"Derranged"

"Every step, every word
With every hour I am falling in"

Chapter 4: Carlos

"Who goes there?" asked the figure in an authoritative tone.

Mal breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't Cruella! Years of growth strained the voice, but Mal remembered it.

"It's me, Mal." She said softly to the figure.

Carlos lowered the fireplace poker in his hand and stood in amazement.

"Mal?" he asked, finding it hard to believe that she was in this room with him.

He was clad in dark trousers and a solid black button down shirt. His white hair was slicked back and he now wore an astonished look upon his face. His dark eyes seemed to glow as he began to smile.

"It's been too long," he said last, "I still remember that day at the shore. I swear I tried to visit you, but your mother…" he trailed off at the last part.

"I can only imagine what she said and/or did to you when you came over. Did she scar you mentally, or just physically?" asked Mal.

"Luckily for her, just mentally. If Mother knew what she threatened…" Carlos trailed off.

His smile faded from his face.

"You have to get out of here before Mother finds you. She…hasn't been herself ever since she got stranded on this island and she's only gotten worse. Quick! Follow me!" he whispered to Mal. As he led her away by the hand, he noticed her sad, desperate expression as her eyes followed the milk and sandwich fading from view. Carlos stopped. She was clearly upset, flustered, and she was hungry! He rushed over to the table and grabbed the plate and glass and motioned for Mal to follow him.

Carlos led Mal out of the back door of the house and into a makeshift shack in the outskirts of the seemingly endless back yard. Once inside the shack, Mal could see that they were at least a quarter of a mile outside the house. The house lights were the only lights in the distance, faint glows against the darkness.

Once inside and the door secured, Carlos handed the plate and glass to Mal, who happily dug into her food. The bread was a bit stale and the milk was on it's last day of freshness, but she didn't mind at all. If she was offered more, she would have happily accepted. As she ate, she looked around Carlos's shack. She surmised that this structure was a makeshift garage for Cruella's car. She supposed that Cruella made this shack for her car which would never make it back from Aurodon. Still, hope keeps even the most desperate of dreams alive. Maleficient kept Mal in a dungeon instead of a comfortable bedroom. It stood to reason that Cruella would exile her son from a big, warm house and keep him in the cold, dingy shack. The walls were cold and damp, a few furnishings made the place look the tiniest bit homey. He had a single, wobblily table that was most likely salvaged from the Isle junkyard, as were the chairs that they now sat in.

"You remind me of the dogs eating…" said Carlos softly.

Mal looked up at him, trying to decide if she should be offended by this remark. Seeing her expression, he clarified.

"What I m-m-m-meant is…most people eat with a look of disdain on their face, always wanting something better. Dogs happily accept what they get and they enjoy it so much. It's hearwarming to see." Carlos added quickly to improve his statement.

Mal gave him a small smile to show him that she accepted his addition. She could see he was nervous.

"Have you kept up with any of our friends in the past few years?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"No…ever since that day, Mother got ill. I think it was the Isle getting to her. I've had to wait on her, hand and foot. Every day she gets worse."

Mal frowned. She recognized that look of pitiful desperation and sorrow. She had seen it in her own face every time she looked into the mirror. She reached out and was about to touch his hand when she saw his hand contort into a tight fist.

"Sometimes…I wish I could just abandon that pitiful hag and leave her to rot" he said, gritting his teeth.

"What stops you?" inquired Mal. She had considered this many times. Every time her mother left her in the dungeon, every time she was whipped by her mother, every time she begged for mercy at her mother's hands.

"If you love someone, you can't do that to them…even if you hate them." He said, frowning and looking to the ground. "She's all I have."

"What about me?" asked Mal, "Jay, Evie…we could all run away together!"

"I'm stuck here, Mal," said Carlos softly, "I can no more escape my fate than you can escape yours."

Mal looked to the floor, trying to decide when to approach the subject of why she was there in the first place. If Carlos wasn't so desperate for company, Mal thought, he would have inquired further.

"Carlos…" asked Mal.

He perked up at Mal using his name.

"Yes, Mal?" he asked eagerly. He leaned towards the edge of his seat.

"Do you have running water at that big house? It's been months since I have had a decent bath."

Carlos gulped and shifted in his seat.

"Y-y-yes...we do. I have to pump it for a bit to get it to run for a while, but we have it…you-you would be welcome to use it…" he stuttered.

Mal smiled and rose from her seat.

"Don't worry about Mother. I'll check on her and make sure she's fast asleep. You can use the shower on the ground floor."

"I appreciate this, Carlos. I really do." Said Mal.

"Anything for you, M-Mal." Said Carlos, struggling to contain the raging emotions within him.

Mal bent over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the shack towards the house.

Carlos, frozen in place, placed a hand to the cheek that was still warm from her perfectly curved lips. His eyes grew wide and he rushed out towards Mal.