Hey guys! Sorry this took a little bit longer to update, I had (and still do) a lot planned for this chapter, and I had to make sure everything sounded right, and that I wasn't trying to cram too much into one chapter.
Excuses aside! On to my reviews! (You know what to do)
Ashley.g: Thank you for the review, I'm glad you're enjoying this story! And thank you for the suggestion, I am still thinking things over, and I appreciate the ideas.
PJoHoOFan: Thank you for the kind words, it means a lot to hear how much people are getting into this, lol! It totally makes sense, and I'm glad you appreciate all the background stuff and think I'm doing it well; world building has always been a challenge for me. But I'm glad you think I got it right, at least so far! In terms of pairings, well, let's just say I have plans…. *cue mischievous smirk* But don't worry, hopefully what I've got planned will make everyone happy.
bookgirl111: Sorry to disappoint, lol. No, Jay and Aziz is not the pairing I was going for, though they will (eventually, maybe) strike up some kind of friendship. There will be a chance for some more Doug/Evie interaction, and as for Chad and Carlos, well, we'll just have to see where things go. ;) Hopefully you'll continue to follow along and enjoy!
Kevin4baconhugs: Haha, aw, thank you so much for the kind words. I'm glad you love this story so much, and that I've managed to affect you so much. You have reviewed some of my chapters before, but it was good to hear from you again! Not gonna lie, Carlos is definitely my favorite too. (Can you tell yet?) I was scolded by another reviewer for focusing on him too much, as it turns out, haha, so I've been working on showcasing the others a bit more. ;) Things will definitely be angsty for a while, but a resolution is coming, I promise! I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy.
Tiredandlazy: Hey! Haha, honestly, I enjoy your reviews either way, hot mess or no, lol! (and so it begins…) I'm glad you like my dialogue, because I always struggle with conversations (in writing, and real life…especially real life…) so a majority of the time, if I'm hung up on something in a chapter, it's most likely just a conversation that is holding up the whole thing. (That may or may not have happened with this chapter…anyway!) I hope you found Aziz, even if it is just the new actor playing him and not the original Descendants actor, and I'm glad you like the idea of him and Carlos as friends. I'll be cultivating that soon, I think. Um, I don't think I've ever written amiright before, haha. I have a friend who says it a lot though, if that counts for anything? No? K. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
dancergymnast2003: Thanks so much for the review and the constructive criticisms. Hearing that, I looked back and I realized you're right, I do kind of skip over Mal and Evie a bit, so I will definitely be working on incorporating all of the VKs and the other characters as well. As for pairings, I'm leaning towards Doug/Evie, with some elements of Jay/Evie thrown in, but we'll see how it goes. I might not have pairings at all, so we'll see. I hope you will continue to read and enjoy!
Shots and Giggles: You did catch that? Neat to find another fan of their music. I'm not a super fan, but I definitely enjoy MCR, as well as anything 80s, and bands like P!atD, TOP, relient k, Anberlin, Mumford and Sons, Skillet and Paramore, to name a few. (I know, quite the mash up of tastes, lol!) I'm glad you're enjoying this story, and that you think I'm portraying everything just right. It was part of my hesitation to throw romance into there right away like Disney tends to do, because there does need to be development and adjustments first. Which there will be, so hopefully you'll continue to follow along and enjoy! :)
Alex-pecto patro: Welcome to this story, thank you for leaving a review! Don't worry, I'm not looking to pursue anything romantic with Chad and Carlos, but a reader left a review that inspired me to pursue something with them, so I will be exploring them, but definitely not a romance thing! I'm still exploring all the relationships, but hopefully you'll continue to read and enjoy!
Guest1: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying this story and for the suggestions with pairings. Whatever I decide, I definitely won't be rushing anything. :) I hope you keep reading and enjoying.
Ellen: Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you like this story so much. I wasn't thinking of anything romantic for Jay and Aziz, just a sort of friendship thing, though it would be interesting, I'll say that, lol. I hope you'll continue to follow along and enjoy!
Kalliz89: Welcome to this story and thank you for the review! I'm glad you like this story so much. Hopefully this update is soon enough for you! :)
Yoyo: I definitely plan on having them all meet during Family Day, though I might have some other meetings before then. We'll see how it goes! I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story.
hnjp1234: Hi, thanks for the review! I agree, it is kind of weird seeing the four paired together, but I've also seen some really good fics pairing them together where it works (at least Jay and Evie). But I don't think I'll be doing that for this story as I definitely have them all family here! I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy!
starflight34: Thank you so much! I will certainly do my best! :)
Kris68: That's ok, lol! Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you're so obsessed with this fic! I think you're the second person to say that I focus a bit too much on Carlos, or Carlos and Jay, so I will definitely be taking the suggestions to heart and working on the others a bit more too. ;) I hope you keep reading!
TearOfAngles: Hi, welcome to the story, and thanks for leaving a review! It's funny you mention it, because I recently discovered the ship that is Ben/Carlos, and I have to say, I'm kind of maybe a little bit in love with it. Haha, not for this story though, sadly. But I think that if done right, it really works. Thanks for the suggestions, and I will definitely be keeping up with it. I hope you will keep reading and enjoying!
Delta Orchid: I'm sorry! I hope you can forgive me this grueling wait for the newest chapter! I promise the next one won't be as long in coming. :)
Nik137nvty: Thank you so much for the review and the kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, I had a lot of fun writing that scene! ;) Hopefully you'll continue to read and enjoy!
MakeItShineDiamondKat31111: Yay, I'm glad you're not sick anymore and that you enjoyed the chapter! You're right, the canon is Carlos and Jane, and I found out in the midst of my various research that Carlos and Jane are both actually 14, and so what I thought was an age change for this story is actually acurate, lol! Not sure yet if I'll pair them together, but there will definitely be some relationship there.
Not sure about Carlos and Lonnie, but it's an interesting idea and I appreciate the suggestion! As for Aziz, well, his dad is Aladdin, what can I say? ;)
There will be a resolution for the VKs, don't worry! It just might take some time since they're all pretty stubborn.
GenderqueerWriter: Wow, I'm impressed and flattered at your obsession with this story! Haha, thank you! :)
I've never given a thought to polygamous/polyamorous relationship before, though I am aware of at least one poly-ship within this fandom so far. (At least I've only seen one so far) It's not something I think I could see myself taking part of, at least for this story. And, I've always been a believer in monogamy, personally. (Gay relationships, sure, but polygamy...) Sorry if I've offended or dissapointed! But I do appreciate the suggestion! :)
As for your other suggestions, I'm definitely a fan of Doug/Evie as well, though it would definitely be slow going, especially for what I have planned with this story, but I do think Doug is a good choice for Evie, especially since he can also show her that other things matter than looks/money/position, etc. just by being himself.
And Carlos definitely needs a friend outside of the gang, and even though Aziz is kind of similar to Jay, I feel like Aziz would be the kind of person to really challenge Carlos. And on the flip side, Carlos will be a challenge for Aziz, as well. So there's a balance there.
As for Carlos and Jane, I'll definitely be playing around with it, though at this point, I don't see them as anything more than good friends, and it's because they're so similar and understand each other. If that makes any sense, lol!
I'm glad you enjoy this story so much and I hope you will continue to enjoy all that I have in store! :)
Author's Notes!
I'mma say right off the bat, this chapter is the worst (so far) for language. No joke, I kind of just let loose (or rather, the characters did…) so this chapter definitely earns that High T for language! You have been warned, so I do not want to see any angry mobs forming! (Please)
That aside, this chapter also contains a tiny bit more angst, as well as slight bullying and child abuse. Nothing explicit/graphic, but the abuse is still there and still intense, so be warned. This chapter is also a good bit longer for you, so hopefully you'll enjoy and it'll tide you over until next time.
Ok, enough out of me, I'll leave you to it!
Hope you all enjoy and I look forward to hearing what you think. :)
- Raven
Mal
Mal can count on one hand the number of times she'd had to apologize to someone. It had been four times, and only one of those times had she been sincere. The thought of doing something like that again -of being so open and vulnerable- makes Mal's skin itch. She draws a deep breath and lets it out in a slow hiss, counting each beat in an attempt to remain calm.
It isn't just the apologizing that irritates her; it's that she was apologizing to Jay. Jay, the self-satisfied, smug bastard that he was (and, Mal reasons with a vindictive glee, it isn't insulting if it's the truth); who constantly argued and questioned her leadership. Jay, who had one job, and hadn't even managed that much; who had left, just to throw a tantrum and emphasize his point.
Well, Mal was done with his shit. It was time for her to emphasize her point. She grins in anticipation, shifting her weight enough that she could observe the hallway beyond from the alcove she was tucked in. There's not as many students in the hall now, most of them already in their classes, like the good little boys and girls that they were. Mal rolls her eyes at the thought. She couldn't wait to show them, either.
A familiar silhouette makes its way down the hall towards her, and Mal debates on revealing herself, or remaining hidden. She still isn't sure how to feel about him, but as Ben nears her hiding spot, she can see the tight look on his face; the frown that he's clearly trying to hide judging by the quick smiles he flashes at the few students who notice his presence and greet him. Mal decides to play it safe and ducks further into her alcove, holding her breath as he passes her just to be sure she remains unnoticed.
Ben doesn't even look up, just keeps walking, his frown deepening once eyes are no longer on him. Mal waits until she can no longer hear his footsteps to relax, releasing her pent up breath and shifting her weight to loosen her body. She knows she needs to focus on her own goal, but at the same time, she can't help but wonder what had the Crown Prince of Auradon so upset.
"Probably just found out he won't be getting that third castle he wanted," Mal mutters to herself, amused at the thought.
Her amusement is cut short as she hears another set of footsteps begin to approach; a short, deliberate shuffle to the movement that she recognizes as anger. She also recognizes the footsteps, and the anger is made even more apparent by the whispered cursing she can hear as they get closer. Mal tenses in anticipation and draws a steadying breath as Jay draws closer, but he, too, doesn't look up. She waits until he's almost completely past her before making her move; springing forward silently and grabbing his arm, using his forward momentum against him to swing him back around and into the darkened alcove.
She had counted on there being a bit of a struggle. She hadn't counted on Jay completely turning the table on her. Instead of continuing momentum and allowing himself to be dragged, Jay stops dead; twisting his arm back around hers and spinning them both, grabbing Mal as he did so and slamming her into the wall.
Instinct takes over, blocking out the rational part of her that wants to cry out; to tell him to stop; that it's only her. Crying out like that now would only be a weakness, not an asset in this fight. And, if she's being completely honest (something that is encouraged here, and especially by Fairy Godmother), Mal really, really wants to fight.
She grits her jaw against any further cries that might escape, and jabs her elbow back, angling her thrust to catch him in the face. He throws up his arm and blocks her attack easily, grabbing her own arm and pulling back hard, kicking her leg out from under her and practically throwing her to the ground. Mal grunts once as the air is forcefully evicted from her lungs, rolling to the side to avoid the incoming punch to her face. She's on her feet in the next breath, but doesn't dodge in time, and catches his follow up kick in her side.
It's not hard enough to break, but she knows for a fact it's going to bruise. Mal grimaces, but reacts despite the pain, bringing her arm around his leg and trapping it to her side; lashing out with a sharp blow to his hip. Jay goes down with a hissed: "Mother fuck!" and Mal grins smugly, rocking her weight on her heels as she waits for him to clamber back up.
He isn't playing games anymore, but neither is she. Jay lashes out with a controlled jab to her face, and Mal dodges this time, stepping to the outside of his thrust and retaliating with a punch of her own. She feels it in her wrist when she connects with his jaw, and she sucks a sharp breath as she dances away, shaking out her hand and ignoring Jay's next swear. He's angry now, and that's to her advantage as he rushes his next attack, swinging too wide with his punch and allowing Mal to snap two quick punches at his exposed abdomen.
Jay growls his frustration and kicks out, his long limbs working for his favor this time and catching Mal in the stomach. She doubles over, and opens herself up for another blow, which connects solidly with her back and slams her down to the ground once more.
"Shit," Mal hisses, wincing as her head strikes the tile, causing lights to flash behind her eyes.
"Son of a…Mal!?" She hears Jay hiss from above her, and she blinks against her hazy vision, pushing herself up onto her knees.
"Took you long enough, asshole," Mal mutters, rolling her shoulders and grunting at the dull throb that echoes in her spine.
"Fucking hell, Mal, what were you even thinking?" Jay snaps fiercely, jerking her the rest of the way to her feet and shoving her further into the alcove.
"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" Mal retorts, straightening despite the pain and glaring at him, her eyes flashing violently.
"I'm the shit?" Jay repeats, radiating anger as he stalks forward. "You fucking b-"
"Finish that sentence," Mal snarls, ducking under his thrown punch and striking him hard in the side. "Go on…see how well it works out for you."
"The hell are you doing, Mal?" Jay bites out through gritted teeth, and Mal almost grins again in the knowledge that she had the upper hand in this situation. But she forces the vindictive side of her down, remembering Evie's words; the warning the other girl had given.
"I'm apologizing," Mal states flatly, crossing her arms in an attempt to physically contain herself from hitting him again.
Jay lets out a sharp bark of laughter, punctuating the bitter sound with a vicious blow to the locker behind him. "This is what you call apologizing?"
"I would if you'd let me," Mal snaps back.
"Yeah, I can tell you're really apologetic," Jay replies sarcastically. "I don't know if it's the glowing eyes, or the smoke, but I can just feel your sincerity."
Mal blinks, feeling the slight ache behind her eyes that confirms that they are, in fact, glowing. They hadn't stung like that when glowing since she'd been a child, however, back when she was first learning about her magic. But smoke? She glances down and realizes that her fingers are twitching at her sides, and there's definitely a soft spark forming in her palms.
"Just cut the crap, Mal," Jay grumbles, slipping past her and making for the door.
Mal growls, clenching her hands into fists around the sparks and darting forward, kicking at the back of Jay's knee and causing him to buckle.
"You cut the crap," she retorts, standing her ground as he leaps to his feet and turns on her. "You ever stop to think that maybe, you don't know everything?"
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" he bites out harshly, but Mal refuses to react to his tone.
"It means that I might actually have feelings," Mal responds sharply, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to diminish their glow. "That I might actually be sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Jay counters lowly, his own hands clenching into fists. "Kicking me out of my own room? Taking over everything like you always do? For accusing me of not caring?"
Mal works her jaw against the surge of emotion in her chest, the words that she can feel building up in her throat. She forces them down, switching gears and crossing her arms, leaning back to stare up at him as she responds:
"I was actually going to apologize for that last hit. I'm pretty sure I heard something crack, though that could have just been my hand…"
She trails off with a slight laugh, but Jay scowls fiercely, making a disgusted noise in his throat as he shoves her against the lockers. His face twists, and she braces herself for another hit, but Jay shakes his head instead, backing away and turning back for the door.
Shit, Mal curses herself. Wrong move, very wrong move!
"Damn it, Jay," she calls after him, and he stops, his back to her and fists clenched tightly at his side. "I just…I wasn't…" Fuck it all, why was this so hard?
"You just don't get it, do you?" he says quietly, his voice low and bitter.
"No, I really don't," Mal says with an exasperated sigh. "You know I'm not good with this sort of thing, but I…"
"I wasn't talking about that," Jay snaps, cutting her off.
"Are…are you still on this?" Mal groans, rolling her eyes at his back. "Look, I get it, you were here first and now I'm taking over and screwing everything up."
"Oh, so you do get that much, at least," Jay mutters, whipping around to face her, that hard look still on his face.
"Jay…"
"It was fine!" Jay snaps, his voice almost at shouting level. "It was all fine when it was just me taking care of me; it was what I was good at, it was how I survived. And then it was me and Evie…then Evie and you- and then she found Carlos and suddenly it was me and us."
He pauses then, but Mal doesn't interrupt, remaining silent as she watches him pace a short line. Her eyes had finally stopped glowing, but she could still feel sparks twitching between her fingers. She forces herself to focus on Jay, who draws a shaky breath before continuing.
"Then it was us," he repeats in an undertone. "And I had to survive for us, had to care about more than just me. And I did!" he shoots a quick glare in Mal's direction. "You didn't think I did, but I did."
"I never thought…" Mal starts to protest, but Jay shakes his head sharply, not giving her the chance.
"I was the one who cared," Jay says flatly, his hands unclenching slowly. "You…you were just Maleficent's daughter."
He might as well have struck her. Mal almost wishes he had; at least that pain she could have managed, could have hidden or ignored, at least for a little while. The blow that his words give is like a punch to whatever soul she may or may not actually possess.
"You're right," she chokes out instead, her expression blank; but inside she's doubled over and screaming. "You do care, and you do a hell of a better job showing it than I do."
Jay scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Understatement," he mutters.
It's not much, but it's enough for Mal to find her anger again. She straightens, her eyes flickering green, and even without the sparks she's an intimidating sight.
"You are wrong, though," Mal continues firmly. "To say that I don't care. That I never cared."
"Ha, is that what you called what you did last night? That's what you call caring?"
"I was there," Mal snarls viciously. "I might be shitty with feelings, but at least I was there when I was needed."
"And what do you think I was doing?" Jay retorts. "Just fucking around, as usual?"
"I don't know, and really, it doesn't matter."
"Mm-hm, definitely see the caring now."
"What matters is that we're both where we need to be," Mal replies stiffly, ignoring his sarcasm. "So this thing between us can just stay that way, alright?"
"I take it that was your apology?" Jay asks, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, fine, I'm sorry," Mal says shortly. "Happy?"
"No, not really," he says, his voice pitching slightly with irritation. "You'll say you're sorry, we'll go back to the others and what?" he shrugs, spreading his hands. "You're still just going to focus on the wand, so yeah, what does it really matter?"
"You think I'd be making myself weak like this if it didn't matter?" Mal retorts, but it's nowhere near as sharp as she wants it to be because her throat closes up on her for some reason. "I could have easily just said, 'fuck Jay' and pretended like you didn't exist for however long we're here for."
She pauses to draw a breath, ignoring the way it makes her stomach ache where he had kicked her.
"I could have done that," she says, steadier than before. "But I didn't. I'm here, trying to make some kind of peace because I care about what happens to this team. It's always been about this team for me."
"Now who sounds like the fairytale?" Jay mutters, but his tone is a fraction lighter, and that cocky smirk is twitching at the corner of his lips. "Mal is actually apologizing, I mean, how am I supposed to respond to that?"
"You respond by saying you accept my apology, and promising to get your shit together and get back where you belong," Mal says, letting out a short breath of relief that sounds too much like a sob for her liking.
"Wait, how am I the one who has to get my shit together?" Jay retorts, but he's almost laughing now, and Mal feels a stronger surge of relief for a brief moment until he continues. "And anyway, I don't think I heard a sincere apology."
"No, but I was extremely sincere with my punches," she fires back hastily. "Does that count?"
He laughs then, rubbing at his jaw. "Not for much, but I could definitely tell," he grumbles.
"So could I," Mal says, finally relaxing fully and allowing herself to really take stock of just where everything hurt.
The bell rings in the hall beyond, and they tense, sharing a panicked look that almost immediately dissolves into hushed laughter.
"To think," Mal mutters under her breath as the hall fills with students once more. "That there'd be a time where we actually worried about missing class."
"Or that we'd have a class we cared to miss," Jay adds with another short laugh. "We should probably join the throng, though."
"Yeah," Mal agrees ruefully, scanning the crowd once before slipping easily into the masses. She feels Jay behind her, and pauses in her stride to allow him to catch up.
"I really am sorry, Jay," she says quietly, when he's next to her again. "And I do care, about all of us."
"Yeah, I know," he answers, just as quiet. "Me too. That thing I said about...I can be a dick sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Mal replies with a soft laugh, but there's still a sour taste in her mouth; a pang in her nonexistent soul at the mention of his insult.
Jay scoffs in protest, shoving her with his shoulder and causing her to trip, which makes the students nearby stumble as they rush to get out her way. Mal winces, but recovers smoothly, straightening and giving him a signature, green eyed glare.
"Seriously though," Jay says. "Which class did I miss, because I'm pretty sure I just heard some kid say 'Carlos' a second ago."
"Biology," Mal surmises with a scowl. "He can take care of himself. I know he can. But that teacher…"
"Careful Mal, you're sparking again," Jay says, and she thinks he's teasing until she glances down.
"Fucking…" she trails off as she snaps her hands shut, the sparks dying as easily as they had come.
"Maybe you should skip your next class, too," Jay suggests. "If you're going to start torching everything."
"Carlos is the pyro, not me," Mal snaps back with a smirk. "And anyway, skipping wouldn't be very good of me, now would it?"
"No, not really," Jay agrees. "But I mean, we've done it so far…"
"I don't want to face Evie's wrath any more than I already have to," Mal grumbles, though she secretly wishes she could skip again. She wasn't looking forward to that confrontation nearly as much.
"He's going to be really pissed at me, isn't he?" Jay murmurs, and Mal glances over to see him frowning at the ground, his brows furrowed in worry.
"I doubt it," Mal finds herself trying to reassure him, but she can tell from the look he gives her that he hadn't bought the lie either. Carlos wasn't known for forgiving easily, despite his saying otherwise.
They stop at the center intersection of classrooms and stand by the map as the second bell rings. The flow of students dies down again, and Mal turns and eyes the map to find her next class.
"Right, might as well face the music," she sighs.
"What are the odds the armor can tell you where people are, too?" Jay mutters, glaring at the knight across from them.
"Can't hurt to try," Mal says with a shrug, dancing a bit on the balls of her feet as she braces herself to start running.
"Hey there," Jay says to the knight, sliding over and leaning against the tin suit. "Any chance you know where I can find Carlos de Vil?"
The knight raises its chin in acknowledgement, but remains silent for a moment before its visor lifts and its hollow voice rings out: "The young de Vil is currently located in the library…on the third floor."
"Wait, isn't the library on the second floor?" Jay questions, and the knight takes another moment before answering.
"The Auradon Prep library spans five floors, and is accessible by both stairway and elevator. I would recommend taking the elevator to reach the young de Vil in the timeliest manner."
"Well ok then," Jay replies, a bit taken aback. "Thanks, I guess."
The knight's visor slams shut without another word, and Mal smirks at Jay's mystified expression before jumping as the final warning bell rings above them.
"Shit," she hisses, grimacing at the realization that she might just miss another class after all.
"Go," Jay says, nodding his head at her. "I've got Carlos, and…and we'll figure it out as we go?"
"Yeah," she agrees, nodding back. She takes off down the hallway and hears him do the same behind her; jogging off in the opposite direction towards the nearest elevator.
"Apology accepted, by the way," she hears him call to her as he goes. "Just thought I'd make it official."
"Asshole," Mal mutters under her breath in response, but she can't help the small smile that slips onto her face, regardless.
At least it was settled, anyway. Though Mal would make sure she never had to apologize to anyone again.
Ben
Ben didn't know which feeling was worse; his guilt or his sense of betrayal. The betrayal was certainly winning out at the moment, and he's almost grateful for the sudden appearance of Doug, who rushes up to him with a worried look on his face.
"What's up Doug?" Ben asks, slipping a smile onto his own face and stopping to meet the other boy.
"I was just wondering…if you had seen…one of my books," Doug says, doubling over and huffing out short spurts of air.
"You'll have to be more specific," Ben replies with a chuckle, relief flooding him at this new distraction.
"It's dark blue with vines etched around it," the other boy describes, holding up his hands to indicate the size. "It's my 'Theoretical Potions and Supplements' book, I can't find it anywhere!"
"Calm down," Ben instructs calmly, placing a hand on Doug's shoulder and bringing him upright again. "Take a deep breath."
He waits until the boy is calmer before continuing. "Where did you last have it?"
"I-In my room," Doug manages shakily, adjusting his glasses. "At least, it was the last time I checked."
Ben blinks, caught off guard. He can't help but think that this situation is vaguely familiar, but he doesn't want to jump to any conclusions. "I'll see what I can find out, Doug," he assures with a smile. "But in the meantime, keep retracing your steps, ok?"
"Yeah, ok," Doug agrees, nodding a few times before smiling back. "Thanks Ben."
"No problem," Ben replies easily, seeing Doug off before turning and heading back the way he'd come.
There's no one else in the hallway to distract him as he walks now, and Ben can't help but drift back to his conversation with his parents.
"Is it true that the Isle only gets our garbage?"
The silence that his question brings lasts too long, confirming his fears before his parents even begin their protests.
"What makes you ask that?" comes from his father, while his mother takes a second longer.
"Is everything alright, Ben?"
"No, it's not alright!" he snaps, grimacing as he attempts to reign in his anger. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to know if it's true."
"Well of course it isn't," his Dad blusters on. "They might be villains, but we aren't entirely uncivilized."
"It's just, one of the things I noticed about the Four is that they don't really do food well."
"Translation of 'do food,'" his mother murmurs, and he can tell from her tone that she's trying to relieve the tension.
"It's like they've never had it before," Ben replies, deciding it's best to be blunt. "They were worried yesterday at lunch that they'd get in trouble for eating if no one told them to, and then the way they ate…like they were afraid they'd never eat again."
"I…I see," his mother says softly, her voice breaking.
"And you think this means we're feeding them garbage?" his father's voice is also soft, but Ben can feel the growl behind the words.
"I asked Doug what he thought," Ben answers honestly, but firmly, refusing to back down. "Because I thought it was a bit of a surprise, but he wasn't surprised at all…he said it was probably due to the fact that the Isle only received our leftovers."
"Well," his mother begins lightly. "I can tell it's really upsetting you, because you start talking formally whenever you're trying to control yourself."
"Mom," Ben says shortly, and she sighs.
"Alright, I'll stop trying to lighten things up," she replies. "But Ben, I don't know where the idea of garbage came from. Yes, we do send the Isle our leftovers, but just that; leftovers."
"But then…I mean, why would…?"
"We don't really keep track of it all though," his father says slowly, and Ben grips his phone a little tighter. "There's two main barges: the food drop off, and then the drop off for any old, used or broken materials."
"Ok," Ben says hesitantly. This was all new to him, and he didn't want to miss a detail. "What sort of materials?"
"Well, anything, really," his father answers, and Ben can hear the slight scoff that tells him his Dad didn't think this was as important as Ben did. "Fabric that was discolored or ripped; faded leather; any technology unused in the past few years, broken furniture; that sort of thing."
"And the food?" Ben asks quietly. "How often do we send food over?"
He hears a slow intake of breath on the other line, that soft sucking sound his Dad does when he's 'thinking.'
"Dad," Ben prods. "When does the food barge go out?"
"It's a monthly system," his mother answers him, her voice low.
"Monthly?" Ben repeats sharply, then winces, biting his tongue to keep future outbursts to himself.
"Yes, monthly," his father's voice is stern, and Ben bites his tongue a little harder. "We collect the majority of non-perishable items from the leftovers at the school, as well as any 'donations' we receive from the kingdom."
"Define 'majority,'" Ben manages jerkily. "And 'donations,' while we're at it."
"Ben," his mother cautions, but his father is already defining, however loosely.
"We gather anything the kingdom decides to give up: things that break or are otherwise dysfunctional, and if they choose to, it goes to the Isle. As for the food, it's not so refined; we try for cans, mostly, since glass containers can be turned into weapons, if they survive the journey over."
"And what else besides cans?" Ben asks, trying for calm. "What other 'non-perishables' do they get? And, you said 'majority,' but clearly somethings are slipping through cracks."
"Like I said," his father says with a sigh. "It's not a refined system. We do what we can, but really, it wouldn't surprise me if there were slips."
"And that doesn't bother you?" Ben snaps, abandoning reigning himself in. "They really could be eating garbage then, for all you know!"
It hits him before his father even says it, and it's enough to make Ben physically sick.
"They're villains, Ben. It's what they are on that Island for; it's what they deserve."
Nearing the dorms, Ben is reminded once again of just why he'd felt so guilty, as he spies the staircase that led to rooms 13 and 17. This was what he was part of; what he had been a part of for so long, without even knowing it. He was surrounded by people who thought that very same way; that those on the Isle were evil and just getting what they deserved. But he knew that wasn't true; he could see it wasn't true in the four that he had now. Well, he could sort of see it. That thing with the knife though…
Ben grimaces, shaking his head as he climbs the opposite staircase to the dorm beyond. He would make this work; he'd prove them all wrong. They would see…hopefully. But for now, he had to focus on finding Doug's book. He straightens as he reaches the door he had been looking for, the number 40 marking the wood, drawing a steadying breath before knocking.
"It's open!"
Ben turns the handle, but the door doesn't budge, and he frowns, knocking again.
"I said...damn it!"
"Um, excuse me?" Ben calls back, a bewildered laugh escaping him.
"No, not you…hang on…shit!"
Ben blinks, backing away as the door jars in its frame before swinging open, revealing a haggard looking Aziz, his curls hanging half in his face as he leans against the door.
"Sorry," Aziz says sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair and sweeping it off to one side. "Come in."
"Sure," Ben replies slowly, stepping over the fallen lamp in the entryway.
"What can I help you with today, Your Majesty?" Aziz asks with a grin, while Ben stops just inside the door, frozen in shock.
The room is, the put it simply, a mess. Books are pulled off the shelves lining the walls, the drawers in the back dresser pulled out or overturned onto the floors. And then there's the bed; the mattress pulled from the frame and sheets yanked haphazardly from the surface.
"Is everything ok Aziz?" Ben questions back, eyeing the room again before turning back to the other boy, whose smile falters a bit before resuming.
"Oh, this?" Aziz says with a laugh that Ben instantly recognizes as fake. "Nothing; thought I'd do some redecorating."
"You graduate this year," Ben reminds him, lifting a brow.
"Yeah," Aziz agrees, his eyes flickering. "What better time?"
"Aziz…"
"So, what did you need, Ben?" the other boy cuts in, rubbing his hands together in a gesture of glee. "It's gotta be something big, right?"
And that's how Ben really knows something's wrong. Aziz never called him by his name; even when they were younger, it was always some kind of 'royal' nickname. He'd been 'Young Prince' for all of last year, and had graduated to variations editions of 'Your Highness' all through this year; his coronation year.
"Not too big," Ben says, deciding to play along, at least for now. "Doug can't find one of his books, and I was just wondering…gosh, that sounds awful."
"No, go on please," Aziz replies, indicating with his hand for Ben to continue. "We were just getting to the part where you beat around the bush to avoid asking if I had anything to do with its disappearance."
"Aziz," Ben says shortly, frowning at the other boy.
"Sorry, too much? Too much." Aziz chuckles quietly, but Ben can see his eyes roaming around the bedroom, taking stock of everything in it.
"What is it?" Ben asks, and the other boy starts, glancing up at him in surprise. "What's bugging you?"
"Nothing," Aziz answers hastily, turning his gaze back to his destroyed room. "I can't find the lighter Dad sent me…stupid, really." He shakes his head and tries for another smile. "I'm always losing stuff, it's why he didn't want to send it at first."
Ben can feel how much the lighter means to the other boy, and he's about to offer a condolence when it suddenly occurs to him.
"Wait, Aziz," he says hesitantly. "You don't smoke?" His confusion turns his words into a question, and seems to amuse Aziz, as his smile turns a bit more genuine.
"Sure I don't," he agrees amiably, nodding at Ben.
"But...you don't smoke on school grounds, though. Right?" Ben has to ask.
Aziz's smile widens, turning mischievous as he brings a finger up to his lips. "Sshh," he hisses in response, and Ben shakes his head in wonder.
"Aziz…"
"Anyway," Aziz says, cutting short any attempt Ben might have made to scold the other boy. "You didn't come to me about a missing lighter, you came about a missing book, which I know nothing about."
"Yeah, but about the lighter…." Ben tries again.
"Mm, the one no longer in my possession," the other boy insists. "I do not currently have it, and until I find it…technically speaking, of course…it would be unfair to punish me for a crime I have not yet committed. Technically."
"I…just…just tell me what you know about Doug's book," Ben sighs in resignation, running his hands down his face.
"Well, I don't have it, if that helps," Aziz replies easily, slowly moving to reorganize his room. "I don't think…I borrowed a few things from people, so, it might be here."
"Also going to need to talk about the borrowing," Ben mutters, picking up the fallen lamp before moving to pull the bed back into place.
"What," Aziz protests with a laugh. "I give it back."
Ben shoots him a look, which Aziz shakes off with a shrug. "Most of the time. Half the time, I honestly forget I even borrowed stuff."
Ben sighs, and moves to the bookshelf, glancing at each title before shoving them onto the shelf. Aziz stuffs the last of the mess into the closet and stands, offering Ben a hand and helping him up.
"Any luck?" he asks, and Ben shakes his head.
"No," he replies slowly. "Look's like Doug's 'Theoretical Potions and Supplements' book is going to be harder to find."
"Really?" Aziz scoffs, lifting a brow skeptically. "Potions and Supplements? What, is he planning on brewing something?"
"Magic and stuff like that interests him," Ben defends. "And anyway…"
"Wait," Aziz interrupts, holding up a hand and frowning. "It's a potion book? Like, with ingredients and actual stuff like that?"
"I mean, it's only theory, but, yeah. Why?"
"Remember the lab? Doug might not be planning on brewing anything…but someone else is."
Jay
Jay didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see home. He knew he didn't have any right to call it that; it wasn't his home, it was his Dad's. But still, the run down, one story building was a welcome sight to the boy, and he eagerly scrambled over the half-broken wall that served as the back entrance to the building. His feet touched down on threadbare rug, and he let out a short sigh of relief. He was home. He was safe- from Maleficent, at least. The boy shuddered at the thought of the dragon woman, and her threat that still rang in his ears.
"Jayden!"
Shit.
"Just got in, Dad," he called back, wincing as the front door slammed, the wood echoing dully in the frame.
"Well what are you doing in the house?" his father grumbled from the other room. "Come into the shop."
To the untrained observer, Jafar's voice would sound disgruntled, or perhaps mildly amused at his son's presence. But Jay was not untrained, and he was able to recognize the words, and the tone for what it is. It's a threat, a warning and a command all at once, and Jay shivered again as he padded obediently into the front of the house which served as the shop.
The only divider was the red silk curtain strung up in the doorway, the bottom shredded and stained with what Jay always thought was blood, despite his father's insistence that it was ink. Valuable things like silk wouldn't have been shipped to the Isle if it weren't damaged in some way, and the shredded hem and stain was clearly damage. As were most of the items in the shop. Shelves lined all four walls, although several cases were missing panels; every available surface filled with various goods.
Anything from clothes, to food to furniture, Jafar's shop was the place to look first. There were a small handful of shops on the Isle, but only Jafar's was so well stocked. It was one of Jay's talents he took pride in, as he eyed the array of lamps on one shelf. He was the real reason the shop was running so well, not his Dad's sales techniques. Speaking of….
Jafar stood at the far end of the shop, his back to Jay as he surveyed one of the bookshelves that contained weapons. The top half had been hollowed out, the shelves otherwise in use, so that longer items, such as swords or bows, could hang from pegs hammered into the wood. But Jafar was eyeing the smaller shelf, just below the swords; the one that usually stocked knives and poisons, and Jay suddenly realized why he'd been called in.
Fuck, the boy thought frantically. He was dead. So, so dead.
"Jay," his Dad drawled again, once he was fully in the room. "Remind me again, how many knives I've sold this week."
Despite the question clearly being rhetorical, Jay still paused a moment to think, desperately racking his brains for anything to save him. There had been two customers who'd been interested in buying a knife, but the number of people who'd actually bought a knife…
"None," Jay managed shakily, fidgeting anxiously with the knife tucked securely in the back of his pants.
"What was that?" his Dad murmured, cupping an ear, his eyes glinting darkly as he turned to face Jay with a smile. "Sorry, old age has way of playing tricks on you."
"You're not that old," Jay mumbled obligingly.
"The knife, Jay," his Dad snapped, dangerous suddenly as his smile became a scowl, his shining just a bit more. "Did I sell any this week?"
"No," Jay answered timidly, but then quickly straightened, forcing himself to meet his Dad's gaze. "No one bought a knife this week," he said. If there was anything Jafar hated, aside from Jay, of course, it was weakness. Jay wasn't weak, even if he was terrified.
"Not a single one?" his Dad repeated, and Jay nodded slowly, his grip on the knife tightening. "Then I must have simply…misplaced one, is that what you mean to say?"
"No," Jay denied quietly. "I didn't say that."
A brow lifted on Jafar's face, but it was anything but confusion. Jay swallowed hard, refusing to break eye contact as his Dad took a slow step toward him.
"But, if I didn't sell it, and it wasn't misplaced, then…the only other option is that it was stolen. Is that what you're trying to tell me, Jay?"
Jay noted the stress of his Dad's choice of words; the way his voice pitched slightly in innocence. He was trying to give Jay a way out, but he recognized the manipulation for what it was, and he grit his jaw and ignored the little boy inside; the one that wanted to confess and cry, beg for forgiveness- for mercy. Mercy was for the weak, and Jay wasn't weak. Not anymore.
"Jay?" his Dad asked again, his voice just a little tighter. "Is that what you're telling me; my knife was stolen?"
"Yes."
He watched the flicker of surprise that passed through his Dad's eyes; but only his eyes, and only for a second. He was, after all, a master of masks.
"And, do you know who stole my knife, Jayden?"
Jay nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. He didn't trust his voice, didn't trust himself why was he doing this why? He forced his panicked thoughts aside, gripping the knife until he was sure the hilt would leave an imprint on his skin. If this failed, his Dad was going to kill him. He was going to kill him this wasn't how it was supposed to go!
His Dad caught the significance behind his gaze, and his face twisted sharply in anger before transforming again, becoming a mocking impression of grief.
"I'm disappointed in you, son," he said softly, and Jay flinched in spite of himself.
He was never 'son.' Either 'Jay' or 'Jayden' or sometimes, strangely, 'brother.' But 'son'…'son' meant….
"Stealing, I have taught you, true. But to think that you would turn on me," his Dad let out a quiet, self-depreciating laugh that was betrayed by the dark look in his eyes. "Clearly I've gone wrong somewhere."
His hands moved all while he spoke, slowly untying the thick coil of leather from his belt, and Jay stiffened at the sight of it. He could feel a tremor begin to overtake his body and he shifted his weight in an attempt to hide it. He wasn't weak. He would never be weak again, never beg again. Never feel….
"Put it back, Jay," his Dad continued in that grieved tone, his eyes sharp. "Now, son."
"I don't have it," Jay choked on the words, his own eyes glued to the whip that curled around his Dad's ankle.
"Then you will retrieve it and return it to its place," his Dad said stiffly, abandoning his sorrowful pretense in favor of anger.
Jay inclined his head once, almost grateful for the excuse to leave. Not fleeing, though, he reminded himself as he shifted his weight to do just that. No, he wasn't running, he wasn't a coward.
"After," his Dad hissed, as though reading his mind, and the hand that held the whip twitched at his side.
Jay openly flinched then, his throat closing up as his heart began to hammer violently in his chest as his Dad took another step forward.
Don't beg don't beg, don't you dare beg.
"Hands on the wall, Jay," his Dad instructed with a curl of his lip, like he could sense Jay's weakness. "And if you don't want me to rip through that vest, I suggest you take it off."
It wasn't disgust, Jay realized as he slowly undid the buttons of his vest. No, while the slight curl of his lip might have indicated some kind of scorn, the look in his eyes suggested something else entirely. He was enjoying this, the sadistic fuck. The rebellious thought was enough to null Jay's fear, allowing anger and a twisted sort of courage to fill him instead. His fingers brushed against the knife as he slid his vest back and down his arms, and the touch reminded him of his previous goal; the reason why he'd stolen the knife in the first place.
"Jay," his Dad said again, a clear warning in his tone.
Jay straightened and forced himself to remain firm, calm as he gripped the knife behind his back and stared back at his Dad….No, no he wasn't that. His father, no, not even that, not anymore; not ever. Jafar...yeah, that was it. That's all he was to Jay now.
"No," Jay said firmly, reveling in the way Jafar visibly faltered.
"No?" the man repeated, and Jay slid the knife an inch out of its scabbard.
"No," he affirmed, straightening further in attempt to appear taller and older than his 13 years. "I'm not going to let you beat me anymore…you're not going to beat me again."
"Insolent brat!" Jafar snarled, his shock wearing off as he stalked towards Jay with whip upraised.
But Jay had meant what he said. He jerked the knife completely free from its scabbard, taking the first blow across the face and dodging the second. He jerked his arm up as he did so, catching the whip and letting the leather wrap around his wrist, grimacing determinedly when it bit deep into his skin. He snapped his arm back, pulling Jafar forward and lifted the knife, stopping just shy of cutting the man's throat.
To say that Jafar was surprised, didn't come close to describing the look on his face. Jay grit his own jaw, trying not to smile victoriously. He had to stay calm, stay cool like the snake he was. He stared Jafar down, realizing with belated glee that he was almost taller than the man.
"I learned a few things being out on the streets so much," Jay bragged darkly, allowing the smallest trace of a smile to slip across his face. But it came out closer to a wince, as he waited for the inevitable outburst.
Jafar's outburst came as a sharp, wheezing laugh, so loud and sudden it made Jay jump. The knife slipped from his fingers and thudded to the floor, but Jafar continued to laugh, arching backwards on his heels and cackling to the rafters.
"So it would seem!" he huffed out, before laughing again.
To say that Jay was terrified would also be an understatement. The boy released his hold on the whip and staggered back, his mouth falling open slightly in shock. He understood, suddenly, how some might say that Jafar was insane. He'd never seen such a drastic shift in the man's behavior and expression before. Jafar was a master of masks and disguises, true but this- there was no warning, no subtle sign. Just…madness.
"Well, son," Jafar murmured, still chuckling as he straightened slowly. "You've certainly surprised me."
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fucking fuck.
Jay felt his bravado drain from his body, his legs threatening to buckle as Jafar began to stalk forward once more.
Dad.
"Really, I'm almost proud."
Please…
"I'm sorry," Jay rasped, the sound barely making it past his lips.
Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why why please don't please don't!
"Oh I know son," Jafar crooned softly, the whip lashing out and causing Jay to scream the words; curling against the wall in a vain attempt to shield himself.
"I know."
Jay
Jay could understand, walking to the library, just what Mal had meant when she said her apologizing made her weak. He didn't begrudge her the task, though he had enjoyed dragging it out and making her uncomfortable. He hadn't enjoyed the bruises that accompanied it, however; though Jay had had worse apologies- namely, ones that he had delivered. The scars from his last apology still itched from time to time, and that had been five years ago.
A turning point, Jafar had called it.
Jay works his jaw as he tries to shove those memories to the back of his mind. He was apologizing to Carlos, not Jafar. Which made the task infinitely harder because Jay actually cared about Carlos.
"I got this," Jay mutters to himself as he nears the elevator. "Simple: 'I know I was being a jerk earlier, but I won't let it happen again.'"
'Yeah, you've said that before, too,' a dark voice hissed in his mind. 'It didn't work out so great.'
Jay grimaces, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and eyeing the metal doors before him warily. He assumed, from the sign hanging overhead that they were the 'elevator' in question, but they didn't look like anything that could swing open, and doors didn't even have a handle.
"Fuck kind of door is this?" Jay grumbles, glaring at the contraption. Why did they have to make things so complicated here?
He was tempted to just use the stairs, but he didn't really like the idea of running up three flights if this thing was supposed to be faster. And anyway, the suit of armor had said he needed to reach Carlos 'in a timely manner,' causing a flicker of panic inside as he worries just why he needed get there so fast.
The soft clicking of heels interrupts Jay's frantic thoughts, and he looks up to see that pretty Chinese girl- what was her name? Linette? Something like that- exiting a nearby classroom. Jay straightens as the idea strikes him, but then he frowns, hating himself for the very thought. He didn't need help; he wasn't weak…he could figure it out.
Jay steps towards the metal doors, shaking out his arms before wedging his fingers between the center crack, grunting as he pulled the doors away from each other. They made it about an inch before slamming closed again, and Jay hisses out a curse as he staggers back from the doors. He whirls desperately around to see that the girl is almost to the end of the hall, and he kicks the elevator in frustration before calling out:
"Hey, you! Uh, L-Linette?"
The girl jerks to a stop, turning and staring at him as though he had insulted her. "Lonnie," she says slowly, drawing out her name in a way that tells Jay he clearly should know it.
"Yeah, Lonnie," Jay murmurs sheepishly, glancing away before bringing his gaze back to her. "Um, do you think you could…? I mean…would….uh…"
'Smooth.'
He trails off, grimacing at how pathetic he sounds. Different tactic: Jay straightens, tossing his hair out of his face and giving the girl his infamous sideways grin.
"Any chance you'd like to accompany me to the library?" He asks, dropping his voice to a level that always made girls swoon.
Lonnie glances around the empty hall before turning back to him, and Jay can't quite read the expression on her face. It's something like a coy smile, but he has the strange feeling that she's laughing at him.
"And why would I want to do that?" she asks slowly, cocking her head slightly.
Jay falters once again, caught off guard by her lack of reaction. Girls always reacted to his charms. He glances back up to see that she was still staring at him with that weird look.
"You don't know how to work the elevator, do you?" she says, raising an eyebrow at him.
"No," Jay admits in an undertone, slightly embarrassed. "But I'm a fast learner," he salvages, winking at her with another grin.
She still doesn't respond, other than a quiet sigh, and walks over to the elevator doors. "See this button in the wall?" she asks, pointing at the wall before them.
Jay blinks, but follows her hand, eyeing the small button attached to the wall "Yeah," he drawls, wondering what that had to do with anything.
"Click up if you need to go to the floor above, and click down to the floor underneath," she says. "Since we're on the first floor, this button only clicks up."
"Then what?" Jay asks, losing his seductive tone in his curiosity. "Does the place you want to go transport around you? Or do you get magically transported there?"
Lonnie blinks a moment, her mouth opening and closing silently as she stares at him. Then she catches herself, shaking her head and sighing again. "Just watch," she instructs, clicking the button.
A soft chime rings out, and the metal doors slide apart, and Jay would be lying if he said it didn't startle him. He recovers smoothly, and steps into the small space, pausing when he realizes Lonnie isn't following him.
"The key pad to your left," she says, at his questioning look. "It's numbered 1 to 5…just click the number that corresponds to the floor you want to go to."
"Third floor library," Jay informs, and she motions to the buttons again. He clicks the button labeled '3,' and that hollow chime rings out as the doors begin to close slowly.
"Thanks," Jay calls to Lonnie, grinning at her through the closing space. "Maybe I'll catch you around again, sometime."
She snorts softly, and smiles that strange coy smile again. "Yeah, maybe."
Then the doors close completely, and the elevator begins to move, almost floating as it carries Jay up.
"She's totally into me," Jay murmurs to himself, chuckling as he watches the light on the elevator change.
'Yeah, keep telling yourself that, asshole.'
He ignores the voice in his head and tries to bring his focus back on Carlos as the elevator chimes once more, sliding to a stop. The doors open, and Jay steps out into the third floor of the library, something instinctive telling him his safety lay in staying quiet. He creeps along, eyeing the rows of books warily and searching for any sign of his white-haired friend.
He finally spots Carlos, towards the back of the library, leaning against one of the walls. Jay breathes a quiet sigh and relaxes, straightening and moving towards the other boy with only a hint of doubt.
"Hey, Carlos," Jay calls in a silent greeting as he nears, but he stops when he notices that Carlos isn't leaning against the wall; he's cowering against it. The other boy snaps his eyes over at the sound of Jay's voice, his face twisting in a mix of anger and fear.
Jay tenses instantly, a cold feeling settling in his gut. Carlos was afraid…of him? Jay's stomach sinks, and he takes a small step forward, but Carlos presses himself further against the wall and jerks his head in a short motion.
"Carlos," Jay pleads softly, his voice breaking halfway through. "I'm sorry, alright? I get that you're pissed at me, but…."
"Shut. Up." Carlos hisses, his own voice barely a squeak.
Then that instinct part of Jay kicks in, and he realizes that it's not him that Carlos is afraid of, it was something just behind him. Jay tenses even further, but doesn't whirl around and face the thing like he wants to. Instead, he forces himself to stay calm, and takes a half step closer to Carlos, turning his body sideways so he could see. It takes him a second to realize what he's looking at, because it's half hidden by a row of books, but when he does, Jay understands Carlos' fear.
It's a dog.
A large dog, actually, though he had nothing to compare it to. It doesn't seem to notice Jay at all, the thing's large eyes locked firmly on Carlos.
"Oh, fuck," Jay whispers under his breath, racking his brains desperately for a way out of this.
Ok, think, he snaps to his brain. What do we know about dogs? Only what Carlos knows, which is only what Cruella tells him, so take any info with a grain of salt. Ok, but what?
Dogs, otherwise known as four legged devils. Ranging in size from as small as a cup to as big as a full grown man. Regardless of size, all dogs were vicious and bloodthirsty, able to sense emotion; especially fear. Hunt in packs, and once they've locked onto a prey, will chase it relentlessly and without mercy.
And this particular dog-all white and covered in spots, had locked its sights on Carlos. Jay thinks that of course, it's only fitting, but he doesn't dare say it out loud. The dog takes a step forward, and Jay sucks in a breath while Carlos flinches, pressing even further against the wall.
"Carlos, come to me," Jay whispers, as the dog cocks a head at the other boy.
Carlos shoots Jay a look, and despite his fear, Jay can read it quite well. Carlos would rather risk the dog than be with Jay. The dog, which lets out a soft bark, lowering its front half to the ground and wagging its tail rapidly.
"What does that mean?" Jay asks in a frantic hiss, darting an anxious glance at Carlos.
"H-how should I kn-n-n-now?!" Carlos growls back, his words barely making it past his clenched lips.
Jay wants to retort that he was the so-called dog expert, but decides against it as the dog lets out another soft bark. He'd seen similar crouches from the few cats on the Isle (the ones who didn't get caught and eaten, that is) and knew enough to assume that the dog was getting ready to pounce. He had to act fast, but sudden movements would surely make this situation worse.
"Look," Jay murmurs to Carlos, who was still trying to melt into the wall. "You can be mad at me all you want, I don't care. But for right now, just get over here, ok?"
"Fffuck you," Carlos snaps shakily in response, his lip curling briefly before he grits his jaw shut again.
"Damn it, Carlos!" Jay hisses, but then the dog moves again, bounding forward and poking its nose into Carlos' leg, which makes the other boy flinch so hard that it startles the dog, which yelps before coming at him again.
"Hey, you," Jay calls at the dog, sheer desperation driving him to insanity. "Hey doggie, over here!"
The dog turns to Jay and cocks its head, its tail wagging slowly back and forth.
"W-w-w-hat are you ddoing?!" Carlos yelps, but Jay ignores him, bracing himself and extending a hand to the animal.
"Yeah, that's right, fur brain, over here," he coaxes. "Nice killing machine...good devil spawn."
"Jay!" Carlos whimpers, and his cry is enough to catch the dog's attention once again.
"Fuck damn it," Jay groans, as the dog pokes at Carlos a bit more insistently, licking at the boy's knee with a slimy pink tongue.
Jay is all set to charge in and physically wrestle the dog away when a girl's voice calls out:
"There you are, Pongo!"
Another boy's voice rings out just behind hers, anger in the tone: "Hey, you, get away from him!"
The boy appears first, stopping just past the row of shelves and snapping his fingers sharply. "Pongo, heel," he commands, though his voice shakes almost as much as Carlos.'
The dog whimpers, licking Carlos' knee again before running to the boy and sitting next to his feet, tail still wagging. Carlos buckles against the wall, breathing hard, and Jay moves quickly, darting forward and catching him before he can hit the ground.
"Deep breaths, Carlos," Jay encourages, supporting the younger boy's weight until he gets his feet under him again.
"I swear," the new comer continues sternly, or at least, would be stern if he weren't so pale. "If you've done anything to hurt Pongo…."
"Listen asshole," Jay snaps back, but he's interrupted by the arrival of the girl, who squats down to pet the dog, fawning over it exaggeratingly.
"There you are, you crazy dog, you," she coos to the dog before straightening and glaring at the boy. "I told you it was a bad idea to bring him to the library."
"Yeah, well if I'd known he was going to be here, I wouldn't have suggested it, Amy," the boy snaps back, jerking his head in Carlos' direction.
He's about an inch or two taller than Carlos, though still significantly shorter than Jay, who uses it to his advantage as he stalks forward. He's beaten to the punch by the girl, who slaps the boy on the arm and frowns at him.
"'He' has a name, Richard," she scolds, though she casts a wary eye in Carlos' direction all the same. "And anyway, nothing happened, so…"
"But it could have happened!" Richard insists, glaring daggers at Carlos. "He's as crazy as his mother; who knows what he'd have done to Pongo if we hadn't gotten here first?"
"What Carlos would have…how about what your mutt would have done to him?" Jay growls, stalking forward once more.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the other boy snaps.
"Jay," Carlos murmurs behind him, but Jay ignores him.
"I'm talking about that thing, jumping at Carlos and attacking him," Jay hisses.
"He was probably just trying to play," the girl, Amy, says, brushing a lock of auburn hair out of her face. "He can be a bit enthusiastic, though."
"That's what you call playing?"
"Jay."
Jay stops, turning to face Carlos, who's glaring at him fiercely, his jaw set and drawing his face into a hard mask. The emotion is all there in his eyes, however, and Jay sucks in his breath at the sheer amount of hate and anger directed at him. It's the betrayal underneath it all that really hits him, and he forces himself to keep his mouth shut and not spew out everything he wants to say.
The girl clears her throat quietly, and Jay turns slowly back to face her and the other boy.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot," she says, and somehow manages a smile. "I'm Amelia Radcliffe, and this is my significantly more annoying twin; Richard."
"Just because we were born at the same time doesn't make us twins," Richard huffs, in an aggrieved tone that makes Jay think he's said those words a lot.
"It does," Amelia says firmly, glaring at her brother before turning back to them with a smile. "And this is Pongo." She indicates the dog at their feet. "Well, Pongo Jr. Jr. Jr, really."
"It's just Pongo," Richard informs them in an undertone. "And anyway, it's not something you need to worry about because you're not. Touching. Him."
These words are directed at Carlos, and Jay wants to punch the bratty kid, but Carlos stalks forward and glares at the boy, effectively shutting him up.
"I d-d-don't care about your st…upid dog," he growls, and even though half of the words stick in his throat, Jay has to admit he sounds pretty badass.
Richard thinks so, too, because he falters, backing away a step and grabbing onto his dog's collar. "Well," he says, trying for bravery. "Good, because you're not turning him into clothes."
"If you're so-so-so-so worried," Carlos bites out. "Wwhy don't you g-go?"
The boy looks affronted, but he lifts his chin and storms past them and into the elevator, which chimes dully before taking him away. Amelia sighs, shaking her head at him, grabbing hold of the dog and giving Carlos a smile that was more like a grimace.
"Sorry about him," she murmurs, sheepishly. "Um, but thanks for not punching him…or, well," she glances nervously down at her dog before giving another smile/grimace. "Thanks."
She hurries off after her brother, whistling nervously as she waits for the elevator to come back up. Then she shuffles inside, and with barely a wave, chimes off as well.
"Good riddance," Jay huffs, glaring after the elevator. "Can you believe…?"
"Y-y-you should ggo too," Carlos says, his voice cold as he sets his face again.
"Carlos," Jay tries again, reaching a hand out to grip the other boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, alright? I know I was..."
"It's nnnot alright!" Carlos snaps, jerking away from Jay's touch. "You..." He cuts himself short, turning sharply and completely closing himself off to Jay. "J-just go."
"If that's what you want," Jay rasps quietly, his voice thick as something breaks inside him.
Carlos doesn't respond, his body stiff, and Jay backs away, blindly clicking the button to the elevator. It's only as the doors begin to close that Carlos lifts his head, and Jay desperately leans forward, a vain hope filling him.
"It's w-what you're good at, an-anyway."
The elevator doors slide shut then, and Jay thinks that the chime is mocking him with the way it rings out; so bright and cheery. And yet, at the same time...hollow.
Sorry, did I say a tiny bit of angst? I meant a lot more angst.