. And he wasn't going to be helpless again.

Jay

"Aw, man," Jay groans happily as he rubs the last bit of water from his hair. "Working showers and these amazing beds; I think I'd like staying here a while. What do you think bro?"

He pauses when he doesn't receive a response, and sticks his head out the bathroom door. "Carlos?"

The room is quiet and empty, devoid of the clanking of metallic pieces from Carlos' latest project, and Jay quickly exits the bathroom, sliding on a pair of shorts as he jogs across the carpet. As he runs, he scans the room desperately for any sign of the other boy, though he knows instinctively that he isn't there. Then the open window catches his eye, and he huffs a sigh of equal parts relief and frustration as he realizes.

Climbing the ladder attached to the side of building took him straight to the roof, where a certain blond haired youth sat curled along the ledge. If it weren't for the hair, and the spotted sleeves sticking out from beneath his cloak, Jay wouldn't have even seen him he was so still.

"Carlos?" Jay calls softly as he approaches, careful to keep his voice low and even. Despite that, the other boy still flinches violently, his whole body tense as he whips around to glare at Jay.

Carlos makes a soft sound, but doesn't bother saying anything, instead resuming his position on the edge of the roof. Jay creeps the rest of the way over and hunches down next to Carlos, careful not to let any part of him dangle over the side or brush against the other boy, in case he went into another of his 'fits.'

"What'cha doing bro?" Jay asks, staring out over the dorms while also keeping an eye on the boy beside him.

Carlos shrugs a shoulder, both knees tucked close to his chest, but his hands were free, and fiddling with his dog tail.

"So you just decided to climb out onto the roof and sit on the edge for fun?" Jay probes, keeping his words light. "Not feeling suicidal, are you? I mean, I know this place is nuts, but…."

Carlos growls softly, and Jay looks over to see the boy's features arranged in a grimace, a sharp light of pain in his eyes. Jay winced, kicking himself for his insensitivity. There had been a very brief, but very dark period of Carlos' early years where Cruella's madness had tilted towards the suicidal, and several times had attempted to take Carlos with her. It wasn't something any of them liked to talk about, Carlos especially.

"Right," Jay mumbles, looking away. "Sorry, stupid of me."

"Y-yeah."

Jay glances back, but Carlos is definitely avoiding his eyes now, glaring out over the lawns. Jay sighs, cursing his insensitivity and trying to think of how to dig himself out of this hole.

"So," he tries again after the silence had gotten too thick for his tastes. "What are you doing out here Carlos?"

The other boy groans under his breath, but his hands move; his index and middle fingers extended and hovering just before his eyes, palm facing outward; then he gestures with his hands, hovering them around the general area, still at eye level.

[Looking around.]

Jay chuckles a bit, suddenly getting it. "Standing guard, you mean?" he teases, nudging Carlos' shoulder and ignoring the way the boy tenses at the contact. "You know we don't need to do that here, right? We're safe."

Carlos shakes his head, his eyes narrowed angrily as he signs; pointing first to Jay; then bringing a flat palm to the side of his head near his temple, he touches the tips of his fingers to his head before twisting his palm outward; then pointing again at Jay.

[You don't know that!]

"Woah, chill," Jay says, lifting his own hands in a surrender motion. "I just meant…well, no, I meant it. We don't need to watch out for anything."

Carlos shakes his head, signing again. [You don't know that.]

Jay sighs, leaning back from the edge a bit. He knew old habits didn't die, and he couldn't blame Carlos for this particular habit sticking. They were in a new place, after all. But Jay had hoped that maybe, at least, before the run in with Kropp and that asshole Chad, maybe things could be different for them here.

He shakes his head, knowing that he couldn't afford to think like that. There was no 'better.' The only reason they were here was as part of some twisted experiment. An attempt to ease the consciences of the guilty Auradonians and show the poor, suffering Isle children that life was better in a place where everybody randomly bursts into song every five minutes. No, there was nothing better for them here; they just had to get the wand so they could take over and really make things different.

Carlos still hadn't moved, and Jay frowns as he notices the shadows under the boy's eyes.

"Hey," Jay whispers, edging back over. "Exactly how long have you been up here?"

Carlos shrugs again in response, and Jay scowls, frustrated at the worry and concern he can feel rising inside him. He knew Carlos wouldn't let this go, wouldn't give up his post for anything once he'd set it up, but Jay also knew that Mal would kill him if she found out he'd let the other boy stay out on the roof all night.

"Ok," Jay drawls, deciding. "How about this…we do it in shifts, ok? You've been out here the entire time I've been showering, so why don't you go in and get one while I stay look out."

Carlos hums shortly, and Jay glances over hopefully.

"Ok?" Jay tries again. "After that we can both stand watch, right?"

Carlos nods slowly in response, and Jay sighs quietly in relief. He stands quickly and extends a hand, but the other boy scrambles up by himself, still silent as he climbs back through the window and into the bedroom. Jay shakes his head, latching the glass firmly behind him before crossing to his side of the closet and grabbing a dark gold shirt with long sleeves.

"You're gonna love the shower dude," Jay brags to Carlos as he pulls the shirt over his head. "It's a bit confusing cuz it's got so many knobs, but I swear, it's like…"

The bathroom door slams shut firmly, cutting Jay off abruptly. He frowns, striding across the room to the door. He tries the handle but it's locked, and Jay raps on the wood.

"Carlos?" he calls through the door. "You ok?"

A heavy thud is all he gets in answer, and he backs away from the door as it jars in the frame; a sure sign of something heavy just having been thrown at it.

"Alright," Jay calls back. "I get when I'm not wanted."

"Bet Jaf-ar wwould disagree."

Jay stiffens at those muffled words, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You want to come say that to my face, runt?" he growls back.

Absolute silence from the other side of the door, and Jay kicks the wood hard with his foot. "I'm serious, Carlos," he snaps. "Is there something we need to talk about?"

"You're sup-possed to be sta-standing guard," Carlos mutters from inside the bathroom, and Jay kicks the door again.

"Fuck that!" He snarls.

"Fu-fuck you," Carlos retorts, and though the words sound shakier than his usual stuttered responses, it's effective enough to thoroughly piss Jay off.

It doesn't occur to Jay that the insults and fierce arguments are entirely unlike the other boy's usual attitude; that Carlos had been unnervingly quiet since the lab. It doesn't occur to him to note the added shakiness of the boy's words, or recall the fact that retreating and shoving everyone away was one of the warning signs; the younger boy's attempt to hide himself away before he exploded. All that does occur to Jay is his anger, and he was too engrossed in it to notice much else.

"Dammit Carlos," Jay hisses threateningly. "Don't make me get Mal back in here; she will go full dragon on your ass."

He kicks the door again just to emphasize his point. "I mean it…."

"So d-do I," Carlos calls back, but his voice is half drowned out by the sound of the water suddenly turning on.

Jay swears furiously at the door, and is about to start kicking it down when something clatters to the floor and a harsh gasp sounds from the other side. He presses himself to the wood, knocking instead of banging.

"Carlos?" he calls, suddenly much more subdued.

There's complete silence from the bathroom, the water still pounding ominously in the background.

"Shit," Jay hisses. "Carlos!"

There's an almost imperceptible splash, followed by a muffled whimper, and Jay feels his insides twist painfully.

"Fuck," he breathes, rapping on the door with urgency. "Carlos? I'm not mad, just…just open the door!"

Silenced whimpering was all that he heard in response, and Jay sucks in a sharp breath as his mind begins concocting every manner of horrible scenario. He knows instinctively, what is happening, what this is; but the knowledge does little to reassure him. Not when he's locked out and entirely unable to reach the other boy. And if he started panicking, there'd be no way he could help Carlos. Jay tried to draw a steadying breath, but his nerves are shot and all he can manage is a sharp intake before he's pacing frantically in front of the bathroom door.

"Fuck," he chants breathlessly. "Shit fuck fuckity fucking fuck!"

He couldn't think, but the cursing helped at least, clearing enough of his frustration that he could try. He knew he couldn't get to Carlos, but he was in no position to talk the other boy out of his fear. That was Evie's job.

"Evie," Jay whispers, the idea lighting in his head. He turns back to the door and taps gently at the wood. "Hey Carlos," he murmurs quietly. "I'm going to get Mal and Evie, ok? I won't be gone long, I'm just bringing the girls here."

There's still no response, but Jay hadn't really expected one. He considers silence at least, to be a better answer than screaming.

Jay shudders, trying to suppress the memories and fears that threaten to resurface.

"Stay focused Jay," he mutters to himself as he crosses to the window. "Get Mal and Evie and get back for Carlos. That's the goal."

Jay inches out over the ledge he and Carlos had sat on and drops easily over the side, gripping the sill above him with his fingers while his toes find purchase in the brick beneath. He inches along the side of the building, counting the windows as he goes until he reaches the fourth window down from his and Carlos' bedroom. The window is dark, but that had never stopped him before and it doesn't deter him now.

Jay stretches himself down and carefully drops, grasping the window as he falls and lifting himself back up. He pauses to catch his breath and grin in appreciation of his own stunt before resuming his serious demeanor and rapping urgently against the window. Instantly a light flickers on inside, and Jay swings himself through the window the moment the latch clicks open.

He lands beside Evie's bed on the balls of his feet, the girls herself sitting up in the bed while Mal stands by the window, her hand still hovering on the latch.

"Where's Carlos?" Mal demands before Jay can fully draw a breath.

"Locked himself…in the bathroom," Jay pants, his words broken up as he catches his breath. "He's having…another…fit."

Evie jerks like someone had struck her, vaulting out of bed with a sharp cry while Mal's eyes flicker violently with green as she swears hoarsely.

"And you just left him there?" Mal growls, and Jay cringes back from her anger, retreating towards the window.

"Well I couldn't very well get to him, could I?" he tries to explain himself, but Mal is beyond reasoning with like this.

"Idiot!" Mal snarls, barely pausing to shove her feet into shoes before she pushes her way past Jay and lifts herself silently out of the window.

Jay turns to Evie, hoping for some kind of understanding, but the other girl doesn't even look at him as she pulls her cloak around her shoulders and follows after their leader. Jay huffs a sigh, shaking his head as he follows them both, closing the window firmly behind him.

Mal

Mal doesn't hesitate even for a second once she reaches the boys' dorm room. The minute her feet touch the carpet, she strides across the floor towards the bathroom, pulling a pin from her hair as she does so. Unlike Evie, who insisted on wearing all sorts of bows and ribbons and other disgustingly flowery stuff in her hair, Mal only allowed herself one small hair pin, and solely for practical purposes. Like picking locks.

She wasn't as fluent in lock picking as Jay or Carlos, but she'd done her fair share of breaking and entering back on the Isle. The bathroom door's lock didn't stand a chance, and clicks open with little manipulation from her. Despite what she wanted to do, Mal didn't burst through the door. Instead, she crouches down in front of the wood and knocks as softly as she can, which still sounds too loud to her ears; despite being partially drowned out by the sound of running water.

"Carlos," she calls quietly, but firmly through the door. "It's Mal; open the door."

There's nothing from inside the bathroom to indicate that the boy had heard her, but Mal is almost positive that she can hear crying beneath the rushing water. She stifles a curse and tries knocking again as Evie and Jay scramble through the window behind her.

"Is he ok?" Evie asks as soon as she's inside. "Should I…?"

"No," Mal cuts her off quickly, shaking her head. It was obvious enough that Carlos wasn't ok, but she knew that wasn't what the other girl had meant. "I got this."

And she did, even if this particular job typically went to Evie. Mal was good at being firm, though; talking Carlos down and not letting him dodge away or retreat like the other girl usually did. And Mal always wanted answers, whereas Evie let it slide and just focused on the comforting. But Mal could do this...and she would, if Carlos would just open the damn door.

"What happened?" Mal demands of Jay when she hears his footsteps behind her. "How did this one even start?"

Jay shuffles in a way that Mal thinks means he's shrugging, and his voice is baffled but defensive as he answers.

"Honestly, I don't know! It just came out of nowhere."

"Obviously not," Mal snaps back. "If it's this bad…if he's locked himself away."

Carlos' fits typically followed some kind of pattern, and there was always a trigger. The trick was in finding out what it was that had triggered him, but Carlos always tried to hide himself away before the actual event occurred; whether by becoming overly defensive and physically hiding, or by shoving everyone away from him. The worst ones were always the ones that he shoved people away for, and Mal could never get it through to him that they weren't going anywhere and that it only made it worse when he did that.

"The lab," Evie chimes in behind her. "The dead animals in the jars…could that have upset him so much it started this?"

"Could be," Mal mutters, but she knows that that's not really it. He wouldn't have locked himself away if it were just that.

"He was quiet after, though," Jay tries, correctly reading her tone. "Too quiet. And he was up on the roof for a good hour or so after you guys left."

"Doing what?" Evie says, incredulously, while Mal straightens by the door, turning her head to see Jay as he responds.

"Said he was just looking around," Jay answers. "Trying to be casual about it, but he was standing guard."

Evie grimaces in sympathetic understanding. "Old habits," she sighs, but Mal frowns.

"What did you do?" she asks Jay, and if it sounded more accusing than she intended, she didn't try and take it back.

"I didn't do anything," Jay protests hotly. "I just wanted him to come inside, maybe get a shower and relax. I told him I'd keep watch to try and make him feel better…he's the one who started hurling insults."

"What did he say?" Evie asks, raising a brow, and Jay grits his jaw angrily.

"He shut himself in the bathroom and then threw something at the door when I tried to talk to him," he says lowly. "I made a joke, said I knew when I wasn't wanted, and he said that my dad…that Jafar would disagree."

Evie stifles a scoff, and Jay glowers at her, silencing her amusement. "Anyway," the taller boy continues. "It went downhill from there. I got mad, he got mad, I said I'd get Mal to kick his ass if he didn't quit being a jerk…I don't know, but then I realized what was happening. Too late at that point."

Jay winces as he finishes, dropping his gaze to floor, but it lifts back up when Mal stands from her spot by the door.

"So he'd been showing signs all night, but he hurt your feelings and so you get angry and don't even bother to notice until he was too far gone?" Mal is so furious she can barely get the words out, but her point gets across and Evie pales while Jay's hands clench at his sides.

"M," Evie says slowly. "You know it's not like that."

"But it's clearly like something though, isn't it Jay?" Mal snarls. "Or else it wouldn't have reached this point and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

She turns away from him before she does something she might not regret later, and instead focuses on calming herself down. She couldn't afford to wait on Carlos now. It was apparent that this was going to be one of the bad ones, and she wouldn't risk worsening it by carrying her anger in with her. Mal draws a slow breath and then taps on the door again, keeping her voice even but calm.

"Carlos, I'm coming in, alright? It's just me, but I need you to scoot away from the door, ok?"

There's still no answer, but Mal turns the knob and carefully pushes the door open. It only opens about a quarter of the way before it's stopped by something, and Mal sighs softly, turning her body and pressing herself against the door frame. She squeezes her way in before closing the door again behind her, sliding slowly down the wall and facing Carlos, who was curled up just inside the door.

"Carlos?" Mal says quietly, and the smaller boy shivers, trying to tuck himself into an even smaller ball and whimpering softly.

The shower is running into the tub beside her, steam and heat filling the small space so it was almost impossible to breathe. Carlos' pants and jacket were hung over a rack that was clearly meant for towels, but his shorts and spotted red shirt are soaking wet and plastered to his body, his hair clinging in damp strands to his face, and Mal stifles a curse as she realizes what must have happened. She leans over and shuts off the shower faucet, drawing an easier breath that wasn't so filled with steam.

"I'm not mad at you Carlos," Mal says as she leans back against the wall. "But I need you to look at me. Can you do that?"

He doesn't respond, not even with a whimper, and Mal grits her jaw. The Evie approach wasn't working: time to go full Mal. She straightens from her casual pose against the wall and draws a steadying breath, her voice firm and brokering no arguments as she speaks.

"Damn it Carlos, look at me."

She doesn't yell, but her request is absolute, and Carlos flinches in his little ball, a sharp gasp slipping past his lips as he snaps his head up to look at her. His eyes are wide and wet with tears, but they're clear enough that Mal can tell he's focusing on her.

"Ssorry," he whispers, and his voice is high and thick from crying.

"It's fine," Mal says quickly, dismissing the apology. "I just needed you to look at me."

Carlos whimpers this time, tightening his body once again and ducking his head like he's waiting for her to start hitting him. Mal grimaces, knowing that exact thing would have happened if they'd been back on the Isle, and she had been someone else. She shoves all that aside, though, forcing herself to stay focused on Carlos, who was rocking and whimpering pleas and apologies; promises to not do it again; to be good. It always makes her sick, seeing him like this, but she wasn't about to make this worse by giving in to her own feelings.

"Hey," she says firmly. "Eyes on me."

He obeys, lifting his head, but he's gasping again, his whole body shuddering as he fights to catch his breath. His eyes widen and Mal can practically feel his pain as he starts crying again.

"Breathe," Mal commands him, resisting the sudden and uncharacteristic urge to rush forward and physically comfort him. "Eyes on me, Carlos. Breathe."

He shakes his head, blinking hard as he trembles. His next breath is sharp and desperate, his response a helpless rasp of air.

"Ca-can't."

"You can," Mal insists quietly, her own voice level despite the slight tremor of her hands. "Just like I am, slow and steady."

"Aaair," Carlos hisses, rocking harder as though that would help.

"There's plenty of air," Mal responds evenly. "Just breathe, Carlos. Like I am."

She draws another slow breath to demonstrate, and the boy tries, his whole body heaving with the effort.

"Good," Mal praises lowly, her voice still firm and even. "Do it again, slower."

The smaller boy shivers again, and Mal eyes the water collecting around him. She'd have to hurry this up. He was definitely going to get sick if he sat soaking wet like this for much longer. Not that she really cared...but it would be nice to avoid any more suspicion thrown their way, and Carlos suddenly falling ill would certainly do that.

Mal's eyes snap back to the boy in question as he whimpers again and once more tries to curl up again.

"No you don't," Mal scolds him, nudging him carefully with her foot. "Eyes on me, remember?"

When his eyes meet hers this time, they're narrowed, a flicker of something hard flashing through them. Mal allows the satisfied smile to show on her face, and is rewarded when Carlos sits up further, the annoyance growing in his eyes even if his body was still fighting for air.

"Breathe," Mal reminds him, and he shivers slightly, but does as he's told, the air coming a bit easier now that the majority of the steam had cleared.

"Ssorry," he whispers again, drawing another breath that was more like a gasp. "Sssorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Mal says, shaking her head. "I'm not mad at you."

Carlos' trembling eases a bit at that, his eyes clearing a little more as he catches his breath. Mal lets him breathe for a few more moments before deciding she could move. Slowly so she didn't set him off again, she reaches up and grabs one of the towels she'd seen hanging on a rack earlier, unfolding it slowly and draping it over her lap. Carlos had been watching her every move, but when he saw where she'd put the towel he frowns, and his eyes peer up at her suspiciously.

"Cold in here," Mal says easily in explanation, and Carlos shivers again, blinking as though he'd just realized that he was wet.

"Mal?" He says, and his voice is still a little hoarse, but it's his own, full of confusion as he stares at her.

"No," Mal responds flatly. "I'm the Fairy Godmother."

But inside, she's practically giddy with relief that he'd recognized her and was starting to come out of it. Carlos frowns even harder at her deadpan, and starts to shift his weight before wincing in pain that he fails to hide in his vulnerable state.

"Careful," Mal warns belatedly. "You've been curled up in one position for a while."

"Wh-what?" He tries to say, but then he takes in the rest of the bathroom and seems to realize. "Oh," he whispers, tucking his chin to his chest.

"You want this towel?" Mal asks, to distract him from his embarrassment and hopefully nudge him in the right direction. He glances up at her long enough to spot the thick green towel in her arms and nods, reaching for it blindly as he ducks hid head again.

"What is it then?" Mal asks, lifting her hand out of reach.

He peers up at her, eyes blinking slowly as he stares at the towel. He doesn't verbally respond, but his hands move; his palms up and fingers spread slightly, he shrugs his shoulders and furrows his brow at her.

[What?]

"The thing that's bothering you," Mal says, forgiving the sign language. She'd let him talk like that for now, but she wanted answers, and she would get them from him.

Carlos shakes his head, his hands forming 'O' shapes as he hold them near his shoulders.

[Nothing.]

"Of course," Mal says sharply, scowling. "And nothing is what drove you to another fit."

Carlos flinches at that, but he's still frowning, his hands moving faster now as he came out of his shell; his left hand raised and fingers pressed together like he was holding something; then he snaps open his hand and lowers it slightly before pointing towards her; his index finger just off from indicating her directly. He continues, bringing both hands up again near his torso; fingers spread and palms facing him, he moves his hands back and forth with a slightly scrunched expression on his face, frowning sharply as he shakes his head at her.

[Drop it. It doesn't matter.]

"But clearly it matters to you," Mal counters relentlessly. "So it matters to all of us."

Carlos bares his teeth in a silent snarl, but Mal wasn't about to be intimidated by the show of false bravado. She grits her jaw against his attack and straightens further against the wall. "I'm still waiting," Mal says, and Carlos' hands reach to fiddle with his dog tail, before his fingers close on empty air and he blinks, looking up at his out-of-reach pants and the red dog tail attached to the belt.

"Carlos," Mal prods.

The boy grimaces, shaking his head and bringing up a hand in a loose fist shape, brushing his thumb along the underside of his chin.

[Don't.]

"Don't what, Carlos?" Mal replies. "Care? Because I think it's been well established at this point that I have to care about what happens to you, despite better judgement saying otherwise."

Carlos doesn't look at her, but his hands continue moving; shaking an index finger back and forth before bringing a hand up to his cheek in a loose fist shape; four fingers folded down with his thumb pressed just underneath: a modified version of the sign for 'apple,' combined with the sign for the letter 'E.'

[Where's Evie?]

"In the other room with Jay," Mal answers. "And I'm going to pretend I'm not offended by that question, and wait for you to answer mine."

"It doesn't ma-ma-matter," Carlos snaps shakily, rocking again as he became agitated.

Mal tosses him the towel to distract him again, and he glowers at her, but accepts it, wrapping it around himself and almost disappearing underneath the cotton material. "What doesn't matter?" Mal asks.

"Th-this," Carlos retorts, rubbing his face roughly and muffling his words. "This…it does-doesn't ma-tter! We're only he-here to get the wwwand, so nothing that happ-ens here matters, so wh-why should I g...et upset o-o-over it?!"

Mal falters, cut off guard by his vehemence, and she finds herself dropping her stern attitude and leaning forward, a genuine…sympathy filling her.

"Carlos," she begins, but the boy shakes his head hard and stands abruptly.

He wobbles on his feet a moment, but then he rushes for the door, barely pausing for breath as he tugs the door open and stumbles out into the room beyond. Mal hears Evie's voice calling the boy's name, and Jay says something as well, but there's nothing from Carlos except for a frantic scrambling sound. Mal sighs to herself on the bathroom floor, thinking over his words as something slams in the other room and Jay and Evie start talking again, their voices lifting in pleading tones.

'Nothing that happens here matters…' is that really what he thought? Well, obviously it was, but to think that they didn't care, no. That she didn't care. That's what that had been; his accusation at her for pushing. Not just pushing for the wand, for recognition and approval, but pushing despite the fact that such things had just been brutally crushed for him by a figure that should have been -if not trustworthy, since no one was truly trustworthy in her experiences- at least encouraging of such ideas.

"Damn," Mal mutters to herself, her eyes flitting around the bathroom and once more taking in the signs of the damage. The water could be mopped up, but the fear was still there, lingering in every muted drip into the tub, fear that she had helped to place there.

It took Mal a moment to realize what it was that was squeezing her insides, as the feeling was something almost entirely foreign to her. But there was no mistaking the churning in her gut as she stared at the signs of the damage she'd helped cause…guilt.