It's Only True in the Stories

by RvnsDsks

When the Villain Kids arrive at Auradon Prep, Ben and his friends noticed there was something definitely wrong. When they go to Fairy Godmother with their fears, she decides to help them figure out the truth- but no one is quite prepared for just what truths their search uncovers. - Full Summary Inside! Story adopted from Lightning-Lex372. Rated M for later content.

35. What wonderful caricatures of intimacy

Hey guys!

I know it's been a while, but I promised not to give up on this story and I meant it. Just have a lot going on with classes and family stuff but I am back now with another heart wrenching chapter for you all to enjoy/cry over. ;)

Let's get to the reviews, shall we? As always, warning will be in the Author's Notes!

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FlatFox: Ramble all you want! It's how I know you really enjoyed it, when it's so good you can't get your thoughts together, lol. I'm glad you enjoyed my character interpretations, despite the cliff hanger, and I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy!

Nyehhhh: Thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed and are still enjoying this story, even if it takes some time in between updates. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter just as much. :)

EvietoyourMal: It's soo weird watching the movies again without him. Still haven't seen D3 yet, but probably will tomorrow, but I went back and rewatched D1 & D2 and it just felt surreal each time he came on screen. But also kind of bittersweet, just seeing how much love he had for what he was doing and just knowing that he was putting his whole soul into it. That's all we can ever hope to do in life is just put all of ourselves into something that we'll leave behind for others. Wow, I didn't mean for this to get so emotional, haha.

It is good to be back and updating, and I'm glad you're enjoying all of the developments I've been doing and I hope you'll continue to follow along and enjoy!

Tiredandlazy: Lazy! I never don't scream every time I see your name pop up with a review. Legit, every time, just happy flailing and incoherent screeches, lol. (here I go again.)

I saw that same pic of Cameron, though I saw it after the fact, unfortunately. He was one of those people that you look at as so big for the world, if that makes any sense. Like just their presence and their spirit…world changing. It's always those people that we tend to lose early, but his spirit is still impacting the world in his family and friends and in the foundation and everything he left behind. Hopefully a little bit in this story, too, but I feel weird saying that, like I have no true claim over his influence, not in the same way as those who were actually close to him…..

Anyway. Emotions aside, sort of. I'm super glad you liked the chapter, and everything I'm doing with the characters and story. You can totally come and grovel for answers anytime in my PMs, and I will entirely fall for it and spill the entire guts of the story for you, lol. ;) Also no matter how long a fanfiction vacation I take I will always come back and I will never not be able to make sense of your ramblings, Lazy.

As for plans, well, the best laid plans are done in secret, so they say. But 'wherest is Dude' is a question I've been meaning to answer for a long time, and I will tell you (he is herest ;p) I'ma have to PM you the rest though, cuz otherwise I'll have a whole essay and you'll never get to the chapter, lol. Hope you enjoy, Lazy!

BlueMoon007: I have not, in fact, forgotten this story. Just life and time got a hold of me, but I am back and I'm glad you're still enjoying this story, and I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy! :)

Heroesofolympuslover: Love the username! ;) Welcome to this story and thanks so much for your kind words and the review! I'm really glad you're enjoying this story so much, and thank you for the suggestion. It's something I've seen done a bit in other fics, though I wanted to go for something a bit different for this story, and it's an arc that I'm already working through with other characters. But I do appreciate the thought, and I hope you'll continue to follow along and enjoy!

IMakeTheMonsters: Hello, and welcome to the story! Thank you so much for leaving a review! It really means a lot to hear that you enjoy my writing so much and that you like what I'm doing with the world. I felt like the premise was just so interesting and unheard of, and was looking forward to the idea of tackling some big issues like child abuse and neglect and some of the grittier aspects of life, and while I love the films we got, I definitely was looking for some darker Disney.

But that's what fanfiction is for, right? Lol, I'm glad you're enjoying this story and I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy!

A2: Always good to hear from you, A! I'm really glad you're still following along and still enjoying this story! Thank you too, for your kind words regarding my writing and the characters. Every time I do a POV shift I always worry about the overall tone/feel of the story as the movie kind of tends to stick with Mal's POV throughout, and I was afraid that adding too many voices to the mix might cause a quality issue. But I'm glad that doesn't seem to be the case, lol.

I hope you will continue to read and enjoy! :)

Sunny: Hello and welcome back the story, I should say, haha. I'm glad you rediscovered this and that you're still enjoying it, and everything I'm doing with the characters. I still plan on following certain aspects of the movie plot, though my characterization of Chad is something I wanted to do since I saw the movie, lol. I just felt he would have had way too much experience dealing with this sort of thing given his mother's backstory and so I've been having a lot of fun transforming him in particular, and I'm glad you're enjoying it too.

Hopefully you will continue to follow along and enjoy!

Guest 7: Is this soon enough for you? Lol, thank you for the review and kind words! I'm really glad you're enjoying this story so much despite the angst, haha. I hope you'll continue to read and enjoy!

Guest 1: Something about your comment both touched me and made me laugh out loud. Just the idea that this fic was somehow worth reading by the pool, and also just picturing someone reading this angst filled mess by a pool, haha. I'm honored, really, and I hope you will continue to read and enjoy this story in a variety of locations! ;)

jayjayjayjay7: Thank you so much for the review and the enthusiasm, lol. I'm really glad you're enjoying this story so much. As for ending relationships, well, I'm planning on loosely following the movie relationships, but with some twists, as I'm sure you've noticed. ;) I don't want to spoil anything by giving too much away, but just know that I do have plans! :)

Guest 2: Well I certainly don't want to kill anyone, so here *wafts the new chapter in your direction like a perfume* No need to die on me now. ;)

lovethisstory: Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoy this story so much! Here is a new update to keep you going. ;)

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Author's Note 1:

Ok guys, buckle up.

This chapter is the third in the second min-arc around the VKs. As you might have noticed, each of these past few chapters has featured one of the Core Four and their own particular traumas and struggles; starting with Jay (Icarus, too close to the sun), then Evie in the last chapter (Can you feel it? Are you afraid of me now?). This chapter is Mal's. The next, inevitably, is Carlos.'

***This chapter features abuse!***

Please be warned as this chapter does feature, in no uncertain terms, toxic and abusive relationships (physical abuse and coercion for sex, with incredibly dubious consent/borderline lack of- heavily implied, but not too graphic), and language that reflects things that some may find triggering. If you feel you need to, please feel free to skip Mal's flashback in this chapter, and I will be providing a simple summary of events at the very end of the chapter for those who need/would like it. The triggering content is in the second half of the flashback after the *asterisk break*, but I would rather people be safe than sorry.

***Warnings***

This chapter also features the standard, language, semi-graphic violence and death, child abuse/neglect, as well as dealing with the emotional fallout of love triangles/cheating relationships, and mental health issues such as panic attacks and dissociation, and features the VKs getting their first taste of therapy. The model for therapy that features for this story is a mix of CBT and 'talk' therapy, as well as some form of 'play' therapy that comes entirely from my own research, and I make no expert claims and nor is it my wish to try and offend or harm anyone with my portrayals.

That being said, as always, I hope you all remain safe, and that you enjoy this chapter!

- Raven

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Songs that inspired this chapter:

'Misguided ghosts,' 'Let the flames begin,' 'When it rains' 'All I wanted,' 'Decode,' and 'I caught myself' by Paramore; 'Skinny Love' by Birdy; 'Eyes on fire' by Blue Foundation; 'Two Ghosts' by Harry Styles; 'Alleyways' and 'Staying up' by The Neighbourhood; and 'Flaws,' 'Things we lost in the fire,' and No one's here to sleep' by Bastille.

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Ben

Returning to school after spending the last week at the castle, Ben felt like he'd never left and nothing had changed, and also like he was in another world entirely. Spending any amount of time at the castle and coming back always felt like that, and typically he loved it, loved how it gave him a fresh start and a fresh look at things. But this time, Ben hated it.

He hated it because for that week he'd been having near constant meetings with the Council over the future of the VKs, and the future of the kingdom, and also crafting an almost entirely new council from scratch. His new council consisted, as far as this morning went, of Snow White and Prince Florian; Aladdin and Jasmine (though not the Genie, who never stuck around long enough to solidify his presence in a meaningful way, and who also had made it clear he didn't take Ben seriously enough to contribute in a meaningful way either); Prince Charming and Cinderella; absolutely none of Audrey's family, who had detached themselves in disgust after finding out he'd fired King Stefan; Roger and Anita Radcliffe, who had some level of interest in Carlos- Anita wholeheartedly and Roger reluctantly; all seven of the Seven Dwarves, even Grumpy, which was really saying something; Fairy Godmother, who had been invested from the start; and a handful of other minor royals and nobles and figureheads who had only stayed for the morbid curiosity of villain kids in Auradon and not for any actual support on Ben's part.

All in all, it was enough to leave Ben feeling exhausted and relatively numb to everything, which was why he'd been so relieved to escape it all and get back to the school, and why he was so disappointed that an escape was clearly not what he was getting. He was back at his usual table, with the usual crowd, except Audrey was missing, and Chad looked like he wanted to missing, and Ben was having a really hard time keeping track of what he was pretty sure was the end of the world.

"So, wait, explain to me where the VKs are again?" he asks, blinking blearily over his eggs at Aziz, who had somehow taken it upon himself to be the bearer of earth-shattering news.

"They're at their first session with the Cricket," Aziz says calmly, clearly oblivious to Ben's inner apocalypse. "Well, they've been trying on and off I guess for the past week, but this is the first actual session and we're all pretty excited about it."

Chad clears his throat and stabs awkwardly at his toast with his knife, and Aziz winces, giving the other boy a sheepish look.

"We're trying to be excited about it," Aziz amends, and Chad lifts his lips in what might have been a smile, but was too tight to be anything but a grimace.

"How did that even happen?" Ben asks, mystified. "I don't remember if I ever suggested it or not, but I know I thought it a couple times."

"Fairy Godmother ended up making a judgement call," Chad spoke up, and his voice was strained but not upset. "After it was clear from one too many incidents that Mal and the others just weren't coping well being left to their own devices. Shocker, right? I mean, it's like someone thought that just giving them a new school and a better place to live would magically fix deep-rooted and long-standing traumas."

It's not meant to be a personal insult, but it feels like one, and Ben has to bite his lip to keep from exploding entirely. Chad seems to realize what he's said and stiffens, face going pale as he takes in Ben's expression.

"Fuck, Ben," he hisses, as Aziz and Nikhil shoot frantic looks across the table. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear."

"No, it's fine," Ben manages thickly, swallowing the tightness in his throat. "It's not like I haven't been hearing variations of that exact thing for a week. Not like I've been telling myself how stupid I was for not having a better fucking plan…for not thinking things through. For being so naïve…I get it, ok?"

"Language," Aziz gasps, feigning shock, and Ben almost starts screaming except Chad spoke up before he could so much as inhale sharply.

"Ok, first off, shut up," he snaps, and Ben blinks, stunned. "Yeah, sure, you've never been able to think ahead but that's just cause you're too busy feeling things in the present. What you've done is a good thing, and will become a great thing, and you're already doing what you can to look towards the future of it now."

"But…" Ben begins, and Chad holds up a stern finger, glaring at him with cold eyes.

"I wasn't finished," he says, and Ben falls silent, sheepish elephant. "Second, I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like your plan was a bad idea, or if I was undermining it in any way and just overall being an asshole. I think it's a good idea with poor execution, but that's not entirely your doing and with the planning you are doing, it can be something great."

"Ok, that was way too encouraging and optimistic to have come from Chad," Aziz blurts, before Ben can form a coherent thought for response. Chad scowls and throws his spoon at Aziz, who ducks it easily, and the utensil clatters to the floor, the sound swallowed by the buzzing chatter of the room.

"He's not wrong," Nikhil murmurs with a shrug, and Chad growls, but a hint of red was blooming in his face and the tips of his ears.

"I um…thanks, Chad," Ben finally manages, and it's so pale in comparison to the words he'd just said, but Chad looks up and smiles anyway. "It means a lot to hear that, coming from you."

"Yeah, well," Chad mumbles, grabbing Ben's spoon and using it to finish his jello. "No one else was gonna say it, so why not me?"

Ben snorts, taking it for the apology it was, and settles back into the rhythm of the school morning. Maybe Chad was right. After all, he was trying to make a difference, trying to do things differently. What did it matter if the process wasn't as perfect as what some might expect? He was trying. That had to count for something. It had to count for something.

"Ok, if we're all done with this drama, can we talk about the other drama?" Aziz pipes up, breaking through Ben's reflection.

"What other drama?" Ben asks, hesitantly, not wanting to get into yet another conflict.

"The fact that tryouts are through but we're still short for members, and also Jay and Carlos never showed up to tryout, and I haven't been able to ambush…I mean talk to…either of them for the past week."

"That was a mouthful," Doug quips, not even lifting his gaze from the book in his hands.

"Why haven't you been able to talk to them?" Ben asks, and Aziz falters, and Chad glances away pointedly.

"Um, well…."

Whatever Aziz was about to stumble through is cut off by the bell, and he looks all too relieved, skittering up from the table and darting off with barely a goodbye over his shoulder. Nikhil shakes his head and follows after, pausing to give Ben a much more suitable farewell and welcome back. Doug wanders off with his book still in front of his face, and Chad stares at him bleakly across the table.

"Too class, then?" he offers, and Ben huffs another laugh that he isn't sure actually is a laugh.

"Yeah. To class, then."

The end of the world waited for no one, after all.

---

Cricket

Jeremiah didn't think he was one who tended to be easily surprised, or caught off guard by something. He often prided himself on maintaining his composure and keeping a level head even through the most bizarre of experiences, which was crucial in his field. He'd seen it all, he claimed, and had at least heard everything he hadn't. He was 'young' for his field, true, but he looked at it as an asset. He didn't have to go to any far lengths to relate to the people he saw and spoke with, and was more open minded and prepared for the things that younger folk tended to throw at him.

Which is why it was such a surprise that he now sat in his Auradon-provided office with not one, but all four of the villain children staring back at him.

"I'm not going to lie, this is quite a surprise," he says, and watches as Mal's eyes narrow at him, and Evie's eyes harden in their glance for the door.

"You said you were here to help us, didn't you?" Mal snaps, and he recognizes the accusation in her tone, and that perhaps that was not the best way he could have started.

"You are correct," he says instead, inclining his head towards her and watching as Jay shrinks into the couch and Carlos fidgets with something fuzzy in his hands, resolutely avoiding Jeremiah's gaze. "I'm sorry if what I said made you fear otherwise, I just wasn't expecting all of you to show up at once like this. Especially when you had initially expressed your own reluctance to such a thing."

Evie stiffens in her spot beside Mal, who bares her teeth at him in a silent snarl, and wow he really was doing everything wrong today, wasn't he?

"Things changed," Mal says shortly, and Jeremiah finds his gaze wandering unbidden to Jay, who had also yet to meet his eyes and who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than here.

"So it seems," he murmurs, and decides that it was best to just start over. "But what matters is that you are here, and while you are here, I want to lay out the rules that I have and make some things clear."

Carlos straightens on the sofa though his eyes do not lift, and his hands still expectantly in his lap as though waiting for some sort of outburst. Jay doesn't move at all, and Evie lowers her gaze to the floor. Mal continues to stare at him, and after a moment, lifts a brow as if to say 'well?' Jeremiah nods his head to acknowledge her, and she seems…surprised at that? Pleased? Regardless, it's the permission to continue that he was looking for, and so he does.

"In this office you can do whatever you want or need to, and if there's something you can't do, I'll tell you."

He can tell that's not what they'd been expecting to hear by the way Carlos' brow furrows, and Evie's back straightens, and Mal blinks at him silently. It's almost amusing if it weren't an indicator that they didn't know what it was they wanted; what to do with this freedom he was offering.

"Anything at all?"

It's Jay who challenges it, in a quiet voice that doesn't shake although his body had certainly started to, and Jeremiah takes a moment to appreciate that the boy had even spoken to him at all, considering what he knew of his past that had been revealed.

"Anything at all," Jeremiah affirms, keeping his voice even and calm. "Though I will say that my one rule is that you refrain from any harmful behavior or language towards each other while you are here. This office is meant to be a safe place, where you can be yourselves and where you can grow and heal, and anything that would cause harm tends to be counterproductive to that."

"What about you?" Mal says, and there's a considering look in his eyes that he thinks he should maybe be afraid of.

"What about me?" he asks, and the twitch of a smile comes across her face.

"You said we couldn't do anything to each other while we were here, but you didn't say anything about you."

Jeremiah meets her smile with one of his own, glad at least, that she was engaging, although he recognized the threat and the warning for what it was.

"Well, while I certainly would hope for no harm to come to me, I know that is unlikely in my line of work, and if that's something you feel you need to do, then it's not my place to stop you."

Mal blinks at that, which he was coming to recognize as something she did when she was caught off guard by something but refused to show it. Couldn't show it, perhaps. He'd have to make a note of that…find out if it was something unique to her or perhaps unique to the Isle. Regardless, his words seemed to have calmed Carlos, who had relaxed at least marginally and was one again fidgeting with the fuzzy item in his hands. Jay, however, stands abruptly, hands in tight fists at his sides and eyes blazing as they glare not-quite-at-Jeremiah.

"I want to leave," he bites out through his teeth, and Jeremiah makes an effort to lean back in his chair and appear non-threatening.

"You are welcome to leave whenever you want," he says, and Jay is across the room in seconds, hand reaching for the door before he can finish.

"Jay," Mal snaps, and Jay freezes as she stands from the sofa, eyes bright with her own green flame and no small amount of fear.

"He said I could leave," Jay says, but his voice hitches at the end of the sentence, and his hand shakes where it grips the doorknob.

"And I'm telling you to stay," Mal says icily, and Jeremiah has the distinct impression of a game of tug-of-war.

"I'm not going to keep you here against your will," he says calmly, keeping his attention on the remaining children in front of him. "That would defeat the point of this whole thing, wouldn't it? If you want to leave, at any time, you can."

Jay flings the door open and disappears, and Mal growls a curse and darts after him, pausing at the door to glare at Jeremiah.

"We'll be right back," she promises, then turns her glare to the two sitting on the sofa. "Carlos, watch Evie."

Then she, too, vanishes out the door, leaving Jeremiah alone with the remaining VKs. Carlos looks stunned, then solemn, as he grips the fuzzy object in his hand and turns his attention from Jeremiah to Evie, and then back again. Evie looks even more sullen than before, though she doesn't turn her focus from the door, and Jeremiah wonders if he should make some sort of comment on the power structure of the group, or attempt to work with what he had.

"While we wait for them to come back, would either of you like anything to drink?" he offers, gesturing to the water tank in the corner.

Carlos flinches and recoils into his seat, and Evie lifts her gaze to glare at him suspiciously.

"No, thank you," she says, and though the words are polite, her tone is cold, as though Jeremiah had offered poison instead of water.

"Alright," he says, and sits back and observes for a moment, thinking on the encounter that had just occurred and the dynamics of the children in his care.

Mal was very clearly the head of the group, the leader, though he sensed a tension with both Jay and Evie, and he wondered if either of them had perhaps led the group before, or had tried to. Jay certainly seemed most likely, being the oldest, though there was a chance that power dynamics worked differently on the Isle. More than just a chance, really, but short of getting the information from the VKs directly, he had no way of knowing for sure. Evie would be a challenge in her own way, Jeremiah reasoned. She seemed to have more a grasp for words and less of a trust for them than the others. She would be the one looking for a trap in everything he said, more than in what he did.

Jay and Carlos were the most interesting to him, given that he knew very little about them. He had heard of Jay's predisposition for violence, and a potential inclination towards theft, though Jeremiah hadn't witnessed much of that for himself. Then of course, there was the most recent revelation of the boy's past traumas, which would be a struggle, definitely to overcome. His fear was that Jay would see his abuser in Jeremiah, which would make recovery difficult, if not impossible. While he hadn't been lying when he'd said he wouldn't keep them there against their will, there was a part of Jeremiah that hoped Mal would be able to convince the other boy to return.

Carlos was quiet, though he had heard that the smallest of the group was no less fierce in his own right, perhaps even more so than the others. He was hyper-aware of every movement Jeremiah made, and of everything in the room, eyes dark and calculating as they surveyed his surroundings. He had the sort of air about him of someone waiting to be attacked, and though he'd noticed similar behaviors in the others, it was stronger in Carlos. He would have to go slowly with him- with all of them, really- but with the way the others seemed to hover so protectively over the small boy he wondered if he would even have a chance.

They were an interesting bunch, these villain children. They had such distinct and intense personalities, to the point where they were almost clashing, and Jeremiah wondered just how it was that they came together in the first place. There was a closeness there that betrayed their warring natures, and he looked forward to the chance to find out more about them as individuals. It would be important, he knew, to separate them eventually, to cater to their individual needs but also to teach them to stand on their own, as well. But that would come with time, and no small struggle on Mal's part, Jeremiah was sure. But if it was in the best interest of the VKs, he would try anything.

Jay staggered across the threshold of the room towards the end of his musing, Mal close behind with a satisfied look on her face that was belied by the way her fingers tangled tightly in the fabric of Jay's shirt. She released him when the door closed behind them, and Jay all but bolted for the couch, wedging himself between the leather arm of the couch and Carlos, who pulled something new from his pocket and began fiddling with it, showing it to Jay and murmuring his progress as he went.

"Well?" Mal demands, once she'd returned to her place between Evie and Carlos, brows raised.

"The world didn't end while you were gone, if that's what you were wondering," Jeremiah quips, and while Evie's brows lift in silent amusement, Mal glowers at him sternly, green eyes bright.

"I was wondering why I dragged Jay's ass back here if nothing was even happening," Mal snarled, and Jeremiah lifted his own brows at her.

"Were you expecting something in particular to happen?" he asks, wondering at her fears. She glares even harder at him in response, counteracting his beliefs.

"I was expecting you to do something to help," she hisses. "Since that's what everyone keeps telling us you were fucking here for."

"Ah, I see," Jeremiah sighs, lifting his head in a slow nod. "Well, while I'm glad to hear you have some measure of faith in me, healing isn't something that's going to happen all at once or right away. It's going to take time, and effort on both our parts."

Mal's eyes narrow skeptically at him, but she sits back in the sofa and crosses her arms, surveying the room with a lazier interest than Carlos had shown, though he has no doubt that she was taking in everything.

"So what's this then? What is us sitting here right now?"

"This is the first session," Jeremiah states simply, spreading his hands to indicate the room. "It's where we get to know each other and establish a level of trust, so you can feel comfortable here and comfortable with me."

Evie snorts at that, and Mal snaps her head over to glare sharply at the other girl, who promptly falls silent. Again, Jeremiah wonders at the power dynamics in the group, but decides to save that note for a later time, when things were less precarious.

"With that being said, would any of you like to explore the room at all?" Jeremiah offers, and Carlos' lifts his head to peer cautiously at him out of the corner of his eyes.

The boy then glances questioningly to Mal, who hesitates a moment before nodding her head in the direction of the room. Carlos brightens considerably at her seeming permission and leaps from the couch, jarring Jay who flinches and then scowls. Jeremiah watches for as long as the boy remains in his peripheral vision as Carlos wanders around the room, running his hands over the walls and the furniture and ducks underneath the table and then comes back up on the other side. It's amusing to watch, and yet there's a part of Jeremiah that wonders (as it always wonders) if he is still looking for exits.

"There's a cabinet with some things inside you might find interesting, Carlos," he speaks over his shoulder, then listens with a small hint of pleasure as the metal door of the cabinet creaks and Carlos makes a noise of surprise.

The boy returns to the sofa moments later with a clear glass tray, filled with smaller containers and trinkets and other objects, which he spreads out onto the table in front of the other children with a triumphant hum. A quick glance reveals the objects to Jeremiah, and he lets out his own interested hum as he realizes what it was Carlos had grabbed.

"Ah, I see you found the sand tray," he muses, and Carlos looks up at him cautiously before continuing to empty things out onto the table.

Jeremiah watches as Carlos clears everything out of the tray before searching through the containers and humming, cataloguing what he finds inside and emptying some into the tray and discarding some others. Mal looks on with vague interest while Evie remains withdrawn, and Jay barely blinks as Carlos fills the tray with sand until it is more sand than tray. Then he sits back and stares, suddenly uncertain.

"There's more items in that bin there, if you're interested," Jeremiah prods, and Carlos grabs one of the containers he'd discarded and opens it, humming again and dumping a small array of plastic figures and structures and objects into the sand.

Mal leans forward and surveys the pile with a bit more interest, and Carlos shuffles over to allow her a better view. She grins, suddenly, and pokes Carlos' shoulder.

"Hey, look," she mutters to him, nodding her head at the plastic toys. "There's a water tower over there."

Carlos grins, as well, then gasps as an idea seems to strike him and his fingers fly over the sand, arranging figures and towers and digging his hands through the sand. Mal laughs at one point and lowers herself to the floor beside him and joining in, and Evie glances over at another point and sighs and mumbles 'It was purple, not black,' and even Jay casts a wary eye at their work and cracks a tiny smirk. Eventually, the VKs finish, and sit back grinning, satisfied, and Jeremiah takes a moment to just appreciate how childish they look, how carefree. Mal is muttering something to Carlos as they survey the scene they've constructed, which has Carlos giggling madly behind his hands, and Jay idly turns a figure over in his hands before placing it on top of the water tower.

"Is it alright if I take a look?" Jeremiah asks, when they've calmed slightly, and Mal scoffs at him and spreads her hands.

"It's right here," she says, not seeming notice or care for his asking permission, which he decides to take as a good sign, this time, and ignore the part of him that points out the issue of boundaries.

Jeremiah leans forward in his chair and takes in a strange construction. The colored sands have been divided in the tray, the darker browns and blacks taking up the largest section of the tray, with a bit of blue sand overtaking a small corner of it. Atop the brown portion of sand are a scattering of buildings, divided in no order that he can see, but a small ring of stones are crowded into the center. On the outskirts of the buildings, removed from the cluster but close enough to observe it, a lone water tower sat jammed into the sand on an angle, the figure Jay had held resting precariously on the top.

"It looks impressive," Jeremiah says as he sits back, and Carlos snorts and Mal rolls her eyes and lets out another laugh.

"It looks like shit," she says, but there's an easy sort of mirth in her voice despite the statement.

"Yeah it does," Jay chimes in for the first time, pride and affection in his tone as he digs through to find a few more figurines.

"Why do you think that?" Jeremiah asks, and Carlos shakes his head but doesn't lose his smile, and Mal's lips quirk in something bittersweet as she looks back over their construction.

"It's the Isle, or a piece of it, anyway."

And wow but they really dove right into it, didn't they? Jeremiah stifles his professional surprise, and surveys the scene again with fresh eyes, recognizing that there was so much here to unpack and not quite sure what he wanted to address first.

"What is this that you've built, then?" he settles on, and Carlos pokes and prods at different section as Mal describes them.

"Well that's the water tower," she begins, in a tone like she was being put upon, and yet Jeremiah could hear the nostalgia beneath it. "It sits just on the outskirts of the square, and if you go that way-" she points in a vague direction off the map- "for an hour and some, you'll hit the main town, and if you go for two hours and some that way from there-" she points again in a different direction –"you'll hit one of our safe-houses."

"How many safe-houses do you have?" Jeremiah asks carefully, unsure if this was a question he was allowed to ask.

Evie's eyes narrow, but she doesn't look up at him, and Mal lifts her head in thought, as though wondering how much to tell him. He does his best to remain still in his chair, giving her the chance to refuse him if she chose.

"Two," Mal finally answers slowly, considering him as she spoke. "Not counting our main hideout."

He doesn't make a note of that, certain that that information is something that Mal would appreciate remaining unknown. But he does make a mental note of it, and decides to push his luck just a bit further as Carlos and Jay begin maneuvering some of the figurines through the Isle scene they'd constructed.

"And what did you use those safe-houses for?" Jeremiah asks, and Mal levels him with a daring look, eyes flashing brightly.

"What do you think?" she drawls, and he leans back in his chair and thinks for a moment.

"Well, safe-houses are typically used to hide things people don't want to be found; sometimes it's drugs or food…and sometimes it's other people."

Mal shrugs and lifts a brow, a challenging smile playing at her lips. "There you go, then."

"You hide people in your safe-houses?" Jeremiah asks, more for her benefit than for actual clarification. He was glad to see how easily she was engaging with him now, and only hoped that he could get the others to follow her example.

"Well we weren't going to fit our whole gang in one place," Mal scoffs, and Jeremiah lifts a brow even as he makes a note of the mention of other children.

"And how many do you have in your gang?"

Mal smirks at him, eyes hardening. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"Fair enough," he replies, leaning back in his chair once more.

He surveys the rest of the group and notes that Jay had stopped maneuvering figures with Carlos and was once again hunched into himself on the sofa, although the boy appeared much more alert and present than he had before. Evie still looked bored with the whole process, but her eyes were sharp and would every so often dart over and fix him with a piercing look, almost as if in warning. Carlos only ever looked at him sideways, never quite making direct eye contact but keeping tabs on his position all the same, and Mal…. Mal met him as if this were a challenge, a battle she had to win, or an obstacle to overcome. She didn't quite realize that the true battle wasn't with him at all.

"Do you mind if I ask just what it is you four are doing here," Jeremiah says, and Mal stiffens and Evie's eyes harden; and Jay's shoulders tense and Carlos' eyes flicker cautiously to his.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to be telling us?" Evie snaps, and Mal's head turns to glare at the other girl.

"I can give you advice," Jeremiah replies, not missing the spark of green in Mal's eyes. "I can help you cope with the things you might be dealing with, and give you better ways of handling things in the future. But I can't do anything, until I know what you're here for- what it is you want to get out of these sessions."

"What we want?" Jay mutters, and Jeremiah makes it a point to not look in his direction, though he nods his head in acknowledgment of the question.

"Do you want help dealing with the things in the past and have a better grasp of your future?" he asks, glancing carefully over the assembled children before him. "Do you want to heal?"

And he's not going to lie, it's a bright and overwhelming relief that fills him, as an assortment of weary and wary eyes meet his, and four voices ring out uncertain and shaky, and yet resolute in this one thing.

"Yes."

---

Mal

Mal stood on top of the water tower and glared out over the Isle at the black speck that was just starting to appear on the horizon.

"How long till arrival, E?"

Evie made a calculating noise below her, but Mal didn't take her eyes off the shape.

"I can't see the flag yet, but probably about an hour…maybe 45 minutes."

Mal nodded, then glanced down to where Carlos was fiddling a flare, then looked over her shoulder to Jay, who was gripping the dagger of his knife and glaring just as hard at the speck as she had. He caught her eye and nodded once, a grim but eager smile flitting across his face. Mal returned it and leapt down from the railing, ignoring Carlos' yelp of protest as she landed just a bit too close to him.

"Radio over when you can see the flag," she instructed the other girl as she made her way across rusted and rattling metal and to the ladder waiting beyond. "Carlos, if you're not on your way by the time I get to the bottom of this thing…."

She left the threat unfinished, but Carlos' eyes widen regardless, and he scrambled up and shoved the flare into the waist of his pants. He bolted for the opposite rail and lifted himself up and over, rolling onto the roof of the attached structure and disappearing. Mal chuckled her approval, while Evie clicked her tongue.

"I really wish you'd stop scaring him like that, Mal," she said, eyes still glued to the cracked telescope in her hands. "You know how Cruella is."

Mal did know, in fact. All too well, but she glared at the back of Evie's head all the same. "Lighten up, Evie," she snapped, stepping down onto the first rung of the ladder. "He knows I'd never hurt him and that's all that matters."

Evie said nothing, but Mal noted the way her jaw tightened, and paused on the ladder, eyes flashing green.

"Something you want to say?"

Evie stiffened, but didn't look over, fingers clenching around the plastic in her hands. She shook her head minutely, and Mal grinned, tight and feral.

"That's what I thought. Jay, with me."

And she dropped down the ladder, feet skidding along the old metal with a shriek that could have rivalled the sewer rats. She could hear the low murmur of Jay's voice above, but he was by her side within a few more seconds, and they took off down the streets and in the direction of the square.

"Whistle," she commanded as they approached, and Jay barked a laugh and brought his hands up to his lips, whistling low and sharp through them, the sound amplified through his cupped fingers. He whistled once more, and by the time they'd reached the busier streets there were six of them instead of two.

Mal grinned wider, and let her own laugh spill forth as they burst into the square, feet pounding almost in tandem. Eyes turned to them as they exploded onto the scene, but most took one look at the green of her eyes and the purple of her hair and turned away. Those that didn't were promptly stabbed or shoved out of the way, and curses and shouts trailed in their wake as they pushed forward and through and out of the square.

There were ten of them now, and Mal breathed a sigh of relief as she caught sight of a flash of light to the west side of the city. Carlos had set his traps, then. Good. He'd be meeting up with them soon, if he was quick enough. He was quick enough.

Static squeaked from the radio at her belt, and Mal yanked it up to her ear without slowing her stride.

"I can see the flags," Evie said, and Mal didn't know if it was the static or just the resentment, but her voice was clipped even through the radio. "You've got thirty minutes."

"You mean you've got thirty minutes," Mal retorted, but she was still grinning, the thrill of the coming drop filling her and coloring her own voice with amusement. "See you at the docks, E."

Evie huffed a short scoff of her own, and Mal tossed the radio to Jay. He caught it and turned the dial before speaking into it, eyes scanning the turning street ahead of them while Mal counted the moving heads behind.

Twelve. Shit.

"You in place, C?"

A short whistle came through the radio in response, and Jay smiled, then frowned at the look on Mal's face.

"What?"

"We're short," she said, and Jay snapped his head up and she could see his eyes taking in the lagging crowd.

"Fuck," he hissed, and she shook her head.

"We have to keep moving. If they don't show, we know who to go after."

"No, I mean…never mind."

Mal looked up at him sharply, hearing the hesitation in his voice, but his face was blank, his teeth biting at his lip the only indication of trouble. She glanced back over her head and just caught the sight of a bright flash of red. Then orange. Then green.

"Fucking shit!" She snarled, fury welling up quickly and souring her previous joy. "How the fuck did they know we were moving? They shouldn't have even…."

She froze on the street, and the gang around her faltered, then kept going, slipping around her to follow Jay's lead. Mal let them, eyes snapping up again and scanning the shadows for any trace…any sign of the darkness shifting. It didn't, except to yield more color, and Mal muttered another curse before hollering,

"Jay!"

She took off again, catching up just as a shrieking whoop sounded from her left, more cries and calls echoing around her now, swelling and rising with each of their renewed footfalls.

"Jay," she growled again, and he cast her a grimacing, sideways look.

"I know," he said. "They shouldn't be this far in, not this soon."

Someone wasn't doing their job, but rather than fury, panic began to fill Mal instead. She couldn't dwell on it now, not with the pirates closing in. If it broke out into a fight here, with alleys on all sides and no escape but straight through and into the bay...into the very heart of their territory….

Just as she was thinking it, a scream sounded behind her, a high, desperate keen that cut off far too soon. She didn't need to turn to know, and Jay's eyes were hard as he muttered:

"Eleven."

Mal snarled and pulled back, shoving the rest of the gang forward and pulling her knife from her belt.

"Radio Carlos," she growled as she went, and Jay shook his head, but moved to do as she said, yanking the radio from his belt and speaking into it quickly and quietly.

She drifted to the back of the crowd and turned just in time to slip her knife between the ribs of the next pirate, the colored blur faltering before falling to the street with a moan that quickly became a gurgle. She exhaled a satisfied 'ha' as she straightened, and the shadow in the alley in front of her straightened as well. There was no time for Mal to process before she was on her back, a heavy weight crushing the air from her lungs and a dagger far too close to her face for comfort.

The eyes of the faceless form above her sparkled intently as Mal struggled, and a high, grating rasp of a voice spilled out from the shadow.

"Hello, Mal."

Pain bit deep into her side, dragging up and across her stomach with a precision that was too intentional to be anything but deliberate.

"Oh I've been waiting to do this for a while," the voice came again, breathless and cruel and familiar, and Mal bit her tongue to keep her own scream in check and brought her knife up, but she knew even before she struck that it was useless. Sure enough, her wrist was caught immediately, and the shadow's eyes hardened before the pain came again, and Mal felt a cry work its way through her clenched teeth. She forced it into a laugh, and it bubbled up, weak and not quite as believable as she'd have liked.

"Ever the trained dog, huh, Fenris?" She spat out, and the girl's face twisted with rage, the blade lifting up above her head again.

It never connected, and Mal jerked herself up and back, staggering into the wall behind her as Fenris snarled in the grasp of another shadow that had detached itself from the alley.

"Move," the figure snarled, and the voice was low, dark and cold. Unfamiliar, even as gold eyes pierced Mal's own and caused her to shudder against the wall. "We have a boat to catch."

The dark around her seemed to shift and blur, and the shadows vanished, leaving Mal gasping in the alley alone.

"Shit," she whispered shakily, pressing her hand to her side and immediately regretting it as the world went white for a moment. "Fucking…."

She staggered out of the alley and back up the street and found Jay waiting for her, blood trailing from his hands and a matching pissed off look on his face. Upon closer inspection, Mal determined that his hands were the only part of him that was stained, and Mal leaned against a nearby wall and tried not to look at her wound.

"We're down to eight," Jay said, eyes going from her stomach to her face. "That looks fun."

"Don't worry about it," she snapped automatically, wincing as she inhaled and it pulled at her skin. "We have to make sure everyone we have is in position and stays close. Take over for Meda when she gets in range and rally the triplets for extra cover."

"I'm not worried, I'm impressed," Jay quipped, brows lifting in response to her words. "Whoever did that must have really meant it."

"Yeah, thanks, I couldn't fucking tell from the way they practically took my insides out," Mal bit out through her teeth, and Jay grinned but quickly sobered.

"Also Meda's not an option anymore. The triplets are scattered."

"Of course, because we don't have enough shit to deal with as it fucking is," she said, but inwardly she was growing frantic herself. Meda had been a bitch, but the only one who could control the triplets, and if they were scattered it would take ages for them to regenerate or whatever it is the weird ghost-brats did. Not only that, but the ramifications of her encounter with the shadow in the alley were starting to catch up to her, and she had less than ten minutes to come up with a suitable plan to make sure the rest of them survived the coming barge drop.

"Mother fuck," Mal hissed, stumbling off from the wall and righting herself by brushing against Jay's shoulder. "Come on, we have to move."

"Carlos is in position and he rigged a section of dock to go just when the boat touches down," Jay muttered as he followed her, sticking just a bit closer to her side. "The pirates will have to go the long way through and we can get in and get what we need and get out."

"And what about the rest of the fucking gangs?" Mal snapped, and Jay hummed a low noise that might have been a curse.

"Not close enough to get there before we do," he said, but he didn't sound so sure. "And even if someone gets too close, we have enough in numbers to stop them, at least."

Mal paused at the ridge overlooking the bay, eyes landing on Carlos as he scrambled up to meet them. He went rigid at the sight of her blood, but upon meeting her eyes he ducked his head and remained silent, slinking over to Jay's other side and crouching down to wait. Evie appeared not long after, and she gasped at the sight of Mal and made no such qualms about saying something.

"What happened?! Mal, are you alright?"

"Killed a pirate," Mal said in response, not caring if her voice was clipped. "Are you ready for some fun? Cuz they already took down half of the group we had and the rest didn't show, so it's really just us and how many, Jay? Eight?"

"Six."

"Six!" Mal repeated, her voice pitching higher with desperation and a sick, morbid humor. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun."

Carlos looked up at her doubtfully, but held up his small trigger remote. Jay groaned beside her and Evie looked pale, but determined, and Mal was grateful for that, at least. It made the next bit less difficult, if only slightly.

"We have anymore pirates, Jay?"

"No," he said, eyes on the horizon and the impending arrival of the boat. "But I'm keeping an eye out for the colors."

Mal swallowed and grit her teeth tight around her next words; the echo of metal against her skin and the blood in the alley. "Keep an eye out for the Huns, too."

"Ok? They don't usually show till closer to the drop, but I'll look."

Mal almost laughed, but she was sure it would come out as a scream if she tried. "No, Jay, I mean keep an eye out for the Huns."

"Oh yeah, no I got that," Jay said, and his voice was pinched suddenly. "Thing is, Mal? They're kinda already here."

They barely made it out of the drop alive. As it was, they made it out clinging to life and several cans of something processed and a single loaf of bread that smelled funny even before it got to the stale smell. The hideout ended up being too close with the pirates right on their trail, and they'd had to push further into the square to escape them which put them too close to the villains. By the time they'd collapsed in the basement of Maleficent's castle it was dark, and they were more bruises and blood than anything else, with only a few cans of food and half the loaf of smelly bread. Mal figured the only reason they had half the loaf left to begin with was because of the smell, which was enough to make them gag before they'd even tried eating it.

"That was some bullshit," Jay gasped, squinting at the can in his hands and groaning. "Some kind of mushroom soup," he said, holding it up to the rest of them. Evie shook her head after a brief moment of thought, while Carlos shrugged his shoulders and Jay tossed the can to him. The smaller boy immediately began to pry at the lid with a knife, and Mal sparked the lanterns a bit brighter.

"I want half that can, Carlos," she barked, and Carlos grumbled under his breath at her as he got the lid free and started to drink.

"What was that?" Jay continued, kicking at the dirt and glaring at the air. "I mean seriously, what the fuck was that, Mal?"

"I'm about to go find out, so shut up and bring your sword," she snarled in response, and Evie straightened sharply against the crumbling wall.

"You're going back out?"

"Yes, Evie. Don't wait up. Carlos, set the traps. Jay, now."

Jay scrambled after her, snatching up his sword and fumbling it into the darkened leather scabbard before climbing up into the house, the black ribbon attached to the hilt fluttering behind like a shadow. They slipped through and out onto the street and it was only as they approached the side alleys that divided the Isle borders that Jay grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop. Pain flared unexpectedly through her side and straight down her spine, and Mal choked on the scream that tore from her just as suddenly.

"Fuck, Mal, if you'd said where we were going I wouldn't have had to grab you," Jay mumbled, voice tight but eyes downcast.

"Apology not accepted, asshole," Mal bit out, when the world stopped blurring. She almost pressed her hand to her side again but resisted the urge and settled on glaring at Jay instead. "And if you'd waited a bit longer I'd have said that we're here."

The fence was just ahead, actually, and Mal squeezed through and almost threw up as the chain links caught and dragged across her stomach, nearly reopening the wound. She really should have let Evie look at it before she left like the other girl wanted to, but Mal hadn't wanted to deal with the fuss, hadn't wanted to admit that there was a problem in the first place. But there was a problem, and she straightened as Jay scrambled through the fence after her.

"What are we doing here?" Jay whispered, tugging his hat further down over his hair and eyeing the dark around them with suspicion. "Mal? This is Hun territory, we can't be here."

She ignored him and pressed on, swallowing her nausea but not her fear, which only continued to grow as she crept forward through the maze of warehouses. It was as they approached the center that a sharp whistling sound rang out, followed promptly by a desperate cry of pain, and Mal and Jay both froze. It was the kind of guttural wail that came when you'd run out of air but not out of pain, and your body demanded you make a noise anyway. Mal didn't know if it was the screaming or the alarm as their presence had been noticed that terrified her more, but she pushed forward and into the outskirts of the center square, and then stopped again at the sight that beheld her.

Two figures were in the center square of warehouses, one standing over the other and holding a deadly, curved blade. The figure on the ground was writhing, agony etched on their face and that high, desperate wailing spilling out in broken fragments from their mouth. Blood splattered the ground and the figure above them, and as Mal watched, they drove the blade down into the prone form beneath them, eliciting a fresh cry and more blood as the blade carved across the fallen body. Mal felt her stomach leap into her throat because while the writhing form was unmistakably Fenris; with the bright red hair a near match to the blood which soaked the ground…the other figure…the other figure….

Mal flinched as Jay gripped her arm tightly, his eyes wide and horrified. "This is why we don't go into Hun territory!" he hissed, tugging her backwards and into the shadows. "That's gonna be us if we don't get out of here right now!"

She jerked out of his grip and forward again, eyes locked on the once familiar form of Daisha. She was still Daisha…but different. Strange, somehow. Time on the Isle had always been hard to work out, but the other girl looked older, her face more drawn than Mal remembered. Her eyes were darker, a cold brutality in them that Mal definitely didn't remember. As she watched, Daisha's lips twisted, curling upwards into a cruel smirk as she bent over and began to speak to the broken form beneath her, her dark hair falling forward and obscuring her expression from Mal's view. Whatever she said seemed to spark fresh terror in Fenris, who let out another desperate sound and began to claw at the ground, attempting vainly to pull away as Daisha slowly drew her blade back once more, a cold grin growing across her face.

Movement rippled from the back of the scattered gathering of Huns, and Shan Yu appeared in the warehouse doorway. "Daisha!" he barked, and Mal stiffened at the dark look of fury on his face, as did the Huns nearest him. "That is enough."

Daisha didn't even blink at the sound of her father's voice, and Fenris' corresponding scream tapered off abruptly with a sickening twist of her blade. Shan Yu's eyes flashed, the fury darkening on his face and despite the limp in his step, made short, quick strides across the square, a growl building in his chest as he went. Mal felt her breath catch in her throat as the once leader of the Huns reached Daisha, grabbing her arm as it drew back for a finishing blow and, when she resisted, jerked her around and struck her hard across the face. If it weren't for his grip on her arm, the blow would have sent her to the ground. As it was, she remained upright but just barely, suspended tightly in his grasp. Instantly, all lingering movement and activity stopped, a collective breath leaving the watching Huns at the sight, and even Mal felt her own breath leave her in a rush because for all the ruthlessness he might have displayed and all the brutality of his reputation, Shan Yu had never once struck Daisha.

"I said that is enough," Shan Yu snarled, voice low and intent.

Daisha remained silent in his grip, just as stunned, but at the command in his voice she bared her own teeth into a snarl and jerked back. Immediately, Shan Yu raised his hand, and Mal flinched and Daisha froze.

"Do not make me strike you again," he said softly, and Daisha's jaw clenched tightly shut and her head lowered, eyes resolutely not meeting his.

Shan Yu's eyes lost some of their own coldness, and he looked as if he wanted to say something more. Instead he opened his hand, and Daisha pulled away from him, stumbling only slightly and the snarl coming back onto her face. Without a word, she stormed away and towards the east section of warehouses, disappearing beneath a faded canopy. Mal watched her go and couldn't figure out what the feeling in her chest and in her gut was, but she had no time to ponder on it as Shan Yu straightened in the center of the square and bellowed:

"Enough sightseeing, we have a drop to sort through! And someone come and clean this up."

He dropped his gaze back down to the ruin of Fenris, his lip curling in disgust. Then he shook his head and turned, heading back in the direction he had come. He stopped just a few steps short of the threshold and turned his head suddenly, locking eyes with Mal over his shoulder.

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence once more, dragon. A word would be even kinder."

Then he stepped into the warehouse and the Huns resumed activity once more, only a few daring looks to where she and Jay still stood half concealed in the shadows. Jay, who promptly turned and slammed her into the nearest warehouse wall, prompting a curse from Mal as her side twinged painfully.

"Alright Mal, what the fuck is going on?! The Huns? The Huns, Mal!"

Mal growled and dug the hilt of her dagger into his ribs, using the leverage to shove him away from her. He pulled back but continued to glare, though Mal could see the flickers of fear in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide. She tore her gaze away and back to the canopy where Daisha had disappeared, gritting her jaw before finally deciding it wasn't worth having Jay's animosity, too.

"I made an arrangement with Shan Yu a couple years ago," she forces out evenly, careful to keep her own emotions in check where Jay had failed. "He saved Carlos' life and in return I promised to uphold my end of whatever bargain he decided to strike. In addition, the leader of the Huns promised further protection and allies in the war against the pirates."

"Wait, years?" Jay snapped, and his confusion did nothing to calm his anger as he made to slam her into the wall again. Mal deftly flipped the dagger around so the blade faced him, and he faltered, then cursed. "You mean to tell me you've had this…thing….going on with the Huns for years and we never knew?"

"In case you hadn't noticed from their attack this morning, they can be subtle when they want," Mal quipped, and Jay slammed his fist into the wall beside her head.

"Mal! You realize that their attacking us means that whatever deal you made is shit now, right?"

"No, I hadn't fucking noticed that, Jayden," Mal snapped coldly, eyes lighting with green. "Thanks for pointing it out. If you're done being an idiot, I'm going to go talk with Shan Yu and find out what the fuck happened."

She pushed past him without giving him a chance to respond, but she heard him regardless, his words muttered traitorously to her back.

"This would never have been a problem if I'd been leading the gang."

She stiffened and had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing out at him, forcing herself to continue and into the main warehouse. He followed her a moment later, and she heard him trip as he crossed the threshold and they came face to face with Shan Yu. He was sitting at a table with only two legs, though it held strong, surveying something on top of it with dark interest. A bird perched on his shoulder, and watched them enter with sharp, glittering eyes, letting out a trill at their approach.

Shan Yu looked up and his eyes went past her to Jay before returning to her, and Mal felt her breath catch as she realized the thing on the table was a bear trap. More specifically, it was the mangled remains of the bear trap that Carlos had been caught in when she'd brought him to the Huns what felt like so many years ago. Shan Yu caught her staring and smiled, but it was cold, and humorless, and Mal straightened instantly; lifting her chin and bracing for the worst.

"You recall when you brought the de Vil boy to me, I told you there would be a price owed for his life."

Mal nodded once, and Jay hissed behind her, but he remained ignored.

"I did not enact that price at the time, deciding to be merciful after you joined and Daisha spoke for you. But then you decided to desert the clan-"

"I didn't," Mal protests, and Shan Yu's eyes flashed gold in warning. She fell silent immediately, and he brought a hand up to rub almost lazily at his chin, dark eyes never leaving hers.

"And so I think it only fair that with your return now, you can pay for what was owed two years ago."

Jay stiffened and Mal bit down on the curse she wanted to give and instead forced herself to meet the Hun's eyes, letting just a hint of fire come into her own.

"I was only gone for one year," she said, and Shan Yu's brows furrowed sharply, lips curling in harsh disdain.

"And yet you see what that year has done," he snarled, hand rising sharply to indicate the bloodstained square beyond. "It may have only seemed a year to you, but for her it has been a lifetime."

He sank back in his chair, and Mal could see a weariness in him that she hadn't before, a tightness around his eyes and mouth.

"And I am worried for her," Shan Yu sighed, and for just a moment, he seemed old. Old, and tired, and concerned for his offspring. "I am worried for the future of the Clan, if this is what she means to lead them towards."

"And what, exactly, do you want me to do about it?" Mal asked, swallowing hard past the stone in her throat and ignoring the weight of Jay's glare on her back. "I have no control over the actions of the Clan."

"But you do control the sway you have over her," Shan Yu said, and his eyes were cold again, any traces of age gone from his face. "As well as the sway she has over you. My price is simple, Mal; I want you to do as you've always done. I want you to go and be there for my daughter."

It was the use of her name that made her flinch, but it was his demand that made her tremble, and in spite of everything, she found herself shaking her head.

"I can't," she whispered, unable to meet his gaze. "Not in the way she wants me to be. It's why I left in the first place."

"That's unfortunate," Shan Yu rumbled lightly, and there was danger in his tone that had Mal snapping her head back up to meet him, eyes wide and frantic. "Because the alternative payment is far more drastic than what I was hoping for, and that boy has come so far. It would be unfair if all that progress were to be cut short, you understand."

She did. Quite plainly. His gold eyes were dull embers that flickered and danced dangerously as they bore into her own, and Mal had no doubt that despite his current aversion to the brutality of his past, Shan Yu would easily return to that if it meant the security of his Clan's future. She understood that quite well.

"I'm glad we agree, then." Shan Yu smiled at her, and it did nothing to lift the coldness of the promise in his eyes of what would come if she were to fail him a second time. But Mal steeled herself and nodded, and rose stiffly from her chair, shoving Jay out the door ahead of her before she could give herself time to ponder just what it was she'd done. What she'd agreed to.

"Come on," she said jerkily, in face of Jay's continued protests.

"Where are we going now?" he snapped, but his eyes were anxious and his hands gripped tightly to the hilt of the sword.

"To talk to the leader of the Huns," she replied, and Jay's head darted back to look in the direction they'd come.

"Didn't we just do that?"

"No," Mal muttered, eyes fixed on the looming canopy ahead. "No, we didn't."

"Oh you've gotta be fucking kidding…her?!" Jay demanded, shoving in front of Mal and turning to block her continued pace. "You mean that crazy bitch we just watched torture that other chick is—"

"Shan Yu's daughter," Mal cut in, shifting around him and stepping up to the threshold of the canopy entrance. "The leader of the Huns."

"What the fuck, Mal?"

What the fuck indeed. Mal steeled herself and stepped up into the canopy before she could think better of it, and instantly froze in the doorway. The room was the same as it had always been; thick and closed off by the tapestries and burlap that served as curtains, a heady, spiced scent lingering in the air that was so easy to sink into and so hard to pull away from, just like the resident of the room. The low mattress in the back was still covered in worn, weather-eaten furs, the metal wash basin to the side of it and the chipped mirror hung just above that. Mal knew there were hidden shelves and cubbies for storage somewhere behind the tarps lining the walls, but really all of the familiarity of the room was nothing compared to the familiarity of its occupant.

Daisha was sitting shirtless on the edge of the bed, scrubbing Fenris' blood from her arms and hands. Her armor lay discarded at her feet, the blackened leather cracked and faded with time but still well maintained, the dark tunic Daisha wore pulled down to her waist to allow her better access with the rough cloth she scraped methodically across her skin. Her hair just as raven-dark as Mal remembered, though it had grown thicker and longer in the year she'd been gone, falling down across Daisha's bare shoulders and back and concealing a variety of scars that Mal did not remember, and she wasn't sure why the sight of them surprised her.

Daisha's scrubbing barely paused at their entrance, and Mal realized as those darkened gold eyes flicked up to the mirror, that her angle made it just so that the other girl could see the opened doorway behind her, but not who had entered. She swallowed hard as Daisha's jaw tightened and her expression darkened, but Mal barely had a chance to gather a breath before the other girl spoke up.

"If you've come to gloat, Risa, it will be the last thing you do."

Mal didn't know who Risa was, but what struck her most was how Daisha's voice had changed. It was colder, a deeper and rougher rasp darkening her tone and sending chills down her spine just like it always had. She swallowed hard as Daisha's brows furrowed in the space of silence that followed her words, and pulled her voice up from where it had been hiding.

"Daisha."

Mal watched as the muscles in Daisha's shoulders tightened before the black tunic was yanked back over them and the other girl whipped around, eyes dull pits of fire.

"You," she growled, and Mal swallowed again as Daisha stood and began stalking across the room towards her. "You have some fucking nerve."

Stars danced behind her eyes as her head snapped sharply to the side, blood filling her mouth in place of words, and Mal just had the sense to lift her hand to keep Jay at bay, vaguely wondering if the blood she tasted was her own or Fenris.'

"Do you have any idea, dragon, just how long it's been?" Daisha whispered, rough, trembling fingers tangling in Mal's hair and pull her upright once again.

"One year, four months and…two days. Roughly," Mal murmured, voice thick, and if she'd had any doubts about the copper in her mouth they were absolved with the next blow, and oh but this was so familiar it hurt.

"Roughly," Daisha repeated, lips twisting mockingly as they traced the syllables, dark eyes flashing over Mal's shoulder. "Hello, Jay. You've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

And Mal realized, dimly, as she always had, that so had Daisha; the other girl- not even that anymore, really. That familiar insecurity gripped her, that harsh reminder of just what had led her away in first place as Daisha scrutinized Jay with a borderline judgmental look on her face. Because sure, she had only been gone for a vague year and some change, but Daisha had always been ahead of her and while the thrill of the older girl had always served to draw Mal to her, now it was all too apparent that Daisha was no longer a girl. In fact, she was probably closer to Jay's age at this point, maybe even past him which meant…what? Nineteen? Twenty, more likely, and Mal wasn't brave enough to ask.

Far more dangerous, the power dynamic between them now, so much more than it had been when they'd first met as…kids. Mal had been a kid, really, even then. And Daisha…Daisha was….

"How the fuck do you know me?" Jay snarled, challenging even as his palms slid sweaty on the hilt of the sword, and Daisha's lips curled in amusement.

"Well I know all of you, of course," Daisha purred darkly, and Mal felt the chill drag further down her spine as the other girl- as Daisha's eyes locked onto her. "Jay, and little Carlos. Sweet Evie."

There's a resentment, a bitterness with which she says their names. A promise wrapped in the fire of her eyes and Mal straightened from what she refused to call a cower and glared.

"Enough, Daisha," she snapped, bolder than she had ever felt. But Daisha had always made Mal bold, and look where it got them. "We both know that's not what you really want."

"Do we?" Daisha rumbled, brow lifting coolly and eyes rooting Mal to the spot.

Mal's hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, but ultimately she knew she wouldn't ever let that spark come out, and finally she shifted her shoulders forward and turned her head, never taking her eyes from Daisha.

"Jay, leave," she said, and Jay balked, a growl building in his throat.

"Like hell I'm just going to leave you here with her!" he hissed, and Daisha's own answering growl was enough to turn the chill in Mal's spine to a shiver.

"I believe you were given an order, Jay," she murmured, voice soft and eyes anything but. "And good soldiers follow orders."

"Listen you deranged piece of fucking shit-"

"Jay," Mal snapped, turning desperately to face him- turning her back. "Go."

Go, she pleaded with her eyes, trying to convey what she could through her gaze. Go, I'll be fine. She nodded once, and Jay shook his own head, neither one of them believing it for a second. He cast one final disdainful look over her shoulder at Daisha, then turned and grabbed for the door.

"Leave the sword," Daisha called, and he froze in the doorway and turned back around, eyes blazing furiously.

"And leave myself completely defenseless?" he bit out through his teeth, and Daisha barked a short laugh that made Mal flinch in spite of herself.

"I think you'll manage," she said quietly, and Jay snarled a variety of rather creative curses and no small number of threats, but he ripped the scabbard from his back and flung the sword onto the ground in front of her. With one more mutinous look in Mal's direction, he turned and disappeared out the door.

Silence between them for a moment. Another moment.

The friing! of metal sliding from the scabbard. The harsh, pleased puff of air in Daisha's chest. The careful, creaking weight of Mal's footsteps as she slowly turned around, watching Daisha eyeing the sword with satisfied familiarity, the sharp lines of the blade cutting across the sharp lines of her face.

"It's been a while," Daisha murmured, and despite the edge of the blade in her hands there was none lingering in her voice now. "Things haven't been the same without this sword."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd miss it that much," Mal quipped jerkily, daring to step further into the room but keeping her back firmly to the wall. "It's just-"

"It's not. Just. The sword," Daisha growled, eyes flashing intently up to Mal's and halting her in her tracks and oh…oh.

"I didn't think-" Mal began, but it was cut through by a sharp blow, followed immediately by an even sharper laugh.

"No, you didn't think, did you?" Daisha snapped, and Mal had just enough time to catch the glint of the blade and not nearly enough time to dodge it. "If you had thought you never would have done what you had in the first place."

Mal grit her teeth through the anger and shoved back against the blade pinning her jacket to the wall, forcing herself upright because no, this just wasn't fair.

"Here's the thing, though," she snapped back, enjoying the way Daisha's eyes flickered for all of a second before the pain of it all came back. "I left because I was thinking. I was thinking there I was, just half a kid not even grown and here's you. Here's you, so far ahead of me in so many ways and this is the Isle. This is the Isle so what could you possibly stand to gain and what could I lose?"

Daisha's eyes hardened once more, but so did Mal's resolve, and she forced herself to keep going while she had the chance.

"And then you started answering…and I started figuring out that there was a lot I could still lose. And so I left before that could happen…before I could let myself let that happen."

"You're right that this is the Isle," Daisha growled, suddenly so close, the shadows warping and darkening in her wake and only adding to the rasping fury in her voice.

"This is the Isle, and we've both seen the bottom of it. But where I decided I wasn't going to be dragged down to that bottom, you-" her eyes lingered over Mal's form and her lips curled that much higher. "You never left it, did you, little dragon?"

"Daisha I-" Whatever Mal might have concocted was cut short as the air was knocked out of her lungs, her back slamming against the tapestry-laden wall behind her.

"What could I have gained?" Daisha murmured into her ear, her voice burrowing all the way down to Mal's core. "Nothing, except your trust. Your affection. Perhaps a bit more, in time, if you'd have let me."

"It was always the 'bit more' that you kept insisting on, though," Mal managed through something like a gasp, fighting the urge to run.

"True, but even then, I was always content to just have you. Now though…" Something in Daisha's voice shifted, darkened. "Now I'm impatient."

Mal thought to cry out, but that thought came too late—too late as Daisha's lips press roughly to hers, seizing possessively at whatever sound might have come out. Too late because Daisha's hands twist almost violently into Mal's violet stained hair, fingers tangling a moment before lowering and…and it's not searching, the way her hands move along her body. Not questioning or hesitant or careful like before. It's ferocious and possessive and intentional, the way Daisha's fingers dig under the hem of her shirt and along her skin, her intent never wavering even as she worked to deepen the kiss, as her hands wandered lower to trace along Mal's hips and thighs.

Mal jerked back sharply, or at least as far as the wall and Daisha's grip on her would allow, and Daisha's eyes flared, lips and teeth dragging along Mal's collar and voice a dangerous hum against the hollow of her throat.

"Not this time, little dragon," she murmured, and Mal felt her breath freeze in her lungs even as her body fought to let it out in a moan. "This time, you owe me."

And she knew, gods and Hades Mal knew that she did, but panic still clawed at her insides and she still squirmed against this grip that she would have fallen into any number of times had things only ever been fair and equal. But this was the Isle, and things were not fair or equal, especially not here; not now, after all this time. But Mal had always been foolish, always been so reckless and careless and bold when it came to Daisha and so she clung to that foolish and reckless hope and brought air into her lungs and forced it out into a bold and desperate gasp.

"What…," she managed haltingly, voice breaking. "Whatever happened to willingly?"

And Daisha's eyes flashed indignantly and cold, lips curling and twisting those sharp features that had always mesmerized Mal.

"You lost that when you left," she hissed, fingers still gripping tightly to the skin of Mal's thighs and leaving no room for an alternative.

And that was only fair, Mal knew. Of course it was, she had left, after all. She had left a year and some time ago because a part of her had started to realize—no. A part of her had always been aware, she'd just chosen to ignore the part of her that had flared up instinctively every time Daisha had lashed out at her (it had never been often, Mal would always say. And only ever when Mal was being particularly reckless or stubborn; only when she had deserved it and she was lucky, really. She knew that Daisha was capable of far greater violence and that had never been turned on her. They were alright.)

Every time Daisha had exploited the power dynamic to try and convince Mal to do something she didn't want to do (but really, most of the time Daisha hadn't realized she was doing it, and always apologized when Mal pointed it out. Always backed off when Mal pushed. Except sometimes she hadn't, and Mal would wind up with the taste of blood in her mouth for pointing it out. They were alright.)

Every time Daisha had pointed out that really, she could always take what she wanted, and it was a sign of how different (how good, ha ha) she was compared to anyone else Mal could have ended up with that she didn't. (Mal had never dared point out in those moments that the shadow of a man who had forced himself on her at fourteen had bragged something similar; that at least he had been 'gentle with her' and not many others would have showed the same restraint. But they were alright.)

They were alright until they weren't and Mal had left but she was back now and what did it mean, then? What did it mean that she still couldn't refuse; couldn't deny the part of her that had wanted to give herself to Daisha, but had been too terrified to do so and had left? What did it mean that a part of Mal thought that at least it was someone she might have dared to love, if circumstances had been any different? If they had lived in a fairytale, would they have been alright?

"I'm sorry," Mal whispered, and she couldn't quit tell what the salt on her tongue was from, but it choked her all the same.

"No, you're not," Daisha murmured, gold eyes bright as she hummed her way down Mal's throat and her fingers gripped Mal's thighs just a bit tighter. "Fenris is though. And what I did to her is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you."

They were not alright.

---

Chad

"Hey, do you have a second?"

Chad looks up from his homework to find Ben peering at him, a determination in his eyes despite the way he rocks ever so slightly on his feet, his hands twisting the signet ring around his finger anxiously. And Chad has a sudden visceral memory of all the times Ben had done this in the past, when they were younger, coming back from spending time at the castle and just worrying worrying worrying over everything he learned he was responsible for, and did you know that on the Isle, Chad? And Chad always shoving, pushing, pulling away because it always hurt those reminders…those things that lingered too close to home and in the back of his mind, until Ben had eventually stopped coming to him.

But Ben was coming to him now, and Chad has to fight to keep that instinct at bay, the urge to bite out something harsh and hurtful before Ben's knowledge could be used to hurt him.

"Sure," he says easily, shrugging his shoulders and shoving aside the textbooks and papers in front of him. "I wasn't doing anything important anyway."

Ben surveys the pile Chad discarded and lifts a brow. "Isn't that due in a week?" he says, and Chad shrugs because yeah, sure, but there were more pressing things he'd been dealing with than finishing an essay on time.

"Nothing too important," Chad reiterates, and Ben lets out a laugh that seems more startled out of him than anything genuine, and Chad has a horrible feeling all of a sudden.

"We need to talk," Ben says, and the determination in his eyes grows and Chad tries to think of what could possibly be driving this, what he needed to defend from, and then Ben draws a steadying breath and oh fuck oh fuck it's-.

"It's about Audrey." Ben says it so calmly, the way he always did when he said things that shattered Chad's world, and Chad stiffens even as he wipes his expression and pulls up a mask.

"What about Audrey?" Chad tries, and Ben's eyes flash and his lips draw down sharply and his fingers still.

"Chad," he says sharply, and Chad does not flinch, but it's close. "Don't. Don't do this to me. Don't give me bullshit. Not now."

And Chad swallows hard because for all his efforts to appear careless he cared so much and this was Ben. This was Ben, who had always seen straight through Chad's defenses and drawn him into life kicking and screaming, always seeing the things Chad tried to hide and embracing him regardless. Ben, who is practically his brother, his best friend. Ben, who is standing there anxious and determined and hurting and it's Chad's fault. Chad's doing.

"What about Audrey?" Chad says again, softer this time, weighing the words for the severity they deserved.

"I don't know, Chad," Ben says, and his voice is steely even as it breaks. "You tell me." And Chad can't look him in the eyes. "You tell me, cuz from where I'm standing, you would know more than I do. So you tell me, Chad."

"I never wanted for this to happen," Chad blurts, and wow it's all so cliché and oh but that is a lie because he had always wanted Audrey, just not like this. Not at Ben's expense. Not in the middle of all of…this. "Ben, I never wanted to-"

Hurt you. Goes unsaid, as Ben's hands clench tight at his sides and Chad falters and falls silent, gritting his jaw.

"How long?" Ben asks, and Chad dares to bring his head back up long enough to see that Ben's eyes are bright, and realizes that they're both fighting back stronger reactions. Stronger emotions.

It's not what you think, and, it hasn't been long, and, you weren't here why do you care now? All come unbidden to Chad's thoughts and to his lips, but he settles on the least damaging or perhaps the most damaging and says

"Not long. I don't know. She came to me before the whole garden party fiasco and things kind of just…went…from there."

Not like you think, he wants to plead. Not like you think, but did that even really matter when it came down to it?

"She said she wanted to break things off just before I left," Ben says through a shaky breath. "So that means that you and her…you were seeing each other even before then?"

We were always seeing each other, Chad wants to say, wants to try for some sort of twisted joke to push Ben away before things got even worse. Instead what comes out is

"I'm sorry. I tried to get her to talk to you, but…." He trails off because it's pitiful even to his own ears, and anyway, it had always been clear that the point was that she hadn't gone to Ben.

"You could have walked away," Ben says, tone icy and brittle. "You're good at that."

And it hurts but Chad steels himself to it and keeps his tone even despite the way he feels like he's being ripped in two.

"I didn't want to," he says quietly, honestly, and Ben nods and a smile twists his face as tears drip down his face. Chad realizes with a start that his own face is wet, too, realizes the exact moment when something between them breaks.

"Well, I hope she's worth it to you," Ben says, voice brittle. "I hope you'll be good for each other…better than I could have done."

He turns then, and leaves, and Chad wants to stand and call after him, to protest. But he just sits in the numb silence left behind, and thinks that, no, it wasn't worth this.

---

Carlos

He's not entirely sure how it happened. One moment he was reeling over everything that had happened in therapy, pondering over the work the Cricket had given them –figure out their goals for their sessions; what they wanted to focus on- and the next he was being ambushed by Aziz and reeling for an entirely different reason. He doesn't quite catch everything the older boy was saying, something along the lines of 'look I know we haven't talked a bit and that's because you guys are avoiding me because of everything with Jay which I get and that's fine but if I let a little silent treatment stop me from getting you guys to enjoy the wonder that is Tourney I'll never forgive myself.' Huh, looks like he'd caught it after all.

But all that it amounts to is Carlos and Jay, standing in the middle of the Tourney field (not the number 3 field, thankfully) surrounded by a bunch of other boys who looked like they maybe wanted to kill them. And also Ben and Chad and Aziz. So, not all of them wanted to kill them. Carlos realizes belatedly that at least three of the others on the team are the same ones who had tormented him from the beginning of their arrival, and who he and Jay had tormented in return, but Chad was also there and glaring daggers into anyone who so much as looked at either of them wrong; and Aziz is there to give Carlos cheerful thumbs up when he tries to decide if he should make a run for it. And also, Ben. So, yeah.

A whistle blows sharply and Carlos all but jumps out of his skin as the coach, a big, broad shouldered man who could probably break him over his knee if he wanted, yells out to him.

"Hey, lost boy! Put your helmet on and get out of the Kill Zone!"

He looks mad, and Carlos rushes to shove the unfamiliar helmet over his head and rush to wear the rest of the boys are gathered. He knew better than to piss off authority figures, but he couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder to where he'd been standing, and take in the painted red rectangle that takes up that section of field, with white crossing lines and the words 'Kill Zone' displayed beneath.

Huh. Ok then.

He vaguely hears the coach divide them into pairs, and he's grateful for the familiarity at least, for the chance to catch his breath. Then he finds himself immediately rescinding his thought, because he's just about sprinting for his life to avoid being pummeled by Jay, and it's so much like the Isle that it hurts. He thinks they make the team, somehow, impossibly.

Aziz was cheering for them by the end of it, anyway, even if the coach was shaking his head like he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with them. Carlos knows that look; Cruella had often gotten that look on her face, and it almost always ended in some form of pain. But the coach doesn't offer them any more than a few stern words about how they'd have to keep their studies and their behavior up in order to remain on the team, and they'd have to practice a bit harder given that they joined later, and there's a game coming up in only four more weeks and-

In the end it's Ben who volunteers to work with Carlos a little more on some drills, and the coach who pulls Jay aside for a word. The sight of Jay going off with him sets off all of Carlos' anxieties and fears, and he nearly breaks down then and there. It's only the fact that he catches Aziz slinking off after them with a sly look of curiosity on his face that has him relaxing enough to follow after Ben, and the other boy coaches him through a set of drills that coincide with some of the basics of the game.

It's nice, working with Ben. He doesn't mind if Carlos talks or doesn't, and waits patiently for him to work his way through the words when he does. Carlos doesn't know if it's just because Ben seems a bit distracted, but the ease of interaction is enough that Carlos finds himself relaxing, and the words come a bit easier, to the point where it's not as much of a struggle as he'd feared to get out:

"Did-did-did you find him?"

Ben pauses his stopwatch, looking up from his clipboard and frowning. "Find…," he begins, then he blinks. "Oh. Oh, yeah I was going to tell you about that!"

Carlos straightens up immediately, and something in Ben's face falls, seizing tightly at his insides.

"So, I did some research while I was at the castle," Ben begins slowly, and he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out. Carlos scrambles closer and realizes that it's a piece of notebook paper, and he takes it and examines it closely as Ben talks.

"I couldn't find out much, but there's a brief mention of a man named Isaac Heller in the records related to Cruella. Nothing definitive, and nobody could figure out where he'd come from. But he disappeared not too long after um….after the barrier went up over the Isle, and hasn't been heard from since."

The notebook paper is equally sparse, only a few notes written in surprisingly neat, if blocky handwriting. 'Isaac Heller. Scandal related to Cruella de Vil…hints at affair? Aspiring author/writer, no published works recorded. Disappeared from all public and private records twelve years ago. Nothing since then.'

It's strange, how disappointed he feels. He reads the paper over and over again but nothing…twelve years. Carlos blinks, and frowns, reading the lines again.

"Twe-twelve years ago," he mutters, biting at his lip. "I would have bbbeen two…"

"You're only fourteen?" Ben asks, and Carlos freezes.

"Nnoo," he mumbles shakily, and Ben huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Carlos it's alright if you're fourteen," he says, and Carlos carefully finds himself relaxing. "I was just surprised because the records we had said you were older, almost sixteen. Clearly we have to get a better system of keeping track of things."

And Ben grins as he says it, but Carlos is frozen because…because there'd been something…itching in the back of his head. He frowns and pokes at it because there was something not right about that…but that would mean that someone would have had to change his age in Auradon records and no one had that much power he was sure. And yet at the same time there is something in his head that is trying to tell him something damnit!

"Hey, don't worry too much about it," Ben says, and he swings a gentle hand out to clip Carlos on the shoulder. "Let's work on some sprints, ok?"

"Ok," Carlos agrees carefully, idly wandering back to the lines marked on the field and taking a stance.

"Ok, ready?" Ben draws out the 'eee' sound a bit and Carlos tenses, ready. "Go!"

And Carlos springs forward and he's always loved running, really. Despite how often running for him on the Isle had always meant bad things, terrible things, he'd always loved the feeling of adrenaline flowing through him. The power running through him and fueling him on, faster and faster where others might have slowed or tired. Running was something he could do, in spite of his speech, in spite of his mother or anything she might have wanted him to be or not be. Running was something that was just his, and he was grateful for Auradon in that moment, for giving running back to him in a way that meant he wasn't getting chased or threatened or-

Arp!

Hm? Carlos falters midstep and looks back over his shoulder to see something moving across the field in his direction. It's tiny and brown and he thinks four legs, animal, and then the thing makes that high pitched 'arp!' sound again, and Carlos is suddenly in the library, back against the wall as a much larger, similarly four-legged and wagging tailed thing was sniffing at him. And then he thinks Pongo, Dalmatian, dog.

Tiny dog.

It was a dog. It was a dog was a dog was a dog and Carlos is gone. Running and he feels his breath leave him in a scream and desperately clamps down on the sound, forcing air back into his lungs and running for the closest protection he can find, which is impossible given the open field he's on right now but. There's a tree line at the edge of the field and he bursts into it, branches scratching his face and the dog dog tiny dog it'll kill me it'll kill me it'll kill me arp!ing right behind him and tree tree find a tree dog's can't climb? Tiny dog shouldn't be able to climb, right?

It doesn't matter, and Carlos throws himself at the nearest thing he can find, pushing off a fallen log and scrambling for the lowest branch. He barely gets his fingers around it before he hears the trees breaking behind him and he whimpers, bark scraping against his knees as he tucks his legs as close to his body as he can.

"Carlos?!"

It's Ben! It's Ben it's Ben Ben is safe Ben will protect him from

"Ben?!" He calls back. "Ben!" And he's desperately relieved as the older boy's head comes through the trees, needles and green falling out of his hair.

"Carlos, there you are!" Ben says, and he's laughing, grinning. And Carlos is hallway down the tree when the trees shift and break and dog.

"Aaah! No!" He whines, and Ben…Ben is right there what is he doing it's gonna…. "B-b-en! It's gonna rrrip out my throat!"

"What?" Ben says, and he's still laughing and he's still right there why does he not understand that this thing is dangerous?

He must have said something of that out loud, as Ben's brows furrow through his confused smile, and he actually bends down and picks up the dog.

"Who uh…who told you that?" Ben asks, and Carlos fixes him with his own incredulous look because who else but

"Mmmy mother," he manages, knees gripping to keep his balance where his fingers slip from the branch. "She-she-she's a dog expert. A dog yeller-er."

And Ben looks like he wants to frown even more but he's still grinning and still holding the dog and

"Whwhwhat are you doing he's gonna attack you!?" Carlos cries, and he turns his face and buries it into the wood, cursing his own cowardice and bracing for the sound of Ben's screams and the dog's snarls.

Instead, there is silence. Or at least, there's a tiny, panting huffing sound that is the dog, and the quiet ha ha chuckling that is an alive Ben.

"Carlos you've never actually…met a dog. Have you?" Ben says, and Carlos blinks because he'd met Pongo but he didn't know if that really counted.

Ben straightens, shifting his arms so the dog is on even more display and lifts his chin importantly, staring into the thing's eyes.

"Dude, meet Carlos," he says to it, then lifts his laughing eyes to Carlos. "Carlos, this is Dude. He's the campus mutt."

Carlos frowns because that's familiar, and he lowers himself carefully down to the ground, brushing off his shirt and then searching along his arms because he knew it was there somewhere and…aha. He extends his arm to Ben and points questioningly at the marked patch of skin just above the crook of his elbow and to where the word 'Mutt' is carved in raised, pale scratches.

Ben goes a bit pale too, and his eyes take on that heavy-sad-guilty thing they do whenever the Isle is mentioned.

"Not…not quite like that," Ben says, and Carlos frowns and looks sideways at the dog.

"W-well what does-?" he starts to ask, and Ben makes a puffy sound that might have been another laugh but is a bit less humor filled to be the same noise he had been making.

"A mutt is when the breeds that make it up are hard to tell," Ben mutters, not looking Carlos in the eye. "Like, you have Dalmatians sorry…which are recognizable, but if you mix it with something else that's not…you get a mutt."

Oh. Well that explained why it was on his arm, then. Carlos brightens, and laughs a bit, and Ben looks startled and confused as he points at his arm, and then at the dog.

"So so he is like me!" he states, proudly, and Ben looks at a loss and slightly pained. But with the connection made Carlos is able to see that the dog is not, in fact, vicious or wild. It had barely squirmed in Ben's arms, and simply looked at him calmly as Carlos carefully approached and poked it with his finger. The dog tries to lick his hand when he pulls it away, and though it's barely a touch, it's warm and rough across his fingertips.

"Woah!" Carlos gasps, stepping back quickly and lifting both hands away from the dog because. Huh. "Huh," he says, and steps closer, poking his whole hand forward in one movement and waiting.

His fingers meet a soft, warm body, tangling through wiry fur, and Carlos realizes belatedly that he is petting a dog. He is petting a dog and not dying, and he thinks that maybe Cruella wasn't quite as much of an expert as he'd thought. Maybe he was a good boy after all.

---

Once upon a time, a man fell in love with a woman, as men are wont to do. That is to say, as some men are wont to do. The woman that this man fell in love with was beautiful and cunning, just as he was cunning. Ruthless, and vicious, making up for his own lack of a violent nature.

Over time, the man and the woman had a child. A son. They named him Ceran, and he was beautiful, like his mother. But weak, like his father, and like the land in which he'd been born. Ceran grew weaker and weaker, until one day, he stopped growing entirely.

The woman became even more ruthless after that, and the man grew weaker, but didn't stop loving her. Didn't stop growing cunning, in his own ways. Planning so that they would never lose another child, as they had lost their first. But there were powers conspiring against them that even he could not have foreseen.

They had a second child. Another son. He was beautiful, like his mother. And like his father. Cunning, like his father, but also. Weak. But his father loved him and so together they grew more cunning. And his mother more vicious. Until the man had no choice but to flee. But he didn't forget his son. His second son, his only son. The man had been making plans, you see. To free his love and to free his child from the land they'd been contained to. The land that had made them so weak and had taken his first child from him.

But those powers? The ones that he could not have predicted, could not have contained? Broke. And the man found himself far away from his love, and from his son, with no way to return. Grieved, and recalling his now broken promise that he would never lose another child, the man determined that perhaps it was best that his child not share his same grief. Not share the burden of losing one so dear.

And so the man gathered the remains of his powers and shuttered himself away from his son's memories, and from the memories of those in the land surrounding him. Even from his lover's memories, until nothing remained but a mystery. A mystery that would remain unsolved, at least until he could find a way to return once again to be with his child and his lover in freedom.

But that would be a long time to come. And there were so many stories to write in between...

Once upon a time, somewhere in Maine, a yellow Volkswagen entered a little town.

Once upon a time, somewhere in Auradon, Carlos was remembering a name.

Once upon a time, somewhere on the Isle, Cruella was screaming.

Once upon a time, somewhere in Arandelle, Isaac Heller was laughing.

---

Note for those who skipped:

Mal returned to the Huns and Daisha after over a year of being away to discover that Daisha had fully taken over leadership of the Clan from her father, and had grown bitter and more violent in Mal's absence. Shan Yu, fearing for the future of his Clan with his daughter's newfound brutality, and knowing that she and Daisha had a connection in the past, exploited the 'debt' that Mal owed for his part in saving Carlos four years ago and told Mal to return. Mal goes to Daisha and an intense confrontation ensues, with Mal realizing that her own fears about the relationship she had with the other girl are not as unfounded as she had thought, but with no other choice she's forced to fall back into the relationship once again.